e or 
 
IN MEMORY OF 
 
 WILLIAM C. HABBERLEY 
 
The Bachelor s Christmas 
 
 And Other Stories 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 THE ART OF LIVING. With 135 Illustrations by C. D. 
 Gibson, B. W. Clinedinst, and W. H. Hyde. Squara 
 12mo. $2.50. 
 
 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS, AND OTHER STOR 
 IES. With 21 Illustrations by C. D. Gibson, I. R. Wiles, 
 A. B. Wenzell, and C. Carleton. 12mo, $1.50. 
 
 REFLECTIONS OF A MARRIED MAN. 12mo, paper, 
 50 cents; cloth, $1.00. 
 
 The Same. Cameo Edition. With an Etched Frontis 
 piece. 16mo, $1.25. 
 
 THE OPINIONS OF A PHILOSOPHER. Illustrated by 
 W. T. Smedley and C. S. Reinhart. 12mo, $1.00. 
 
 The Same. Cameo Edition. With an Etched Frontis 
 piece. 1 6mo, $1.25. 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 12mo, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 JACK HALL; or. The School Days of an American Boy. 
 Illustrated by F. G. Attwood. 12mo, $1.25. 
 
 JACK IN THE BUSH; or, A Summer on a Salmon River. 
 Illustrated by F. T. Merrill. 12mo, $1.25. 
 
The Bachelor s Christmas 
 and Other Stories. By 
 Robert Grant 
 
 Illustrated by C. D. Gibson, I. R. Wiles 
 A. B. Wenzell, and C. Carleton 
 
 Charles Scribner s Sons 
 New York ^rrrr: 1895 
 
Copyrigbt, 1895, by 
 Charles Scribner s Sons 
 
 GiFi 
 
 TROW DIRECTORY 
 
 PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
 NEW YORK 
 
G-763 
 
 B 
 
 NOTE 
 
 Of the following stories, "In Fly-time," 
 "Kichard and Kobin," and "By Hook or 
 Crook " appeared originally in Harper s Mag 
 azine, from which they are here republished, 
 together with their illustrations, through the 
 courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers ; the 
 others appeared in Scribners Magazine. 
 
 M617437 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 The Bachelor s Christmas, . . i 
 An Eye for an Eye, .... 5^ 
 
 /// Fly-time, //5 
 
 Richard and Robin, 167 
 
 The Matrimonial Tontine Benefit 
 Association, 211 
 
 By Hook or Crook, 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 (t Wish you merry Christmas, and 
 
 and here s to her ! " . . . Frontispiece 
 
 F***g 
 
 page 
 
 Alone in his bachelor s quarters on Christ 
 mas Eve, 4 
 
 The wreaths of holly were the nearest sem 
 blance to faces, and they seemed almost 
 to grin at him, 20 
 
 One of those icy glances which made him 
 
 yearn to cut his throat, 26 
 
 "Come in, George, don t he afraid," said 
 
 Tom. " Tbey won t bite," .... 44 
 
 Quite contrary to the spirit of the occasion, 
 
 he was down on his knees, .... 50 
 
viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 " I had a cousin jits your build," . ... 124 
 
 " I almost wish I had let the George Wash 
 ington 742 
 
 " Dinner!" 144 
 
 " Mine s a head/ said the Professor, . . 146 
 
 " My husband is tired and run down," . 752 
 
 A solitary figure perched on a fence, . . 760 
 
 She lingered below to examine the sketch, . 188 
 
 A face looked back at me, 198 
 
 The tenth annual dinner <( She threw me 
 
 over" 222 
 
 Horace had been escorting the unknown in 
 
 question home from church, .... 234 
 
 Why they are diamonds real dia 
 monds!" 250 
 
 After the theatre party, 270 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ix 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 " I am going to take you into my confi 
 dence," 286 
 
 Mr. Baker bad vanished, 298 
 
 He was talking to her with an intense 
 
 manner, 34 
 
THE BACHELOR S 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
THE BACHELOR S 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
 THOMAS WIGGIN, or Tom Wiggin, as 
 everyone called him, sat alone in his 
 bachelor quarters on Christmas-eve, waiting 
 for a carriage. The carriage was not late, but 
 Tom, who was a methodical man in everything 
 he did, had finished his preparations a little 
 sooner than need be. His fur coat and hat 
 and gloves lay on a chair beside him, ready 
 to put on the moment Bridget, the maid, 
 should knock at the door and tell him that 
 Perkins, the cabby at the corner, was block 
 ing the way. Tom had already taken out of 
 his pocket two ten-dollar gold pieces and 
 laid them on the centre-table beside an array 
 of packages done up with marvellous care in 
 the whitest of paper and the reddest of rib 
 bon. One of the gold pieces was for Bridget 
 and the other for Perkins. Twice the sum 
 
4: THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 would not have replaced the crockery and 
 objects of virtu which the Hibernian hand 
 maiden, who brought up his breakfast and 
 was supposed to keep his room tidy, had 
 smashed since he had tipped her last ; and 
 Tom had, only two months before, under 
 gone the melancholy experience of falling 
 through the bottom of Perkins s coupe, be 
 cause of the pertinacity with which that 
 common carrier of passengers clung to the 
 delusion that no repairs to a vehicle were 
 necessary until it dropped to pieces. But as 
 Tom would have said if interrogated on the 
 subject by a subtler mind, Christmas comes 
 but once a year, and though Bridget s best 
 w r as her worst, she had tried to do it, and 
 Perkins, shiftless as he was, had driven his 
 poor old nag one day into a pink lather in 
 endeavoring to catch a train for him, which 
 he had just missed after all. 
 
 Besides, Tom had had a remarkably good 
 business year, so that a ten-dollar gold piece 
 did not seem to him the dazzlingly large sum 
 he had regarded it ten years earlier. He 
 had lived in these same bachelor lodgings 
 for ten years, and during that time had built 
 up a very neat business by his own unaided 
 

 ALONE IN HIS BACHELOR QUARTERS ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 5 
 
 effort, as his contemporaries (and contempo 
 raries are apt to be stern critics) were ready 
 to admit. He had worked hard and steadily, 
 taking only enough vacation to enable him 
 to keep well, and shunting everything to the 
 background which threatened to interfere 
 with the object he had in view that is, 
 ever}*thing but one thing. And this one 
 thing he had made up his mind five years ago 
 was out of the question. Consequently he 
 had shunted it to the background with every 
 thing else, and devoted himself more unre 
 servedly than ever to the real estate busi 
 ness. 
 
 Ten years is quite a piece out of any man s 
 life, and though Tom "Wiggin was the picture 
 of health, he was, as we say colloquially, no 
 longer a chicken. He was stouter than he 
 had been and had lost some of his hair, 
 which gave him rather a middle-aged appear 
 ance, or at least suggested that he never 
 would see thirty-five again. "When he had 
 taken his present room he had been a slim 
 and almost delicate-looking stripling without 
 a copper, whom any girl might be likely to 
 fancy. To-day, in his own estimation and in 
 that of his friends and acquaintances, he 
 
6 THE BACHELORS CHRISTMAS 
 
 a well -seasoned old bachelor who was not 
 likely to ask any one feminine to share his 
 comfortable competency. 
 
 Christmas comes but once a year, and Tom 
 had for several years past been in the habit 
 of recognizing the fact in his special way. He 
 was extensively an uncle. That is to say, he 
 had two married sisters, one with five and the 
 other with three children of tender age, and 
 each of his two married brothers had present 
 ed him with a nephew and niece of the name 
 of Wiggin. Categorically speaking, he had 
 seven nephews and five nieces to provide 
 with Christmas gifts, not to mention his two 
 sisters and his two sisters-in-law, all of 
 whom had grown accustomed to expect a 
 package in white paper tied with pink rib 
 bon and marked "with love and a merry 
 Christmas from Tom." Here were sixteen 
 presents to begin with, and there were apt to 
 be almost as many more. On this particular 
 Christmas evening there were thirty-five par 
 cels in all, each done up with immaculate 
 care, for Tom, like most other bachelors, 
 prided himself on doing everything in a thor 
 ough, deliberate fashion. He had made his 
 last purchase a fortnight ago, and had spent 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 7 
 
 two entire evenings in putting the array of 
 toys and fancy goods in presentable order. 
 They were of all sorts and sizes, for Tom 
 had paled neither before bulk nor price. 
 There was a safety bicycle for a nephew who 
 had set his heart on one, and the tiniest of 
 gold watches for his eldest niece. There was 
 a warm, fur-lined cloak for his dead mother s 
 oldest friend, a spinster lady who had small 
 means wherewith to keep herself comfortable 
 in a cold world, and a case of marvellous port 
 for his old chum, Belden, who would see 
 that it was not wasted on unappreciative 
 palates. Every thing was ready for the sum 
 mons from Perkins, the cabby, and Tom, 
 bald-headed bachelor that he was, was fum 
 ing a little in spite of the fact that it still 
 lacked three minutes of the hour appointed 
 for departure. 
 
 The clock in the neighboring church tower, 
 whose tones were plainly audible in the sky 
 parlors which he called his home, had only 
 just struck five when the tramp of feet fol 
 lowed by a knock announced the joint arrival 
 of Bridget and Perkins, to whom he had in 
 trusted the duty of helping him to carry his 
 precious parcels down three flights of stairs 
 
8 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 to the attendant cab. This was the sixth 
 consecutive year Bridget and Perkins had 
 done the same thing, and they thought they 
 knew what to expect. But they had count 
 ed without their host. A year ago they 
 had chuckled for forty-eight hours over a 
 five-dollar bill apiece. Now, when they 
 opened the door and presented their grin 
 ning countenances, their benefactor, after 
 shouting at them a merry Christmas, pro 
 ceeded to daze their intellects, of every par 
 ticle of which they stood in sore need for the 
 purpose of a safe descent, by tossing to each 
 of them a gold coin of twice the denomina 
 tion. For some moments they stood in be 
 wildered, sheepish silence, examining their 
 treasure, as though to make certain it was 
 genuine ; then Bridget, taxing her intelli 
 gence for a suitable expression for the wealth 
 of feeling at her heart, exclaimed : 
 
 " And sure, Mr. Wiggin, it s Bridget Lan- 
 agan that s hoping that before the good Lord 
 brings anither Christmas-day the proudest 
 lady in the land will be yer wife. It s me 
 and Perkins would be the first to say God 
 bless her, though we lost a good job by it." 
 At this prodigal outburst of expectation Tom 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 9 
 
 "Wiggin s countenance grew rosy-red, notwith 
 standing the incredulous laugh with which he 
 received the blessing of his warm-hearted 
 handmaiden and the nods of the less nimble- 
 witted cab-man. Then a shadow crossed it 
 as though of unhappy recollection, and there 
 was a tinge of real hopelessness in his half- 
 j ocular protestation. 
 
 " Many thanks, Bridget, for your good 
 wishes, but there s no such luck in store for 
 me. I shall live and die an old bachelor 
 such as you see me now, and you and Perkins 
 will be able to count on a ten-dollar gold 
 piece on Christmas-eve for the rest of your 
 lives. That is," Tom added by way of timely 
 warning, " provided you don t smash any of 
 these things of mine in carrying them down 
 stairs. You remember that the pair of you 
 last year between you broke a teacup worth 
 its weight in gold, and the year before that 
 large vase broke itself. If everything were 
 to go down safely I should almost begin to 
 believe that what Bridget hopes might come 
 true. Careful now, and be sure not to lay 
 that bicycle right on top of the gilt-edged 
 dinner-plates for my sister Mary." 
 
 Whether it was that Tom s strictures in re- 
 
10 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 gard to the clumsiness of his assistants were 
 exaggerated, or they were bent on causing 
 him to repose trust in Bridget s prophecy, the 
 thirty -five packages reached the cab and were 
 stowed within and without, under their owner s 
 supervising eye, without a single casualty. 
 
 " Faith, Mr. Wiggin, they ll be taking yer 
 this time for Santa Glaus, sure," said Perkins 
 when the last precious parcel had been de 
 posited. " Yer ll have to ride outside, sir, as 
 yer did last year." 
 
 Evidently the gaping file of small boys 
 which had formed itself on each side of the 
 doorway was of the opinion that, if the gen 
 tleman in the fur coat was not Santa Glaus, 
 he was one of his blood-relations, for, as Tom 
 climbed carefully to his post beside Perkins 
 so as not to hazard the safety of the bicycle 
 and the box of port, for which there was no 
 room inside, they broke out into a shrill 
 hurrah. Perhaps they too, or at least some 
 of them, knew what they had to expect, for 
 before Santa Glaus seated himself on the 
 box he plunged his hands into the side pock 
 ets of his far overcoat, and then reproducing 
 them, seemed to toss them high to the winds, 
 as he cried, with gay good- will : 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 11 
 
 " Scramble now, you little devils, scramble, 
 and wish you merry Christmas ! " 
 
 What Tom flung to the winds was neither 
 his fingers nor his thumbs, but a plethora of 
 bright nickels which he had drawn from the 
 bank for the express purpose. As the glitter 
 ing shower of brand-lie \v five-cent pieces fell 
 to the icy sidewalk, the band of urchins 
 threw themselves upon it with a shout of 
 transport which drew tears from the eyes of 
 the tender-hearted Bridget, who had re 
 mained to witness this established ceremony, 
 and ought to have warmed the cockles of the 
 donor s heart, if indeed they needed warm 
 ing. Twice again he replunged his hands in 
 to his pockets and twice again the yell was 
 repeated. Then seating himself beside Per 
 kins, Tom gave the signal for departure, and 
 as the cab rounded the corner a score of little 
 lungs gavo him back his merry Christmas 
 with all their might. 
 
 It was a genuine Christmas-eve. The 
 ground was covered with snow and the 
 sleigh-bells were jangling merrily. The lamps 
 were already lighted, and many a parlor win 
 dow gave out the reflection of wreaths of 
 holly, and now and again sparkled with little 
 
12 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 rows of candles in token of the precious 
 Christmas anniversary. Perkins s coupe was 
 on wheels, and his equine paradox was im 
 perfectly caulked into the bargain, so that 
 the world seemed to be rushing by them as 
 they jogged along. Tom had a list which ho 
 from time to time consulted by the allied 
 light of the moon and the street-lamps, in 
 order to see that his itinerary was accurately 
 followed and no one forgotten. At every 
 house he dismounted in person and handed 
 in his present. When he reached the resi 
 dence of his sister, Mary Ferris, who was the 
 mother of the five children, he had to make 
 four trips up and down the door-steps. His 
 sister, who was listening, recognized his voice 
 and came into the vestibule to meet him, and 
 her children, bounding in her wake like an 
 elated pack of wolves, shouted with one 
 tongue, 
 
 " Hurrah ! it s Uncle Tom." 
 
 Mrs. Ferris sent them scampering upstairs 
 in double-quick time on pain of dire penal 
 ties if they peeped or listened, and fondly 
 drew her brother into the small sitting-room 
 which opened out of the hall. 
 
 " I can t stop, Mary," he said ; " I m on my 
 
THE BACIIKLOR S CHRISTMAS 13 
 
 annual circuit. Now let s see if I ve got 
 everything. Here s the bicycle for Roger, 
 junior. They call it a safety/ and I trust it 
 may prove so. And the Noah s ark, the larg 
 est one made, for Harry ; and a musical box, 
 which plays eight tunes, for Dorothy ; and a 
 doll which sings Ta-ra-boom-de-ay for lit 
 tle Mary ; and a woolly lamb for baby Ned. 
 And here s a trifle in the crockery line for 
 you, my dear. If you don t like the pattern 
 you can change them. Now I must be off. 
 How s Eoger, senior? Give him my love 
 and a merry Christmas." 
 
 "He ll be at home very soon, Tom, and 
 dreadfully sorry to have missed you. The 
 children are just crazy about their stockings, 
 and little Eoger had given up all hope of a 
 bicycle. You are too generous to them and 
 to all of us. And, oh, Tom," she added, lay 
 ing her hand upon his arm, " I feel dread 
 fully that we shan t have you with us at din 
 ner to-morrow, but old Mr. Ferris depends 
 on Roger and me for Christmas. He says 
 it may be the last time, and that Christ 
 mas is the Ferris day. Thanksgiving is the 
 Wiggin day, you know, and we did have a 
 jolly time then ; yet I just hate to think of 
 
14: THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 your not dining with, one of us on Christmas. 
 How can it be helped, though, if all the 
 things-in-law have family parties ? " 
 
 " Why, that s all right, Mary. As you say, 
 Thanksgiving is the Wiggin day, and things- 
 in-law have rights, as well as those they 
 marry. Merry Christmas, dearest, and let 
 me go, or I shall never get through my list." 
 
 " Ah, but, Tom love, I do wish you were 
 married," she cried, putting her arms around 
 his neck to detain him. She was his favor 
 ite sister, and free to introduce dangerous 
 topics with due discretion. " You would be 
 so much happier." 
 
 " Do I seem so miserable ? " he inquired, 
 as he looked down at her and stroked her 
 hair. "That s an old story, Mary. I ve 
 heard you express the same wish every six 
 months for the last ten years. Every family 
 should have one old bachelor, at least, and I 
 shall be ours." 
 
 She was silent for an instant. "Do you 
 ever see Isabelle Hardy, nowadays ? " she 
 asked, with brave insistence. " I have some 
 times thought " she stopped, deterred from 
 completing her sentence by the shadow which 
 had come over Tom s face. 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 15 
 
 He gently, but firmly, removed his sister s 
 arms from his neck, and answered gravely, 
 almost stiffly, " Very rarely indeed." Then, 
 with a fresh access of gayety, as though he 
 were resolved that nothing foreign to the oc 
 casion should mar its spirit, he cried lustily, 
 " A merry Christmas to you, Mary ! " and de 
 parted. 
 
 Continuing steadily on his round, Tom de 
 livered safely the case of port, and the fur- 
 lined cloak, and brought up in the next street, 
 in front of his brother Joe s house. Here 
 he was to leave the gold watch for his eldest 
 niece, a generous box of bonbons for his sis 
 ter-in-law, a tool-chest for young Joe, and a 
 first edition of " Vanity Fair " for Joe him 
 self, who, though not particularly well off, 
 was a rabid book collector. Tom had dogged 
 an auctioneer for two days to make sure of 
 obtaining the volume in question, which, so 
 far as he could see, was like as two peas to 
 the subsequent issues of the same book to 
 be bought anywhere for a song. He was 
 convinced of his mistake when he saw his 
 brother s face light up at sight of the treas 
 ure-trove and heard his delighted inquiry, 
 " Where on earth did you pick this up, Tom? 
 
16 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 You couldn t have given me anything I d 
 rather have." 
 
 " Glad you like it, Joe. If it isn t the real 
 thing, I ll have the hide of that fellow, Nev- 
 ins, who sold it to me." 
 
 " The real thing ? It s a genuine first edi 
 tion and a splendid specimen. It s adorable. 
 I say, old fellow, it s an outrage that we re 
 to dine with Julia s father to -morrow and 
 leave you out in the cold. Another year I 
 mean to strike and have a Wiggin Christinas 
 dinner, Thanksgiving or no Thanksgiving. 
 Mary and I were comparing notes yesterday, 
 and vowing it was an infernal shame." 
 
 " Now, it s all right as it is, Joe. I ve just 
 left Mary, and I understand perfectly. You ve 
 got enough to do to digest your father-in- 
 law s mince pie and Madeira without having 
 me on your stomach." 
 
 "A regular old-fashioned ten-course feed, 
 where you sit down at seven and get up at 
 half-past ten feeling like lead. Ugh ! Where 
 are you going to dine, Tom ? " 
 
 " No matter. That s my secret. I shall 
 have a good dinner, never you fear. I must 
 be off now and deliver the rest of my goods." 
 
 " It s an outrage an infernal outrage," 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 17 
 
 growled Joe. " Before you go, old man," he 
 said, hooking his arm into his brother s, and 
 dragging him in the direction of the dining- 
 room, " we ll have a drink. I put a pint of 
 fizz on the ice this morning for your special 
 benefit. It won t take two minutes to mix 
 the cock-tail." Thereupon Joe gave the 
 bell-handle a wrench, and directed that the 
 bottle in the ice-chest should be brought up 
 together with the cracked ice which he had 
 ordered to be in readiness, and in a very 
 short space of time the white-capped maid 
 reappeared with a waiter laden with all the 
 necessary ingredients for the delectable bev 
 erage in question. Joe carefully measured 
 out some bitters, pop went the cork of the 
 Perrier Jouet, and presently the brothers 
 were looking at each other over two brim 
 ming glasses. 
 
 " Wish you merry Christmas, Joe." 
 "Wish you merry Christmas, Tom. And 
 here s to her." Joe paused an instant before 
 he drank to add, " It s a big mistake you re 
 not married, Tom. All I can say is some 
 girl is losing a first-class husband. I say 
 here s to her." 
 
 Tom, who had waited at the words, raised 
 2 
 
18 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 his glass solemnly. " There is no her and 
 there never will be," he said, with quiet de 
 cision. " Still, since you give the toast, Joe, 
 I ll drink it. It s not poisonous," he added, 
 with a wry smile " so here s to her." He 
 drained his glass and set it down on the 
 waiter, then for an instant stood ruminantly 
 with his back to the open fire. " The drink 
 was better than the toast in my case, Joe. 
 My her must have died in infancy." 
 
 " Honest Injun, Tom ? " asked Joe, as he 
 gripped his brother s hand held out for a 
 parting shake and looked into his face. 
 
 Tom s eyes quailed before the honest gaze. 
 His lip quivered. " I m an infernal liar, Joe, 
 and you know it. But what s the use ? She 
 wouldn t have me, man and there s no one 
 else whom I want to have. So, merry Christ 
 mas, Joe, and God bless you and yours." 
 
 As he went out into the frosty night the 
 clock in the hall struck half -past six. There 
 were only five parcels left and the coupe was 
 nearly empty. Tom opened the door and 
 stepping inside, lay back wearily. Present 
 ly he picked up one of the parcels it was a 
 book apparently, from its shape and laid it 
 at his side. When Perkins drew up the next 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 19 
 
 time, Tom gathered up the remaining four 
 and ran up the steps with them. They were 
 for his sister Kitty and her little company, 
 and he spent a few moments indoors to ex 
 plain matters. When he reappeared he said 
 to his conductor, " 114 Farragut Place, arid 
 then to the Club." 
 
 Tom sat inside with the remaining package 
 resting on his lap, nervously watching for the 
 cab to stop. They halted presently before a 
 spacious house, the old fashioned aspect of 
 which was heightened by the curved iron 
 railing which ran along the flight of steps 
 leading up to it. Just before the cab stopped 
 Tom had taken a note from his breast pocket, 
 and, after looking round him stealthily in the 
 darkness, had kissed the envelope. Now he 
 tucked it under the red ribbon of the remain 
 ing package, and walking gravely up the 
 steps, rang the bell. There was nothing in 
 the envelope but his visiting card, on which 
 he had written, " with best wishes for a merry 
 Christmas." When the servant came to the 
 door Tom said, " Will you please give this to 
 Miss Isabelle Hardy." Then the door closed 
 in his face and he went solemnly down the 
 steps again. On reaching the now empty 
 
20 TUB BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 cab he glanced over his shoulder as though 
 in hope of catching a face at the window, but 
 every shade was down, and the wreaths of 
 holly were the nearest semblance to faces, 
 and they seemed almost to grin at him. And 
 well they might. It was the fifth year in 
 succession that he had gone through exactly 
 this same pantomime. Tom heaved one 
 deep sigh ; then he straightened his shoul 
 ders and passed his hand across his eyes as 
 though he were sweeping away an unprofit 
 able vision. 
 
 " To the club," he repeated sturdily to 
 Perkins. " And now," he said to himself, as 
 he shrouded himself in his fur coat and put 
 up his feet on the opposite cushion, " the 
 question is how to make the best of a devil 
 ish poor outlook. I mean to have a merry 
 Christmas somehow." 
 
 II 
 
 THOUGH it was dinner time, there were few 
 men in the club when Tom entered it. Still 
 there was a half-dozen familiar spirits loung 
 ing in the sitting-room, most melancholy 
 
THE WREATHS OF HOLLY WERE THE NEAREST SEMBLANCE TO 
 FACES, AND THEY SEEMED ALMOST TO GRIN AT HIM 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 21 
 
 among whom was Frazer Bell, a bachelor far 
 gone in the forties, an epicure, but poor as a 
 church mouse. 
 
 " Just the man," said Tom to himself, and 
 he drew him aside. 
 
 "Will you dine with me to-night, Frazer ?" 
 
 " Er I have just ordered dinner, but 
 
 "Then I ll countermand it," interposed 
 Tom blithely, by way of relieving his would- 
 be guest from the quandary of accepting the 
 invitation without loss of self-respect. " It s 
 Christinas-eve and this is my outfit ; I m go 
 ing in for as good a dinner as they can give 
 us in honor of the occasion. I say, old man, 
 will you do me the favor to order it ? You 
 know fifty times better than I what w r e ought 
 to have to get the best." 
 
 Frazer Bell grinned melodiously. One 
 could almost see his mouth water. 
 
 " I ll do it if you like," he said. 
 
 " I wish you would. And be sure to put 
 down the finest there is, and to pick out 
 something gilt-edged in the way of wine ; 
 something cobwebby and precious." 
 
 " I ll try," said Frazer, with another grin, 
 and he ambled off in the direction of the of 
 fice. 
 
22 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 Tom went into the reading-room and 
 picked up a magazine. Presently he passed 
 his hands across his eyes again, for the 
 wreaths in the windows of the house in Far- 
 ragut Place were grinning at him still. He 
 said to himself that he guessed he needed 
 another drink, and pressed the electric but 
 ton at his side. 
 
 " Ask Mr. Frazer Bell what he ll have and 
 bring me a Martini cocktail," he said to the 
 servant. Then he shut his eyes and the grin 
 ning wreaths changed into a girl s face, a face 
 which had haunted him day in and day out 
 for seven years. He knew that he ought to 
 brush that away also, but he could not bring 
 himself to do it on Christmas-eve. He would 
 give himself that little luxury at least, before 
 he tried to obliterate it by talking gastron 
 omy with Frazer Bell. Nearly seven years, 
 verily, since he had seen her first ! She was 
 then a girl of nineteen, and he at the bottom 
 of the real estate ladder without a dollar to 
 his name, as it were. He had been crazy to 
 marry her, and for two years he had followed 
 her from ball-room to ball-room with a fever 
 ish assiduity which threatened to revolution^ 
 ize his business habits and make light of his 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 23 
 
 business principles. He was not the only 
 one in love with her ; there were half a dozen ; 
 but the one whose devotion he dreaded most 
 was Charles Leverett Saunders, a handsome 
 dashing beau, a scion of a rich and conspicu 
 ous house. He had watched her behavior 
 toward his rival with the eye of a lynx, and 
 as he compared the notes of one evening with 
 the notes of the next he had felt that she was 
 more gracious to Saunders than to him. And 
 yet sometimes she was so sweet and kind to 
 him. But then, again she would be cold and 
 distant, almost icy, in short ; on which occa 
 sions he had felt as though he would like to 
 cut his throat. A half-dozen times he had 
 made up his mind to offer himself to her and 
 know his fate, but somehow his determination, 
 which was so prodigious in other affairs, had 
 failed him. So matters had gone for a year 
 and a half, and he had seemed no nearer and 
 no less near to the goal than ever. He had 
 said to himself severely that this thing must 
 not go on. 
 
 On December 31st, just five years ago, 
 there was to be a famous ball, the crack party 
 of the season. He had resolved that before 
 the old year was out he would know his fate 
 
24 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 once and for all. Ten-dollar gold pieces did 
 not grow for him then on every bush, but he 
 ordered from the florist the handsomest bou 
 quet of roses and violets which native horti 
 cultural talent could devise, and sent it to 
 Miss Isabelle Hardy on the eve of the ball. 
 She had promised to dance the German with 
 him, and when he entered the ball-room his 
 eyes saw no one until they rested on her. A 
 frown had creased his brow, for she was on 
 the arm of Charles Leverett Saunders, and 
 was looking up into his face with a smile of 
 happy excitement which had suggested to 
 Tom that he was as far from her thoughts as 
 the Emperor of Japan. What was more and 
 worse, she carried three gorgeous bouquets, 
 but his was not among them. Where was it ? 
 Had it not been sent ? If so, he would ruin 
 that florist s trade for ever and ever. Or had 
 she left it at home on purpose? 
 
 He fought shy of her until the German and 
 there was no longer an excuse for him to 
 keep away. Almost at once she thanked him 
 for his lovely flowers. 
 
 " But you have not brought them." 
 " No," she said, sweetly. " I was unable to 
 I," and she had paused in her embarrassment. 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHHI^TUAS 25 
 
 " There were so many, of course." 
 " No, it was not that, Mr. AViggin, I assure 
 you." But she had looked a little hurt at 
 his gruff words. " I had a very good reason 
 for not bringing them." 
 
 There had been a piteous look in the girl s 
 eyes as she spoke, which he had often re- 
 culled since ; but then he had thought of 
 nothing but his anger and the slight which 
 had been put upon him. He felt like asking 
 why she had not left Charles Leverett Saun- 
 ders s flowers at home instead of his. It was 
 clear that she did not care for him, and it be 
 came clearer and clearer in the course of the 
 evening ; for after a while they had sat al 
 most tongue-tied beside each other. He had 
 tried his best not to be disagreeable, but in 
 spite of himself cynical sentences had slipped 
 from between his teeth in close succes 
 sion. He had seen that she was hurt and lie 
 had rather gloried in it, and presently an em 
 barrassed silence had followed, broken by the 
 arrival of his rival with a magnificent favor 
 proffered beamingly to the girl of Tom s 
 heart. She had sailed away, and looking 
 back over her shoulder, given Tom one glance 
 one of those icy glances which made him 
 
2G THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 yearn to cut his throat. That was bad enough, 
 but to crown all, when her turn came to be 
 stow a boutonniere she made Tom carry her 
 straight up to Leverett Sauuders, in the but 
 ton-hole of whose coat she proceeded to fasten 
 the rosebud for which Tom would have given 
 twelve months of his life. 
 
 Five years ago on the first of January ! 
 He had gone home that night certain that 
 Isabelle Hardy did not love him, and re 
 solved that she should play fast and loose 
 with him no longer. In the first hours of 
 the new year he vowed that he would forget 
 her, and devote himself to his business heart 
 and soul. Henceforth he would close eye 
 and brain to all distractions. He would 
 cease forever to be a plaything for a woman s 
 caprice. 
 
 He had kept his word. That is to say, his 
 attentions had ended from that hour. The 
 festivities which had known him knew him 
 no more. He went nowhere, and the reason 
 whispered under the rose was that Isabelle 
 Hardy had given him the mitten. The whis 
 per reached him, but little he cared that ru 
 mor was not strictly accurate. Was it not 
 practically so ? She had to all intents and 
 
THE BACHELOR S CUHISTMA* 27 
 
 purposes thrown him over, and he had 
 expelled her image from his heart and gone 
 on with his business, looking neither to the 
 right nor to the left. Occasionally he passed 
 her in the street, and on every Christmas-eve 
 since the night of his resolution, he had left 
 a trifling remembrance at the house in Far- 
 ragut Place, just, as it were, to show that 
 there was no ill feeling. Otherwise they 
 never met, and here he was to-day, an old 
 bachelor close on forty, getting bald and 
 set in his ways, with a splendid business 
 and a secret ache at his heart. And she ? 
 Tom had never known why she had not 
 married Charles Leverett Saunders, as every 
 body expected and said she was going to 
 do. Yet suddenly, without warning, that 
 dashing gallant had gone abroad and had 
 remained there ever since, doing the Nile, 
 and Norway, and hunting tigers in the 
 jungles of India, according as the humor 
 seized him. And she ? She was beginning 
 to show just a little the traces of time, to 
 suggest what she would look like if she never 
 married and remained after all an old maid. 
 He had been struck by it the last time he 
 had passed her in the street. An old maid ! 
 
THE BACHELOR S ( 
 
 Isabelle Hardy an old maid ! There was bit 
 ter liumor in it for Tom, and lie laughed 
 aloud in the reading-room, then, starting at 
 his own performance, looked around him 
 confusedly. He was alone, and his un tasted 
 drink stood at his elbow. No one had heard 
 his harsh, strange outburst. He tossed off 
 the cocktail and sank back in his easy chair 
 to confront the vision. An old maid. And 
 he was an old bachelor. And it was Christ 
 mas-eve. And what a gloomy, diabolical an 
 niversary it was for old maids and old bach 
 elors. They had no things-iu-law to invite 
 them to dinner. They were out in the cold 
 and their room was better than their com 
 pany. Jokes? Jollities? They were all 
 matrimonial and centred about baby s teeth 
 or Noah s arks. The only thing for an old 
 bachelor or old maid to do was to ransack 
 toy shops and then stand aside. Merry 
 Christmas? How in the name of Santa 
 Glaus was an old bachelor or an old maid to 
 have a merry Christmas ? And why in time 
 shouldn t they be merry if they could ? 
 
 Five minutes later, the servant had to an 
 nounce twice that dinner was served before 
 Tom turned his head, which caused that 
 
777 /; JiACJIKLOlt ti CV/A YNY J/.IN I D 
 
 functionary to reflect that Mr. Wiggin was 
 getting a little deaf. He was looking straight 
 before him into the fire, as though he were 
 interested in the processes of combustion or 
 the price of coal. He turned at the second 
 summons with a start. 
 
 "What s that, Simon? Mr. Bell waiting 
 for me? Oh, of course; dinner is read} . 
 Tell him tell him," he added with a fever 
 ish, excited manner us he sprang to his feet, 
 "that I ll be with him hi a moment. I must 
 use the telephone first. I ll put it through," 
 he added to himself as he dashed from the 
 room, " if it takes a leg." 
 
 Whatever Tom was bent on almost cost 
 him a bone of some sort at the start, for just 
 beyond the door of the reading-room he 
 bumped full into George Hapgood, a stout, 
 dignified-looking man of about fifty. When 
 Tom realized who it was his eyes gleamed 
 joyously, and in lieu of an apology he blurted 
 out : 
 
 " You re just the man I m looking for, Hap- 
 good. Will you do me the favor to dine with 
 me to-morrow ? Now don t say you can t, for 
 you must." 
 
 " To-morrow ? To-morrow s Christmas, 
 
80 THE BACHELOR S CHEISTMAS 
 
 isn t it ? " was the inquiry, with just a shade 
 of melancholy in the tone. 
 
 " Yes. And we re out of it two old bach 
 elors like you and me. I m going to bring a 
 few choice spirits together to prove that the 
 things-in-law can t have all the fun. Say 
 you ll come. Here, at seven." 
 
 " I I was going to dine with my brother, 
 but I got a telegram from him this afternoon 
 saying that the children had broken out with 
 scarlet fever and 
 
 " I understand, old man. So did mine. I 
 mean we re all in the same boat. Then I 
 shall count on you at seven." 
 
 " Thank you kindly, Wiggin. I ll be glad 
 to come," answered Hapgood, with a grave, 
 courteous bow. Tom remembered having 
 heard it said that Hapgood had never really 
 smiled since his lady-love, Marian Blake, mar 
 ried Willis Bolles, twenty-five years before. 
 He was a brilliant lawyer and an influential 
 man, but he had never been known to smile, 
 and he habitually fought shy of all entertain 
 ments where the other sex was to be encoun 
 tered, as though he feared contagion. 
 
 " I thought I wouldn t tell him that there 
 might be women. It 11 do him good to meet 
 
THE BACHELORS CHRISTMAS 31 
 
 a few," chuckled Tom, as he pursued his way 
 to the telephone box. 
 
 "Is that Albion Hall?" 
 
 "Yes, seh." 
 
 "Is Mr. Maxwell there?" 
 
 " No, seh, Mr. Maxwell has gone home." 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 " The janitor, seh." 
 
 "Is the hail engaged for to-morrow 
 night ? " 
 
 " Can t say, seh. Haven t any orders. You 
 mean Christmas night, seh? " 
 
 " Yes, to-morrow, Christmas." 
 
 " Likely not, seh." 
 
 " Where does Mr. Maxwell live ? " 
 
 Plainville, seh." 
 
 " Humph ! Do you wish to make a ten- 
 dollar bill, janitor ? Very well. Take a car 
 riage and drive out to Plainville as tight as 
 you can fetch it, and find out if Mr. Thomas 
 Wiggin he knows me can have the hall to 
 morrow night. Tell Mr. Maxwell that if he ll 
 meet me at my rooms at eight o clock to 
 morrow, Christmas morning, I ll add twenty- 
 five per cent, to the price. Do you under 
 stand ? Now repeat what I ve said to you. 
 That s right. Go along now and report to me 
 
32 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 at the Blackstone Club as soon as you get 
 back, and for every five minutes which you 
 take from an hour and a half I ll add an extra 
 dollar to the ten." 
 
 Tom looked at his watch reflectively. It 
 was a quarter past seven. He must dine first, 
 if only not to break faith with Frazer Bell, 
 whom he had kept waiting abominably long 
 already. He stopped an instant, however, at 
 the office on his way to join Frazer, so as to 
 make sure that he could have the large green 
 dining-room for the following evening. 
 
 " To-morrow s Christmas, you know, Mr. 
 Wiggiii ? " suggested the steward, respect 
 fully. 
 
 " I know it, Dunklee. Is there any reason 
 why I shouldn t give a dinner party on Christ 
 mas day ? " 
 
 "No, sir, of course not. I merely thought 
 that perhaps you were going to dine else 
 where and had forgotten it was Christmas 
 day." 
 
 " I dine here, and I wish a dinner for, say 
 sixteen I can t tell the precise number yet 
 a ladies dinner. And I wish it to be as hand 
 some as possible. You mustn t fail me," he 
 added, noticing that the steward looked rather 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 33 
 
 dismayed. " Start your messengers at once 
 and spare no expense, if you have to drag the 
 butchers from their beds to get what you 
 need. I ll see to the flowers myself ; I havo 
 a greenhouse in my mind s eye which I intend 
 to buy solidly for the occasion." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Wiggiu, I ll do my best, 
 though it s late to begin, sir." 
 
 Frazer Bell was sitting before his raw oys 
 ters the picture of polite despair, seeing in 
 his mind s eye the delicate dinner which ho 
 had ordered being done to death and gettiug 
 lukewarm. 
 
 " My dear fellow, I owe you a thousand 
 pardons, but I had to telephone. If our din 
 ner is spoiled, or whether it is or not, I want 
 you to promise to dine with me to-morrow 
 night. I have evolved a scheme while we 
 were waiting, which I will unfold to you pres 
 ently. Go on with your oysters. I hope you 
 will forgive me." 
 
 "To-morrow, Christmas?" 
 
 " Yes. I propose to give an entertainment 
 to all the old bachelors and maiden ladies of 
 my acquaintance, if they ll come. A dinner 
 here followed by a dance at Albion Hall, and 
 Dunklee is arranging i or the dinner. I m 
 3 
 
34 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 going to invite all the old timers, and I need 
 your advice as to the list. For a starter I ll 
 put down the three Bellknap girls." 
 
 Tom whipped out his pencil and proceeded 
 to utilize the back of the bill of fare which 
 Frazer had had drawn up to gloat over. 
 
 " See first what you re going to eat, old 
 man." 
 
 " It s sure to be admirable if you ordered 
 it. It has always been a matter of wonder to 
 me that neither of those Bellknap girls have 
 married. Then there s Georgiana Dixon, in 
 the same block. Glad I remembered her. 
 Charming girl too. She ought to have been 
 married years ago. Come to think of it, you 
 used to be a friend of hers, Frazer." 
 
 " Yes, I did. What on earth are you up to, 
 Tom ? Are you in earnest ? " 
 
 "Never more so in my life. I tell you 
 there s a tacit conspiracy in this town I dare 
 say it s all over the planet against us poor 
 wretches who are old enough to be married 
 and haven t, and they the married ones I 
 mean like to keep us out in the cold, as a 
 sort of punishment, may be, because we ve 
 chosen to remain single. I m sick of it for 
 one, and I m going to organize a revolution. 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 35 
 
 I m going to have a grand family meeting of 
 all the poor lonely spirits like you and me and 
 the Bellknap girls and Georgiana Dixon and 
 George Hapgood, and and the things-in-law 
 may go to the devil. Now put your wits on 
 this thing, Frazer, while you disintegrate your 
 terrapin. Come, girls first." 
 
 " Do you suppose they ll ever come ? " asked 
 Frazer, with an amazed grin. He was essen 
 tially a conventional man without a spark of 
 imagination, and he could scarcely believe 
 that Tom was really in earnest. 
 
 "They ve got to come. Why shouldn t 
 they come ? " 
 
 " They ll think it queer." 
 
 " It isn t queer. It s righteous." 
 
 " All right. Put down Miss Mamie Scott. 
 She will never see thirty again." 
 
 " Capital. Poor soul ! A girl to make any 
 man happy." 
 . " There s Susan Davis." 
 
 "To be sure. She isn t pretty, but she s 
 good. Joe Elliott used to be partial to her 
 before he ran a rig with that smug-faced doll 
 who jilted him. What a fool he was ! We ll 
 ask him too." 
 
 To tell the truth, even the gastronomic 
 
36 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 Frazer Bell, in spite of the fact that the din 
 ner was very far from spoiled, presently for 
 got what he was eating and drinking in the 
 absorbing process of selection. By the time 
 the cheese and a rare glass of Burgundy ar 
 rived the list was finished, and Tom was eager 
 to escape to the reading-room to prepare the 
 notes of invitation, which must be sent at 
 once. There were forty-six in all to be in 
 vited, out of which he hoped to secure enough 
 for a full-fledged dinner party. Those who 
 could not come to dinner were to be urged to 
 join them at Albion Hall later. 
 
 The matter of wording the invitation was a 
 serious one, and Tom sat feeling of the bald 
 spot on his crown for several minutes. At 
 last, with a desperate air he plunged his pen 
 into the inkstand and wrote as follows to 
 Miss Madeline Bellknap : 
 
 " MY DEAR Miss BELLKNAP : I beg as a favor 
 that you and both your sisters will honor me 
 with your company at dinner to-morrow, De 
 cember 25th, at the Blackstone Club, at seven 
 o clock. I am bringing together, in celebra 
 tion of a bachelor s Christmas, a number of 
 kindred spirits who have no things-in-law to 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 37 
 
 cater to their sympathetic needs, and yet who 
 have a no less equal right to a merry Christ 
 mas. After dinner we shall adjourn to Al 
 bion Hall to dance, to which I trust that you 
 or some of you, if unable to dine with me, 
 will come at ten o clock. With the compli 
 ments of the season and the sincere hope that 
 you will oblige me, I am, 
 
 " Very sincerely yours, 
 
 " THOMAS WIGGIN." 
 
 " How is that, Frazer ? " 
 
 " I guess it s all right," said Frazer, in a 
 tone which suggested that he was far from 
 sure whether it was not all wrong. 
 
 " Perfectly respectful and to the point, isn t 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes. Hold on, Tom. How about a chap 
 eron ? They won t come without a chaperon." 
 
 Tom bit his lip. " I won t have a chaperon. 
 I ll be - - if I will have a chaperon." He 
 puckered his brow gloomily; then, with a 
 sudden wave of his hand, he cried, 
 
 " I have it." 
 
 Thereupon he dashed off this postscript : 
 
 " P.S. We are all old enough to take care 
 of ourselves." 
 
38 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 For the next two hours Tom and Frazer 
 devoted themselves with feverish industry to 
 the task of writing the two-score invitations. 
 In such an emergency forgery seemed allow 
 able, and, without attempting to imitate the 
 Wiggin chirography, Frazer boldly signed the 
 name of Thomas. As soon as every half- 
 dozen notes were finished they were hurried 
 to their destination by special messengers. 
 The clock struck half-past ten when the last 
 was done. Tom handed over to the boy in 
 attendance the final batch, all save a single 
 one. While he was writing this he could have 
 written half a dozen of the others, and now 
 that it was written and addressed he drew it 
 from the envelope to read once more the words 
 which he had penned so carefully. Their 
 tenor was essentially the same, but he had 
 stricken out a phrase or two here, and added 
 a phrase or two there, to make sure that she 
 would understand the nature of the invitation. 
 Then he arose with it in his hand and said, 
 " Good-night, Frazer. A thousand thanks. 
 I ll leave this one myself. Wish you merry 
 Christmas." 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 39 
 
 III 
 
 AT half past six on the evening of Christ 
 mas day Tom Wiggin stood in the large green 
 dining-room of the Blackstone Club, survey 
 ing a magnificently appointed table. Hoses, 
 pansies, and violets from the greenhouse 
 which he had bought out at ten o clock that 
 morning, lay tastefully banked and scattered 
 upon the cloth, intertwined with masses of 
 evergreen and holly gay with berries. Christ 
 mas wreaths and festoons were lavishly ar 
 ranged around the walls. Dunklee had as 
 sured him that there should be no dearth of 
 palatable viands, and, most important fact of 
 all, there had been twenty acceptances for 
 dinner, happily just ten men and ten women, 
 and nearly a dozen more acceptances for the 
 dance. He had been in a mad whirl since 
 daybreak, but he believed now that he had 
 accomplished everything except to arrange 
 the seats at table, which needed a little quiet 
 reflection. 
 
 The answers had begun to arrive shortly 
 after breakfast. The first had been a refusal, 
 a little curt and stiff in tone, as though the 
 
40 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 lady in question, notwithstanding the fact that 
 she had promised to dine with one of her 
 family, wished to give him to understand that 
 she took herself too seriously to accept such 
 an invitation under any circumstances. Tom s 
 heart sank within him, and he said to himself 
 that he had made a mess of it. Five minutes 
 later his features were as complacent as those 
 of a Cheshire cat. The Misses Bellknap were 
 coming, all three of them. They had ordered 
 dinner at home, but were coming notwith 
 standing, to help Mr. Wiggin pass a merry 
 Christmas and confound the things-in-law. 
 
 " They are three noble sports," Tom had 
 said to himself, as he danced around his 
 apartment waving the mildly scented note. 
 
 Other answers came thick and fast. Of 
 course many had engagements, but most of 
 these expressed deep regret at their inability 
 to attend, and several who could not come to 
 dinner promised to put in an appearance at 
 the dance. There were a few other chilling 
 refusals. Miss Susan Davis, whom Tom had 
 characterized as not pretty but good, let him 
 perceive very plainly that she considered the 
 invitation indelicate. On the other hand, Miss 
 Mamie Scott, who would never see thirty 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 41 
 
 again, had written him spiritedly that it was 
 a comfort to know that she was old enough to 
 take care of herself, and that she was coming 
 without her mother for the first time in her 
 life. 
 
 And she ? Tom had not heard until nearly 
 noon, and he had realized, as he held the little 
 neatly sealed note in his hand, that if she were 
 going to fail him his pleasure in the whole 
 business would be utterly gone. His wrist 
 shook as though he had the palsy, and he 
 hated to look. She was coming; yes, she 
 was coming. Her father and mother were 
 going to dine with her brother-in-law, and 
 though she had promised to do the same she 
 thought she would enjoy better the very origi 
 nal dinner to which he had invited her. 
 "And, as you say," she wrote in conclusion, 
 " we are certainly old enough to take care of 
 ourselves." She was coining ; yes, she was 
 coming, and whatever happened now, he was 
 going to have a merry Christmas. 
 
 And how was he to seat them? It was 
 rather a nice problem. To begin with, Tom 
 sandwiched in George Hapgood between the 
 eldest Miss Bellknap and Miss Mamie Scott, 
 which was as delightful a situation as any 
 
42 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 man could wish to have. Frazer Bell must 
 go beside Georgiana Dixon, and Harry Aber- 
 crombie, who had been dangling for years in 
 the train of Angelina Phillips until everybody 
 was tired, should take her in and have the 
 second Miss Bellknap on his other side. Tom 
 was making pretty good progress, but what 
 really troubled him was whether it would do 
 for him to place Isabelle Hardy next to him 
 self. Would not such a proceeding be quite 
 inconsistent with the vow which he had been 
 living up to for the past five years ? What 
 sense would there be in putting himself in 
 the way of temptation, when he knew per 
 fectly well that she did not care a button for 
 him ? What use, indeed ? And yet, as he 
 said to himself, Christmas comes but once a 
 year, and this was his party, and and had 
 not she herself stated that they certainly were 
 old enough now to take care of themselves ? 
 Why shouldn t he sit next to her ? He was 
 no longer the sentimental, hot-headed boy of 
 five years ago. They would enjoy themselves 
 like any other sober bachelor and old maid. 
 It would only be for one evening, and begin 
 ning with to-morrow he would stick to his 
 vow as sturdily as ever. Yes, he would take 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 43 
 
 in the eldest Miss Bellknap, who would be the 
 oldest woman present, and he would put Isa- 
 belle Hardy on his left. 
 
 When he had made this important decision 
 Tom found the arrangement of his other guests 
 a simple matter, and after one final scrutiniz 
 ing, but tolerably contented, glance around 
 the table, he walked into the ladies drawing- 
 room to await the arrival of his company. 
 
 Punctually on the stroke of seven, the three 
 Misses Bellknap swept into the room in a 
 merry flutter. They were tall bean-poles of 
 girls, who had naturally a prancing style, and 
 they were in their very best bib and tucker, 
 which included great puffed sleeves and nod 
 ding plumes in their hair. In one breath 
 they told Tom that they considered it a grand 
 idea, that they had been practically nowhere 
 for years, and that it was a real pleasure to be 
 thought of and taken down from the shelf, if 
 only for a single evening. It was evident that 
 they had come determined to have at least a 
 good time, if not a riot, for when their eyes 
 rested on George Hapgood standing in the 
 door- way the picture of blank amazement, all 
 three giggled convulsively as though they 
 were eighteen. 
 
44 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 " Come in, George, don t be afraid," said 
 Tom. " They won t bite." 
 
 " We really won t hurt you, Mr. Hapgood," 
 said Miss Madeline, the eldest ; " do come 
 in." 
 
 It was too late for the woman-hater to 
 draw back now, so, like the man he was, he 
 braced his muscles and faced the music. 
 He bowed with grave courtesy to the young 
 est Miss Bellknap ; he bowed with a faint 
 smile just a ghostly glimmer, but, neverthe 
 less, a smile to Miss Arabella, the second 
 Miss Bellknap ; and when he faced the eld 
 est Miss Bellknap, who happening to be the 
 furthest away from him was the last to be 
 reached, his features broke down completely, 
 and he positively laughed laughed for the 
 first time in twenty years. 
 
 "Do shake hands, Mr. Hapgood," said 
 Miss Madeline ; "this is like old times." 
 
 And now everybody began to arrive in a 
 bunch in the midst of a general handshaking 
 and chorus of merriment. The arrival of 
 each old stager, masculine or feminine, was 
 greeted with fresh exclamations of delight, 
 and a spirit of contagious frivolity was ram 
 pant from the very start. 
 
THE BACHELORS CHRISTMAS 45 
 
 Tom was already bubbling over with en 
 joyment, but his eyes were glued on the 
 doorway. There she was at last, looking 
 yes, looking younger and prettier than he 
 had ever seen her in his life, and dressed be- 
 witchingly. An old maid ! It was impossi 
 ble. It was monstrous. 
 
 " It was very good of you to come, Miss 
 Hardy." 
 
 " I am very much pleased to be here, Mr. 
 Wiggin." 
 
 Most conventional phraseology, and there 
 was really no reason why Tom should keep 
 repeating the words over to himself in a 
 dazed sort of fashion until he was called to 
 account by the opening of the doors. 
 
 "Dinner is served, sir." 
 
 Then readjusting his faculties, Tom gave 
 his arm to Miss Madeline Bellknap, every 
 Jack did the same to his appointed Jill, and 
 the company filed gayly into the dining- 
 room. 
 
 Beginning with the oysters, there was 
 almost a pandemonium of conversation, and 
 tongues wagged fast and eagerly. There 
 were to be no speeches Tom had deter 
 mined on that or rather only a single one, 
 
46 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 and this was an after-thought. When the 
 champagne was passed, and all the glasses 
 were filled, Tom rose in his seat. Everyone 
 stopped talking, and there was an expectant 
 hush. 
 
 " I wish to offer a toast," he said, " a toast 
 for the old bachelors to drink. Wish you 
 merry Christmas and and here s to her ! " 
 
 There was a brief pause, and then George 
 Hapgood, and in his wake the whole table, 
 rose like one man and emptied their brim 
 ming glasses. 
 
 " Here s to her ! " 
 
 Tom did not look to right nor to left, not 
 even out of the corner of his eye, as he 
 drained to the last drop the sparkling wine. 
 He would keep to his vow and drink to -her 
 in secret. Some of the ladies giggled 
 slightly, and all looked at their plates. It 
 was just a little awkward, even for the most 
 unattached, until Miss Madeline Bellknap 
 rose, glass in hand, and said valiantly, with 
 a wave of her napkin : 
 
 " My dears, I give you a toast for you to 
 drink. Wish you merry Christmas. We are 
 old enough to take care of ourselves ; and 
 and here s to him ! " 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 47 
 
 Then there was babel. The women stood 
 up to a woman, and the toast was consum 
 mated. 
 
 Miss Hardy laughed gayly with the rest. 
 Presently she turned to Tom and said, as if 
 it had suddenly occurred to her, though they 
 had been sitting side by side talking com 
 monplaces ever since dinner began : 
 
 " I have not really seen you for years, Mr. 
 Wiggin." 
 
 " I have been busy very busy," said Tom, 
 in a tone which, though he did not intend it 
 to be so, was almost brusque. 
 
 " So I have heard. I understand you have 
 been very successful in your business." 
 
 " I have stuck to it, that s all." 
 
 "I really don t think we have met so as to 
 talk together since Mrs. Carter s ball, and 
 that was let me see five years ago this 
 coming New Year s eve. I remember we 
 danced the German together, and you sent 
 me some flowers which I didn t carry. Per 
 haps you have forgotten all about it, for five 
 years is a long time and you have been so 
 busy; but I should like to explain to you 
 about those flowers why I didn t carry them. 
 We are both old enough now to take care of 
 
48 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 ourselves, so there can t be any objection to 
 rny telling you, and and you won t be of 
 fended at this late day, I m sure. I had sev 
 eral bouquets that night, and Fannie Perkins, 
 who was staying with me, had none. Fan 
 nie was shy and sensitive, and it occurred to 
 me to ofter one of mine to her. She wouldn t 
 think of it at first, but mother urged her so 
 strongly that she gave in at last. l Which 
 shall I take, Isabelle ? she asked. I thought 
 a moment and then said, Take your pick, 
 Fannie. And she chose yours. And that is 
 why I didn t carry it to the party. But I 
 think you have forgotten all about it, Mr. 
 Wiggin." 
 
 Tom looked as though he had. His chin 
 rested on his collar, and he seemed to be 
 staring at the table-cloth. 
 
 " I remember it as if it were yesterday," 
 he said, sadly. " I was a fool." 
 
 Miss Hardy colored. " We were both 
 young," she answered, " but now that we are 
 older and wiser, I don t mind admitting on 
 my side that it was stupid of me, to begin 
 with, to give one of my bouquets to any 
 body, and stupid when I saw that you were 
 put out not to tell you the truth. But wis- 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 49 
 
 dom is the reward of years, isn t it? " She 
 talked easily, almost gayly. Tom suddenly 
 realized that he had made a piece of bread 
 which he had been clutching into a sodden 
 
 ball. 
 
 "I d like to ask you a single question." 
 He was trying to talk easily too. " Why did 
 you let Miss Perkins have her pick? Did 
 you value them all equally ? " 
 
 " It was because I did not value them all 
 equally that I told her to choose. I did not 
 wish her to think that I cared for one more 
 than the others." 
 
 " And whose was that ? " 
 " Five years is a long time, Mr. Wiggin. 
 You said a single question, and this is two. 
 Alas ! It is the only point in the story which 
 I have quite forgotten." 
 
 " Then why did you tell me ? " 
 " Because I hoped that we might befriends 
 again. When people get to be as old as you 
 and I we value our old friends. There are 
 none exactly like them." 
 " And that is all?" 
 
 "What more is there, Mr. Wiggin? Ex 
 cept to thank you for your lovely book, and 
 to wish you a merry Christmas." 
 4 
 
60 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 " The carriages are waiting," said a ser 
 vant in Tom s ear. 
 
 The dinner was over and it was time to 
 set out for Albion Hall. The ladies filed 
 into the drawing-room, in order, as Miss 
 Madeline phrased it, to give the old bache 
 lors a chance for a short cigar. When that 
 was over Tom bundled his company into 
 carriages, and away they all went in the gay 
 est of spirits. 
 
 Whatever belonging to the greenhouse had 
 not been spread over the dinner-table adorn 
 ed the walls of the dancing-room, and pres 
 ently as joyous and hilarious a company 
 as anyone would wish to see was tripping to 
 the rhythm of the waltz over a perfect floor. 
 There was just the right number for delight 
 ful dancing, no young inexperienced couples 
 to bump into everybody, no things-in-law to 
 stand in the way and look stupid ; no one but 
 genuine old stagers taken down from the 
 shelf for one last glorious frolic. You should 
 have seen George Hapgood spinning round 
 with Miss Madeline! How Frazer Bell 
 grinned as he whirled Miss Mamie Scott from 
 one corner of the hall to the other ! And 
 Tom ? Where was Tom ? 
 
QUITE CONTRARY TO THE SPIRIT OF THE OCCASION, 
 HE WAS DOWN ON HIS KNEES 
 
THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 51 
 
 As some of you who have danced at Albion 
 Hall may remember, there is a very small 
 bower-like ante-room, or off-shoot, or what 
 ever you choose to call it, a sort of adjunct to 
 the supper-room, fit for just one couple to 
 withdraw to. On this Christmas evening it 
 was a veritable hiding-place, for the entrance 
 to it was screened by two noble evergreens 
 which stood as sentinels to demand a pass 
 word. If the gay company suspected that 
 Tom Wiggin was there, no one was rash 
 enough to peep within and ascertain. Tom 
 "Wiggin ivas there, and quite contrary to the 
 spirit of the occasion, he was down on his 
 knees unbosoming the love which he had 
 been smothering for five years to the girl of 
 his heart. Only think of it ! And he, a 
 bald-headed old bachelor, and she an old 
 maid old enough to take care of herself. 
 There she sat with her hands before her and 
 a smile on her face, letting him go on. And 
 then, strangest part of all, when he had fin 
 ished and told how miserable he had been 
 while he was so very busy and absorbed in 
 his business, she suddenly remembered 
 whose bouquet it was she had valued most 
 five years before, although she had declared 
 
52 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 an hour earlier that she had totally forgotten. 
 And then but the rest is a secret, known 
 only to the sentinel evergreens and them 
 selves. That is, the rest save one thing. It 
 was after they had agreed to live as bachelor 
 and maid no longer, and Tom was sitting 
 looking at Isabelle as if he had had no din 
 ner, he remarked, with a sudden outburst, as 
 though he were angry with destiny and a 
 much outraged being : 
 
 " Why on earth did I not find out five 
 years ago that you loved me? " 
 
 "Because," said the pretty spinster in 
 question, " you never asked me, Tom, dear." 
 
 Tom Wiggin looked a trifle sheepish in 
 spite of his joy. "I never thought of that," 
 he said. "I am afraid I never did." 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
52 THE BACHELOR S CHRISTMAS 
 
 an hour earlier that she had totally forgotten. 
 And then but the rest is a secret, known 
 only to the sentinel evergreens and them 
 selves. That is, the rest save one thing. It 
 was after they had agreed to live as bachelor 
 and maid no longer, and Tom was sitting 
 looking at Isabelle as if he had had no din 
 ner, he remarked, with a sudden outburst, as 
 though he were angry with destiny and a 
 much outraged being : 
 
 "Why on earth did I not find out five 
 years ago that you loved me? " 
 
 "Because," said the pretty spinster in 
 question, " you never asked me, Tom, dear." 
 
 Tom Wiggin looked a trifle sheepish in 
 spite of his joy. "I never thought of that," 
 he said. "I am afraid I never did." 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 ONE af teraoou not many years ago, Henry 
 Alleyn received word from the hospi 
 tal of the Sisterhood of St. Vincent de Paul 
 that Margaret Hogan, an old woman who had 
 nursed him as a baby, was very sick and de 
 sired him to draw her will before she died. 
 Accordingly he hastened there, taking with 
 him a young man who was studying law in his 
 office. It surprised Alley u that Margaret had 
 been carried to the hospital, for he had seen 
 her within a week at her own house where he 
 was in the habit of paying her occasional vis 
 its to relieve her solitude. She had men 
 tioned feeling slightly ill, but, as Alleyn had 
 heard nothing from her since, he had assumed 
 that she must be convalescent. He reflected 
 that she would scarcely have consented to be 
 removed to the Sisterhood unless she had 
 been seriously sick, and he felt annoyed that 
 
5G AX EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 she had not notified him of her condition, es 
 pecially as he well knew that her failure to 
 do so proceeded from an absurd reluctance to 
 trouble him, as she called it. 
 
 Alleyn was a rising lawyer of about five 
 and thirty, whose conduct of causes had be 
 gun to attract attention, which was all the 
 more flattering for the reason that he had 
 come to town but ten years before an un 
 known youth, without powerful friends to 
 help him on. It was true of him, however, 
 that he was a college graduate, and the pos 
 sessor of an intelligent face and refined man 
 ners which had soon obtained him admission 
 into society. To crown his success, he had 
 within six months become engaged to a 
 charming woman. His future looked bright. 
 He was recognized at the Bar as a man 
 wholly to be trusted. 
 
 " I m afraid that poor Margaret must bo 
 on her last legs," he soliloquized as they pro 
 ceeded. " I m going," he explained to the 
 student, " to see an old woman who took 
 care of me as a child a faithful, devoted soul 
 as ever lived. She wants me to make her 
 wall. I don t suppose she has much to leave ; 
 though, come to think of it, I believe she 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 57 
 
 owns the little house she lives in free of in- 
 cumbrances. They have sent me word from 
 the hospital to come at once, so she must be 
 pretty sick, I fear." 
 
 " People of that class are apt to imagine 
 themselves at the point of death from very 
 slight cause, are they not ? " inquired John 
 Larkin, who, out of respect to his senior, 
 gave an interrogative form to this cynicism. 
 
 " Yes, but Margaret is well advanced now, 
 and I have noticed for the last six months 
 that she seemed feeble. I am apprehensive 
 in her case. It was a curious chance," 
 Alleyn continued, "that let me know her 
 whereabouts, some time ago, shortly after I 
 moved here. We had lost track of her for 
 years, as she left my mother s service while 
 I was still a child. It appears she drifted 
 from place to place and finally came to this 
 city to live with a sister. The sister died 
 before very long, and about the same time 
 Margaret chanced to run across my name in 
 the newspaper as counsel in the Brady 
 breach of promise case, which you remem 
 ber made some stir. With an old woman s 
 faith she assumed that it must be I and 
 looked me up at the office. When she dis- 
 
58 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 covered her long lost boy, as she styled me, 
 she was for throwing her arms around my 
 neck. She sobbed with delight, and I be 
 came the hero of a somewhat embarrassing 
 spectacle. Faithful old soul ! I cannot bear 
 to think of her suffering." 
 
 " It is what we seem to be made for," ob 
 served the sententious student. 
 
 " But then most of us deserve it. I could 
 almost vouch that Margaret never did an 
 evil action in her life," said Alleyn as he 
 rang at the entrance to the hospital. 
 
 Upon mentioning his errand to the servant 
 who came to the door, Alleyn was shown into 
 a reception-room, and a few moments later 
 was informed that he was to go upstairs 
 to the invalid s chamber. He told Larkin 
 to remain below until he should send for 
 him. 
 
 " How is Margaret to-night ? " he asked of 
 the girl who showed him the way. 
 
 " The doctor thinks she may live a day or 
 two yet, sir." 
 
 On the first landing Alleyn encountered a 
 pleasant-featured woman in nun s attire who 
 accorded him a gracious inclination of the 
 head, in response to which he said : 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 50 
 
 " I m the lawyer whom Margaret Hogan 
 sent for." 
 
 " Yes, she is expecting you ; her room is 
 up another flight. The Mother is with her." 
 
 " Who was that ? " he inquired of the ser 
 vant when they were out of hearing. 
 
 " Sister Veronica." 
 
 Alleyn was struck by the neatness of every 
 thing ; the walls were very white, and as he 
 followed the girl along the passage-way he 
 caught a glimpse through the half-open doors 
 of comfortable looking invalids attended now 
 and again by a Sister of Charity. He re 
 flected that Margaret had acted wisely in 
 being brought there. 
 
 " You may go right in, sir," said the girl, 
 pushing open the door of the room at the 
 farther end of the passage-way. 
 
 Alleyn entered a moderate -sized chamber. 
 At first he perceived only his old nurse, 
 whose pallid, wrinkled face riveted his atten 
 tion. Her bed was near the door and she 
 recognized him at once, grasping eagerly the 
 hand which he held out to her with the skin 
 ny fingers of both of her own, and exclaim 
 ing : " You ve come at last. I thought I d 
 die before you come, Master Henry." 
 
60 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 " Nonsense, Margaret, you mustn t talk 
 that way ; you ll be better in a day or two." 
 
 "No, no, I ll never be any better," an 
 swered the old woman in a tone of sad con 
 viction. " I m wore out. Sit down, Master 
 Henry, the Mother ll give you a chair," she 
 continued, sinking back on the pillows from 
 which she had raised herself a little in her 
 eagerness to greet the young man. 
 
 There was a chair a few feet from the bed ; 
 while reaching for it Alleyn lifted his eyes 
 and beheld a Sister of Charity standing in 
 the further end of the room with her back to 
 the window. He gave a perceptible start ; 
 he could not believe that he saw correctly. 
 " Cora! " he ejaculated below his breath, then 
 made a movement as if to step forward, 
 which was checked by the demeanor of the 
 nun, who, though she had been regarding 
 him since his entrance, gave no sign of rec 
 ognition save what was conveyed to Alleyn 
 by the faint blush suffusing her countenance ; 
 even this was now fading away, betokening 
 that any emotion which his presence had 
 awakened was under her control. As he 
 stood confused and irresolute, she bent her 
 head in a conventional salute, and when their 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 01 
 
 eyes met again there was no vestige of mental 
 agitation on her face. Her complexion had 
 resumed its accustomed marble a perfect 
 whiteness, rendered all the more striking by 
 the blackness of her hair and superb eyes 
 which rivalled in sombreness her monastic 
 garb. She stood with her hands folded 
 placidl} 7 before her, the picture of a tall, com 
 manding, and singularly beautiful woman. 
 
 The pause was broken by old Margaret, 
 who, unaware of its significance, and feeling 
 perhaps that every moment was precious to 
 her, craned her head out of bed and qua 
 vered : " This is the Mother, Master Henry 
 I beg your pardon, sir, Mr. Alley n. She 
 has been very kind to me. Don t go, Moth 
 er," she exclaimed piteously, as the nun, 
 again inclining her head, stepped toward the 
 door. " Master Henry won t mind." 
 
 " You had better stay," said Alleyn, com 
 posedly ; " it will distress her if you go, and 
 there is no reason for privacy, I imagine." 
 
 At his words the nun, after a moment s 
 hesitation, withdrew again to the further end 
 of the room, where she took a seat by the 
 window. Alleyn, who, though his voice was 
 steady, felt strangely agitated, was glad to 
 
f>2 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 be recalled to his professional duty by the 
 voice of the dying woman. 
 
 " You ll find everything ready, sir, on that 
 little table/ 
 
 Following the direction of her gaze, he 
 perceived behind him, close to the wainscot 
 ing, the table to which she referred and on 
 which there were writing materials and an 
 accumulation of papers most of them, as he 
 perceived at a glance, receipted bills. He 
 drew it toward the bed and seated himself. 
 His head was in a whirl, but taking up a 
 pen he said, "You wish me to make your 
 will, Margaret ? " 
 
 " I want you to fix it so there won t bo no 
 trouble after I m gone." 
 
 " I see. To whom do you wish to leave 
 your money ? " 
 
 " Whom should I be leaving it to but your 
 self, Master Henry ? " 
 
 " To me ? Nonsense, Margaret ; I don t 
 wan t your money." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Master Henry ; you and no one 
 else. Who has a better right to it ? You as 
 I took care of close on ten year ! " 
 
 " I m a thousand times obliged to you, my 
 kind old friend," said Alleyn, tenderly, bend- 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 63 
 
 ing over her, " but I would rather you would 
 make some other disposition of it. You must 
 have relations " 
 
 "No, no," interrupted the sick woman 
 peevishly ; " there s not a dollar of it to go 
 to my relations. They never came near me 
 while I was alive. There s no one I care for 
 but you. I said to Mother Eulalie this morn 
 ing, Send for Master Henry and I ll die 
 happy. I ve thought it all out and I know 
 just what I want." 
 
 " You will make a much better use of what 
 you have if you leave it in charity to your 
 Church, for instance," persisted Alleyn. 
 
 " No, no," she reiterated ; "I want it all to 
 go to you. And, Master Henry," she whis 
 pered, confidentially, reaching out her hand 
 and laying it upon Alleyn s, " you ll see there 
 are masses said for me and I m put in a de 
 cent grave ? I don t like them tombs. I had 
 the undertaker here this morning and told 
 him all about burying me, so you ll have no 
 trouble." 
 
 To draw a will in his own favor was dis 
 tasteful to Alleyn, but he reflected that the 
 presence of Mother Eulalie, who, from where 
 she was sitting, must be able to hear every 
 
64 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 word of their conversation, would preclude 
 the possibility of disagreeable charges being 
 brought against him by the next of kin. He 
 was anxious, moreover, to get the matter over 
 as soon as possible, for memories foreign to 
 what he had in hand, and not altogether 
 pleasant, were thronging his brain. He 
 glanced in the direction of the nun ; she was 
 staring straight before her at the blank wall, 
 and Alleyn s gaze was fettered a moment by 
 the beauty of her profile. He sighed and 
 turned back his e} 7 es again to the bed, with 
 the compressed lips of one who feels that 
 what, however lamentable, has been done, 
 is done, and that it is useless to deplore. 
 
 " Of course, I am bound to obey your 
 wishes in the matter, Margaret," he answered ; 
 " if you really desire to leave your property 
 to me. I must draw your will to that effect. 
 Only- 
 
 " That s it, Master Henry." 
 
 " Very well," he said, and after a moment s 
 reflection dipped a pen in the ink and began 
 to write. The will was a very .simple one 
 and took Alley n barely ten minutes to draw. 
 By its terms all the estate of Margaret Hogan, 
 of whatever kind, both real and personal, 
 
AN EYE FOR AN KYK C5 
 
 wherever situated and whenever acquired, was 
 given, devised, and bequeathed to Henry 
 Alleyn, his heirs, executors, and adminis 
 trators, to his and their own use and behoof 
 forever. Said Henry Alleyn was also ap 
 pointed Executor with the usual powers dele 
 gated ; that was the whole instrument. When 
 he had finished he told Margaret that he must 
 read it to her, which he did, in a slow, dis 
 tinct voice so that she might understand 
 every word. While so doing, he glanced for 
 an instant in Mother Eulalie s direction, but 
 it did not seem to him that she was paying 
 attention. 
 
 "Is that as you wish it, Margaret?" he in 
 quired at the close. 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir, it s beautiful. Now I shall 
 die happy." 
 
 Just then the door was pushed open and 
 Sister Veronica appeared. " It s tho doctor," 
 she said ; " may he come in ? " 
 
 "Certainly," said Alleyn, "he s the very 
 person I want to see. Will you kindly re 
 main too ? " he added to Sister Veronica as 
 he stepped past her to intercept the physician 
 before he should enter. "I shall need you 
 presently." 
 
66 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 The interchange of a few words in the pas 
 sage-way assured Alleyn that Margaret s fac 
 ulties were entirely unclouded in the estima 
 tion of the doctor, who did not hesitate to 
 pronounce her competent to make a will, and 
 who also consented to act as an attesting wit 
 ness. Alleyn then sent for John Larkin, and 
 while the clerk was coming Margaret was 
 propped up on the pillows by Sister Veronica. 
 
 " How long will she live ? " whispered 
 Alleyn. 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "May 
 be a week, and she may die to-morrow. It s 
 impossible to say in such cases." 
 
 Larkin made his appearance just when the 
 old woman had got on her spectacles. Mother 
 Eulalie was still in the background, and 
 Alleyn chose to remain as indifferent to her 
 presence as she seemed to be to his. 
 
 He looked at Sister Veronica and said : "I 
 have asked you to remain to witness this will," 
 then turned and indicating a spot on the 
 paper said : " You will sign here, Margaret." 
 
 With infinite pains the old woman feebly 
 scrawled her signature. 
 
 " I ain t much of a writer," she observed, 
 squinting ruefully at her handiwork. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYK 67 
 
 " It will do very well," said Alleyn. " Now, 
 Doctor. Margaret," he added, " I understand 
 you to declare this to be your last will and 
 testament." 
 
 "Yes, sir," she answered in rather a be 
 wildered fashion. She had fallen back ex 
 hausted. 
 
 " And it is your wish that these three per 
 sons Dr. Holbrook, Sister Veronica, and my 
 clerk, Mr. Larkin should sign as attesting 
 witnesses." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 The witnesses signed in the order de 
 scribed. 
 
 " You should sign your real name, you 
 know," Alleyn remarked to the Sister. 
 
 "I know," she said, and wrote " Catharine 
 Sullivan." 
 
 " That is all ; thank you very much," said 
 Alleyn when the last had finished. The doc 
 tor and Sister Veronica immediately took their 
 leave. " I shall not need you any longer," 
 he added to Larkin. "Don t wait for me." 
 
 Alleyn sat down beside the bed and began 
 to fold up the will. 
 
 " I shall die happy, now," Margaret reiter 
 ated. 
 
CS AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 11 You mustn t think of dying ; yon must 
 think of getting well," he felt prompted to 
 say. 
 
 " Yon ll find everything right," she con 
 tinued, without heed. " The Mother went 
 to my house yesterday and got the bank 
 books and things. There s what I ve paid 
 out in repairs and groceries since the first," 
 she added, pointing with pride to the pile of 
 bills on the table. " I told the Mother you d 
 ought to have them. The other things " 
 
 "Yes, yes, Margaret, it ll be time enough 
 by and by," he said, cheerily, getting up and 
 bending over her. " You ll be better to-mor 
 row, and I ll come to see you. I m afraid of 
 tiring you." 
 
 " Good-by, Master Henry, good-by. And 
 you ll remember to have the masses said for 
 me?" 
 
 "Never fear, you dear old soul." 
 
 He kissed her softly on the forehead, then 
 as he turned to go looked toward the window. 
 Mother Eulalie was sitting with her hands 
 folded before her, still staring at the blank 
 wall. She might have been a statue. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 69 
 
 MARGARET HOGAN died that night. A sud 
 den stroke of apoplexy relieved her from fur 
 ther suffering. Alleyn was shocked to hear 
 that she was dead from the undertaker who 
 came to his office on the following morning 
 for instructions. He gave the necessary or 
 ders for her interment, and a day or two after 
 his old nurse had been laid in her grave filed 
 the will, which he had drawn, at the Probate 
 Office with a petition to be appointed Execu 
 tor. Not knowing who were Margaret s next 
 of kin, he published an order of notice, and 
 on the day fixed for the hearing, as no re 
 monstrants appeared, he had no difficulty in 
 obtaining letters of administration from the 
 Court. There was, however, a right of ap 
 peal open for thirty days. 
 
 Meantime, Alleyn took no steps to reduce 
 the estate into possession, beyond visiting 
 the house and seeing that it was properly 
 closed. He assumed, from what Margaret 
 had said, that her bank-books and any other 
 property belonging to her were in the custody 
 of Mother Eulalie, and for reasons of his own 
 
70 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 he was in no hurry to revisit the Sisterhood 
 of St. Vincent de Paul. 
 
 But after the thirty days had elapsed he 
 felt it incumbent on him to exercise his 
 duties as Executor. It occurred to him that 
 the simplest plan was to send John Larkin 
 to request Mother Eulalie to deliver over the 
 effects of the testatrix. As a matter of cau 
 tion, however, he told him to stop at the 
 Probate Office on the way, to make sure that 
 no appeal had been entered. Half an hour 
 later the student reappeared with a sardonic 
 grin on his countenance. 
 
 " There is one," he said, and produced a 
 paper which he handed to Alleyn. 
 
 The lawyer received the copy of the record 
 with a shrug of the shoulders, but after pe 
 rusing it for a moment knit his brows and 
 observed : " This is confounded impudence. 
 Whom have they retained? " 
 
 " Koger K. Harper," responded Larkin, 
 with another grin. 
 
 The counsel mentioned was one of the 
 most successful jury lawyers in the commu 
 nity, but a man not over nice in the devices he 
 employed to secure verdicts, and more or less 
 of a demagogue. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 71 
 
 The document recited that an appeal was 
 claimed by John Rooney and Ellen Rooney, 
 next of kin, from the decree of the Court al 
 lowing a certain instrument offered for pro 
 bate by Henry Alleyn, wherein said Alleyn 
 was named as Executor, as the last will and 
 testament of Margaret Hogan, deceased. 
 Two of the reasons given, being those ordi 
 narily alleged in probate appeals, were the 
 mental unsoundness of the testatrix and un 
 due influence on the part of said Henry Al 
 leyn ; but the third was of more unusual ten 
 or, setting forth that said instrument offered 
 for probate was not the last will and testa 
 ment of Margaret Hogan, inasmuch as said 
 instrument had been fraudulently altered in 
 the making by said Henry Alleyn. 
 
 Alleyn tossed the paper on his desk with a 
 contemptuous air. " It is ODe of Harper s 
 blood-sucking devices," he said. " He means 
 to bleed me if he can. He has fastened on 
 the wrong man though, as he will find out." 
 
 The appeal could not be heard for three 
 months, so Alleyn gave the matter but small 
 heed. So far as desire for the money was 
 concerned, he would willingly have relin 
 quished all claim to it ; but he felt bound 
 
72 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 to respect Margaret s intention. She had 
 evidently preferred to cut off her relatives, 
 and Alleyn argued that it would hardly 
 be respectful if he should vacate his rights 
 merely to dispose of a disagreeable suit which 
 was absolutely groundless. Until the appeal 
 should be tried his powers as Executor were 
 suspended. Accordingly he addressed a for 
 mal letter to the Sisterhood of St. Vincent de 
 Paul, to the effect that as certain complica 
 tions had arisen in relation to the affairs of 
 the late Margaret Hogan, her Executor would 
 await their settlement before taking posses 
 sion of the property of the deceased. To 
 this communication Alleyn received no an 
 swer. 
 
 As time wore on he was rather surprised 
 at hearing nothing from the other side. He 
 fully expected to be approached with a view 
 to a compromise, and had been looking for 
 ward to the amusement he should derive 
 from disappointing his pettifogging oppo 
 nent. To make the first advances himself 
 would be clearly an admission of weakness. 
 Besides, he was resolved not to pay a dollar. 
 When a week before the day of trial he had 
 still heard nothing he put his case into the 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 73 
 
 hands of Charles Davenant, an intimate friend 
 and brother lawyer of repute, who was some 
 years his senior. 
 
 "It s a fishing excursion, I take it," said 
 Mr. Davenant, when Alleyn had finished his 
 recital. 
 
 " I had supposed so, certainly. But I m 
 at a loss to understand why Harper has not 
 been near me. There must be some cat in 
 the meal, I am beginning to think, though I 
 can t imagine what. Dr. Holbrook will tes 
 tify as to Margaret s mental condition, and as 
 to undue influence there isn t a shadow of 
 evidence. The only time she ever spoke to 
 me about her will was the day she made it." 
 
 " How about the third reason ? " asked Mr. 
 Davenant. " It is so unusual that I should 
 judge they expected to make something out 
 of it." 
 
 " It is insulting enough, I admit ; but what 
 have they got to substantiate it ? " said Al 
 leyn, with some irritation. 
 
 " You say that while you were drawing the 
 will there was no one in the room except this 
 Mother Eulalie?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What sort of a looking woman was she ? " 
 
 
74: AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 " A young woman a very handsome wom 
 an," said Alleyn, with slow emphasis. 
 
 " Could she have heard your client s con 
 versation ? " 
 
 " She could have heard it, unquestionably, 
 but I doubt very much if she did. I looked 
 at her several times, and on each occasion 
 she seemed to me not to be paying the slight 
 est attention to what was going on. She was 
 sitting close to the window some twenty-five 
 feet away. You see I have considered the 
 situation. But what if she did hear us ? " he 
 added, with a nervous laugh. 
 
 " Have you been to see her ? " asked Mr. 
 Davenant. 
 
 "No. I er I thought it better not. 
 Don t you think it would be compromis- 
 ing?" 
 
 The senior shrugged his shoulders. "I 
 appreciate your point, of course, but I do 
 not regard it as of much moment. By so 
 doing you could relieve your uncertainty and 
 ascertain whether or not to summon her as a 
 witness. If her testimony corroborates yours, 
 there s an end of the whole business. If, on 
 the other hand, it fails to do so, you will not 
 be caught unprepared." 
 
AN ETE FOR AN EYE 75 
 
 " How can her testimony fail to corrobo 
 rate mine ? " Alleyn asked, with another 
 touch of indignation. 
 
 " Ah, my dear fellow, there you ask conun 
 drums. Forewarned is forearmed, that s all. 
 If there is anything in the case beyond mere 
 bluff, I am inclined to believe that it must be 
 in connection with this Mother Eulalie, as 
 you call her. She may have looked wise or 
 dropped dark hints which these ignorant peo 
 ple have repeated to brother Harper. When 
 you have been in practice as long as I have 
 you will appeciate that you can never be 
 sure what anyone will testify especially a 
 woman." 
 
 Alleyn frowned and looked annoyed. 
 
 " I understood you to state that you asked 
 the testatrix if she didn t wish to leave some 
 thing to the Church," continued Mr. Dave- 
 nant. 
 
 " Yes ; and she said distinctly that she did 
 not." 
 
 " Precisely. Supposing Mother Eulalie 
 testifies that she heard differently ? " 
 
 " It would be a falsehood," protested Al 
 leyn, with a warmth that amused the older 
 lawyer. 
 
76 ^V EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 " The jury would have to pass upon that," 
 was the dry comment. 
 
 Alleyn drummed on the table reflectively 
 for a few moments. " I don t care to go to 
 see her," he said, at length. " I ll take the 
 chance," he added, with an effort at noncha 
 lance. 
 
 " Ninety-nine chances out of a hundred 
 you will be just as well off," said Mr. Dav- 
 enant. 
 
 A few days later Alleyn read in one of the 
 morning papers the following statement : 
 " Among the causes set down for trial at the 
 current term of the Supreme Court is Henry 
 Alleyn, Executor, v. John Eooney and Ellen 
 Rooney, appellants ; an appeal from the find 
 ing of the Probate Court of this County, al 
 lowing the will of one Margaret Hogan, who 
 died during the last six months, leaving an 
 estate valued at thirty thousand dollars, all 
 of which by the terms of the will was be 
 queathed to Henry Alleyn, a lawyer of this 
 city. The next of kin, first cousins of the 
 testatrix, allege in their petition insanity, un 
 due influence, and fraudulent alteration of the 
 contents of the will by Mr. Alleyn, who ap 
 pears to have drawn the instrument in ques- 
 
AN EYE FOR A3 ETE 77 
 
 tion. Hon. Roger K. Harper has been re 
 tained to represent the interests of the 
 appellants, and it is reported that there will 
 be peculiar and startling developments at the 
 trial." 
 
 "Thirty thousand dollars! Bah!" said 
 Alleyn to himself after the disagreeable 
 smart occasioned by seeing his name in print 
 in such a connection had subsided. " Though, 
 to tell the truth, I don t know what she left. 
 The house is worth six thousand. This busi 
 ness has taught me one lesson : never to 
 draw a will in my own favor again. Pshaw ! " 
 he added, reflectively. "Even if Cora wishes 
 to do me an injury, what can she say ? " 
 
 On the morning of the day fixed for the 
 trial Alleyn came into the court-room with a 
 deliberately cheery air. Counsel were already 
 in their places and there was a considerable 
 number of lookers on. He glanced at once 
 toward the benches reserved for witnesses and 
 recognized only Dr. Holbrook, whom he had 
 summoned to be present. Just then the at 
 tention of every one was attracted by the un 
 accustomed entrance of two Sisters of Char 
 ity, the first of whom, as she walked behind 
 the usher to a seat, he perceived to be 
 
78 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 Mother Eulalie; the other was Sister Ve 
 ronica. Her he had been obliged to send for 
 as a witness. But why had Mother Eulalie 
 come ? Possibly as a companion. So at 
 least Alleyn tried to persuade himself as he 
 sat down beside his counsel. The appearance 
 of the nuns was evidently matter for conject 
 ure, to judge from the wagging and craning 
 of heads. The court-room seemed to have 
 become animated. Alleyn did not choose to 
 look again, but Mr. Davenant turned his 
 head with the rest. 
 
 " Is that she ? " he said in a whisper, nudg 
 ing Alleyn. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " The handsome one ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " She s an extraordinarily beautiful woman." 
 
 The entrance of the Court, at which every 
 body rose, put an end to their dialogue. 
 
 " What is the first case on the list, Mr. 
 Clerk ? " asked the Judge. 
 
 " Henry Alleyn, Executor, v. John Eooney 
 and Ellen Eooney, appellants." 
 
 " Are both parties ready ? " 
 
 The Counsel signified that they were, and 
 after the jury had been impanelled, Mr. Dav- 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 79 
 
 enant, upon whom it was incumbent to take 
 the initiative so far as to prove the will over 
 again, called his witnesses to be sworn. They 
 were the three attesting witnesses to the will. 
 He first put Dr. Holbrook on the stand, 
 who acknowledged his own signature, de 
 clared that he had seen the testatrix sign the 
 will, and in answer to a series of carefully 
 framed questions stated that he had attended 
 Margaret Hogan from the time she entered 
 the hospital until her death, that her intelli 
 gence was unclouded during that period, and 
 that he regarded her as entirely qualified, so 
 far as her mental condition was concerned, to 
 dispose of her property. 
 
 " He is your witness," said Mr. Davenant to 
 his opponent. 
 
 "I understand you, Doctor, that you con 
 sider the testatrix to have been of thoroughly 
 sound mind at the time of the execution of this 
 instrument ? " said Roger Harper, slowly. 
 
 "I do, sir." 
 
 " I think you said, Doctor, that though her 
 bodily condition was enfeebled, her intellect 
 was to all intents and purposes unaffected 
 that, in short, she knew perfectly well what 
 she was about ? " 
 
80 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 " I did, sir," answered Dr. Holbrook in a 
 decided tone, which showed that he was little 
 in sympathy with his questioner. 
 
 "Precisely," said the lawyer. He looked 
 around the court-room with an air of triumph, 
 as though the testimony of the witness was 
 exactly to his liking. 
 
 " One more question, Doctor. "Were you 
 present while this will was being drawn ? " 
 
 " I was not." 
 
 " Am I not right in saying that you saw or 
 knew nothing of the making of this will be 
 yond the fact that the testatrix signed it in 
 your presence ? " 
 
 " That is all I know, sir." 
 
 " Precisely. That will do, Doctor." 
 
 John Larkin was the next witness. He 
 testified to having seen the testatrix sign her 
 name. Upon cross-examination Roger Har 
 per asked him but one question the same 
 which he had put to the doctor " Were 
 you present while this will was being 
 drawn ? " 
 
 " I was present after it had been drawn," 
 replied the student, sophistically. 
 
 " I did not ask you whether you were pres 
 ent after it had been drawn, Mr. Larkin. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 81 
 
 You will please answer my question. Were 
 you present while this will was 
 being drawn ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " That is all, Mr. Larkin." 
 
 "They evidently mean to base their case 
 on the charge of fraudulent alteration," 
 whispered Mr. Davenant to Alleyn, as he 
 summoned Catharine Sullivan, alias Sister 
 Veronica, to the stand. 
 
 The pleasant-featured nun seemed bewil 
 dered, and testified in an unintelligent way to 
 her own signature, and to having seen Marga 
 ret Hogan sign. 
 
 " Were you present while the will was be 
 ing drawn, Sister Veronica ? " asked Roger 
 Harper, when his turn to cross-examine 
 came. 
 
 " No, sir, I knew nothing about it what 
 ever," answered the witness with a prompti 
 tude that caused Mr. Davenant to mutter to 
 Alleyn : "They ve fixed her, that s evident." 
 
 " That s all, Sister Veronica," said Roger 
 Harper. 
 
 Mr. Davenant then claimed that his client 
 had established a prima facie case, to which 
 his Honor assented. 
 6 
 
8 2 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 "I am ready to hear your evidence, Mr. 
 Harper," said the Judge. 
 
 Roger Harper rose slowly and came for 
 ward. He was a large man, in the prime of 
 middle life, with a prominent hawk s nose, 
 deep-set, lustrous eyes, and a smooth-shaven, 
 forcible upper lip. His iron-gray hair fell 
 low on his forehead, and almost mingled with 
 his bushy brows. 
 
 " May it please the Court," he began ; "Mr. 
 Foreman and gentlemen of the jury, in the 
 course of a long professional experience and 
 mine has been an active experience of thirty 
 years I have never been called upon to pre 
 sent evidence so remarkable in its charac 
 ter as that which it has become my painful 
 duty to lay before you. Far be it from me to 
 to desire the ruin of any brother in that pro 
 fession of which I am proud to call myself a 
 member a profession whose prosperity is 
 founded upon the trust which the great pub 
 lic, to which you, gentlemen, belong, repose 
 in the integrity, uprightness, and honor of 
 those who constitute it. But, gentlemen, 
 worthy of implicit belief as I hold the word 
 of a lawyer to be, it is for you to say whether 
 it is not outweighed in the scale of verity by 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 83 
 
 the evidence of one who comes in the sacred 
 vestments of religion to confront yea with nay. 
 I shall produce in this case, gentlemen of the 
 jury, but one witness. But through the testi 
 mony of that one witness I expect to overthrow 
 this will offered for probate, by proving that 
 its contents were fraudulently altered by Hen 
 ry Alleyn, the Executor therein named and a 
 member of this Bar. It is the saddest duty 
 which I have ever had to perform. If you find 
 a verdict in my favor it will mean profes 
 sional disgrace and downfall for him whom I 
 have mentioned ; but if you find that Mar 
 garet Hogan executed her will in this man s 
 favor, meaning so to do and, gentlemen, the 
 doctor has told you she was in her right 
 mind you will have to declare that Mother 
 Eulalie, the Superior of the Sisterhood of St. 
 Vincent de Paul, has been guilty of the black 
 est perjury." 
 
 He paused, and one could have heard a pin 
 drop in the court-room. Those who knew 
 Alleyn glanced at him. He sat with folded 
 arms smiling contemptuously, but Mr. Dave- 
 nant looked rather grave. 
 
 " Mother Eulalie, you will come forward and 
 be sworn," said Roger Harper. 
 
84 AN EYE FOR AN EY& 
 
 Amid profound stillness the nun passed up 
 the aisle to where the clerk was standing 
 ready to administer the oath. Her beauty 
 was absorbing. Men were at a loss, perhaps, 
 to understand how it happened that curves so 
 full of symmetry, and eyes so lustrous, should 
 be shrouded by the apparel of the cloister. 
 Save for the pallor of her complexion there 
 was almost a suggestion of fleshliness in the 
 luscious contour of face and figure, but, after 
 the first glance, those gazing fancied that they 
 saw the devout servant of God who, branded 
 by the iron of mortal woe, has sought refuge 
 on the bosom of the Church. She might well 
 be a saint because she had been a sinner; 
 and yet no demure, bloodless embodiment of 
 sanctity, but vital still with the human forces 
 of energy and passion. Even the crucifix 
 upon her breast seemed to rise and fall with 
 the undulations of a breast through which 
 the tide of life flowed far from sluggishly. 
 She was one of whom the Church might have 
 been proud in the clays when the mandates 
 of its functionaries wrested sceptres from the 
 grasp of kings. So the spectators thought of 
 her as she stood with uplifted hand in obedi 
 ence to the bidding of the clerk. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 85 
 
 " You do solemnly swear that in the cause 
 now in hearing you will speak the truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so 
 help you God." 
 
 " I do, so help me God," she murmured, 
 and she looked, as it appeared to Alleyn, 
 straight at him. 
 
 "What is your full name?" asked Koger 
 Harper. 
 
 " Cora Lloyd Dennison." 
 
 " And your occupation ? " 
 
 " I am the Mother Superior of the Sister 
 hood of St. Vincent de Paul in this city." 
 
 " Where you are known as Mother Eulalie, 
 I believe ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " How long have you been the Mother Su 
 perior of the Sisterhood ? " 
 
 "Five years. I came there twelve years 
 ago, but was a Sister during seven years." 
 
 " Now, Mother Eulalie, I should like you 
 to tell the jury in your own words exactly 
 what you know, if you know anything, in re 
 gard to the making of the alleged will of 
 Margaret Hogan on the fifth day of November 
 last past." 
 
 " I was sitting in the sick woman s rooin 
 
86 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 about five o clock in the afternoon of that 
 day," she began slowly, " when a gentleman 
 entered a lawyer, who said that he had 
 come to make her will. She was expecting 
 him, for she had told me to send for him 
 early in the day, as she thought she was go 
 ing to die." 
 
 " Do yon remember the gentleman s name ? " 
 
 " I do. Henry Alleyn." 
 
 " Do you see him here ? " 
 
 " I do. He is sitting right in front of me." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " There was no one in the room except us 
 three. He sat down beside the bed at a 
 table. I was sitting by the window at the 
 further end of the room." 
 
 " At what distance were you from the bed ? " 
 
 " About twenty-five feet. They both spoke 
 in rather a low tone, but I could hear per 
 fectly the conversation. He said, Margaret, 
 whom do you wish to leave your money to ? 
 Master Henry, she said, * I want it to go to 
 the Church, every dollar of it. " 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Have you no relations ? " he asked. I 
 don t want it to go to my relations, Master 
 Henrv, I want the Church to have it. * Very 
 
. LV EYE FOR AN EYE 87 
 
 well ; you must tell me what churches, he 
 answered. The Church of tho Redeemer 
 and the Chapel of the Holy Virgin ; each 
 half. You ll know how to do it. I under 
 stand, Margaret. There should be an Exec 
 utor appointed, though. Couldn t you be 
 the Executor, Master Henry ? If you wish 
 me to. You fix it so, she said. After that 
 he began to write. When he had finished he 
 read it to her and the contents ran exactly as 
 the will which is offered as the true will, ex 
 cepting that all the property was left to be 
 divided between the two churches instead of 
 to Mr. Alleyn. Then the others came in and 
 she signed the will." 
 
 There was a death-like stillness in the 
 court. Again every one looked at Alleyn. 
 He had flushed violently at her convicting 
 words, and was bending forward staring at 
 her with an expression that was half terror, 
 half bewilderment. Charles Davenant, too, 
 was watching her with keen scrutiny. Her 
 marvellous story had been told simply and 
 without effort. There had been no hesita 
 tion, no embarrassment. Only the griumess 
 of it made men who knew Henry Alleyn re 
 flect that it could not be true. 
 
88 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 " You say that the conversation between 
 the testatrix and Mr. Alleyn was in rather a 
 low tone," continued Roger Harper, after 
 there had been a pause sufficient to allow the 
 evidence to impress the minds of the jury. 
 " Can you give any idea of how low ? " 
 
 "About as low as I am speaking now," she 
 said, sinking her voice a very little. " But 
 not a single word escaped me. I listened at 
 first inadvertently, then because I happened 
 to notice Mr. Alleyn glance at me once or 
 twice as though to ascertain if I were listen 
 ing. I heard everything." 
 
 "What became of the will after it was 
 signed ? " 
 
 " Mr. Alleyn took it away with him." 
 
 " Whether or not the testatrix ever took 
 the will into her own hands and read it ? " 
 
 " She never did." 
 
 " Is there any other evidence that you can 
 give which will throw light upon this matter, 
 Mother Eulalie?" 
 
 " I have these," she said, producing a num 
 ber of bank-books. " Margaret Hogan sent 
 me to her house for them the day before she 
 died. They re to go to the Church, she 
 sa " 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 89 
 
 " I object, your Honor," interrupted Mr. 
 Davenaut. 
 
 " There is a question here, your Honor," 
 replied Roger Harper, " as to whether or not 
 the testatrix wished to dispose of her prop 
 erty according to the terms of this will of 
 fered by my brother. It seems to me that 
 contemporaneous declarations of the testatrix 
 are admissible to show fraud on the part of 
 the person who drew the will." 
 
 The Judge reflected a moment. "I shall 
 admit the evidence," he said, finally. " You 
 may continue," he added, to the witness. 
 
 " They re to go to the Church, she said ; 
 I want you to take care of them. " 
 
 " What is the amount of money which 
 these books represent ? " asked Roger Har 
 per. 
 
 " Between twenty-four and twenty-five thou 
 sand dollars." 
 
 " There is only one remaining question that 
 I wish to put to you, Mother Eulalie. State 
 whether or not you had ever seen or known 
 Henry Alleyn before you saw him on the day 
 when this will was drawn? " 
 
 The nun deliberately fixed her brilliant 
 eyes on the young man, and they seemed to 
 
90 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 him to wear an expression of triumph as she 
 said, firmly, " I had never seen him or heard 
 of him in my life," 
 
 Alieyn, who was awaiting her response 
 with impatience, threw himself back in his 
 chair aghast. " Ask her " he whispered 
 feverishly, bending toward his counsel ; then 
 he stopped and fell back again. " It s a lie," 
 he muttered so that many heard him. 
 
 "She is your witness," said Roger Harper. 
 
 The cross-examination of a beautiful wom 
 an is at best no easy matter. Charles Dav- 
 enant put his questions with admirable skill, 
 but failed to catch Mother Eulalie tripping 
 in a single particular. He made her re 
 hearse in detail everything that took place 
 from the moment that Alieyn entered the 
 sick-room until he left it, but her story coin 
 cided precisely with what she had already 
 stated, and disclosed no inconsistencies. Not 
 once did she lose her head or appear flurried, 
 but that she was laboring under deep excite 
 ment was evident to those who watched the 
 pallor of her face change gradually to rose as 
 she parried thrust after thrust of the skilful 
 lawyer. But who would not betray agita 
 tion under a similar ordeal ? The fact that 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 91 
 
 she did so could not fairly be a cause for 
 suspicion ; while, on the other hand, her dis 
 tress, especially as her comeliness was en 
 hanced thereby, could not fail to work upon 
 the minds of the jury. 
 
 Mr. Davenant purposely prolonged the ex 
 amination until the noon recess so that he 
 might have an opportunity to go on with it 
 after haying had an interview with his client. 
 He hurried Alleyn to a private room in a 
 hotel, where he ordered lunch. 
 
 " There is some mystery here that you can 
 clear up, my dear fellow," he said, laying his 
 hand on Alleyn s knee. 
 
 " The woman is lying." 
 
 " Granted ; but a woman does not lie for 
 nothing." 
 
 "I know of no explanation," replied Al 
 leyn, curtly. 
 
 Mr. Davenant was puzzled. He had not 
 seriously supposed that his client would be 
 able to elucidate the case, but he had put the 
 question to him in desperation. He was 
 now forced back on a previous presumption, 
 that she was lying for the sake of the Church. 
 But the difficulty was, as he proceeded to 
 note to Alleyn, that the Church would be no 
 
92 AN EYE FOlt AN EYE 
 
 better off if the will were upset. The noxt 
 of kin would be entitled to the money, unless, 
 indeed, Roger Harper should have conceived 
 the idea of subsequently setting up the al 
 leged suppressed will from the lips of his 
 lovely witness. But such a scheme was a 
 rash hazard, to say the least, involving nice 
 legal difficulties. Altogether, it was the 
 strangest affair with which he had ever been 
 connected. 
 
 " Is there nothing you think of which I 
 can ask her that will help us ? " he inquired 
 almost imploringly. 
 
 " Nothing. It is simply my word against 
 hers. Great God! Davenant, this means 
 ruin for me ! " Alleyn rose and began to pace 
 the room feverishly. 
 
 " Not so bad as that." 
 
 " Yes, ruin ! What motive had she for 
 lying ? every one will ask. Alleyn drew the 
 will himself in his own favor and supposed 
 the nun was not listening. One more good 
 man gone wrong ; that s what the world will 
 say." 
 
 " It was a very stupid device, then. A 
 clever man like you would hardly put his 
 head into such a noose." 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 93 
 
 " The world does not make such subtile 
 distinctions. Davenant, have I deserved 
 this ? It is horrible ! horrible ! " 
 
 Alleyn fell into a chair and covered his 
 face with his hands. It occurred to his friend, 
 who was eating raw oysters with deliberation, 
 whether by any possibility there might be 
 truth in the accusation after all. The sus 
 picion was too dreadful to entertain, but it 
 haunted him. He did his best to cheer Al- 
 leyii, begging him to remember that the fight 
 was only half over and that it behooved him 
 to keep up his courage to the end ; very 
 likely the jury would disagree, and before 
 the case could be tried again a compromise 
 might be arranged, or evidence might be 
 forthcoming regarding Mother Eulalie that 
 would give it a different aspect. 
 
 As they went back, the newsboys were 
 calling out, " Two o clock edition ; startling 
 developments in the Hogan will case," and 
 Alleyn read in large letters on one of the 
 bulletin boards, "A serious charge. Testi 
 mony in the Hogan will case affecting the 
 character of lawyer Henry Alleyn of this 
 city. He is accused of fraudulently altering 
 the will of Margaret Hogan for his own bene- 
 
94 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 fit." He quivered in every vein at the sounds 
 and sight. The news had travelled fast, for 
 the court-room was crowded. There were 
 many faces he recognized. The members of 
 the Bar had been drawn thither by the un 
 usual character of the evidence, and all eyes 
 were bent on him curiously as he walked to 
 his seat, doing his best not to appear discon 
 certed. 
 
 Mr. Davenant continued his cross-exami 
 nation for another half-hour, inquiring as to 
 the witness s past life, so far as the Judge 
 would allow ; but he elicited nothing of mo 
 ment. 
 
 " That is my whole case," said his oppo 
 nent, when the nun had left the stand. 
 
 Alleyn was called in rebuttal. His direct 
 testimony took the remainder of the day. It 
 was clear and unequivocal. He repeated the 
 exact conversation that had taken place be 
 tween him and Margaret, and described every 
 circumstance of their interview with great 
 minuteness under the searching examination 
 of Mr. Davenant. His manner was spiritless, 
 however ; he seemed dejected, almost broken, 
 which was not adapted to produce a favor 
 able impression on those listening to him, 
 
AN EYE F011 AN EYE 95 
 
 On the following morning he was taken in 
 hand by Koger Harper, who badgered and 
 finally angered him by the style of his cross- 
 examination ; as, for instance, by jeering at 
 the idea that he had not been aware of the 
 amount of his old nurse s property, and by 
 insidiously referring to his approaching mar 
 riage and consequent need of money. Al- 
 leyn flushed with indignation and lost his 
 head. His answers to the questions put to 
 him became sarcastic and sophistical. 
 
 After he had been dismissed there was no 
 more evidence to offer, and Roger Harper 
 began his closing address to the jury, in the 
 presence of a densely packed court-room. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said in the course of his 
 argument, "my learned brother who is to 
 follow me in the presentation of this case will 
 undoubtedly ask you if it could be that a 
 young man of hitherto spotless reputation, 
 with a brilliant future in prospect and with 
 everything to lose in the event of his being 
 detected, would be stupid enough would be 
 wilfully blind enough, to fraudulently alter a 
 last will and testament in the manner which 
 has been described to you by my witness 
 would be blind enough, I repeat, to do this 
 
96 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 in the presence of a third person within easy 
 ear-shot of whom he was obliged to read 
 aloud the contents of an instrument different 
 from that which he now offers for probate ? 
 Why did he not send the witness out of the 
 room, my brother will ask ? "Why did he not 
 adopt one of a thousand artifices that could 
 have been thought of to screen himself from 
 exposure ? The element of extreme improb 
 ability is so prominent, that one is prompted 
 to cry out, * Such a thing would be impossi 
 ble. So it seems, certainly, when you con 
 sider the facts thus barely stated. But, 
 gentlemen of the jury, let me ask you this : 
 Which is the more improbable, that this 
 young man would have acted in the manner 
 indicated, or that a woman she whose tes 
 timony you have listened to would deliber 
 ately commit perjury to ruin forever one 
 whom she never saw or heard of? There 
 can be but one answer to my question. You 
 must decide in her favor, unless you can per 
 ceive some motive why she should offer false 
 testimony she, a priestess of God, and 
 given up to the thoughts and offices of relig 
 ion. Where is the motive ? Her statement 
 that they had never met before is not denied. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 97 
 
 How could she be benefited by swearing 
 falsely? If this will falls to the ground, the 
 next of kin and not the churches will get the 
 money. Remember that, gentlemen of the 
 jury. Remember, too, that this young man, 
 this rising young attorney, was shortly to 
 have been married ; and you can all imagine, 
 in view of so interesting a circumstance, that 
 thirty thousand dollars would have been a 
 most welcome addition to his resources. 
 Gentlemen, I repeat it, where is the mo 
 tive ? " 
 
 Roger Harper spoke but half an hour. Mr. 
 Davenant then rose. Although he had been 
 forestalled in his argument of want of proba 
 bility, he pressed it cogently, dwelling on the 
 good repute of Alleyn and the terrible conse 
 quences of an ill-considered verdict as affect 
 ing his client s future career. It was true, he 
 said, that there seemed a lack of motive on 
 the part of the Mother Superior, but even if 
 it be admitted that there could have been no 
 adequate reason why she should swear falsely, 
 was it not much more rational to suppose 
 that she had been mistaken in what she 
 heard, than that this lawyer of well-known 
 integrity had committed so heinous a fault ? 
 7 
 
98 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 Her testimony was that she had heard the 
 old woman give him certain directions which 
 were carried out in the will which he read. 
 Therefore he must have deliberately falsified 
 the instrument while drawing it. The alter 
 ation must, of course, have been made on 
 the spot, for there was not an erasure. Such 
 a cold-blooded, deliberate piece of villany 
 was out of the question. 
 
 Mr. Davenant s harangue was able and to 
 the point, but somehow it lacked fervor, as 
 though the advocate were unable to explain 
 to himself, satisfactorily, the discrepancy in 
 the evidence. Moreover, Alleyn s attitude 
 during its delivery was scarcely adapted to 
 encourage his counsel. He sat looking 
 gloomy and downcast, with the demeanor of 
 one who expects the worst. 
 
 The Judge s charge was short and impar 
 tial. He adverted to the fact that the accu 
 sation made was of a most serious character, 
 involving the good repute of the plaintiff, and 
 that the jury ought to weigh the evidence of 
 fered on both sides with the greatest deliber 
 ation ; but that while so doing they must not 
 allow themselves to be influenced by emo 
 tional considerations of any kind. The opes- 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 99 
 
 tions for them to decide were simply these, 
 he said : 
 
 1. Was the testatrix of sound mind when 
 she executed the will ? 
 
 2. Was the testatrix acting under the un 
 due influence of Henry Alleyn at the time of 
 executing said will ? 
 
 3. Was the instrument offered for probate 
 executed as the last will and testament of 
 Margaret Hogan ? 
 
 As regards the first two, there could be no 
 doubt as to what their verdict must be, for 
 no evidence had been offered by the appel 
 lants either of lack of mental capacity or of 
 undue influence. The whole contest was re 
 garding the third reason, and as to this there 
 was nothing he could say that would help 
 them. The burden of proof was on those 
 offering the will for probate, to show by a 
 preponderance of the evidence that it had 
 been duly executed ; but the term preponder 
 ance of evidence did not necessarily mean 
 numerical preponderance ; the quality rather 
 than the quantity should be taken into con 
 sideration. They had listened to the testi 
 mony and must make up their minds as to 
 whom to believe, taking into due account the 
 
100 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 liability of human beings to error as to what 
 is seen and heard. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when the jury 
 retired, so that no verdict could be rendered 
 until the next day. Alleyn thanked Mr. 
 Davenant in a perfunctory, dazed sort of 
 manner for his services and left the court. 
 
 "What do you make of the case. Dave 
 nant?" asked a white-haired member of the 
 Bar, drawing him aside. "It seems to me 
 very extraordinary." 
 
 "Frankly, sir, I don t know what to make 
 of it. It is the most inexplicable affair 
 which I have ever had to deal with. I m all 
 at sea." 
 
 The intervening hours were terrible for 
 Alleyn. He could not sleep. The newspa 
 pers had enormous head-lines and full de 
 tails relating to the trial, set off by pen por 
 traits of the principal personages implicated. 
 The city was all agog with the excruciating 
 scandal, and the court-room on the following 
 morning was packed to overflowing. It had 
 been whispered abroad that the jury had 
 agreed and would be in their places. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," said the Clerk, 
 "do you find that Margaret Hogan at the 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 101 
 
 time she executed the instrument alleged to 
 be her last will and testament was of sound 
 mind ? " 
 
 " To that interrogatory, the jury s answer 
 is Yes, " said the foreman. 
 
 " Do you find that Margaret Hogan at the 
 time she executed said instrument was acting 
 under undue influence ? " 
 
 "To that interrogatory the jury s answer 
 is 4 No. " 
 
 "Do you find that said instrument was 
 duly executed by said Margaret Hogan as 
 her last will and testament ? " 
 
 " To that interrogatory the jury s answer 
 is No, for the reason that said instrument 
 was fraudulently altered by Henry Alleyn, 
 the Executor named therein." 
 
 From that verdict there was no appeal. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ONE evening about five years later, Charles 
 Davenant was standing in his drawing-room 
 with his back to the fire, awaiting the arrival 
 of some friends whom he had asked to din 
 ner. Time had given him the portly appear- 
 
102 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 ance which befits the successful, well-to-do 
 lawyer. He was to-day one of the recog 
 nized leaders of the Bar, the counsel for rich 
 corporations and trustee of large estates. 
 The guests expected by him were the mem 
 bers of a locally celebrated law club to which 
 he belonged. 
 
 The first to appear was the white-haired 
 Nestor who had questioned him at the con 
 clusion of the Hogan will case. He was still 
 hale, but betrayed by a hesitating gait, as he 
 came into the room, the limitations of four 
 score. 
 
 "Good-evening, Mr. Perkins, you as ever 
 lead all, I see," said his host advancing to 
 greet the veteran. " I am very glad to see 
 you, Harper," Mr. Davenant added to another 
 guest who followed close behind. " I do 
 not need to introduce you two, gentlemen." 
 
 " He must have a long spoon who would 
 eat with the devil," observed John Larkin to 
 an associate with whom he had just reached 
 the landing as they caught sight of the 
 somewhat anomalous tableau presented by 
 the conversative Mr. Perkins and Roger K. 
 Harper cordially shaking hands. 
 
 " Nothing succeeds like success," was the 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 103 
 
 answer, and a moment later both the speaker 
 and his sardonically inclined companion 
 were imitating the example set them by their 
 distinguished senior. 
 
 Roger K. Harper was the only one of the 
 fifteen lawyers composing Mr. Davenant s 
 dinner company who was not a member of 
 the club, and, as the guests arrived, others, 
 doubtless, wondered a little why it had oc 
 curred to their host to invite him. But 
 however fastidious they could afford to be at 
 heart, no one saw fit to be otherwise than 
 cordial to the formidable advocate whose 
 long list of victories before a jury had Avon 
 for him a vast clientage. His contempora 
 ries dated the real founding of his fortunes 
 from the now famous probate appeal which 
 had wrought the ruin of Henry Alleyn. He 
 had been successful before, but the verdict 
 in that cause had placed him upon a pin 
 nacle from which neither justice nor envy 
 could dislodge him. 
 
 After the party was seated at table the 
 conversation became almost immediately ani 
 mated and brilliant. There was everything 
 to inspire wit and anecdote ; the surround 
 ings were artistic yet cosey, the service ex- 
 
104 AN ETE FOR AN EYE 
 
 emplary, the viands delicious. The first 
 glass of wine was an assurance that their 
 host had not spared his cellar. Each bit of 
 humor, each graphic experience reminded 
 some one of another, and so the ball was 
 kept rolling. Mr. Davenant himself seemed 
 in the best of spirits. On his right sat 
 Roger Harper, and on his left, as it hap 
 pened, the Justice who had presided at the 
 well-known trial. At the opposite end of 
 the table John Larkin officiated. He was in 
 active practice now, and doing extremely 
 well. To him had fallen the task of winding 
 up his former patron s affairs, and he had 
 managed to retain as clients a majority of 
 those accustomed to do business with Alleyn. 
 Although the proximity at table of three 
 of the chief actors in the still remembered 
 drama must have struck as an odd coinci 
 dence most of those present, every one to 
 whom the idea of calling attention to it oc 
 curred was restrained by the peculiar nature 
 of the case, the mystery surrounding which 
 had never been cleared away. Within a fort 
 night after the verdict Henry Alleyn had left 
 town, without, so far as was known, making 
 any effort to re-establish his damaged reputa- 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 105 
 
 tion, and since then nothing had been heard 
 of him beyond the vague report that he was 
 living in Europe. There had been at the time 
 some talk of having him disbarred, but the 
 fact that this suggestion had never taken the 
 form of a petition for the purpose to the 
 Court was evidence that the lawyers in the 
 community were not fully satisfied that 
 Mother Eulalie s testimony was unimpeach 
 able. What had added to their reluctance to 
 take final action was, doubtless, an item 
 which had appeared in the newspapers not 
 more than a month after the trial, to the 
 effect that the Mother Superior had resigned 
 her position at the Sisterhood of St. Vincent 
 de Paul and had also left the city. Nervous 
 exhaustion resulting from the painful ordeal 
 which she had undergone was popularly 
 ascribed as the cause, but all the same there 
 were those among the members of the Bar 
 who shrugged their shoulders as they read 
 the paragraph. 
 
 After some remarkably fine Burgundy had 
 been served and the cigars were lighted a 
 hush fell upon the company as each one 
 settled himself luxuriously in his chair, 
 rather disposed in the fulness of his content 
 
106 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 to listen to the wit of others, than to make 
 fresh sallies of his own. The pause thus 
 afforded was broken by the Judge, who ob 
 served, in somewhat a judicial tone, "A won 
 derful glass of wine." 
 
 "Wonderful," some one repeated in echo 
 of this voice of authority. 
 
 " It is some which poor Henry Alleyn sent 
 me only a few weeks before his misfortune," 
 said Mr. Davenant. 
 
 "Indeed," said his Honor, "indeed; I 
 applaud his taste. A very remarkable case, 
 that," he added, reflectively. " I haven t to 
 this day been satisfied in my own mind as to 
 which of them spoke the truth. Eh, brother 
 Harper?" 
 
 Deep silence followed this appeal and all 
 eyes were bent eagerly on the eloquent advo 
 cate, who pursed his lips and puffed at his 
 cigar a moment before replying a manner 
 ism, and one apt to be imitated by those who 
 reasonably expect their words to be counted 
 on to be weighty, but in this particular in 
 stance effective. 
 
 4 Your Honor, it is my belief that the 
 woman was lying," he said, laconically. 
 
 Every one waited for him to go on. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 107 
 
 "But, on the other hand," he continued 
 slowly, " I have no more real knowledge on 
 the subject than any one of you. She caine 
 to me with the story exactly as you heard it 
 at the trial. She was already aware that the 
 Church could not take the money, and when 
 I asked her if she had any acquaintance with 
 Alleyn, her answer was, as subsequently, I 
 have never seen or heard of him in my life.* 
 It is my private belief that this last state 
 ment was false. If so, the whole was false. 
 But I have not a shred of evidence to offer 
 in support of my assertion. It is mere con* 
 jecture." 
 
 "What has become of Alleyn? " asked one 
 of the company presently. 
 
 " At last accounts he was in Paris a wan 
 derer upon the face of the earth," responded 
 John Larkin. 
 
 "He is dead," quietly interjected Mr. 
 Davenant. 
 
 "Dead? You don t say so!" exclaimed 
 several. 
 
 "Yes, he was mortally wounded in August 
 last, fighting on the Prussian side against 
 the French. I have here a communication 
 received ten days ago from the German in 
 
108 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 command of his regiment, which I will read 
 you presently. But first let me throw some 
 light on the matter of which you were just 
 speaking. On the day before Alleyn went 
 away," continued Mr. Davenant, producing a 
 packet which he laid upon the table, "he 
 came to see me. I had tried in vain num 
 berless times already to induce him to admit 
 that there was a mystery, but he had always 
 shaken his head and declared that he had 
 nothing to say. I saw from his face that it 
 would be useless to ask questions, but I 
 could not help exclaiming : Alleyn, you are 
 going abroad forever, you say; do not, for 
 God s sake, let this horrible accusation stain 
 men s memory of you if it is possible for you 
 to clear it away. He looked me in the eyes 
 I shall remember the sadness of his ex 
 pression so long as I live and shook his 
 head. Davenant, he said, whatever it is 
 desirable to have explained will be explained 
 some day. Good-by. He kept his word. 
 The Prussian officer s letter contained an 
 other, sealed and addressed to me and super 
 scribed, * To be delivered only in case of my 
 death. It contains the clew to the mystery, 
 at least the only clew I have," he added, 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 109 
 
 opening the packet. " Listen. This is dated 
 a week after the trial. * Henry, your life is 
 mined forever, and I have done it. Do you 
 know why? Do you remember what you 
 wrote me thirteen years ago? "God knows 
 I love you, darling, but what is this all to 
 lead to? You must realize that I cannot 
 marry you. I have my way to make in the 
 world." That was all, and you were free 
 free to hold your head erect and live re 
 spected and happy. How did it fare with 
 me? Has it ever occurred to you, Henry? 
 As with so many others, the world spat upon 
 me. I became a vile, shameless thing such 
 as you are now. I could not hold up my 
 head. What had I done more than you? 
 Why should I be the only one to suffer? 
 They called me a dishonest woman. I be 
 gan to ask myself what is a dishonest man ? 
 You know the feelings of one now, and you 
 know how I felt. You are suffering as I was 
 made to suffer. You need not blame me, 
 Henry. Blame the world. 
 
 " COKA. " 
 
 " Mother Eulalie ! " 
 "Is it possible?" 
 "Horrible!" 
 
110 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 Such was the variety of ejaculations uttered 
 around the table when Mr. Davenant finished. 
 
 " I see I see," murmured Koger Harper 
 in a hoarse whisper at their close. " Mar 
 vellous marvellous." 
 
 The jury advocate s face was luminous. 
 The cobwebs of mystification had been swept 
 away in an instant and the truth lay bare be 
 fore him. But used as he was to astounding 
 revelations, and freely as he had predicated 
 that there was falsehood here, it was evident 
 from his expression that he was moved to 
 wonder. " Allow me, Mr. Davenant," he said, 
 "to look at that letter." 
 
 He scanned it admiringly, while the com 
 pany eyed him in silence. " I can see it all 
 now. Marvellous marvellous ! " he reiter 
 ated. " They called me a dishonest woman. 
 I began to ask myself what is a dishonest 
 man? You know the feelings of one now, 
 and you know how I felt. There is real 
 tragedy for you, gentlemen. No make-believe 
 stage business." 
 
 " It was revenge, cruel, relentless re 
 venge," said Mr. Perkins. 
 
 " Yes, it was revenge," retorted Roger 
 Harper slowly, compressing the bowl of his 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 111 
 
 Burgundy glass with so strenuous a grip that 
 it might well have been crushed to fragments. 
 " Cruel, relentless revenge, if you will. But 
 was it not justice, too? Think a moment, 
 gentlemen. She loved him and he left her. 
 "What ways does the world provide for mak 
 ing man share in for making man even un 
 derstand the misery which an erring woman 
 undergoes? Why should she be the only 
 one to suffer ? She asks the question. Can 
 you answer it? " 
 
 His penetrating gaze swept round the cir 
 cle, but not a voice replied to his inquiry. 
 The lawyers seemed to be musing. 
 
 " An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a 
 life for a life," said John Larkin, with sen 
 tentious emphasis. 
 
 " Why did not Alleyn publish that letter 
 to the world? " asked some one. 
 
 " For the same reason that he did not con 
 tradict Mother Eulalie s testimony at the trial 
 that she had never seen or heard of him 
 before a guilty conscience," responded Rog 
 er Harper, keenly. " She knew that he would 
 not contradict her, and she knew that he 
 would not disclose the contents of that letter 
 so long as he lived. There was woman s 
 
112 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 genius ! They were master-strokes," lie add 
 ed with professional enthusiasm. 
 
 " It is a strange, sad story," said the Judge, 
 breaking in upon another silence. " Heinous 
 as was the woman s crime, I cannot help 
 agreeing with my brother opposite that there 
 was a certain poetic justice in the conse 
 quences. While the code of society contin 
 ues to make subtile distinctions between al 
 most equally guilty parties, one can scarcely 
 be surprised that those who suffer under its 
 operation should sometimes disregard all law 
 in their efforts to obtain justice. As one 
 having authority I am shocked, but as a hu 
 man being I feel reflective." 
 
 " There is force undoubtedly in your Hon 
 or s suggestion," said Mr. Perkins ; " but ad 
 mitting the justice of the consequences here, 
 I find it difficult to forget that if humanity is 
 to look for mercy and forgiveness anywhere 
 it must be to woman. Could this Mother 
 Eulalie really have loved Alleyn and have 
 acted as she did ? " 
 
 " One moment, Mr. Perkins, if you please," 
 exclaimed Davenant. "I should have read 
 you the Prussian commander s letter. This 
 is a translated copy. 
 
AN EYE FOR AN EYE 113 
 
 " MB. CHARLES DAVENANT 
 
 " SIB : It has become my melancholy duty 
 to inform you that Henry Alleyn, an Ameri 
 can, serving as a private soldier under my 
 command, was shot through the lungs at the 
 battle of Gravelotte, and died from the effects 
 of his wound four days later. He had on 
 several occasions attracted attention by his 
 conspicuous gallantry, and would, but for his 
 untimely death, have received the promotion 
 he deserved. At his own request his body 
 has been buried in German soil. He desired 
 that I should inform you of his decease, and 
 forward you the enclosed packet. He was 
 conscious to the last, and was tenderly nursed 
 by a very handsome lady, also an American, 
 in the garb of a Sister of Charity, whose 
 name I have been unable to obtain, and 
 who disappeared on the day after he was 
 laid to rest. Condoling with you in your 
 bereavement, I remain, with high respect and 
 esteem, 
 
 " Your very obedient servant, 
 
 " KLEINMANN, Colonel. " 
 
 "Your doubt is answered," said Roger 
 Harper, impressively, to Mr. Perkins. 
 8 
 
114 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 
 
 The old man bowed. " So she was with 
 him at the last. Poor devil," he said. 
 
 " To which of them do you refer, sir ? " in 
 quired John Larkin. 
 
 " You are right, young man. Poor devils, 
 then." 
 
 "With all my heart." 
 
 There was another hush. The lawyers 
 were musing again. 
 
 " This is extraordinarily fine wine, upon 
 my soul, Davenant," said his Honor at length, 
 as the outcome of his cogitations. 
 
IN FLY-TIME 
 
IN FLY-TIME 
 
 TOM NICHOLS, the architect, lay back 
 in his hammock with a contented air. 
 He was comfortable, and an opportunity to 
 vegetate and to rest his weary mind and body 
 was his at last. On the 1st of June he had 
 informed his wife that unless he had time to 
 think he could not possibly hope to win the 
 award in the coming competition for the Pub 
 lic Library building at Foxburgh. On this 
 Mrs. Nichols had set her heart. To tell the 
 truth, they were both tired tired of the bus 
 tle and rush of city life, from the rumble of 
 the milkman s cart over the pavement in the 
 early morning to the clang of the fire-engine 
 as it jangled round the corner at dead of 
 night. They needed rest rest from calls 
 and newspapers and five-o clock teas and 
 telephones and stock quotations and servants 
 and marriages and deaths and late suppers 
 and small- talk. And they had found it at 
 
118 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 last, here on this abandoned farm, a good 
 twenty miles from the meretricious excite 
 ment and vitiated atmosphere of town. 
 
 It was the Fourth of July, and yet there 
 was scarcely a sound to be heard. The very 
 bees neglected to hum. The children were 
 in the barn, scraping acquaintance with the 
 live-stock and. tumbling in the hay. Their 
 voices sounded pleasantly remote. Before 
 leaving town Tom had made a bargain with 
 them. On the understanding that they would 
 forego fire-crackers and other noisy accom 
 paniments of the national holiday, he had 
 presented them with four rabbits. Mrs. 
 Nichols was upstairs tending the new baby, 
 for a baby has to be looked after on a quiet 
 abandoned farm as carefully as elsewhere. 
 But Tom himself was supremely comfortable. 
 
 He had swung his hammock between two 
 apple-trees, the boughs of one of which 
 shaded his head from the sun. He could 
 see everything which went on about the house 
 without even turning his head. There was 
 absolutely nothing on his mind, and he was 
 free to let that important mechanism lie fal 
 low. From time to time he opened his eyes 
 to enjoy the charming outlook. The old 
 
IN FLY-TIME 119 
 
 homestead, the main portion of which had 
 been built prior to the Eevolution, stood 
 picturesquely dilapidated and awry on ground 
 a little higher than the rest of the farm. The 
 rose, honeysuckle, and other vines which 
 blithely ran riot over the front seemed all 
 that saved it from collapse. Yet it was com 
 fortable enough inside. Tom was not alto 
 gether sure that he would not find the double 
 bed atrociously hard as soon as the glamour 
 of the situation had faded into every-day 
 reality, but there was no denying that tho 
 cream was so thick that it required joggling 
 before it would pour, and that the hearth pos 
 sessed all the capacity for blazing logs which 
 a hungry city imagination associates with the 
 rustic fireside. To be sure it was now the 
 Fourth of July, when wood fires are apt to 
 be superfluous; but it was pleasant to feel 
 that there was one to light if you wished ; 
 and there were the big brass andirons and the 
 curious old bellows, at any rate. On one 
 side of the house stood the barn and the out 
 buildings, tenanted still by a sow with young 
 ones, some clucking poultry, and a solitary 
 twenty-year-old farm horse, which, under the 
 guidance of Uncle Reuben CoiHn, had fetched 
 
120 IN FLY -TIME 
 
 Torn and his family from the station the clay 
 before. On the other side was a small flower 
 bed, where peonies and dahlias and mignonette 
 and scarlet-runners and other country flowers 
 bloomed in sweet profusion. It had once 
 been a large garden, but since the death of 
 Farmer Joseph Coffin ten years before it had 
 gradually dwindled away, and in the field be 
 yond, where oats and barley and cauliflowers 
 and spinach and squashes and strawberries 
 had formerly grown to proud maturity, there 
 were only a patch of corn and a few potato- 
 plants for the immediate needs of the widow 
 Coffin and her daughter and limping Uncle 
 Eeub. 
 
 But only a countryman s eye would have 
 noted that the farm was out at elbows. To 
 Tom, as he lay in his hammock, the landscape 
 seemed a paradise. The fields rolled away 
 in green freshness, with here and there a 
 stretch of woodland, to a horizon of stately 
 hills, and on every side were peace and still 
 ness. He could just discern the silver line of a 
 stream threading its way through the distance. 
 In front of the house stood a genuine moss- 
 bound, old-fashioned well with buckets, and 
 by the barn was a kennel, in front of which 
 
/JV FLY-TIME 121 
 
 Pop, the huge mastiff, stiff with age and 
 rheumatism, lay basking, with his head upon 
 his paws. Tom said to himself that he had 
 been longing in his inner consciousness for 
 years for some such refuge as this, and ho 
 had now merely to close his eyes and enjoy 
 the situation to his heart s content. A book 
 a volume of poems lay on his lap, but 
 Tom had no inclination to read. He would 
 fain bask like Pop, and think in a lazy, list 
 less fashion. 
 
 What a blessing it was to be in the coun 
 try on this day of all others ! No fire-crack 
 ers, no fish-horns, no torpedoes, no crowd ! 
 The pensive lowing of the kine and the cluck 
 ing of an agitated hen were the sole, infre 
 quent invasions of the summer stillness. It 
 had rained on July 1st, arid again on July 
 2d, and the aspect of the skies had caused 
 his brow to pucker on the morning of the 
 third day ; but the sun had asserted his maj 
 esty at last simultaneously with the arrival 
 of the express-cart at the door. And here 
 they were. 
 
 A sound of a closing door caused Tom to 
 open his eyes again. The disturber was 
 Uncle Reuben Coffin, or Uncle Reub, as 
 
122 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 everyone called him, who was standing on 
 the door-sill in his Sunday go-to-meeting 
 trousers, shirt, necktie, and suspenders, but 
 without a coat. The old man was lame. 
 One of his legs was shorter than the other. 
 He walked by the aid of a stick, and his gait 
 was a jerky hobble. He cast a furtive glance 
 in Tom s direction, and began to work toward 
 him. Uncle Eeub was the man of the house. 
 He was a half-brother of Joseph Coffin, and 
 had lived with the widow and her daughter 
 Maretta ever since his brother s death. Both 
 Reuben and Joseph were veterans of the civil 
 war, and both had come out of it without a 
 scratch. Joseph had succumbed to liver- 
 complaint ten years ago, but Reuben s in 
 jury dated back to the year immediately fol 
 lowing that in which he had left the service. 
 He had fallen from the hay-loft in the barn 
 and fractured his leg. Last evening he had 
 more than satisfied Tom s curiosity regard 
 ing him by a detailed account of the accident, 
 which in Uncle Reuben s estimation fur 
 nished ample grounds for a government pen 
 sion. As he explained to Tom, it grew out 
 of the war. If he had not enlisted he would 
 never have remained on the farm, for his 
 
72V FLY-TIME 123 
 
 tastes as a lad had been roving, and his eyes 
 had been fixed on the far West when Fort 
 Sumter fell. Oh yes, it grew straight out of 
 the war, and if ever a man was entitled to a 
 pension it was he. He had petitioned Con 
 gress in vain until now, but this new bill 
 would settle matters, and he hoped to have 
 his papers signed before the maple-leaves 
 turned. 
 
 Although Uncle Eeub had satisfied Tom s 
 curiosity, Tom still remained a mystery to 
 him. The old man s furtive glance seemed 
 to express wonder why a young man who 
 had the chance to hear fire-crackers, and see 
 the balloon and the military, should prefer to 
 lie in a hammock with his eyes shut on the 
 Fourth of July. Shyness had restrained his 
 tongue last evening from asking questions of 
 the new boarders, but here was an opportu 
 nity not to be neglected. First he hobbled 
 over to the open barn, in order to avoid 
 the appearance of premeditation, and busied 
 himself for a few moments in examining once 
 more the two bicycles belonging to Tom aud 
 his wife which stood just inside. Then he 
 made for Tom. 
 
 Tom, who was fully aware of his presence, 
 
124 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 was tempted to simulate slumber. He Lad 
 no wish for conversation ; indeed, he yearned 
 for solitude. But city people have the habit 
 of politeness even toward those whom they 
 wish to avoid, and custom was too much for 
 him. He sat up and nodded at Uncle Beub, 
 who stood leaning against the apple-tree 
 toward which Tom was stretched. 
 
 " Suffering from lung trouble, ain t yer ? " 
 said the old man, tentatively. 
 
 " Not to my knowledge." 
 
 " Sweat much nights ? " 
 
 " I haven t begun to yet." 
 
 Uncle Reuben felt of his chin, and pon 
 dered. " I had a cousin jus your build who 
 died o consumption two years back come 
 the fifteenth day of next month. He sweat 
 nights dreadful. The doctors said it warn t 
 no use trying to do for him. Yer cough 
 some, don t yer ? " 
 
 " Not at all. I never had a cough in my 
 life, Mr. CofSn, and my lungs were examined 
 for life-insurance six months ago, and pro 
 nounced perfectly sound." 
 
 " I want to know ! " said the old man, who 
 felt in no wise rebuffed by this downright 
 refutation of his theory. He was merely do- 
 
IN FLY- TIME 125 
 
 ing his best to express friendly interest, and 
 to become better acquainted. " Old Billy 
 has gone dead laine this morning," he con 
 tinued, by way of a second attempt. Old 
 Billy was the aged farm horse of the family 
 already referred to. 
 
 " I m afraid that bringing us from the sta 
 tion was too much for him," said Tom. " I m 
 sorry to hear it." 
 
 " I expect it s rheumatism. He s liable to 
 spells of it. But it s kind of provoking for 
 me and Maretta. We d fixed to drive over Fox- 
 burgh way to see the celebration. I reckon 
 now a bi-cy-cle don t go lame ? " he added, 
 with a facetious glance at the two machines. 
 
 If there was a theme capable of arousing 
 Tom from his present delicious torpor, Uncle 
 Reuben had hit upon it. Tom was just be 
 ginning to ride a bicycle. Not only Torn, 
 but Mrs. Nichols. They were in the throes 
 of acquiring facility, and delighted with their 
 budding talent. A strong argument in favor 
 of retiring to the country had been the ex 
 pectation of being able to practise in obscur 
 ity, and witch the world with this substitute 
 for noble horsemanship on their return to 
 town. Tom had waked up one morning and 
 
12G IN FLY- TIME 
 
 announced that he was going to buy a bicy 
 cle, and a fortnight later Mrs. Nichols had 
 taken the bit between her teeth and declared 
 that she would ride too. It had been a little 
 difficult for Tom to get rid of the conviction 
 which he had acquired by personal observa 
 tion that pretty women do not ride wheels, 
 but his better half s reply that he would soon 
 behold one was extremely pertinent. " It is 
 all a matter of clothes, dear," she had ex 
 plained to Tom. " Wait until you see me, 
 and I m sure you ll be satisfied. Besides, 
 only think how delightful it will be to have 
 me with you on your rides, instead of poking 
 off all by yourself." The event had justified 
 her statement. They both were still at the 
 wobbly stage ; but there was no doubt in 
 Tom s mind that Mrs. Nichols on a bicycle 
 was fully as charming as Mrs. Nichols on 
 foot. And when a husband is satisfied, can 
 not a woman afford to smile in the face of a 
 critically conservative world ? 
 
 Consequently Tom raised himself a little 
 in the hammock in order to obtain a more 
 complete proud glimpse at the precious ma 
 chines, and his expression brightened as he 
 answered : 
 
IN FLY- TIME 127 
 
 " A bic} T cle is the poor man s friend, Mr. 
 Coffin. It isn t afraid of railroad trains or 
 electric cars ; and if it goes lame it doesn t 
 eat its head off while recovering." 
 
 Mr. Coffin sighed. It might be that he 
 was deploring his game-leg, which stood in 
 the way of his ever mounting a wheel, or it 
 might be that he was reflecting on the wide 
 difference just pointed out by Tom between 
 a lame horse and a lame bicycle in the mat 
 ter of feeding. He again felt of his chin 
 meditatively. 
 
 " How much might one of them machines 
 cost, if it ain t asking too much ? " he in 
 quired. 
 
 " One hundred and twenty-five dollars for 
 the best. But you can get a good second 
 hand one for sixty or seventy-five." 
 
 " Most as much as for a fair to middhV 
 horse." 
 
 " But there s no expense for oats, or dis 
 temper, or breakage, no veterinary bills, and 
 no cost for shoeing and sharpening. Be 
 sides, bicycles must come down in price, Mr. 
 Coffin. It s merely a question of time. The 
 American people intend to ride." 
 
 Tom s enthusiasm so far got the better of 
 
12S IN FLY-TIME 
 
 him that he grasped the sides of the ham 
 mock and sat up and looked at his tormentor ; 
 then suddenly remembering why he was there, 
 he sank back emphatically, and closed his 
 eyes again. 
 
 A countryman is slow to take a hint. Be 
 sides, Tom s momentary flow of words had 
 been reassuring. Uncle Keuben waited a 
 moment, then he said : 
 
 " They re cute things, sure. Speakin now 
 of inventions, what might be yer opinion 
 about these ere rain-makers ? " 
 
 Not a sound came from the hammock. 
 Uncle Keuben waited for a reasonable time, 
 but he did not seem to be disturbed by his 
 failure to obtain an answer. He varied his 
 posture a little and glanced up at the sky, 
 shielding his eyes with his hand. 
 
 " It s great weather for the Fourth of July," 
 he remarked. 
 
 This was the sort of observation which did 
 not strictly require an answer. It might pass 
 for a soliloquy. A man might make it and 
 not get a response without loss of self-re 
 spect. Not even a murmur came from the 
 hammock. Uncle Reuben cocked an eye 
 again skyward, hitched his suspenders into 
 
/2V FLY-TIME 
 
 place, and saying, by way of explanation, " I 
 guess I ll go and fix up the scarecrow," halted 
 off in the direction of the corn-patch. 
 
 As may have been manifested by his burst 
 of declaration regarding the American peo 
 ple, Torn was at heart a patriot and a believer 
 in the institutions of his native country. Or 
 dinarily the conventional celebration of the 
 Fourth of July had no more terrors for him 
 than for the average adult of forty in his 
 walk of life. He would not have deemed it 
 proper to debar his children from fire-crack 
 ers, even by a bribe, if he had not felt that 
 rest was imperative for him in order to win 
 the Foxburgh award. Consequently, although 
 Uncle Reuben was gone, his consciousness, 
 or rather half-consciousness, remained under 
 the spell of their conversation. The weather 
 for the national holiday was indeed glorious, 
 and though he had reason to rejoice that he 
 was removed from the blaze and noise, was 
 it not an inspiring thought that in every city 
 and town of the national domain from the 
 Atlantic to the Pacific an orator was rehears 
 ing in fervid speech the national glories and 
 the national hopes, bands of music were play 
 ing, balloons were ascending, and the great 
 9 
 
130 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 American people was letting itself go ? And 
 only think how many bicycles were being 
 ridden within the same ocean-bounded terri 
 tory ! Surely the price of bicycles must 
 come down. Under the influence of these 
 appropriate sentiments Tom fell asleep, and 
 the farm was stiller than ever. Pop slum 
 bered in his kennel, and Uncle Reuben down 
 in the corn-patch sat rigging the scarecrow, 
 keeping his back to the new boarder by way, 
 perhaps, of mild resentment. 
 
 The next thing Tom was conscious of was 
 a sound as of cows cropping grass very 
 close to his ear. He struggled against the 
 impression until it changed to a ripping 
 sound, and at the same moment his nose was 
 violently tickled by something hard, a pack 
 age smote him rudely on the chest, and a 
 voice above him called, " Why in thunder 
 don t you catch hold, you infernal idiot ? " 
 
 To be called an idiot, especially on the 
 Fourth of July, is galling to a free-born 
 American citizen. Tom s eyes opened simul 
 taneously with the upward spring he made. 
 But he was fairly electrified by what he saw. 
 In front of his face dangled a long rope, and 
 overhead, in close proximity to the apple- 
 
IN FLY-TIME 131 
 
 tree, was a huge oscillating mass. What could 
 it be ? What did it mean ? Merciful heav 
 ens, it was a balloon a real, active balloon ! 
 Even a patriot can be rendered incapable 
 of action by astonishment and the complex 
 ity of his emotions. Where had it come 
 from ? Was it coming down on him ? What 
 had the bale of cannon crackers, which had 
 nearly broken his breast-bone, to do with it ? 
 What did the two men in the swaying car, 
 ten feet above the apple-tree, wish him to do ? 
 There was quite a breeze now, . and they 
 were bellowing like mad. 
 
 " Catch hold of the rope, can t you ? " 
 Tom glared at the speaker, nevertheless he 
 grabbed at the rope. He was out of the 
 hammock now. He missed it, for it was 
 bobbing just above his head, and the air 
 around him seemed to be raining packages of 
 cannon crackers, rockets, and other missiles 
 of the fireworks order. Apparently the two 
 occupants of the balloon were acting at 
 counter purpose, for one was throwing out 
 everything he could lay his hands on to make 
 the monster rise, whereas the other, who was 
 peering over the edge of the car, was anxious 
 that Tom should grasp the rope so as to 
 
132 /^ FLY-TIME 
 
 make her fast to the tree. Tom said to him 
 self that it must be the balloon from Foxburgh 
 which had been sent up that morning, and in 
 obedience to orders he made another lunge 
 at the rope. This time he caught it, and he 
 felt as if he had seized a comet by the tail, 
 for just at that moment a puff of wind struck 
 the "George Washington " he could see 
 the large letters of her name and she rolled 
 and swayed like a ship in a heavy sea, then 
 swooping away from dangerous proximity to 
 the apple-tree, began to career in a level line 
 across the farm. Both the occupants now 
 were yelling like crazy creatures, but their 
 words were inaudible to Tom. For an instant 
 he ran like a deer-hound, holding fiercely to 
 the rope ; the next he was lifted from his 
 feet, and hung dangling, with his toes a few 
 inches from the ground. A huge portman 
 teau just missed him and burst open at his 
 feet, and two bags of sand fell with dull thuds 
 on either side. 
 
 In an instant the abandoned farm awoke 
 to action. The mastiff Pop bounded along at 
 Tom s heels, barking wildly. Tom s four 
 children, lured from the hay by the hubbub, 
 stood open-mouthed, paralyzed at the sight 
 
IN FLY-TIME 133 
 
 of their father being dragged along by this 
 monster of the air. It was not until Mrs. 
 Nichols, with the baby in her arms, flew from 
 the house, crying " Tom ! Tom ! Tom ! " that 
 they added their shrill voices to the tumult, 
 and scurried over the pasture in pursuit. In 
 their wake hobbled, as fast as he was able, 
 Uncle Reuben, giving vent to his emotion in 
 a frantic " Whoa, there ! whoa, there ! 
 whoa, there ! " And last, but not least, the 
 widow Coffin and Maretta flitted along behind, 
 screaming like two agitated geese, their necks 
 extended, and their white aprons fluttering 
 in the breeze. 
 
 Tom does not know to the present day ex 
 actly why he held on like grim death ; but he 
 did, though the huge balloon rolled and 
 pitched and surged, so that occasionally he 
 was lifted three feet from the ground, and it 
 looked as if he would be carried up a mile or 
 two with even greater promptitude than 
 Sindbad the Sailor was borne away by the 
 predatory roc in the " Arabian Nights " tale. 
 And all the time it was raining, not cats and 
 dogs, but what were much more unwelcome 
 to Tom bunches of fire-crackers in mad 
 profusion, as though fate was determined to 
 
134: IN" FLY-TIME 
 
 foist the Fourth of July upon him in spite of 
 everything. He could not see very distinctly, 
 for he was spinning round like a teetotum, 
 so that he got only what might be called 
 bird s-eye glimpses. He did discern quite 
 clearly for an instant his better half in the 
 van of his pursuers, waving the baby in her 
 arms in wild dismay, and he made one last 
 frantic effort to pull down the balloon before 
 letting go. Just then there was another rip 
 ping sound, which resembled the bursting of 
 an enormous torpedo, and Tom felt his feet 
 touch earth again. In the next instant he 
 narrowly dodged a collision with an elm-tree, 
 and immediately after his course was rudely 
 stayed, and he found himself being wound 
 round and round the venerable trunk. When 
 he came to a halt the balloon and the top of 
 the elm-tree seemed to have amalgamated, 
 and the voice which had but lately dubbed 
 him an infernal idiot now shouted from a stal 
 wart bough, "You re a noble fellow, sir a 
 genuine hero, worthy of the day we celebrate." 
 Thereupon the speaker, with an agile 
 movement, swung himself from his perch 
 and dropping close to Tom, threw his arms 
 about his neck. 
 
IN FLY-TIME 135 
 
 " Your hand, sir, your hand." 
 
 Tom, who still was grasping the end of the 
 rope, which was wound around the tree, be 
 ing of a forgiving disposition, let go, and 
 suffered his fingers to be grasped by the en 
 thusiastic stranger. 
 
 "You re a hero, sir. The country shall 
 know of this. Permit me to introduce my 
 self." 
 
 The young man he was a thin, nervous- 
 looking, snappy-eyed individual of about 
 thirty, with a prominent Eoman nose fum 
 bled in his vest - pocket and produced a 
 printed card. Tom read the inscription with 
 a feeling akin to horror : " Irving K. Baker, 
 Foxburgh Mail and Gazette." 
 
 " The most enterprising newspaper in the 
 United States. Have you a cabinet photo 
 graph of yourself, sir, on the premises ? " 
 
 The necessity of answering this question 
 was averted for the moment by the arrival, in 
 a breathless condition, of Mrs. Nichols, who 
 threw herself and the baby upon Tom in one 
 warm indiscriminate embrace. 
 
 Mr. Baker s hat was off in an instant, and 
 he jumped and changed feet. " Your lady, 
 sir?" 
 
136 IN FLY-TIME 
 
 "This is my wife, Mrs. Thomas Nichols. 
 Elizabeth, this is Mr. er Irving K. Baker, 
 one of the gentlemen in the balloon." 
 
 " Charmed to make your acquaintance, 
 Mrs. Nichols. Allow me, madam, to con 
 gratulate you on the noble act of heroism just 
 performed by your husband. At great per 
 sonal risk he has guided the course of the ill- 
 fated George Washington, which rose an 
 hour ago in Foxburgh amid the shouts of 
 thousands of free-born American citizens, so 
 successfully that Professor Stroufc and myself 
 have been enabled to seek refuge in the 
 branches of this noble elm at a moment when 
 instant destruction seemed to stare us both in 
 the face." 
 
 "Where is Professor Strout?" inquired 
 Elizabeth, who was of a practical turn of 
 mind nothwithstanding her extreme devotion 
 to her husband. As for Tom, his attention 
 had been momentarily diverted by the sight 
 of his children, all of whom, after realizing 
 that the race was over, had stopped to gather 
 up the fireworks which Mr. Irving Baker had 
 let fall, and were now moving swiftly toward 
 him with laden pockets and arms. 
 
 " I am safe, madam, and will be down in a 
 
IN FLY-TIME 137 
 
 moment," said the professor, answering for 
 himself from the summit of the tree. Tom 
 and his wife, gazing eagerly through the 
 foliage, beheld a pleasant-looking man, of 
 about the same age as Mr. Baker, absorbed in 
 grappling with the remains of the collapsed 
 air-monster. 
 
 " One of the most celebrated aeronauts in 
 the country," explained the reporter. "This 
 is his twenty-sixth voyage, and he has never 
 broken a limb." 
 
 " What was the matter with the balloon ? " 
 inquired Mrs. Nichols. 
 
 " She burst, madam, in mid-air, not once, 
 but twice, and, had our course not been 
 providentially guided by your husband, the 
 probabilities are that we should now be lying 
 inanimate within a short distance from this 
 spot. Where are we, by-the-way ? " 
 
 " You re on the widow Coffin s farm," said 
 Uncle Reuben, who, in company with the 
 two females of his family, had just hobbled 
 up in time to answer this inquiry. 
 
 " I expect we ll be able to take our Fourth 
 of July dinner with you," continued Mr. 
 Baker, suavely, addressing Mrs. Coffin, with 
 a quick perception that she was the mistress 
 
138 IN FLY-TIME 
 
 of the situation. He glanced at the same 
 time so admiringly at Maretta that the 
 country lass looked up and then down. 
 
 " How many be you ? " asked the widow. 
 
 " Two. Professor Strout and myself." 
 
 " There s a goose and apple sass and a 
 plum pudding. I guess you re welcome," re 
 plied Mrs. Coffin. 
 
 " Can we have these, sir?" broke in Tom s 
 eldest boy of eleven, indicating the spoils 
 which he and his brothers had collected. 
 
 "Bless your hearts, yes. We ll let the 
 crackers off after dinner, and in the evening 
 we ll have a genuine Fourth of July fireworks 
 show, with rockets and booms and Catherine- 
 wheels." 
 
 " Bully for you ! " cried the children to 
 gether, and Maretta let slip a gratified " Oh, 
 my!" 
 
 " We haven t had any fire-crackers to-day," 
 said the eldest boy. 
 
 " What s that ? " cried Mr. Baker, with an 
 astonished and suspicious glance at Tom. 
 " Are you an Englishman ? " 
 
 "No, sir. It was an accident. They 
 usually have plenty." 
 
 " My advent, then, is a peculiarly f ortu- 
 
JJV FLY-TIME 139 
 
 nate circumstance," answered Irving K. 
 Baker. 
 
 A few minutes Inter the entire party was 
 on its way to the farm-house in the gayest of 
 spirits. That is, all except Tom. He lagged 
 a little behind, reflecting that his day was 
 completely spoiled, and that even on an 
 abandoned farm a man is not safe from the 
 Fourth of July. They were clearly in 
 for a noisy time ; and nobody, not even his 
 wife, was disposed to sympathize with him 
 on the subject. What with the heroism of 
 her husband, and the escape of the occupants 
 of the balloon, and the happiness of her 
 children, and the blithe spirits of Mr. Irving 
 K. Baker, and last, but not least, the pathetic 
 tenor voice of Professor Alvin Strout, who 
 had come down from the tree-top with the 
 remains of the late " George "Washington," 
 trolling plaintively a stanza of " Oh, why 
 should the spirit of mortal be proud ? " Mrs. 
 Nichols was in a state of pleased excitement. 
 As for Maretta, it was obvious that she was 
 at loss to decide whether the professor was 
 " a more elegant gentleman " than the re 
 porter, or vice versa. The professor was in 
 clined to be stout, and he had a wavy dark- 
 
140 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 brown mustache and curly hair, which gave 
 him a more fetching appearance than Mr. 
 Baker, who was lean and smooth-shaven. 
 Maretta, who walked in front with the re 
 porter, kept casting sheep s eyes over her 
 shoulder at the professor, by way of holding 
 them both in tow. The professor walked 
 with Mrs. Nichols, to whom he related his 
 entire personal history before they reached 
 the farm-house. It appeared that he came 
 of a family of balloonists. His father and 
 grandfather had each been noted aeronauts, 
 and the latter had been drowned in the Bay 
 of Biscay after an explosion very similar to 
 that which had worked the ruin of the late 
 "George Washington." The professor, not 
 unnaturally, was a little lachrymose over the 
 loss of his balloon, in which he had made four 
 successful trips already. She had burst the 
 first time without warning just over the spot 
 where Mr. Nichols had been slumbering; 
 but, though Mr. Baker had been eager to de 
 scend at this juncture, the professor himself 
 had done his best to continue his voyage 
 until the second catastrophe had proved the 
 futility of his endeavor. 
 
 " But I have nothing to reproach myself 
 
IN FLY-TIME 141 
 
 with," he concluded, wiping his eyes. " Al 
 though I am accustomed to fall on my feet, 
 it appears that I have been more than usu 
 ally fortunate on this occasion," he added, 
 with a gallant bow. 
 
 Mrs. Nichols had it on the tip of her 
 tongue to remark that he would be sure to 
 fall on his head some day instead of his feet, 
 but she reflected that, as he was a balloonist 
 by profession, there was really no use in 
 pointing out its dangers at a time when he 
 was already depressed. They had now 
 reached the house, where the atmosphere 
 was rife with the savor of roast goose, which 
 so far restored the spirits of the professor 
 that he rubbed his hands cheerily together, 
 and presently began to perform some acts of 
 legerdemain, ostensibly for the amusement 
 of the children, but it may be with an eye to 
 Maretta also. He seized two of the new 
 rabbits, and with a deft movement of his fin 
 gers rolled them into one, proceeded to swal 
 low the compound animal, and then shook 
 them both from Mr. Irving Baker s hat. The 
 children shrieked with pleasure, and Maretta 
 said, " Oh, my ! ain t he cute ? " so many 
 times that Mr. Baker felt called upon to play 
 
142 IN FLY-TIME 
 
 a solo on a jews-liarp and dance a jig to 
 avoid sinking into obscurity. 
 
 " Tom," whispered Mrs. Nichols, observing 
 that her husband had retired to a corner, 
 where he was sitting in glum despair, " here 
 is an occasion for the display of moral cour 
 age to serve as a pendant to your physical 
 bravery of the morning. Cheer up. He 
 really plays uncommonly well, and the pro 
 fessor actually made my heart leap into my 
 mouth when he rolled the two bunnies into 
 one." 
 
 " That Baker will have us all in his con 
 founded newspaper to-morrow morning. I 
 see it in his eye. To think, Elizabeth, of 
 what our Fourth of July was intended to be, 
 and then consider what it is ! I almost wish 
 I had let the George Washington 
 
 " Dinner ! " exclaimed the widow Coffin, 
 entering from the kitchen, and cutting short 
 thereby Tom s dire malediction. 
 
 " Be brave," whispered his wife. " It can 
 not last long, and if the goose only holds out 
 we shall do famously." 
 
 A phrase of tender conjugal appeal is often 
 more effective than a page of Scripture. 
 
 Tom clinched his teeth and seized the 
 
IN FLY-TIME U3 
 
 carving-knife. " I will do my best, dear," 
 he murmured. 
 
 Tom s best was very good indeed. He 
 carved the goose with consummate skill, so 
 that everyone had enough, and at the first 
 mention of the word Fourth of July he rose 
 from the table, and reappeared with sundry 
 bottles of ale from his private stock, in which 
 a variety of toasts appropriate to the occa 
 sion, proposed in a very witty fashion by Mr. 
 Baker, were drunk. Then the professor sat 
 down at the piano and sang " The Lost 
 Chord," and Mr. Baker, to cap the climax, 
 recited Poe s " Eaven," without the slightest 
 provocation excepting the ale in question. 
 Maretta, who waited at table, and who had 
 been in a state of concentrated giggle over 
 the humorous portion of the programme, was 
 now in tears, and Uncle Reuben confided to 
 Tom that " them two were better n the thea 
 tre, and, barrin the absence of wild animals, 
 most as good as a circus." The professor, to 
 prove, perhaps, that he had his lighter side 
 in song as well as real life, then supplement 
 ed " The Lost Chord " with a negro ditty, 
 which captivated everybody, especially Mrs. 
 Coffin. 
 
144: IN FLY-TIME 
 
 " He s just real comical," she said, in a 
 stage-whisper. " It s too bad/ she added to 
 the company, with a pathetic air, " Maretta 
 ain t got no accomplishments." 
 
 All eyes were directed toward the young 
 woman in question, who flushed becomingly, 
 and who, as so many young women in her 
 position with accomplishments would have 
 done, said nothing tart to her mother in re 
 ply. She merely looked down, much to the 
 disgust both of the professor and Mr. Baker, 
 whose glances plainly declared that they 
 were prepared to think none the less of her 
 on that account. She was really a very 
 pretty girl, save for the bang which disfig 
 ured her comeliness, and she had taken ad 
 vantage of a few moments which had inter 
 vened between the reporter s performance on 
 the jews-harp and dinner to put on a pale 
 blue silk frock. 
 
 " For my part, Mrs. Coffin, I think that 
 she is to be heartily congratulated because 
 she hasn t any," said Tom, by way of com 
 mentary on the widow s grievance. 
 
 This was the only speech of doubtful pro 
 priety of which Tom was guilty, and its ef 
 fect was speedily counteracted by the cigars 
 
DINNER!" 
 
IN FLY-TIME 145 
 
 which he presented at this juncture to the 
 two performers, who had cast suspicious 
 looks in his direction. 
 
 " You are a gentleman and a scholar, sir," 
 said Mr. Baker, with affable satisfaction as 
 he accepted the proffered Regalia Britannica. 
 " If your young Americans would like to fire 
 off those cannon crackers I am entirely at 
 their and your service." 
 
 For the next fifteen minutes the abandoned 
 farm was one of the noisiest spots in the uni 
 verse. When the last pop had been uttered 
 and the smoke was clearing away, Mr. Irving- 
 Baker announced that he would devote his 
 energies to erecting a frame -work for the 
 rockets and Catherine - wheels to be dis 
 charged after dark, and he said to Professor 
 Strout, 
 
 " I will match you, Alvin, to see whether 
 you or I go to the wood-pile for an axe and 
 lumber." 
 
 Thereupon the reporter drew from his 
 pocket his mascot, an old-fashioned United 
 States cent, which he flipped into the air. 
 
 " If you are to match me, mine s a head," 
 said the professor, who had a Mexican dollar 
 as the genius of his fortunes. 
 10 
 
146 IN FLY-TIME 
 
 " I have done it," said Mr. Baker, triumph 
 antly, and he glanced contentedly in the di 
 rection of Maretta. There was a correspond 
 ing look of depression on the countenance of 
 the baffled magician as, accompanied by the 
 children and Uncle Reuben, he proceeded 
 toward the barn. Who knows but he was 
 reflecting that a stroke of legerdemain would, 
 under the circumstances, have been wiser 
 than trusting to that bawd, Fortune ? 
 
 Seeing Mr. Baker and Maretta compose 
 themselves on the door-step, Mrs. Nichols 
 whispered in Tom s ear : " You have been a 
 hero twice to-day, dear boy. Go upstairs 
 and try to get forty winks. I am certain 
 that every fire-cracker has been set off, and 
 I will take baby to the barn." 
 
 Tom did as he was bid. The conscious 
 ness of virtue is apt to be its own reward. 
 He fell asleep almost instantly, and his slum 
 ber was pleasantly agitated by a promising 
 idea for the library at Foxburgh. He had 
 slept just ten minutes when this vision was 
 rudely interrupted by a hand laid on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Why in thunder " he began. 
 
 " Tom, dear, I m awfully sorry, but I had 
 
"MINE S A HEAD," SAID THE PROFESSOR 
 
IN FLY-TIME 147 
 
 to wake you. Professor Strout has fallen 
 from the loft in the barn and broken his leg." 
 
 Tom sat up and rubbed his eyes. Even 
 the serious nature of this announcement did 
 not restrain him from exclaiming, " I was 
 just getting a grand idea for the library, and 
 now I ve lost it. Confound the professor 
 and the Fourth of July ! What did you say 
 Elizabeth? Broken his leg? Poor fellow! 
 How did he manage to do that ? " 
 
 "He was looking for a suitable piece of 
 wood for the rocket-stand, and he fell over 
 backward at almost the same point as Uncle 
 Reuben Coffin fell years ago." 
 
 " Now that s a queer coincidence, isn t it ? " 
 said Tom. 
 
 " Yes. They need you to help move him 
 to the house." 
 
 " To think," said Tom, as he slipped on 
 his coat, " that a man should drop with a 
 balloon and get off scot-free, and within two 
 hours break his leg by falling from an every 
 day commonplace barn loft ! " 
 
 " Isn t it odd ! " But Mrs. Nichols was 
 more interested in the live features of the 
 case. " What are we to do, Tom ? " she 
 added earnestly. "The nearest doctor is 
 
148 IN FLY-TIME 
 
 at Middleborough, which is ten miles from 
 here. The horse is lame, you know." 
 
 "So he is." Tom stopped on his way 
 downstairs. "If he has really broken his 
 leg, I shall go for the doctor on my wheel." 
 
 " Oh, Tom, you haven t had experience 
 enough. You would never get there." 
 
 " I shall go. We can t let him die on our 
 hands." There was a sort of fierce fervor in 
 his tone. 
 
 " This is a fine outfit," exclaimed Mr. 
 Baker, who met them at the barn door. " A 
 sad ending to a delightful day." 
 
 Tom passed in and found a dismal little 
 group bending over the prostrate form of the 
 unfortunate balloonist, who was lying on an 
 improvised hay bed. 
 
 "Papa, papa," cried the children, "the 
 gentleman who swallowed the rabbits has 
 hurt himself." 
 
 "His leg s broke and the bone s protrudin . 
 He struck the floor three inches to the 
 south ard of where I fell twenty years back," 
 explained Uncle Reuben. 
 
 "I guess it s nothing to worry over," said 
 the victim, but the effort of turning slightly 
 to look at Tom distressed him so greatly 
 
IN FLY-TIME 149 
 
 that he groaned. " Can t walk to the house, 
 though." 
 
 " No ; we re going to carry you," said his 
 friend. " You ll feel better as soon as we 
 get you on a soft bed." He murmured to 
 Tom, "It s a pretty poor lookout with the 
 doctor ten miles off and the farm-horse lame." 
 
 " Yes," replied Tom. " Do you ride a 
 bicycle?" 
 
 " Nop." 
 
 Tom said nothing further at the moment, 
 but, after they had deposited the professor 
 on Mrs. Coffin s bed, he leaned over him and 
 said : " I ll have the doctor here in a jiffy. 
 I m going for him on my wheel." 
 
 " Oh, my ! " said Maretta. 
 
 " Tom," said Mrs. Nichols, following him 
 to the door, " if you re going, I m going too." 
 
 " Nonsense, dear." 
 
 " It s ten miles. Supposing anything 
 should happen to you ? You ve never ridden 
 more than half a mile before at a time." 
 
 " Neither have you." 
 
 " No ; but if anything should happen, we 
 should be together. Oh, Tom, I must go. 
 Besides, it will be moonlight coming home." 
 
 " Or broad daylight," 
 
150 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 Mr. Baker, who had followed them down 
 the staircase listening to the conversation, 
 took out his note-book with a graphic air. 
 " It seems to me a most charming idea that 
 your wife should accompany you. It will 
 add a peculiarly picturesque feature to the 
 extraordinary incidents of the day, which I 
 intend to describe at full length in a special 
 article in the columns of the Foxburgh Mail 
 and Gazette." 
 
 " How dare you, sir ? " exclaimed Tom, 
 turning upon him with the sudden ire of one 
 who has been goaded beyond his strength, 
 and grasping him by the sleeve. " How dare 
 you threaten to describe the personal affairs 
 of myself and Mrs. Nichols in the public 
 press ? I have put up with enough to-day 
 already, but this is the last straw. Promise 
 me that you will not allude to me or mine in 
 any manner whatsoever, or I will not stir 
 one step on this errand." 
 
 " Tom, Tom," whispered Mrs. Nichols, 
 " you forget yourself. Do not spoil all after 
 you have acted so splendidly." 
 
 Mr. Baker had torn himself loose from 
 Tom s grasp, and stood with folded arms, 
 the picture of haughty contempt, waiting 
 
IN FLY-TIME 151 
 
 for this outburst to terminate. Then he 
 said : 
 
 " You are an enemy of the institutions of 
 your country, sir. My suspicions were already 
 aroused, but I am sure of it now. You are 
 out of sympathy with the fitting celebration 
 of this glorious day ; you have hidden in the 
 country, and refused fire-crackers to your chil 
 dren ; you sneer at popular diversions ; and 
 last, and worst, you would muzzle the liberty 
 of the press. You are an aristocrat, sir, a 
 cold-blooded aristocrat. But the great demo 
 cratic press snaps its fingers at you." 
 
 " Mr. Baker," protested Mrs. Nichols, with 
 engaging mien, " my husband is tired and 
 run down ; he has come to this place for his 
 health, and the many exciting events of the 
 day have worn upon him. He did not mean 
 what he said, believe me. We are going for 
 the doctor of course, and we feel nothing but 
 the kindest sentiments toward you and Pro 
 fessor Strout ; but but can t you understand 
 that to people who have no taste for publicity 
 the idea of being described in the newspapers 
 as bicycle - riders on an errand of mercy 
 would be very annoying, especially if it were 
 illustrated ? " 
 
152 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 " Of course it would be illustrated," said 
 Baker, " and in our best style. I believed 
 you would like it, madam." There was dis 
 appointment in his tone. 
 
 The interruption by his wife had given 
 Tom time to think. "I beg your pardon," 
 he said, extending his hand. " I had no 
 right to speak as I did. As Mrs. Nichols 
 has said to you, my nerves are unstrung. 
 Pray accept my apologies, and after the 
 doctor has been brought here we will discuss 
 this further." 
 
 Mr. Baker s eyes lighted up with the gleam 
 of generosity. " I am happy to withdraw 
 the epithets which I used in the heat of con 
 troversy," he said, as he returned the hand 
 shake. 
 
 " Odious miscreant and interloper ! " mut 
 tered Tom five minutes later as he mounted 
 his machine. 
 
 " Sh ! " answered Elizabeth. " Don t, for 
 Heaven s sake, agitate me now, dear, for if I 
 should fall before these people it would be 
 the crowning stroke, and I do feel wobbly." 
 
 The two riders worked their way along the 
 highway with careful deliberation, followed 
 by the plaudits not only of their children, 
 
IN FLY-TIME 153 
 
 but of the rest of the company. They could 
 hear Uncle Keuben limping after them in his 
 unwillingness to lose sight of them, and tell 
 ing them the route for the fifth time. 
 
 " We can t expect not to come to grief be 
 fore long," continued Elizabeth, "but I do 
 hope that nothing will happen until w r e get 
 round the bend. Don t go quite so fast, Torn, 
 dear." 
 
 " I suppose," said Tom, with a sigh, " that 
 I was a fool to get mad. He and I look at 
 things from entirely different points of view. 
 I loathe the Fourth of July and he loves it, 
 and he says I m a cold-blooded aristocrat. 
 I m willing to die for my country, but why 
 should my wife and children be paraded in 
 the newspapers ? " 
 
 " And on bicycles, too ! Oh, Tom, can you 
 blow your nose ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Neither can I. I wonder if I shall ever 
 be able to ride with one hand ? And some 
 people use neither. I think they re both 
 taken by Maretta don t you ? " 
 
 " She s too good for them." 
 
 " Not a bit. You re prejudiced, Tom. I 
 think they re rather nice. Mr. Baker s just 
 
154 IN FLY -TIME 
 
 the sort of man who is liable to become 
 President of the United States, and a girl 
 might well think twice before refusing an 
 aeronaut who could be a necromancer when 
 business was dull. Oh, Tom, are you going 
 to coast ? " 
 
 Tom was. "We shall never get there if 
 we don t. It looks like a smooth hill." 
 
 Up went their feet, and down they went. 
 Elizabeth gave a little shriek, which was 
 partly joy and partly apprehension, when 
 they were half-way down. 
 
 On they went with increasing confidence. 
 A fly flew straight into Elizabeth s eye, and 
 in pain and bewilderment she clapped one 
 hand to the spot, and in another instant came 
 rudely in contact with a fence at the road 
 side. But this might happen to anyone, she 
 remarked, after she had remounted. It was 
 an exquisite afternoon. The sunset clouds 
 were beginning to variegate the west, and the 
 landscape was a delight to behold. The loos 
 ening of one of the nuts in Tom s machine 
 caused a delay of fifteen minutes. Presently 
 it became necessary to pump air into one of 
 the pneumatic tires. But these were trifles, 
 and on they went. 
 
IN FLY-TIME 155 
 
 " Why do you keep chirruping to your 
 wheel as if it were a horse ? " asked Eliza 
 beth presently. 
 
 " Because I can t forget that it isn t a horse. 
 When that train went by a few minutes ago 
 I expected it to rear. When I wish it to go 
 faster I say click, and feel like an idiot a 
 moment after." 
 
 They stopped at a farm-house for some 
 milk, and learned that they had covered one- 
 half of the distance in a little less than an 
 hour, including stops. Ten minutes later the 
 sun went down. 
 
 " Now it will be cooler and more poetic," 
 said Elizabeth. "Do I look like a guy, 
 Tom?" 
 
 " No ; you are perfectly sweet." 
 
 " That was lovely of you, even if it was a 
 white lie. When the moon comes out it will 
 be heavenly." 
 
 " Look," cried Tom, pointing to the ho 
 rizon, where the streak of the first rocket in 
 dicated that the American people were still 
 hard at work. Ten minutes later the whole 
 sky was alive with distant fireworks varie 
 gated by heat-lightning. Ten minutes later 
 Elizabeth s machine broke down. It hap- 
 
15C> IN FLY- TIME 
 
 pened without warning, and the break was 
 radical and comprehensive. Their combined 
 mechanical resources were put utterly to con 
 fusion. What were they to do? They sat 
 upon a fence to ponder the matter. 
 
 " You must go on," said Elizabeth, firmly. 
 
 " And leave you behind ? " 
 
 " That poor man must have a doctor." 
 
 " You might go and let me stay." 
 
 " No ; a woman riding a bicycle alone at 
 dead of night would be worse than a woman 
 sitting on a fence. I will stay here." 
 
 " But, Elizabeth, supposing something or 
 some one should " 
 
 " Pooh ! " she interrupted. " As for some 
 things, there are no bears or lions ; and as 
 for some ones, all the tramps must have gone 
 to town to see the fireworks. When the 
 moon gets up it will not even be pokey. I 
 shall sit on this fence and poetize until you 
 return. Kiss me, dear, and go." 
 
 Tom obeyed. His embrace suggested a 
 little that he might be parting with her for 
 ever, but he had no arguments wherewith to 
 refute her logic. Once under way his appre 
 hensions lent velocity to his pace. He took 
 chances, and therefore two headers. But he 
 
IN FLY-TIM!-: 157 
 
 made slightly better time. He was sore, 
 dirty, and tired when he reached the doctor s 
 house, which looked forbiddingly dark. It 
 was half past eight. The doctor must have 
 gone to bed, or more probably to see the 
 fireworks in the town, which were in full 
 blaze when Tom arrived. He dismounted 
 and rang. Presently the window was thrown 
 open, and a head appeared. 
 
 " Holloa, there ! " 
 
 " Is Dr. Hopkins at home ? " 
 
 "I m the doctor. What ll you have?" 
 said a cheery voice. 
 
 Tom explained his needs. 
 
 "The widow Coffin s farm? That s the 
 end of everything, isn t it? And I was just 
 trying to forget that I had attended seven 
 cases of singed young America and two cases 
 of * didn t know it was loaded since the sun 
 rose on this glorious anniversary. I ll be 
 down in a minute." 
 
 It was barely five minutes before the doctor 
 opened the door. He was tall and athletic 
 looking. " My wife, my children, my hired 
 man, and my hired girl have all gone to see 
 the fireworks," he said, " so you ll excuse my 
 not letting you in sooner. I saw you were on 
 
158 IN FLY- TIME 
 
 a bicycle, so I m in bicycle rig too. It s a 
 fine night for a spin. I think nothing of 
 twenty miles." 
 
 " Yes," said Tom, with a gasp. " Excuse 
 me er there s a lady in the case." 
 
 " I thought you said it was a man." 
 
 " A man has broken his leg, but my wife is 
 sitting on a fence half -way between here and 
 the farm." 
 
 " Anything serious ? " said Dr. Hopkins, 
 who from this description jumped at the con 
 clusion that there must be two patients in 
 stead of one. 
 
 " I mean that my wife s bicycle has broken 
 down, and I had to come on alone, and and 
 if we ride back on bicycles, what is to become 
 of her?" 
 
 "Oh, I see. That s easily solved. I ll 
 hitch up the bay and drive instead, and pick 
 up your wife on the way. Or, no," added 
 the doctor, slapping his thigh, " there s a 
 better way still ; I ll take your bicycle, and 
 tell the lady that you re coming." There 
 upon he began to strap his bag of implements 
 on to Tom s machine. 
 
 " I m very grateful, I m sure," said Tom, 
 who had been wondering how he should be 
 
IN FLY-TIME 159 
 
 able to keep pace with the doctor on a wheel. 
 The doctor might think nothing of twenty 
 miles, but ten had taken all the wind and en 
 ergy out of him. A half-hour later he caught 
 sight at last of a solitary figure perched on a 
 fence, and realized that Elizabeth was where 
 he had left her. 
 
 " Well, dear," she cried, as he drew in the 
 quiet, plodding nag, " here I am safe and 
 sound. You don t know how my heart 
 throbbed with envy as I beheld the doctor 
 flying toward me. I thought it was you, and 
 I said to myself, How splendidly he rides ! 
 And I never realized it wasn t you until he 
 rode up to me and said, * This must be Mrs 
 Nichols. Do you suppose we shall ever be 
 able to ride as he does ? " 
 
 " And nothing harmed you ? " asked Tom, 
 avoiding the question. 
 
 " Nothing worse than a bat. And I thought 
 I smelled a polecat. It was lovely though, 
 Tom ; so peaceful and poetic. The fence was 
 a little hard, but I was afraid to lie down for 
 fear of creeping things. What time is it, 
 dear ? " she asked, as she settled back in the 
 comfortable vehicle, while Tom carefully con 
 cealed the broken bicycle behind the fence. 
 
ICO IN FLY-TIME 
 
 " A little after nine." 
 
 Elizabeth was silent for a few moments ; 
 then she said, " An ordinary horse and 
 buggy are really very satisfactory in the long- 
 run, after all." 
 
 " I should think they were," said Tom, as 
 he took the reins. 
 
 They were not long in reaching the aban 
 doned farm which they now called home. 
 Mr. Baker met them at the gate on arrival. 
 He was in high spirits, for Dr. Hopkins had 
 agreed to carry him as far as their ways were 
 the same, and he would be in Foxburgh in 
 time to print the article which he had written 
 for the morning paper. He said that the 
 professor was as comfortable as could be ex 
 pected, and that the fracture was nothing out 
 of the common run of broken legs, but that 
 prompt medical attendance had doubtless 
 saved him from pain and the risk of serious 
 complications. 
 
 " I beg to offer you, both on his behalf and 
 on mine, the heartiest thanks for your philan 
 thropic and generous assistance," continued 
 Mr. Baker, with fervor, as they walked toward 
 the house after the horse had been hitched. 
 " But for your night ride of mercy my friend s 
 
A SOLITARY FIGURE PERCHED ON A FENCE 
 
IN FLY-TIME 161 
 
 leg might have been lost to him forever, if 
 not his life endangered. While the free 
 press of this countiy yields neither to threats 
 nor to pressure, a noble action is never lost 
 upon it. Permit me to inform you that there 
 is not the slightest allusion to either of you 
 in the chronicle of the day s adventure which 
 I have prepared during your absence." He 
 produced as he spoke a roll of manuscript, 
 which he held out rhetorically. " The omis 
 sion will be a loss to literature, and a mani 
 fest renunciation of the legitimate fruits of 
 journalistic enterprise, but I take the respon 
 sibility upon my own shoulders." 
 
 Mr. Baker s tones were those of one who 
 feels that he is making a sacrifice, but yet is 
 willing and glad to make it. His thin, nervous 
 face looked solemn and impressive in the 
 moonlight. 
 
 " It s very kind of you, I am sure," said 
 Mrs. Nichols. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, we re very much obliged to 
 you," murmured Tom. 
 
 They both felt like guilty wretches. 
 
 " Don t mention it," said Mr. Baker, with 
 a wave of his hand. 
 
 He still remained outside, while Tom and 
 11 
 
162 IN FLY-TIME 
 
 his wife went upstairs to make sure that the 
 children had been properly looked after and 
 to inquire for the invalid. They found the 
 professor in the possession of the Coffin 
 family, who were bent on making him com 
 fortable. His leg had been set, and the 
 doctor was on the eve of departure. The 
 children, who were still awake, were loud in 
 their praises of Mr. Baker s display of fire 
 works. 
 
 " I feel somehow as though that man had 
 sacrificed his principles for us, and put us 
 under obligation for life," said Elizabeth to 
 her husband. 
 
 " So do I," said Tom, " and yet there is 
 not the slightest reason why we should feel 
 so." 
 
 But he went to his drawer, and taking out 
 half a dozen of his best cigars, slipped down 
 stairs. Mr. Baker was still out-doors, and 
 was looking at the moon meditatively. 
 
 " Perhaps these will come in pleasantly 
 during your journey," said Tom. 
 
 The reporter took the cigars with a bow, 
 and immediately proceeded to light one. 
 Then he put his arm in Tom s, and said, in a 
 whisper, 
 
IN FLY-TIME 163 
 
 " Is Maretta keeping company with any 
 one ? " 
 
 This was a little disconcerting, but Tom 
 duly found his tongue. " Not to my knowl 
 edge ; but, you know, I arrived only last 
 night." 
 
 " True," said Mr. Baker, with an air of 
 gloom. " I beg to inform you, in the strict 
 est confidence, that I intend to make her 
 Mrs. Irving K. Baker, and I now invite you 
 and your lady to be present at the ceremony, 
 which I hope will take place in the early 
 fall." 
 
 " I accept, with pleasure," said Tom, 
 " provided " 
 
 He had been going to say, provided he 
 were still there, but Mr. Baker finished the 
 sentence for him : 
 
 " Provided, of course, that no unforeseen 
 obstacles to the match on the part of the 
 young lady arise in the near future." 
 
 How often are experiences which we think 
 unfortunate at the time conducive to our ul 
 timate welfare ! If any one had prophesied 
 to Tom Nichols, the architect, when he chose 
 an abandoned farm as a spot where he might 
 meditate on art to advantage, that ultimately 
 
16-i IN FLY-TIME 
 
 he would owe the award in his favor for the 
 Roxburgh Public Library to the acquaint 
 ance made by him on the Fourth of July with 
 a reporter who had fallen with a balloon, he 
 would have considered the prophet mad. 
 And yet this proved to be the case, for Irving 
 K. Baker was chosen a member of the City 
 Council of Foxburgh in the following autumn, 
 and subsequently became a member and 
 leading spirit of the Committee on the New 
 Library. Let it be said to Mr. Baker s 
 credit that at the time he voted in favor of 
 Tom s design he had been crossed in love, 
 and was in a doleful state of mind, which in 
 some mortals might have bred a malignant 
 spirit toward all abandoned farms and their 
 occupants. Obstacles on the part of the 
 young lady had arisen, in spite of the fact 
 that the suitor paid weekly visits to the 
 abandoned farm, and sent sundry and fre 
 quent gifts of candy and fruit to take the 
 place of his presence. Sad to relate, the 
 professor ate much of the candy and fruit in 
 the course of his prolonged convalescence, 
 and by the time he was well had persuaded 
 the fair Maretta to link her destiny to his. 
 She became Mrs. Alvin Strout on a beautiful 
 
IN FLY-TIME 105 
 
 September day. The professor had suggested 
 the appropriateness of being married in mid 
 air in a balloon, and offered to provide a 
 clergyman willing to risk the voyage; but 
 Maretta decided in favor of a church. Tom 
 and his wife were present, and they rode to 
 the church on bicycles with amazing swift 
 ness. Tom was rested and five pounds 
 heavier, with his design for the library firmly 
 in his mind s eye. And Mr. Baker was there 
 too, magnanimous to the last. In spite of 
 his feelings he wrote a dazzling account of 
 the nuptials, headed " A Society Wedding on 
 an Abandoned Farm," in which the names of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Nichols did not ap 
 pear. 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 MY name is Doddridge George Harper 
 Doddridge though it is scarcely im 
 portant for you to know it, seeing that I am 
 to be merely a chronicler. I am addressed 
 familiarly among my friends and acquaint 
 ances as Dodd; but some of the married 
 ones, whose children are encouraged to ride 
 horseback on my either leg as a sort of in 
 demnity for the dinners I consume, call me 
 Uncle George a pseudonyme which has been 
 adopted also by the younger set at the club. 
 I am the oldest bachelor in the house, and 
 yet I am not so very old. Excepting a grizzly 
 patch on either side, my hair is still dark and 
 abundant as a lad s, save for a bald spot on 
 the crown ; and I can see straight as the crow 
 flies, which all married men of fifty are not 
 able to do. I mention these details merely 
 to demonstrate that I am neither lame, halt, 
 nor blind. And yet they call me Uncle 
 
170 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 George. I suppose the reason is because I 
 have been catalogued as a confirmed old 
 bachelor, and consequently am regarded as a 
 safe repository for all sorts of confidences 
 and a convenient object of social charity. It 
 is generally understood that I shall never 
 marry. My story ? Pardon me, I intend to 
 keep that one to myself. Yet I will tell you 
 that I am pointed out to young girls in their 
 first season as a constant man, and I have de 
 tected in the eyes of more than one of them a 
 look of sympathetic pity, suggestive of a desire 
 to ask me all about it, if they only dared. 
 
 I am the oldest bachelor in the house, both 
 in point of years and occupancy. My rooms 
 are the pleasantest of their kind. From one 
 of my parlor windows I command a glimpse 
 of the harbor over the chimney-tops, and 
 from the other see hills green with foliage or 
 white with snow, according to the season. I 
 came here twenty years ago to a small low 
 house where there was accommodation for 
 only four other lodgers. Eight years back 
 this was pulled down, and on the ground 
 formerly covered by it and two adjoining 
 buildings the present towering apartment 
 house was erected. I went around the world 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 171 
 
 while the work was being done, and on my 
 return installed myself in my present quar 
 ters, where I intend to die. The homelike 
 feeling which I knew beneath the roof with a 
 landlady has departed, but I have all the 
 modern conveniences under the sway of a 
 janitor; notably plumbing and electricity. 
 There is a fire-escape at my bed-chamber 
 window ; but if the house burns, I shall bum 
 with it rather than risk the descent. It is 
 well enough for the family man to go down 
 a stepladder in his night-gown at dead of 
 night ; but I have only a nephew, who will 
 not be inconsolable, to mourn me. 
 
 This vicinity is a favorite one for bache 
 lors, and deservedly so, for it is central, and 
 many things which single men who have to 
 shift for themselves require are close at hand ; 
 though, come to think of it, the bachelors 
 were here before the creature comforts, and 
 the neighborhood has grown up to cater to 
 our necessities. The three houses which 
 stood where our apartment-house, the Bex- 
 ford, now stands were all occupied by single 
 men, and there were other warrens across the 
 way and on the same street, out of which or 
 into which at almost any hour of the day or 
 
172 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 night single men were liable to pop. Now 
 the Rexford shelters all ; and shelters not 
 merely bachelors, for in the flat immediately 
 under mine a girl artist lives a blameless life, 
 and across the entry from hers is the home 
 of a woman who writes for the society news 
 papers, and has literary aspirations. Our 
 little world has become more complex now 
 that the sphere of woman has widened, and 
 there is a milliner as well as a florist and an 
 apothecary in close proximity to the Eexford. 
 Two doctors have their signs directly oppo 
 site, and there is another a bachelor in the 
 house. There is a cabman at the corner, and 
 altogether I am very well off for a single 
 man. 
 
 Twenty years ! They tell me I am growing 
 set, as all old bachelors do ; and I will admit 
 that I am more particular than I used to be 
 about my food, and like to have it at certain 
 times and piping hot. Still, I can assume as 
 cheerful a countenance as any man of my age, 
 or younger, if the dinner hour of my host be 
 eight o clock, or some heedless girl fresh from 
 the nursery makes a mistake of thirty min 
 utes and is a quarter tardy into the bargain. 
 A man who, like myself, is constantly climb- 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 173 
 
 ing up and down another s stairs cannot afford 
 to run amuck too fiercely with the world if 
 he does not wish to comprehend how much 
 more bitter in the long-run the club salt is 
 than any other. Twenty years! In that 
 time what an army of bachelors I have seen 
 stepping into life with the down on their 
 upper lips, and stepping from day to day, 
 briskly or sadly as the case might be, until 
 they walked up the aisle with a lover s pride, 
 or gave up the fight and subsided into mid 
 dle-aged single men with bald heads ! How 
 many stories I could tell of their doings 
 stories sometimes of wedding-cake and for 
 get-me-nots, and now of broken hearts and 
 ruined lives ! Here is one : 
 
 I used to think blood a delusion, and quite 
 at odds with democratic doctrine, but the 
 older I grow the more am I led to believe 
 that an honorable lineage is the best of heri 
 tages. To one who is not a pessimist or a 
 cynic traditions as to his father s father s 
 wisdom and his great-grandmother s engaging 
 charms act as spurs or incentives to noble 
 effort, even though the lustre of his house 
 has been dimmed by adversity and its useful 
 ness foreshortened by death. I have seen 
 
174 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 more than one man in a tight place squeal 
 like a calf, and have remembered that his 
 father was a miser, or a coward, or a boor. 
 
 Kobert Temple came to live in the old 
 house in the autumn of 71. The somewhat 
 fantastic nickname Kobin, which his mother 
 gave him when a little boy, had clung to him. 
 It seemed to suit him. He was a slim, rather 
 delicate-looking youth, with what was almost 
 an old-fashioned cast of countenance, and a 
 figure of the dainty type one associates with 
 the era of miniatures, flowered waistcoats, 
 and tight -fitting coats with brass buttons. 
 His hair was wavy, his expression thoughtful, 
 and his eyes dark, eloquent pleaders were 
 now wistful, now scintillant with enthusiasm. 
 
 I had met him casually before, but with 
 the indifference a young man is apt to accord 
 to another several years his junior, and my 
 real acquaintance dates from the evening 
 when I, the senior of the house, went up to 
 pay my respects to the new lodger. His 
 rooms were over mine, at the top of the house, 
 and he had been in possession only forty- 
 eight hours. I can see him now as he looked 
 when I entered. He was engaged in hanging 
 up the sword of his father, who fell at Get- 
 
RICHARD ANT) ROBIN 175 
 
 tysburg. As we shook hands the tear which 
 he had brushed off, doubtless, when he heard 
 my knock, moistened my wrist. We talked 
 at first of commonplace things the merits 
 and demerits of our landlady, and precautions 
 against the too rapid disappearance of coal ; 
 but presently the conversation drifted back 
 to that with which his soul was full. 
 
 " You were in the war ? " he asked. 
 
 " No ; I enlisted, but typhoid fever laid 
 me low before I was able even to learn the 
 tactics or wear a knapsack." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. "What a pity ! " he 
 said, softly, as though I had told him of some 
 vital grief which he had molested. " How I 
 envy my father ! " he said, presently. " All 
 puzzling problems were absorbed for him in 
 the opportunity to stand at his post and be 
 shot down for the sake of a great right." 
 
 I understood him well. Often had I up 
 braided Providence for leaving me in the 
 lurch when it gave my contemporaries the 
 chance to satisfy conscience at one fell swoop. 
 And here was another, who had been born 
 too late to claim his part, looking back long- 
 
 I answered Kobin sufficiently in this vein 
 
176 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 to show him that I sympathized with him, 
 yet I said, too : 
 
 " They are not the only heroes. The world 
 is full of opportunities to-day." 
 
 He looked up at me brightly. " I know 
 it," he said. " I ought to be ashamed of 
 myself for repining. I have come here to 
 work hard, Mr. Doddridge." 
 
 Glancing around the room, I saw evi 
 dences of taste and of an artistic tempera 
 ment on every side. A variety of prints and 
 etchings, each one of which caught the eye 
 by its merit, were on the walls or ready to 
 hang. Books, knick-knacks, a few pieces of 
 choice pottery, which he had picked up in 
 his two years abroad, were in process of ar 
 rangement. Close beside me was a large 
 portfolio. 
 
 " Will you let me look at some of your 
 work," I asked, " while you continue your 
 house-furnishing ? " 
 
 He seemed pleased, and cleared a space 
 on the table for the portfolio. While I ex 
 amined his sketches he stood at my elbow, 
 putting in a word of explanation noAV and 
 again, with a fantastic red and white feather 
 duster over his shoulder. When I had com* 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 177 
 
 to the end he began nervously to dust a Jap 
 anese tea-trav. 
 
 " Temple," I said, presently, delaying a 
 little perhaps to choose my words, loath to 
 praise too much, and yet wishing to express 
 my conviction that he had exceptional talent, 
 " I don t think you need envy anyone. Some 
 of these are delightful. You have a delicacy 
 of fancy of your own which is captivating, 
 and quite unusual. I plume myself on know 
 ing a little something about painting, and so 
 I make bold to give you my opinion." 
 
 " It is a limited range, however," he an 
 swered, though he flushed with gratification. 
 
 " Yes, it is limited, and a little too deli 
 cate, perhaps, for popular appreciation ; but 
 it is true. And truth is really what we are 
 all striving after, isn t it ? " 
 
 " Indeed it is. Thank you very much, Mr. 
 Doddridge. You have no idea how encour 
 aging your praise is to me. I was becoming 
 a little downcast. My family does not ap 
 prove of my art. They let me go abroad, 
 hoping to cure me, and they are disappointed 
 that I have come back with no more taste for 
 business than before." 
 
 I remembered that he had two older broth- 
 12 
 
ITS RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 ers John Temple, a coffee merchant, and 
 Samuel Temple, a gentleman farmer, who 
 had married a rich wife. 
 
 " Have your brothers seen these sketches ? " 
 I inquired. 
 
 "Yes. They say they are very pretty. 
 But my brother John seems to think they 
 won t sell. He says I can be a partner in 
 his firm in five years if I only buckle down." 
 
 " And are you tempted ? " 
 
 " If it were not for Dick Benton I should 
 have yielded before this. Don t you know 
 "Richard Benton ? " he added. 
 
 While the question was still on his lips 
 there was a sharp knock at the door, and by 
 an odd coincidence the young man to whom 
 he referred entered. I knew his people, and 
 had seen him as a lad on the streets, as in 
 the case of Robin, but he was practically a 
 new acquaintance. Two men were never 
 more unlike in personal appearance than 
 these two. Richard or Dick Benton, as 
 the world called him was a typical square- 
 shouldered, compact, sturdy specimen of hu 
 manity, with the bearing already at twenty- 
 five of an alert, shrewd man of affairs. As I 
 learned the next day, he had just started in 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 179 
 
 business for himself downtown. He looked 
 the kind of man who would never tire, has 
 no nerves, and not much imagination, yet of 
 whom one predicates, after the first five min 
 utes, that he has a large fund of horse-sense. 
 There was something refreshingly cheery and 
 wholesome in his demeanor which suggested 
 a steady west wind. 
 
 " We scarcely knew each other in college," 
 explained Robin, presently. " We became 
 intimate at one fell swoop, curiously enough, 
 on the Gorner Grat. We went up inde 
 pendently to see the sun rise, and became 
 friends." 
 
 " What a morning that was ! " said Ben ton. 
 
 " Wasn t it ? Not a cloud in the sky, and 
 the mountains gorgeously white with the 
 first snow of the season, which had fallen the 
 afternoon before. Peaks and peaks on every 
 side, and in front of us the Matterhorn tow 
 ering like a grand, cold goddess. It was 
 sublime." 
 
 "You have never done anything better 
 than the sketch you made then while I 
 looked over your shoulder. I expect to be 
 offered ten thousand dollars for that some 
 day, and to refuse it." 
 
180 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 " Perhaps," said Robin, with a laugh. 
 " Mr. Doddridge has been looking at my 
 things, Dick, and he has been kind enough 
 to say that they are pretty good." 
 
 " Of course they are good," Benton said, 
 as he cut some tobacco for a pipe. 
 
 " But Mr. Doddridge is a connoisseur in 
 art." 
 
 " And I know nothing about it ? Granted. 
 But I know what I like, Robin," he added, 
 defiantly, as he rammed the cavendish in, 
 " and I like your pictures. And I believe if 
 you stick to your paint-brush you will make 
 your reputation." 
 
 "And how about starving in the mean 
 while ? " 
 
 "You will not starve," said Benton, qui 
 etly. 
 
 " I have one thousand dollars a year," he 
 said, addressing me. "On one thousand a 
 year can a man dress like a gentleman, go 
 into society, and keep a yacht or a saddle- 
 horse ? " 
 
 "Pshaw!" said Benton. "Why should 
 a man who can paint like you think of 
 those things? Leave them to the common 
 clay." 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 181 
 
 " Tame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 
 (That last infirmity of noble minds) 
 To scorn delights, and live laborious days, " 
 
 I quoted. 
 
 Robin looked up at me with a gleam of 
 pleasure. " When you hear me abused, 
 then, as an unpractical visionary fellow who 
 can t earn his salt, you must stand up for 
 me." 
 
 I think I understood very well what was 
 working in Robin s mind. He was a sensi 
 tive soul, and he wished to have public opin 
 ion on his side that is, the opinion of his 
 general acquaintance, his contemporaries, 
 then chiefly bachelors. He would have 
 winced, for instance, at the patronizing ef 
 frontery of David Finn which was addressed 
 to me two or three days later as we walked 
 up the street together. Finn was another of 
 the four lodgers in our house, and a success 
 ful stock-broker, though only just thirty, and 
 an exquisite in his appearance and surround 
 ings. He w T as reputed to have made two 
 hundred thousand dollars by selling stocks 
 which he did not own, or buying stocks 
 which he had not the money to pay for I 
 forget which ; and he carried himself haugh- 
 
182 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 tily, as though his father had been a Mon 
 tague, whereas the story is that he was a 
 sea-captain who retired on the insurance- 
 money which he recovered from a company 
 whose defence was that he had set fire to his 
 own vessel. That was the story, but it may 
 never have been true. Besides, the jury gave 
 him a verdict. 
 
 " Holloa, Uncle George, old chappie ! 
 What sort is the new inmate ? One of those 
 literary fellows, isn t he ? " 
 
 " He s an artist." 
 
 " Oh yes ! More money nowadays in 
 painting signs than pictures, isn t there ? " 
 
 David Finn had a prosperous air, which 
 was rather contagious. Society newspaper 
 scavengers habitually described him as " well- 
 groomed," and he certainly looked as though 
 he had enough to eat and more than enough 
 to drink, and took fully three hundred and 
 sixty-five baths in the course of the year. 
 He was a clever whip, too, and could be seen 
 almost any afternoon on the box of a stylish 
 cart behind a neat-looking cob, as sleek and 
 well groomed as his master. In social mat 
 ters also he was prominent. He had a way 
 of twisting his mustache which took the 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 183 
 
 place of conversation, and there was no 
 denying his physical comeliness. The moth 
 ers of the marriageable girls were wondering 
 whom he would marry. 
 
 Robin s die was cast that is to say, he 
 had definitely decided not to go into the cof 
 fee business and he was hard at work in his 
 studio at the top of our house, which had 
 been adapted to the purpose by cutting a 
 hole in the roof and providing a skylight. I 
 was downtown during the day, but I made a 
 habit of dropping in on him in the evening 
 from time to time to keep track of what he 
 was doing, and every now and then he would 
 turn his canvases which stood against the 
 wall, or draw the covering from his easel to 
 let me see his work. He could not hope, he 
 said, to do enough for an exhibition by the 
 spring, but he expected by the autumn to be 
 ready for the public. Sometimes I met there 
 Hichard Benton, who had taken the remain 
 ing suite in our house, which had unexpect 
 edly become vacant ; frequently, too, David 
 Finn, who was directly opposite Eobin, and 
 who when he was at home liked an audience. 
 "When Finn was present, as may be surmised, 
 the conversation did not concern art, but 
 
184: RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 dealt with the operations of syndicates, the 
 condition of the stock market, speculations 
 as to how rich A was, and whether B had 
 made or lost money, the relative speed of 
 yachts, and the ailments and fine points of 
 horses. Robin chiefly listened to these re 
 citals in a sort of fascinated silence. There 
 was one topic, however, which they discussed 
 in common woman. 
 
 I have reference to Robin s state of mind 
 about Easter-time. It was not until then 
 that he began to take notice, so to speak, and 
 to delight to lead the conversation to their 
 social doings and let it linger there. David 
 Finn had in his every-day speech a cynical 
 style where the other sex was concerned. 
 He knew of at least ten women in society 
 not to mention names. " One of the men in 
 question told me himself, and boasted about 
 it," he would add, to clinch the credibility of 
 the matter. But though his attitude in the 
 abstract was one of suspicion, he was not 
 without his enthusiasms regarding the young 
 women of his acquaintance, and though criti 
 cal, he could be eloquent concerning individ 
 ual cases of eyes, and hair, and shoulders. 
 He and Robin and, for the matter of that, 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 185 
 
 Eichard were in the same general social 
 set, and went to much the same entertain 
 ments, and many a night David would stroll 
 into Robin s room at one o clock in the 
 morning after a ball, with a cigar, to talk it 
 over. Occasionally I would make number 
 three. David was prone to descant upon the 
 fine points of the girls he admired in much 
 the same way as he described with enthusi 
 asm the fine points of a horse. Eobin would 
 listen to him, and aid and abet him, never 
 hinting at the lateness of the hour, in the 
 hope that sooner or later the name of Ger 
 trude Delamire would be mentioned. It 
 rarely was, unless Eobin introduced it him 
 self, which he sometimes did at the fag-end 
 of the evening, in a shy yet off-hand fashion, 
 as though she were to him merely one of 
 fifty, instead of the bright particular angel of 
 his thoughts and dreams. He was sympa 
 thetic, too, in the way in which he acqui 
 esced in David s encomiums, in the hope of 
 wringing a favorable opinion from him in re 
 gard to her. But David was obdurate, if he 
 understood, or more probably simply indiffer 
 ent. When once he was brought to bay by a 
 direct question from Eobin, he answered : 
 
1SG RICHARD AND ROBIX 
 
 " Oh, yes, she is well enough. A pretty 
 little thing, but too thin for my style. 
 Compare her with Edith Harris, for in 
 stance. There s a neck and pair of shoulders 
 for you ! I like women with go, who speak 
 up." 
 
 " Yes," said Robin. The very fact of hav 
 ing breathed her name aloud had brought 
 the color to his cheeks. He was grateful 
 for being able to talk about her, even though 
 the outcome was so meagre. " Miss Dela- 
 mire looks better at some times than others," 
 he added, almost apologetically, and he 
 blushed again. 
 
 " I dare say. Oh, she s well enough," re 
 sponded Finn, carelessly. 
 
 Gertrude Delamire was just the sort of 
 girl whom a sensitive discerning man would 
 fall in love with. She was as delicate as a 
 Sevres china cup, alike in physique and 
 thought ; but she possessed the delicacy of 
 strength, not of decay. It was natural 
 enough that David Finn should accuse her 
 of not speaking up, for she was dainty in her 
 speech and bearing, and never did the woo 
 ing. I remember well how sweet she looked 
 on the afternoon when our bachelor house 
 
A.\/> 
 
 was opened for a tea that spring one of 
 Robin s happy suggestions, of which even old 
 Dodd approved. The refreshments were 
 served in Finn s room, but she lingered be 
 low to examine a second time the sketch from 
 the Gorner Grat which hung on Eichard Ben- 
 ton s wall. Robin was on the way upstairs, 
 and I heard Miss Edith Harris exclaim to 
 him, " Your rooms are too lovely for any 
 thing, Mr. Temple, and this is such fun," 
 which was the same remark she had made a 
 moment before to me. 
 
 " Isn t that delightful ? " I said, addressing 
 Miss Delamire from the doorway. She 
 seemed to start at my question, for she had 
 apparently supposed herself alone. " So full 
 of poetry and feeling," I added. 
 
 " Oh yes," she said, fervently ; only that, 
 and our eyes met ; but hers fell, and I had 
 guessed her secret. Robin Temple had won 
 her gentle heart. 
 
 During that spring David Finn and Robin 
 were much together, and were often to be 
 seen side by side on the former s cart. I 
 said to Finn once, by way of expressing 
 mildly my surprise, though I had to conceal 
 my disapprobation, " What, if you ll excuse 
 
188 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 an impudent question, is it that you and 
 llobin Temple find in common ? " 
 
 " Do you know, Uncle George," was the 
 jaunty answer, as though he were announc 
 ing a discovery, " Robin s not half a bad lot. 
 I thought at first there was a good deal of 
 the sissy about him, but that s only because 
 he s a little different from the rest of us. 
 They call it the artistic temperament, don t 
 they ? Well, all I can say is, I d give ducats 
 if I could tie a necktie as he does. On my 
 word, clothes which he has worn a year, and 
 bought ready-made to begin with, fit him 
 better than my things from Poole fit me. If 
 he d only get rid of the idea that he can 
 make his living by painting pictures, and 
 settle down to something practical, I believe 
 he d go ahead fast. I ve told him so half a 
 dozen times. He was a fool to let that part 
 nership slip. Why don t you say a word to 
 him, Dodd, on the same lay ? Somehow I 
 think he d take it better from you. Well, 
 ta-ta." 
 
 We had reached the corner where our ways 
 separated, but I reached out my hand and 
 detained him. 
 
 " See here, Finn," said I, "if you re really 
 

 SHE LINGERED BELOW TO EXAMINE THE SKETCH 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 189 
 
 a friend of Robin Temple s, you ll stop say 
 ing anything of the kind to him." 
 
 " What do you mean? " 
 
 " His art is his salvation." 
 
 "Art with a capital A?" he asked, with 
 an amused grin. 
 
 " I don t understand you," I answered, 
 coldly. " He has very unusual talent. It 
 may be some time before it is appreciated so 
 that he is able to sell his pictures to advan 
 tage, but if he perseveres he is not unlikely, 
 in my judgment, to become one of the fore 
 most artists of the world." I spoke gravely. 
 
 Finn looked at me for a moment with a 
 half-quizzical, half-scornful air. I could see 
 that he was not convinced. 
 
 " The best thing for him to do, then, is to 
 marry a rich wife, isn t it ? " he asked, with 
 an effort to treat the matter lightly. 
 
 " I am sure," I said, " that Robin Temple 
 will never marry any woman for her money, 
 even if it were suggested to him." 
 
 Finn was not an easy man to offend, and 
 my rudeness seemed merely to imply to him 
 a lack of humor on my part. He put out his 
 hand, and patting me patronizingly on the 
 shoulder, said, with a knowing laugh: "It 
 
190 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 isn t out of the bounds of possibility, is it, 
 Uncle George, that a man might be in love 
 with two women at the same time, and be 
 influenced in his final choice by the fact that 
 one had money and the other was poor as 
 a church mouse ? If he were to marry the 
 rich one, could anyone say that he was mar 
 rying her for her money ? Now think that 
 over, Uncle George, when you ve nothing to 
 do, and let me know," he added with a buoy 
 ant chuckle, and strode away. 
 
 Eobin s first exhibition was in the follow 
 ing October. He displayed twelve pictures 
 in the gallery of a prominent dealer. It was 
 on the second day that Richard burst into 
 my room bubbling over with the announce 
 ment that two had already been sold, in addi 
 tion to the one which he himself had picked 
 out to own. " The critics are with us, too," 
 he added. " There was a first-rate notice in 
 this morning s Despatch ; and Brummel, who 
 usually tries to crush the life out of begin 
 ners, happened in while I was there, and vol 
 unteered to tell me that he should give them 
 a send-off in the Mercury" 
 
 I was not able to pay my respects to the 
 exhibition until the following day. I had 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 191 
 
 seen most of the pictures in process of com 
 position, so that I had a general idea of their 
 excellence, but as I viewed them completed 
 and as a whole, I was even more pleased 
 than I had expected to be. I chose a bright 
 landscape a bit of woodland and river 
 which seemed to me thoroughly spirited. 
 On leaving the exhibition gallery one had to 
 pass into the main store, and as I dallied for 
 a moment to examine the dealer s treasures, 
 Miss Gertrude Delamire came in from the 
 street, without noticing me, I think. She 
 hesitated an instant, then made some in 
 quiries about a frame in what seemed to me 
 a timid, abashed manner. I pretended to be 
 very busy admiring the lines of one of 
 Barye s lions, and slipped out presently into 
 the street without obtruding my personality 
 on her maiden fancy. 
 
 The exhibition lasted ten days, and of the 
 twelve pictures six were sold ; three of them 
 to people unknown to Robin. Eight hun 
 dred dollars, less the dealer s commission, 
 was the net return, which seemed to our 
 young artist a prosperous beginning. He 
 informed Finn of his good fortune on the 
 evening after the exhibition closed, as they 
 
192 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 sat smoking in my room. I think Eobin 
 was a little nettled that David had not taken 
 the trouble to look in during the ten days, 
 for though he said nothing definite, there 
 was a slight tremor of reproach in the tone 
 in which he remarked, 
 
 "I took in eight hundred dollars clean 
 money, and sold half my pictures." 
 
 The idea that he had been remiss was evi 
 dently in Finn s mind too, for he said, pres 
 ently : " The market has been feverish this 
 week, and I ve been busy. I meant to have 
 a squint at them, Eobin, but somehow the 
 time passed, and I didn t get round to it." 
 
 " That s all right," replied Kobin. " You ve 
 seen most of them first or last lying about 
 my room. 1 
 
 David said nothing for a moment. An 
 idea had occurred to him, and presently he 
 gave us the benefit of it. "I suppose, Eob 
 in, you d be ready to sell the other six for 
 the same amount of money ? Well, now, I 
 tell you what : I ll match you heads or tails 
 to see whether they belong to me, or I pay 
 you another eight hundred dollars. Pictures 
 are not much in my line, barring the great 
 masters, but Uncle George here says you 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 193 
 
 may be a big bug one of these days, and if 
 so, I shall be getting in on the ground-floor. 
 Is it a gamble ? " 
 
 I could have shaken Finn, though I dare 
 say he imagined that he was making a gener 
 ous proposal. 
 
 Robin flushed at first at the careless words 
 and bantering tone, but I could see that on 
 second thought he was fascinated. He glanced 
 at me as though for my approval. 
 
 " This isn t the Stock Exchange, Finn," I 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " No ; but I ve made a square offer, which 
 I m ready to stand by." 
 
 " I ll do it," said Kobin, suddenly. 
 
 " Very well. Uncle George, will you 
 manipulate the coin? You may name it, 
 Kobin." 
 
 I drew reluctantly from my pocket the 
 necessary half-dollar, and spun it into the 
 air. Robin won. 
 
 Finn instantly took out his pocket-book. 
 " I ll draw you a check now," he said, and 
 he was proceeding to do so, when he sud 
 denly laid down the pen. " What do you 
 say, Robin, to my buying you a hundred 
 shares of Atchison with this ? It s going up. 
 13 
 
194 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 I d almost be willing to guarantee yon against 
 loss." 
 
 Kobin s eyes gleamed furtively. " I don t 
 know anything about such things. How 
 much would I make ? " 
 
 " If I put it up as a margin you ought to 
 make another thousand beside the eight hun 
 dred." 
 
 " Or lose the eight hundred," I interjected. 
 
 This must have piqued Finn, for he re 
 torted, boldly : " Come, now, I d like to see 
 you make some money. I will guarantee 
 you against loss. And you too, Uncle 
 George, if you d like to take a flier." 
 
 " Thanks no ; I never speculate," I an 
 swered. 
 
 Robin looked at us both. " I d be glad to 
 make some money, if you can make it for 
 me," he replied, eagerly. 
 
 "Enough said," said Finn. 
 
 When another autumn came round Kobin 
 had a new lot of pictures to exhibit. Again 
 the critics were highly complimentary, though 
 not so unreservedly so as on the first occa 
 sion. They asserted the critic s prerogative 
 to point out what they thought the strong 
 and weak points in his art. They evidently 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 195 
 
 regarded him no longer as a beginner, but an 
 artist of recognized standing. Seven pictures 
 out of sixteen were sold, at a slight advance 
 in price. Both to Richard Benton and to 
 me this result seemed very satisfactory ; and 
 we felt that Robin had made progress that 
 his fancy was bolder and his technique more 
 perfect. During this time his attentions to 
 Miss Delamire had become conspicuous, and 
 I knew from various enigmatic speeches 
 which he let fall from month to month that 
 he was anxious to marry her. He was, com 
 paratively speaking, in funds at this time, for 
 Finn had sent him a check for eighteen hun 
 dred dollars in less than six weeks from the 
 time of their conversation. I fancy that 
 Robin made use of much of this for flowers 
 for Miss Delamire, and in trying to keep 
 pace with her other admirers in the gay 
 world. I could see that he was restless, and 
 he became more so after David Finn s en 
 gagement to Miss Edith Harris was an 
 nounced, and that prosperous couple were 
 to be seen daily on a brand-new black and 
 yellow cart behind the well-groomed cob. 
 
 " Confound it all, Dodd," said he to me 
 one evening, " how is an artist to marry ? " 
 
196 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 " On nothing," I answered, promptly. 
 
 I felt sure that though lie had heard me 
 rail at times against improvident marriages, 
 and the cruelty of bringing children into the 
 world to struggle with well-bred poverty, he 
 would not misunderstand me. I knew that 
 the vision of Miss Edith Harris in perpetu 
 ally superb attire, with a mass of roses at 
 her waist, and mistress of a magnificent es 
 tablishment, haunted his mind s eye, and 
 would not down at the bidding. He turned 
 the conversation, and studied the fire almost 
 in silence for an hour after ; but when he 
 rose at last to leave me he pressed my hand 
 and said : 
 
 " I m going to make a new departure. I m 
 going to paint a face an ideal, not a por 
 trait. It will be the best thing I have done. 
 The old masters did Madonnas of the skies, 
 but the world of to-day is inspired by noble 
 earthly women." 
 
 Finn was married in the spring, and our 
 house knew him no more. He had built 
 himself an elaborate house in town, another 
 at the seaside, and was apparently on the 
 top of the wave. I was secretly delighted at 
 his exodus, for I felt convinced that Robin 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 197 
 
 would be able to work less interruptedly. 
 My astonishment and consternation, there 
 fore, were great when, the following autumn, 
 about the time another exhibition by Robin 
 was due, Richard Benton came into my room 
 one evening and said : 
 
 " Temple is going into business. The cof 
 fee business," he added, in response to my 
 ejaculations of dismay. " His brother has 
 given him another chance, as he calls it, and 
 he has accepted it. I have been talking 
 with him for two hours, but he is adamant. 
 He says he wishes to be married, and that 
 he must make money. I reasoned with him, 
 but it was of no use. He says he will be 
 able to paint in his leisure moments and va 
 cations. You know what that means. He 
 has fallen down and worshipped the golden 
 calf. The devil take that fellow Finn and all 
 his tribe ! " 
 
 " Amen ! " I muttered. 
 
 " He is throwing himself away. There is 
 not one man in a million with his talent, and 
 he is going into the coffee business. Pshaw ! 
 Robin, Robin, you have played us false ! " 
 
 High as my opinion was of Richard Ben- 
 ton, the fervor of his disappointment was a 
 
198 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 surprise to me. I did not insult his manly 
 intelligence by pretending to palliate the 
 rnaUer. "We turned it over in every light, 
 and I promised to see Robin on the morrow 
 and add my remonstrances to those of his 
 best friend, though I felt convinced that they 
 would be made in vain. 
 
 Eobin evidently expected me. He was 
 standing on the hearth-rug, and when he saw 
 who his visitor was, his expression indicated 
 a harassed soul at bay. He did not suggest 
 my sitting down, and when I had established 
 myself nonchalantly in an arm-chair and 
 lighted a pipe, he said, with nervous deci 
 siveness : 
 
 " I know why you have come, Uncle George. 
 But it s of no use. I ve made up my mind, 
 and nothing anyone can say will change it." 
 
 Accordingly I talked of other things, and 
 presently, with the familiarity of one accus 
 tomed to take liberties there, I strolled over 
 to his easel and lifted the covering. A face 
 looked back at me a face only half com 
 pleted, and yet already so excellent, so orig 
 inal in conception and treatment, that I 
 stepped back eagerly to scan it. A woman s 
 face. Where had I seen it? Yet the cos- 
 
A FACE LOOKED BACK AT ME 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 199 
 
 tume and surroundings indicated that it was 
 a study in fancy rather than a portrait. 
 Then I recalled our conversation of six 
 months before, and understood. But the 
 likeness ? There was no likeness, after all ; 
 but I understood, too, whose face had served 
 as an inspiration to the artist. 
 
 " Eobin," I exclaimed, earnestly, " this is 
 superb. It far surpasses anything you have 
 done before." 
 
 He smiled coldly. " Thanks. I am glad 
 you like it. I shall try to finish it some day." 
 Then he walked up to the easel and replaced 
 the covering. 
 
 I appreciated the definiteness of the hint, 
 but I could not restrain myself. 
 
 " Robin," I said, " how will the woman 
 whose soul looks from those eyes like what 
 you are doing ? " 
 
 He started as though I had struck him 
 and, indeed, it was an impertinence ; but are 
 not the wounds of friendship faithful ? and 
 the blood surged to his face. He stared at 
 me haughtily. 
 
 " I do not understand what you mean," he 
 said. " What right have you to pry into my 
 affairs?" 
 
200 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 " Only because I love you, Kobin," I said, 
 gently, and left him. 
 
 There was from this time a coolness, almost 
 a breach, between us, though we still paid 
 occasional visits to each other s rooms, and 
 preserved the outward show of amity. Robin 
 went into business, and a year and a half 
 slipped away without any apparent change in 
 his or my circumstances. He came and went 
 like any young man who is occupied down 
 town, and as our intimacy had been inter 
 rupted, he was mute in my presence as to his 
 private affairs. I understood, however, that 
 he was early and late at the office. 
 
 It was at the end of the second spring 
 after Kobin abandoned art that I went abroad, 
 in consequence of the demolition of our lodg 
 ing-house, preparatory to the erection of the 
 imposing Rexford. Like the very rats, forced 
 after a long and fond occupation to seek 
 shelter elsewhere, we fled right and left, ac 
 cording to our moods and necessities. Rich 
 ard and Eobin sought a haven in one of the 
 other bachelor warrens in the same neighbor 
 hood, and I stored my penates, packed my 
 portmanteau, and took the first steamer to 
 Europe. There I remained two years a lit- 
 
RICHARD ANJ) ROBIN 201 
 
 tie longer, in fact, for I did not return until 
 the snow was on the ground, and the plaster 
 of the Rexford was thoroughly dry, and its 
 modern improvements in complete working 
 order. I had arranged to have my penates 
 re-established in my new quarters, so that I 
 might walk in on a furnished apartment al 
 most as though I had not been away. I ar 
 rived late in the evening, to find a fire on the 
 hearth, a bit of supper on the table, and the 
 evening Mercury at my elbow. Being fresh 
 from the steamer, I was in arrears regarding 
 events, and after my appetite was satisfied I 
 was soon deep in local news. I turned first 
 to the financial page to ascertain the stand 
 ing of my few securities. Somehow it com 
 forts or depresses a man, as the case may be, 
 to know that the stock he owns is five points 
 higher or lower, though he has not the least 
 idea of selling it in either event. Specula 
 tion was running riot, it seemed to me, and 
 the rumors of the day prophesied that the 
 advance had only just begun. Having ascer 
 tained that I was considerably richer on paper, 
 I turned to the marriages and deaths, and as 
 I read, I stopped to read again, struck with 
 horror : 
 
202 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 " In this city, on December the 6th, Rob 
 ert Temple, in the thirtieth year of his age. 
 Funeral at St. Mark s Church, on Tuesday, 
 December 10th, at one o clock." 
 
 Robin Temple dead, and his funeral to 
 morrow ! I pressed the electric button, and 
 the new janitor, who had served my supper, 
 appeared. " I see the announcement of Mr. 
 Robert Temple s death ? " I said, interroga 
 tively. 
 
 " Yes, sir. He died day before yesterday, 
 of pneumonia, and he s to be buried to-mor 
 row. He had rooms here, sir." 
 
 I had not known, though I had supposed 
 it might be so. " Here, in this apartment- 
 house ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. I thought of speaking about 
 it, but I wasn t sure you knew him, and I 
 wouldn t mention it until you d had your 
 supper." 
 
 " Thank you, Perkins," I said, to acknowl 
 edge consideration so unusual. " Yes, I 
 knew him well. Of pneumonia ? " 
 
 " He was taken ill a week ago Sunday, sir ; 
 and there were three doctors at the last, and 
 Mr. Benton, besides the nurse, was with him 
 night and day," added Perkins, witli the flu- 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 203 
 
 ency of one who feels that he is free at last 
 to tell all he knows. 
 
 " Mr. Kichard Benton ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. He came in just before you 
 rang. He s grieving sadly, sir." 
 
 " Please go and tell Mr. Benton that I am 
 coming down to see him." 
 
 Five minutes later I stood with Kichard 
 beside the open coffin and looked at our 
 friend as he lay in the sleep of death. The 
 fell disease had left few traces, and even 
 the unconquerable enemy had laid only the 
 seal of marble-like pallor upon the likeness 
 of our Kobin. The poet -like eyes were 
 closed, but the dainty features, the delicate 
 contour of brow and lip and chin, were still 
 the same. He was there, yet he was gone 
 gone to the land of mystery, from which none 
 return to tell of the mercies of God s judg 
 ment-seat. 
 
 As I looked around me presently, when I 
 had turned away from the coffin, I noticed 
 that the new rooms, into which he had moved 
 only two months before, were exquisitely fur 
 nished ; but there was only a single sugges 
 tion of the artist s craft an easel in one cor 
 ner, over which an Eastern cloth had been 
 
204 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 thrown. Somehow I divined what was be 
 neath, and, impelled by the desire to ascer 
 tain, I crossed the room and raised the cov 
 ering. The same face, fixed by a master s 
 hand, yet unfinished and unaltered, looked 
 out at me from the canvas. Apparently he 
 had never touched it with his brush since 
 our interview two years before. 
 
 I heard from Richard s lips that night all 
 that he knew. " He worked like a slave, 
 Dodd ; down early and up late. About a 
 year ago his brother died, and the other part 
 ner was called to California by the illness 
 of his wife, and Robin s opportunity, as he 
 thought, had come. The coffee market was 
 depressed, unduly so, and he bought, and 
 bought again, borrowing heavily. He was 
 right. In ninety days the tide had turned, 
 and he had made over two hundred thousand 
 dollars. He told me this four months ago, 
 and he has died rich, for so young a man. 
 He seemed exultantly happy, and his man 
 ner of living changed at once. He bought 
 a stylish turn-out, and he fitted up these 
 rooms ; though he said to me, poor fellow, 
 with a knowing smile, the day he moved into 
 them, I may not need them very long. Ten 
 
RICHARD AND RODIN 205 
 
 days ago I was sitting in my room late. It 
 was a brutal night cold, with a piercing 
 wind, and the streets a glare of frozen sleet. 
 I had been beguiled into sitting up it was 
 nearly two by a new book, which I had 
 just finished, when there came a knock at the 
 door, and Kobin staggered in ; it was just 
 that staggered. He was pale and distract 
 ed-looking. His overcoat not a heavy one 
 was unbuttoned, and his evening dress 
 awry, as though blown by the wind. He 
 sank into a chair and covered his face with 
 his hands. * My God, Eobin, what is the 
 matter ? I asked. He looked up at me with 
 an expression of agony I shall never forget, 
 and answered, in a piteous voice, She has 
 refused me, Kichard, and my heart is broken. 
 It seems he had been walking the streets in 
 that guise for hours. I watched over him 
 that night. He was ill already, and the next 
 morning he was in a high fever. We did all 
 we could, but he died day before yesterday." 
 The following afternoon we laid Robin s 
 body in the grave. It was a brilliant win 
 ter s day. The landscape revealed, even to 
 the common eye, the subtle hues which ar 
 tists love. Richard and I drove back from 
 
206 RICHARD AND RODIN 
 
 the cemetery together. He had been silent 
 for a time, but as* we were nearing home he 
 suddenly said : " How little money can avail, 
 after all ! I am worth to-day half a million 
 dollars, Dodd. How gladly would I give 
 Eobin the half of it which is what he will 
 leave behind him if one could wipe out the 
 last five years, and put him back at his easel 
 just as he once was ! But that is all over 
 and past forever." 
 
 It was not quite so. As I have stated, 
 those were days of rampant speculation. But, 
 as is apt to be the case, the crash came sud 
 denly and without apparent warning. Many 
 went to the wall, and rumor, \vhich had 
 whispered a month ago that the advance had 
 only just begun, now prophesied that there 
 would be worse failures after the first of the 
 year. It was on Christmas-eve, I remember, 
 that I went down to Richard Benton s room 
 and found David Finn there. My visit was 
 purely a casual one. Perhaps the cockles of 
 my heart were oppressed with the sense of 
 loneliness which an old bachelor is apt to ex 
 perience at this season. As I entered I per 
 ceived from their faces that I had interrupted 
 the discussion of some serious matter, and 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 207 
 
 was closing the door, when I was restrained 
 by Richard s voice saying, " Come back, 
 Dodd ; you shall be the judge." 
 
 I turned back in response to this sum 
 mons, wondering, and Richard waved me to 
 a seat. Finn was standing, with his back to 
 the fireplace. I noticed, in the few moments 
 of silence which followed, that he looked 
 worried, though his old air of confidence had 
 not forsaken him. 
 
 " Dodd," said Richard again, " you shall 
 be the judge between us." Then he ad 
 dressed Finn : " You have come to me to 
 night and told me that you are in trouble. 
 You have asked me, as a director of the bank 
 where your largest loans are placed, to con 
 sent to their renewal, and I have told you 
 that I cannot. My duty as an officer forbids 
 that ; we cannot take the risk. I told you 
 this, and you have just asked me to help you 
 as an individual. I might do so if I chose. 
 I have some means, and I could tide you 
 over ; and coming as you do at this Christ 
 mas-time, I would tide you over but for one 
 thing, and Uncle George here shall decide if 
 I am not right. If he says that I am unjust, 
 my credit shall be at your disposal." 
 
208 RICHARD AND ROBIN 
 
 For an instant he paused, and I could see 
 that Finn was groping for the reason. He 
 had no inkling of it, though I felt sure that 
 I knew. 
 
 " But for you and men like you, my friend 
 Eobin Temple would not be in his grave. 
 You and your example fascinated him until 
 he prostituted the noble gift which God had 
 given him. Day in, day out, he heard you 
 sneer at everything which did not stand for 
 money and the coarse or showy gratifications 
 which mere money can purchase. He learned 
 from you to sacrifice everything for that, and 
 awoke at last to know the agony and bitter 
 ness of his delusion. It killed him. He 
 was my dearest friend. You have asked me 
 to help you. My answer is, I refuse you in 
 the name of Eobin Temple. Let Dodd, who 
 knows the truth, judge between us." 
 
 In spite of the death-blow which these 
 words gave to Finn s hopes, and though he 
 winced a little, a smile curved his lip, recall 
 ing vividly his look on the day when he had 
 queried, in answer to my declaration that 
 Eobin s art was his salvation, " Art with a 
 capital A ? " The same flippant, cruel smile, 
 as though the speech had amused him by its 
 
RICHARD AND ROBIN 209 
 
 somewhat dramatic intensity. Then, as I 
 looked at him, there came into my mind the 
 words of the Psalmist " The fool hath said 
 in his heart, There is no God." 
 
 " Finn," I said, " my judgment is that 
 Kichard is right." 
 
 " Oh, very well. This is absurd," said 
 Finn. " I am no more responsible for the 
 death of Robin Temple than either one of 
 you." There was a brief silence, during which 
 he made his preparations for departure. " It 
 strikes me," he added, bitterly, as he but 
 toned his overcoat, " that you have scarcely 
 looked at this matter in a business-like man 
 ner." 
 
 " No," said Richard, quietly. " It is pure 
 ly a matter of sentiment." 
 
 Ten days later just after the 1st of Janu 
 ary the suspension of David Finn & Com 
 pany, bankers and brokers, was announced 
 in the newspapers in startling head-lines, 
 and before another eighteen months had 
 passed I acted as best man to Richard Ben- 
 ton on the occasion of his marriage to Ger 
 trude Delamire. 
 
 14 
 
THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 
 
THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 
 
 THE Matrimonial Tontine Mutual Bene 
 fit Association of New York was re 
 duced to two members. These were Benja 
 min Davis, note broker, and Horace Wilson, 
 landscape gardener. The rest were married 
 or buried. That is to say, one member, poor 
 Thomas Cook, was under the sod, and the 
 other twelve were Benedicks in good stand 
 ing. There had not been even a divorce, 
 though divorce was not a contingency pro 
 vided for in the constitution. 
 
 The Association was twelve years old, and 
 owed its existence to a random remark made 
 by Harry Stephenson at a dinner at the 
 club. 
 
 " I wonder," said he, " which of us fellows 
 will marry first." 
 
 " Or last," said Ben Davis. 
 
 " Or not at all," said Horace Wilson. 
 
214 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 There was some lively banter on the sub 
 ject, chiefly to the effect that marriage as an 
 institution was decaying, and that no one but 
 a Croesus could afford to take a wife, and 
 presently George Edmunds, who had been 
 smoking reflectively, drew general attention 
 to himself by rapping on the table. 
 
 " I have a scheme to propose," he said. 
 
 George Edmunds was known to have a 
 nimble fancy and to be a practical individual 
 into the bargain. He was a writer of fic 
 tion, but he had invented in his spare 
 moments a patent corkscrew and a patent 
 potato-peeler which brought him in a round 
 sum annually. Consequently any scheme of 
 his suggestion was sure to be listened to re 
 spectfully. 
 
 " There are fifteen of us here to-night," he 
 continued, " and there can t be a difference of 
 two years between the eldest and the young 
 est. Why shouldn t we form a Bachelors 
 Protective Union ? " 
 
 He paused and looked round the room in 
 quiringly. Several smiled as though the 
 idea pleased them ; but evidently no one 
 knew exactly what George meant ; and by 
 way of inviting elucidation, Ben Davis, who 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 215 
 
 probably had the potato-peeler in mind, 
 asked : 
 
 " Where s the chance for making an honest 
 dollar this time ? " 
 
 " I ll show you," replied George. " Fif 
 teen members at an annual assessment of 
 twenty-five dollars apiece will insure a din 
 ner on the first of every January for the 
 party, and leave a neat little annual sum to be 
 invested by the treasurer. The last man who 
 holds out against the enemy takes the pool. 
 If the fund is skilfully handled, and we hold 
 out as rigorously as we talk, he ought to 
 carry off a tidy sum." 
 
 There was a murmur of approval and 
 amusement. 
 
 " It s a pious plan," exclaimed Stephenson. 
 " Let s put it through." 
 
 " We will," said several others. 
 
 " But suppose there never should be a last 
 man? There might be several, you know, 
 who would hold out to the end," said Ben 
 Davis. " There should be a time limit when 
 the survivors divide." 
 
 This seemed sensible, and it was subse 
 quently agreed that at the end of twenty years 
 the pool should be apportioned in case there 
 
216 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 should be more than a single bachelor re 
 maining. 
 
 Before midnight on that very evening the 
 articles of association were drawn up by the 
 flowing pen of George Edmunds, and read to 
 the assembled company. There was a pre 
 amble with a formidable Whereas. " Where 
 as we, the undersigned bachelors, have this 
 day entered into a solemn compact for the 
 mutual protection of our liberties against the 
 institution of marriage, etc., etc." Then fol 
 lowed a solemn bond wherein The Matrimo 
 nial Tontine Mutual Benefit Association of 
 New York bound itself, in consideration of 
 certain covenants and agreements of each 
 subscriber, to furnish a dinner of reasonable 
 richness as to food, and abundance as to drink, 
 on the first day of each and every year, and 
 to pay over to the individual or individuals 
 who should be most faithful to the purposes 
 of the Association the total net capital ac 
 cumulated from the time of the first payment 
 down to the date of the final settlement. 
 
 Everybody signed that night, and there 
 was much flamboyant protestation on the sub 
 ject of matrimony. To judge merely from 
 the expressed views of the subscribers, it 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 217 
 
 seemed probable that the pool would be di 
 vided among the fifteen members at the end 
 of the twenty years. The average age of the 
 subscribers was twenty-five. No one was 
 over twenty-six or under twenty-four. Con 
 sequently the limit of twenty years appeared 
 to be a reasonable one. Surely a bachelor 
 of forty-five ought to be able to take care of 
 himself, and do without the protection of a 
 Bachelors Union. 
 
 The subscribers, having duly affixed their 
 signatures to the articles of association, 
 elected, as seemed fitting, George Edmunds 
 president, secretary, and treasurer. It would 
 be his duty to call the members together on 
 the occasion of the annual dinner, to note 
 and report failures to pay the annual dues or 
 fallings from grace into matrimony, to exer 
 cise general supervision over the affairs of 
 the Association, and particular supervision 
 over the net fund. He was given, by the oral 
 instructions of the members, plenary and yet 
 peculiar and sleep-haunting powers as to the 
 management of this fund. No gilt-edged 
 conventional investment returning regular, 
 modest interest would satisfy the winner of 
 the pool. The treasurer would be expected 
 
218 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 to hit upon something extraordinary in its 
 dividend-yielding character. If not another 
 potato-peeler, something equally bonanza- 
 like and gratifying. And yet no risks must 
 be run which would hazard the integrity of 
 the principal. Something safe yet uncon 
 ventional, perfectly secure but splendidly 
 lucrative, would be expected from him. 
 George would understand what they meant 
 and act accordingly, and doubtless the event 
 ual winner of the pool would have every rea 
 son to approve of their selection of a treasurer. 
 Whether it be that much of the talk this 
 evening was on the surface and merely for 
 effect or bravado, or whether it be that the 
 masculine heart may contain matrimonial 
 germs without being conscious of them, no 
 less than four of the fifteen subscribers ceased 
 to be members of the Association after pay 
 ing but two annual assessments that is to 
 say, they became engaged in the course of 
 the second year. A summer girl at Narra- 
 gansett Pier caused the first break, which 
 was the occasion of an extra dinner and much 
 oratory as to the necessity of caution and 
 steadfastness. Within the three ensuing 
 months, thereby suggesting that the deserters 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 219 
 
 probably had matrimony in their minds at 
 the time these speeches of exhortation were 
 being made, a second, third, and fourth fell 
 victims to a widow with two children, a 
 flaxen-haired doll, and a strong-minded bru 
 nette, respectively. So the women in ques 
 tion were stigmatized by the remaining mem 
 bers, who closed up their serried ranks and 
 looked askance at one another. Who would 
 be the next to fall? Who, indeed! But 
 there was always the consolation that the in 
 dividual chances of the survivors to win the 
 pool had been materially enhanced. As for 
 the pool itself, the treasurer had already 
 doubled it by a happy purchase of some 
 shares in a gold mine. 
 
 During the next two years there was no 
 lapse from grace, and simply the death of 
 Tom Cook to chronicle. Then, without 
 warning, Harry Stephenson came a fearful 
 cropper, as they say in the hunting-field. 
 He fell over head and ears in love with a 
 very plain girl in Harlem, without a penny 
 to her name, and married her. This made a 
 frightful gap, for Harry had been one of the 
 most inspiring and virulent bachelors of the 
 Association. What was more, his defection 
 
220 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 seemed to knock the moral fortitude out of 
 William Hardy, so that when the fifth annu 
 al dinner came round, only eight members 
 clinked their glasses and drank a standing 
 toast to the joys and blessings of single life. 
 On the following day, one of the eight an 
 nounced his engagement to a chit of eigh 
 teen. This bit of perfidy elicited from the 
 survivors a special vote of censure which 
 accompanied the box of flowers sent by them 
 to the victimizer of their late associate. The 
 only cheering bit of intelligence was, that 
 the treasurer had again done his duty. He 
 had sold the shares of the gold mine at a 
 magnificent figure, and put them into the 
 stock of the Oleo Refrigerator Company, 
 which had immediately declared a cash divi 
 dend of fifty per cent. 
 
 After this there was another lull of two 
 years and a half. Then, at intervals of about 
 six months apart, three more fell from grace, 
 leaving only George Edmunds, Benjamin 
 Davis, Horace Wilson, and Roger Partridge 
 to dine together on the occasion of the tenth 
 annual dinner. Partridge, who was bald- 
 headed and looked like a confirmed old bach 
 elor of the first water, was nevertheless so 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 221 
 
 melancholy and absent-minded that the 
 president, secretary, and treasurer called him 
 to order and directed the eyes of the Associ- 
 tion upon him so sharply that the poor fel 
 low blushed to where roots of his hair had 
 been. 
 
 " You had better confess and make a clean 
 breast of it," said Ben Davis. 
 
 " I ve nothing to confess," answered Part 
 ridge, stoutly. But he looked exceedingly 
 doleful, and of a sudden he collapsed and 
 blurted out, " I offered myself to a woman 
 yesterday and she threw me over. If that s 
 a reason for resigning, I ll resign. I wish 
 somebody would blow my brains out." 
 Thereupon he buried his head in his hands. 
 
 There was a short silence, and the other 
 three exchanged sardonic glances. 
 
 " Does the constitution cover the case ? " 
 asked Ben Davis. 
 
 " No. The repentant sinner is received 
 back with open arms," said Edmunds. 
 " Cheer up, Roger. You ve run a frightful 
 risk, but you still have a grip on the pool, 
 dear boy. Only don t ask her again." 
 
 " She wouldn t have me if I did," groaned 
 the culprit. 
 
222 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 " Oh, yes, she would." 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " eagerly 
 asked the bald-headed bachelor. 
 
 " Because in nine cases out of ten they 
 do." 
 
 " Then you think I d have a chance ? " 
 
 " What s her age, old fellow, if she ll ex 
 cuse the question ? " 
 
 "Twenty-nine next August." 
 
 " It s nearly a dead certainty," exclaimed 
 Edmunds and Davis, in the same breath. 
 
 " My opinion is that if you don t ask her, 
 she ll ask you," said Horace Wilson. 
 
 This was a little brutal. Horace, who 
 really had a tender heart, felt it to be so. 
 He put his hand gently on Roger s shoulder. 
 
 "I say," he exclaimed a moment later, 
 " this thing has gone far enough. Fate is 
 against the Association. I vote that we dis 
 band." 
 
 " Disband ! " cried Davis. " That is a 
 monstrous idea. What do you mean ? " 
 
 On the other hand, Edmunds made no such 
 demonstration of protest. Indeed, a careful 
 observer would have noticed that a flicker of 
 satisfaction passed across his countenance. 
 But all he said was he said it, though, a 
 

BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 223 
 
 little nervously " We four should get about 
 fifteen hundred apiece. The fund figures a 
 trifle more than six thousand on my books 
 to-day." 
 
 " Money or no money," said Horace, 
 " we ve carried it far enough. We have vin 
 dicated our principles ; we are each of us 
 thirty-five, and now it seems to me that any 
 one of us ought to be allowed to marry with 
 out loss of self-respect." 
 
 " There is certainly something in what you 
 say," said Edmunds, with an appearance of 
 dispassionate candor. 
 
 Davis gazed from one to the other in min 
 gled astonishment and indignation. " I nev 
 er heard such a thing," he exclaimed. " Dis 
 band just when we re reaching the crucial 
 point ! It s the brassiest proposition I ever 
 listened to. Even Roger, here, who would 
 get his fifteen hundred by it, looks as though 
 he thought it the most extraordinary idea 
 that was ever broached. I see through it, 
 though," he continued, defiantly. " It s a 
 conspiracy. You two are either engaged or 
 in love, and have put your heads together to 
 play me for an imbecile. But it won t work. 
 The Association can t disband without a 
 
224 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 unanimous vote, and mine is not to be had 
 for love or money. Come now, George Ed 
 munds and Horace Wilson, admit that you re 
 in love and that this is a game. You can t 
 look me straight in the eyes, George. By 
 Jove, you re the most conscious-looking con 
 spirator who was ever brought to bay." 
 
 Undeniably, Edmunds, from the moment 
 this accusation was uttered, had worn a flur 
 ried air, and now, when Davis seized him by 
 the arms and tried to look into his eyes, he 
 winced and avoided the searching, scornful 
 scrutiny, and turned pink and white. Even 
 his would-be nonchalant words of protest did 
 not clinch the matter, as his accuser was quick 
 to discover. 
 
 "Engaged? Nonsense. I never asked a 
 woman to marry me in my life." 
 
 " But you re in love. Deny it if you can." 
 
 " I deny your right " began George. " Er 
 besides it s not true." 
 
 " I knew it," cried Ben, triumphantly, and, 
 letting Edmunds loose, he bent his gaze on 
 Horace Wilson. " And here s another in the 
 same fix." 
 
 This time there was no wincing or shrink 
 ing. The scornful, piercing eyes encountered 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 225 
 
 a cool, steady return, and there was the res 
 onance of convincing truth in the sturdy re- 
 
 Pty: 
 
 "Ben Davis, unless we disband to-night, 
 
 you, barring my death, will never touch one 
 dollar of that six thousand until the end of 
 the twenty years, and then you will have to 
 divide it with me. Conspiracy ? There isn t 
 a woman in this world whom I would cross 
 the street to speak to a second time. And 
 more s the pity, too. What I said about dis 
 banding came from my heart. Heaven knows 
 I d like to fall in love, but I can t. I ve tried, 
 but it s no use. If there ever was a firm-set 
 old bachelor, I m the man ; and since you de 
 cline to disband, I warn you to look out, for 
 I intend to take the pool." 
 
 Thereupon Horace folded his arms and 
 smiled with the assurance of a man who has 
 been many times under fire and still is heart- 
 whole. 
 
 You will remember that this occurred at 
 the tenth annual dinner. Before the eleventh 
 Roger Partridge offered himself again and 
 was accepted. The remaining three dined 
 together on the first of January, and clinked 
 their glasses once more to perpetual bachelor- 
 15 
 
226 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 hood. Although George Edmunds made no 
 formal announcement, his undisguised atten 
 tions to Miss Virginia Tebbetts, and her ap 
 parent preference for him, left little room to 
 doubt that his membership in the Association 
 hung by the gills, so to speak, and that the 
 contest was to be limited to the other two. 
 Indeed, Ben Davis felt that the president, 
 secretary, and treasurer was so completely 
 out of the race that he saw fit, in the spirit 
 of prudence which was an attribute of his, to 
 throw out a hint or two as to the advisability 
 of conservatism in regard to the investment 
 of the pool. The treasurer had again made 
 a notable financial stroke by selling out the 
 stock of the " Oleo Refrigerator Company " 
 at the top of the market, and buying the 
 shares of the " Plimsoll Aeronautic Concern " 
 at a bed-rock price. 
 
 " Don t you think it might be well to salt 
 down what we have into a first-rate real- estate 
 mortgage ? " inquired Ben. 
 
 George Edmunds flushed. He was not 
 prone to take offence, but he prided himself 
 on his acumen as an investor, and this remark 
 seemed to him to savor of rank ingratitude 
 and to be entirely uncalled for. 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 227 
 
 " Haven t I done sufficiently well for 
 you ? " he replied. 
 
 "You have done wonders made three 
 ten-strokes ; but but I think you will admit 
 that there was a certain element of risk in 
 each one of the er investments." 
 
 " They succeeded," said George, coldly. 
 
 " Besides, the treasurer was directed to be 
 brilliant," interjected Horace. " There is no 
 scope for brilliancy in a first-rate real-estate 
 mortgage." 
 
 " That was at first, when we had a mere 
 pittance in the treasury. We have ten thou 
 sand dollars now. Ten thousand dollars 
 does not grow on every bush, but it may be 
 lost in a twinkling. What if the flying-ma 
 chine does not work? Where will our money 
 be?" 
 
 Undoubtedly George Edmunds laid up this 
 criticism against Ben so far as a kind-hearted 
 and malice-hating fellow could lay up any 
 thing against anybody. This, too, in spite 
 of the fact that the stock of the "Plimsoll 
 Aeronautic Concern " rose rapidly during the 
 next four months, demonstrating clearly 
 thereby the superior sagacity of the treas 
 urer of the Matrimonial Tontine Mutual 
 
228 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 Benefit Association. At a special meeting 
 of the members, held on the first day of May, 
 this self-same treasurer announced, with the 
 apologetic reprehension of self which the fall 
 of the chief and sole official of the Associa 
 tion seemed to demand, his engagement to 
 Miss Virginia Tebbetts. 
 
 "I have called a special meeting," he con 
 tinued, " for the reason that, as I have ceased 
 to be a member, a new custodian of the as 
 sets of the Association should be elected 
 forthwith. The only present asset is this 
 certificate for one thousand shares of the 
 stock of the Plimsoll Aeronautic Concern, 
 which I take pleasure in informing you could 
 be sold to-day for twelve thousand five hun 
 dred dollars." 
 
 Thereupon, with a glance of legitimate tri 
 umph at Ben Davis, he laid the valuable 
 piece of parchment on the table, together 
 with the records of the Association, and 
 presently left the two survivors to their own 
 devices. 
 
 On the following morning, before a single 
 quotation was uttered in Wall Street, Ben 
 Davis entered a broker s office with the piece 
 of parchment in question, duly endorsed by 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 229 
 
 him as president, secretary, and treasurer of 
 the Association. 
 
 " Sell this at the market," he said, care 
 lessly. But though he looked cool as a cu 
 cumber, there was fever in his soul, and he 
 hung about the office until the operation was 
 completed. The stock was sold for $12,500, 
 and the following week it fell $5 a share in 
 as many minutes, and within a fortnight the 
 certificates were worth merely what old pa 
 per is worth. But long before that dismal 
 day the funds of the Matrimonial Tontine 
 Mutual Benefit Association were safely in 
 vested in a gilt-edged mortgage on improved 
 real estate. 
 
 And so, as was stated in the first place, 
 the Association was reduced to two members, 
 a condition of affairs which had existed now 
 for three calendar years. The fourteenth an 
 nual dinner had recently been eaten, and Ben 
 Davis and Horace Wilson had clinked glasses 
 to the joys of single life with the same gusto, 
 so far as either could discern by close scru 
 tiny of the other, displayed by them on the 
 very first occasion. Beyond the fact that 
 George Edmunds had been married and was 
 the father of a boy baby, and the funds of 
 
230 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 the Association were yielding a safe but 
 modest four and one-half per cent., matters 
 seemed just the same. But they were not. 
 
 One winter s evening, about six weeks sub 
 sequent to the fourteenth annual dinner, Ben 
 Davis sat before the fire in his comfortable 
 bachelor rooms, with a pensive expression of 
 countenance. Time had dealt kindly with 
 Ben. He had some hair left, a moderately 
 youthful face and figure, and a prosperous 
 business. People and corporations who 
 were pressed for money came to him to re 
 lieve their necessities, and he was very apt 
 to be able to relieve them. When he did so, 
 he retained a small slice ; such is the way of 
 the world ; and it does not take a very great 
 many slices to make a respectable family 
 loaf. But Ben had no family. He kept a 
 cob, and he went to Europe for six weeks in 
 summer, provided the money market was not 
 too tight. In the event of financial strin 
 gency he ran down to Bar Harbor for a fort 
 night or so. Money had been at a premium 
 the previous summer, and he had been able 
 to get away only for ten days, and to get 
 only as far as Narragansett Pier. But those 
 ten days had been detrimental to his peace 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 231 
 
 of mind ever since. He had seen her in the 
 water the first time, and he could not forget 
 her. 
 
 She did not live in New York ; but such 
 are the opportunities of a note broker that 
 one can run over to Philadelphia on business 
 without seeming to go out of one s way to 
 call on a girl. Ben had made the trip five 
 times since the first of October, and it was 
 not yet March, and he had fairly come to the 
 conclusion that single life was a failure. 
 What he was saying to himself this evening 
 was that on Easter he would send her a lily, 
 and go over the following week and ask her 
 to become his. In the event that she ac 
 cepted him, Horace Wilson, of course, would 
 get the money. This was not exactly a pleas 
 ant thought for Ben ; but so far as he could 
 see, there would be no escape from it. Some 
 how he had come to regard the pool as his, 
 and the idea of losing it entirely was galling. 
 Not that he needed the money ; for he was 
 doing remarkably well. Indeed, the sum 
 would make a much greater difference to 
 Horace Wilson than to him, for Horace, 
 though described in common parlance as a 
 rising landscape gardener, had only half his 
 
THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 income. It would certainly be unpleasant, 
 though, to be obliged to take the little trunk 
 out from the safe and hand it over to Horace. 
 The gilt-edged mortgage on improved real 
 estate seemed to him to belong just where it 
 was, and the prospect of parting with it was 
 very distasteful to him. Was there no means 
 by which he could win her and the pool both ? 
 
 None presented itself that evening, but on 
 the following morning, which was Sunday, he 
 stumbled upon something just a little prom 
 ising. Up to this time during the last five 
 years he had never seen Horace "Wilson in 
 the society of any woman. Though the city 
 was large, to be sure, and they did not meet 
 altogether the same people, Ben flattered 
 himself that he kept a pretty close eye on 
 Horace. And yet the painful consciousness 
 was his that never had he run across his rival 
 in what might be called a compromising situ 
 ation. Had he detected him even at a thea 
 tre-party, he would have felt encouraged, but 
 though he had often beheld Horace comforta 
 bly ensconced in an orchestra stall, there had 
 never been a female companion beside him. 
 
 On this Sunday morning, however, as Ben 
 was taking an airing, chance led him along 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 233 
 
 the particular cross street in which George 
 Edmunds had established his household 
 gods. The churches were just out, and 
 though it was a cross street, there was a 
 sprinkling of people on either sidewalk. Ben 
 was thinking of her, and consequently did 
 not pay his customary heed to the passers. 
 There was only one woman in the world for 
 him, and as for the men, they interested him 
 not at all, provided the single ones stayed 
 away from Philadelphia. There was just 
 one man he would except from the general 
 scope of his indifference, and he was Horace 
 Wilson. Why the dickens didn t that fellow 
 get married ? It was high time. Happening 
 to look across the street as this thought for 
 mulated itself in his mind, his heart gave a 
 jump. In the vestibule of George Edmunds s 
 house stood four people, who were on the point 
 of entering. Indeed, before he had fully com 
 prehended the situation, they had gone in and 
 shut the door. But in three of them Ben had 
 recognized George and his wife and Horace 
 Wilson. As to the fourth, who had been 
 slightly in advance of the others, and conse 
 quently partially concealed, he had detected 
 by the feathers on her bonnet that she was a 
 
234 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 woman, and a passably young woman at that. 
 Ben, being a note broker, was quick at com 
 putation. He instantly put two and two to 
 gether and said to himself that Horace had 
 been escorting the unknown in question home 
 from church. A ray of hope lit up his late 
 gloomy reflections regarding the gilt-edged 
 mortgage. If Horace were to become en 
 gaged before he did, the pool would be his. 
 After glancing up at the house opposite in 
 the hope of detecting the mysterious stranger 
 at the window, he went on his way with a 
 more elastic step. If he won the pool, could 
 he not afford to give the one woman in the 
 world the superb diamonds which he had ex 
 amined at a jeweller s the week before ? He 
 would be cautious and delay a little, and 
 await developments. 
 
 On the very next evening Ben happened to 
 run across George Edmunds at the club, and 
 immediately asked him the question upper 
 most in his mind : " Who was the lady 
 walking home with you from church yester 
 day?" 
 
 The inquiry was made in the most inno 
 cent, off-hand manner, but obviously George 
 was prepared for it. Be it for the reason 
 
HORACE HAD BEEN ESCORTING THE UNKNOWN IN QUESTION 
 HOME FROM CHURCH 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 235 
 
 that he had never forgiven Ben for charging 
 him with being in love before he knew it 
 himself, or for impugning his financial judg 
 ment, George had taken sides. He was par 
 ticularly desirous, that Horace Wilson should 
 win the pool, and consequently was on his 
 guard. 
 
 He answered, diplomatically, " My wife s 
 mother is staying with us for a few days." 
 
 " I congratulate you, George. It wasn t 
 your wife s mother with you yesterday, how 
 ever. The lady Horace Wilson escorted to 
 your house was no one s mother. Is he at 
 tentive to her ? " 
 
 "Spying, eh?" said George. "No, he 
 isn t." 
 
 "What s her name?" 
 
 George hesitated. He was on the point of 
 telling and then, for no particular reason, 
 thought better of it. 
 
 " It will never be Wilson," he replied. 
 
 George Edmunds returned to the bosom 
 of his family that night in an anxious frame 
 of mind. He and his wife, the late Virginia 
 Tebbetts, were already at war in regard to 
 the relations between Horace Wilson and 
 their guest, Miss Florence Delaney, and his 
 
236 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE. 
 
 interview with Ben Davis had made him 
 still more solicitous that his better half 
 should do nothing further to promote the 
 affair. 
 
 " It will be the same as robbing Horace of 
 a good thirteen thousand dollars," said he to 
 his spouse. " You should have seen the tri 
 umphant, avaricious gleam in Ben s eyes 
 when he told me that he had detected him. 
 Just leave the man alone, Virginia. Pro 
 vided you let him go his own gait, I feel sure 
 that his natural antipathy to your sex will 
 lead him out of temptation. But if you keep 
 egging him on, the next thing we shall hear 
 is that he is engaged." 
 
 " I devoutly hope so, dear. I have made 
 the discovery that Horace Wilson is one of 
 those men whose matrimonial sweetness has 
 been wasted on the desert air of a club long 
 enough. He is peculiarly adapted to be a 
 husband and father, but the girls in the 
 world who would suit him are abnormally 
 scarce. Dear Florence happens to be one of 
 them. He may never meet another ; and so 
 the sooner they are engaged the better." 
 
 " Then let him find it out for himself. 
 Don t prod him into it." 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 237 
 
 " No, clear ; a bachelor of his age needs to 
 be prodded now and then in order to realize 
 what is best for him. So great is the sexual 
 shyness which a wicked association such as 
 yours engenders, that a woman has to give 
 very clear signs that she is pleased, or the 
 man will run back into his lair again and 
 fancy himself jilted. Don t you remember 
 how I had virtually to offer myself to you 
 before you came to the point ? " 
 
 " But no third person dragged me up to 
 the halter." 
 
 "No; because you see, George, I really 
 liked you almost as much as you did me. 
 But the trouble here is that Florence doesn t 
 know her own mind. It seems there s an 
 other." 
 
 " Thank goodness." 
 
 " Ah, George, don t talk like that. Poor 
 Horace is just crazy about her. He thinks 
 of nothing else. And he needs encourage 
 ment so badly. Only this afternoon he said 
 to me, I m afraid it s no use. I ll give it 
 up and go in for the pool. She doesn t care 
 for me more than for the button on one of 
 her boots. Oh, it was pitiful, George ! " 
 
 " Who is this another?" 
 
238 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 " That s the difficulty. I don t even know 
 definitely that there is another. But I feel 
 morally sure that there is. Otherwise she 
 would accept Horace. It s harassing, for 
 they are just made for each other. I warn 
 you, George, that I am going to do everything 
 that I can to bring them together. I shall 
 invite her frequently to stay, and I shall go 
 where she goes this summer. It was you who 
 were responsible for this hateful Association, 
 and I feel a moral obligation to save Horace 
 Wilson while there is yet time." 
 
 " The time to save him, as you call it, will 
 be after he has pocketed the thirteen thou 
 sand dollars," said George. 
 
 Mrs. Edmunds was a determined woman. 
 Her words were no idle sputterings to be for 
 gotten as soon as spoken. She was resolved 
 to keep the possibility that he might be 
 accepted constantly before the mind of 
 Horace Wilson, and with feminine, feline in 
 stinct she reached out for Ben Davis as an 
 ally. She happened to meet him at Tiffany s 
 some fortnight later. He had gone in to 
 have another look at the diamonds, and he 
 was reflecting that the pool would enable 
 him to satisfy admirably his impulse to do 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 239 
 
 the handsome thing by her who was to be 
 his, when he looked up and beheld Mrs. Ed 
 munds watching him. He bit his tongue in 
 vain to keep from blushing. He realized that 
 he had been caught in a very compromis 
 ing situation. Yet to his relief his observer 
 did not seem to notice it. On the contrary 
 she said : " If you have a spare moment, 
 Mr. Davis, I wish to have a few words with 
 you in regard to our mutual friend, Mr. 
 Wilson. Perhaps you do not know that he is 
 in love." 
 
 " I had guessed as much." 
 
 "Then you know her?" 
 
 " Not well. I have seen her." It would 
 have been more accurate to say that he had 
 seen the tip of her bonnet. But Ben was a 
 diplomat by instinct. 
 
 " She is a charming creature. Just the 
 woman for him. He really ought to be mar 
 ried. And all he needs is encouragement 
 to be egged on. Can I count on you, Mr. 
 Davis, now and then to do a little egging ? " 
 
 The late Virginia Tebbetts spoke with all 
 the engaging sweetness at her command, and 
 conscious that she had said all that was 
 necessary to enlist him on her side, pro- 
 
240 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINB 
 
 vided he were willing to yield to the tempta 
 tion, she glided away and left Ben to his 
 own cogitations. 
 
 The result of this interview w r as twofold. 
 It strengthened Ben s resolution to be cau 
 tious and make haste slowly in the matter of 
 committing himself toward his intended, and 
 it gave him an excuse for opening fire on 
 Horace. As Mrs. Edmunds had said, Horace 
 really ought to be married. A word or two 
 of encouragement from him might cement 
 matters and bring about his friend s everlast 
 ing happiness. The game was perfectly fair, 
 for Horace knew well enough that the man 
 who was engaged first would lose the pool. 
 
 The opportunity came the following week. 
 Ben was returning from Philadelphia, where 
 he had been to call on his Dulcinea, and he 
 ran across Horace in the train. They had 
 the smoking-compartment all to themselves, 
 so Ben opened fire at once. 
 
 " I ve come to the conclusion, old man," 
 he said, " that there s no happiness like mar 
 ried happiness. I rather expect to be mar 
 ried myself some day." This admission 
 seemed to Ben to be magnanimous, and he 
 proceeded to add, without a qualm, "A little 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 241 
 
 bird has told me that you have only to ask in 
 a certain quarter to be accepted." 
 
 "And leave you to gather in the pool?" 
 replied Horace, promptly. " Springes to 
 catch woodcocks, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, I should win the pool," said Ben, 
 slowly. " But what is a pool compared 
 with true love ? You may lose her, man, 
 if you let mercenary considerations move 
 you." 
 
 Horace made no verbal response. He 
 merely sighed sighed deeply. Ben, who 
 was a diplomat, respected this display of 
 emotion by silence. He bided his time and 
 said, presently, " I understand that she is 
 very charming." 
 
 " She is an angel," said Horace. " But 
 I m not worthy of her, in the first place, and 
 in the second, she doesn t care for me." 
 
 " How can you tell until you ask her ? " 
 murmured Ben ; though, to do him justice, 
 he reminded himself of the murderer of 
 Gonzago, pouring the poison into his vic 
 tim s ear in the play of one William Shake 
 speare. 
 
 Horace sighed again, more pensively and 
 less hopelessly than before. Just then the 
 16 
 
242 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 train stopped at a way station and Ben took 
 advantage of the five minutes intermission to 
 telegraph to the florist at Philadelphia : 
 
 " Delay lily." 
 
 He had given orders that morning to have 
 one sent to her on Easter Sunday, which was 
 the day after to-morrow, but it seemed to 
 him, in view of the entire situation, that he 
 had better suspend active operations until 
 he should ascertain whether Horace s cam 
 paign was likely to be long or short. The 
 girl might be one of the kind who would re 
 fuse Horace the first time ; in which case 
 there would be a fearful relapse, and months 
 might pass before the sick man could be 
 egged on to a second trial. 
 
 The spring slipped away, and so did the 
 summer and autumn, and presently the 
 ground was covered with snow, and Christ 
 mas-wreaths were in the windows. On the 
 evening of the twenty-fourth, or Christmas- 
 eve as we call it, the mercury was only five 
 degrees above zero ; it was snowing, and 
 those who had put off buying their Christmas 
 presents until the last minute found Jack 
 Frost a too attentive companion. Ben Da 
 vis was not among them. He was sitting in 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 243 
 
 his pleasant bachelor s rooms, comfortably 
 established before a glorious fire. He had 
 bought all his Christinas presents, and he 
 had even hung up his own stocking, but he 
 was not thinking of Christmas at the moment. 
 Once or twice he rubbed his hands pleasant 
 ly together, as though he were gratified at 
 his own reflections. And indeed they were 
 satisfactory from his point of view. Only 
 the day before yesterday he had had a most 
 interesting interview with his ally and fellow- 
 conspirator, Mrs. George Edmunds, who had 
 complimented him on his egging capabili 
 ties, and whose final words had been, " She 
 is coming to stay with us to-morrow, and I 
 shall be egregiously surprised if he doesn t 
 ask her and if she doesn t accept him. It is 
 practically an accomplished fact." 
 
 An accomplished fact ! With Horace Wil 
 son engaged and out of the way, the pool 
 would be his and he would be free to be as 
 devoted as he pleased to the charmer in 
 Philadelphia. Another Christmas-eve should 
 not find him a lonely bachelor, but a happy 
 Benedict, with the sweetest wife in the world. 
 He had waited the longest, but he had won 
 both the pool and the most charming of her 
 
244 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 sex. And after all, was he not the one en 
 titled to the pool? But for his prudence 
 and prompt action in the nick of time, there 
 would have been no pool left. It would have 
 gone where the rest of the funds in the 
 " Plimsoll Aeronautic Concern " had gone. 
 Instead, it was invested in a gilt-edged mort 
 gage on improved real estate. Prudence ! 
 Caution ! These had been the watchwords 
 of his career. They had served him well in 
 business, and now they were to serve him 
 well in love. If only Horace Wilson an 
 nounced his engagement on Christmas-day, 
 he would offer himself on the first of Jan 
 uary, and she should have the diamonds. 
 He rubbed his hands again at the thought, 
 then started, for someone had knocked. It 
 was ten o clock. Who could be the caller 
 on so cold and stormy anight? " Come in," 
 he cried, and in walked the gentleman of 
 whom he had been thinking, well done up 
 in a heavy coat which was plentifully be 
 sprinkled with snow. 
 
 "I wish you merry Christmas, Horace. 
 You look like Santa Claus himself." 
 
 " I am Santa Claus. By your leave, Ben, 
 I ve come for a cigar and a nightcap. Ah ! " 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 245 
 
 he added as lie approached the hearth, " I 
 see you have hung your stocking up." 
 
 " Yes. I always do that. Some years I 
 wake up and find it empty. But it reminds 
 me of old times to see it there." 
 
 " Well, you won t find it empty to-morrow 
 morning. I ve come to fill it." 
 
 " Brought me a present, eh ? " Ben s pulses 
 bounded joyfully, but his habitual caution 
 bade him speak decorously. 
 
 " A good many men would be very glad to 
 find what you will find in your stocking. 
 But very likely you won t care much. Ben, 
 I m engaged. I dare say you can afford to 
 congratulate me." 
 
 Congratulate him ? It was a little awk 
 ward to have to jump up and nearly wring a 
 man s hand off when you had just come into 
 a neat $13,500 as the result of his action. 
 Nevertheless, Ben did it with consummate 
 tact and all the semblance of sincerity. 
 Glad ? Of course he was glad ; simply radi 
 ant. There was no need to pretend. He 
 shook Horace by the hand again and again, 
 and they both laughed until they nearly 
 cried. 
 
 " You have won the pool, old boy, and I 
 
246 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 don t care a straw. I m the luckiest fellow 
 in the world. She s a perfect darling." 
 
 " I m sure she is. I wish you no end of 
 happiness, Horace." 
 
 " Do you know her, Ben? " 
 
 " No, I caught just a glimpse of her once 
 on George Edmunds s door-steps. Merely 
 the tip of her bonnet. I suspected you, 
 though, from that minute." 
 
 " Did you, really ? George has been aw 
 fully kind ; that is, confound him, I mean 
 infernally disagreeable. He did not want 
 me to lose the pool, and so he tried to make 
 out that it would be time enough to think of 
 marrying when the twenty years ran out. 
 But his wife, heaven bless her, and you, Ben, 
 kept my spirits up. If it wasn t one at me 
 it was the other, until finally I took heart 
 and asked her. You were gunning for the 
 pool, of course, Ben. I saw that. But you 
 helped me all the same, and, thanks to you 
 and Virginia Edmunds, I ve something to 
 live for now. You don t know, Ben, what an 
 insignificant thing money seems to me to 
 night. Get married get married, Ben, as 
 soon as you can." 
 
 " Perhaps I may some day," he answered, 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 247 
 
 significantly, moved by Horace s enthusiasm, 
 for it was no longer necessary to be cautious. 
 " I shall have to drink to bachelorhood alone 
 this year ; but between you and me, Horace, 
 I hope for better things some day." 
 
 " Don t put it off, Ben. If you only knew 
 but you don t. I won t bore you. George 
 says I m as obnoxious to the nerves as a 
 Fourth of July celebration." 
 
 " I don t even know her name." 
 
 "Florence. Do you remember the day 
 we met on the train coming from Philadel 
 phia ? I had just been to see her. Florence 
 Delaney." 
 
 Ben looked at him for a moment in silence. 
 " It is a pretty name," he said, quietly. 
 
 " And she is an adorable woman." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I thought you said you didn t know her." 
 
 " I was mistaken. I find I do. You are 
 indeed the luckiest man in the world." 
 
 Horace glanced at him narrowly, struck by 
 his grave tone and by the quietness of his 
 demeanor. " Poor fellow," he said to him 
 self. " He must be thinking what an infer 
 nally dull thing it is to be an old bachelor. 
 I won t remind him of it any longer." 
 
24:8 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 Horace remained until he had finished his 
 cigar. After he had gone Ben sat for a long 
 time with his face in his hands and his head 
 on the table. To think that he had never 
 recognized her on George Edmunds s steps 
 that Sunday morning. He called to mind 
 Horace s speech urging him not to put off 
 being married, and he laughed at his own 
 discomfiture, though there were real tears in 
 his eyes. He said to himself that he was 
 doomed to be an old bachelor to the end of 
 his days. Christmas-eve after Christmas- 
 eve would find him just like this. What a 
 fool he had been. Prudence ! Caution ! 
 They had served him well, indeed, in the 
 matter of love. He seemed to see them be 
 fore his mind s sight in mocking letters of 
 fire. He had won the pool ; but what was 
 the pool now? Poor, pitiful schemer that 
 he had been ; he had thrown away the chance 
 of his life. 
 
 He walked his room long that night, and 
 when he went to bed it was not to sleep. 
 The sun rose on a city mantled in snow. 
 It was Christmas-day, but Ben felt that he 
 belonged nowhere except at his club. He 
 dined there alone, and after dinner he went 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 249 
 
 into the writing-room and wrote. Merely a 
 few lines ; but when he had finished them he 
 felt better. On the following morning he 
 rose early, for he had a present to buy on 
 his way down town. He was at Tiffany s so 
 promptly that the attendants were still nib 
 bing the aftermath of Merry Christmas from 
 their eyes when he entered. "Let this be 
 delivered as soon as possible. It is a Christ 
 mas present I had neglected to buy," he said 
 to the salesman from whom he made his pur 
 chase. 
 
 An hour and a half later Horace Wilson 
 and his ladylove were sitting on the sofa in 
 Mrs. George Edmnnds s drawing-room, when 
 the maid entered with a tolerably large par 
 cel which she delivered to Miss Delaney. 
 Notwithstanding that Miss Delaney was very 
 comfortable where she was, she forsook the 
 sofa in order to examine her belated Christ 
 mas present. 
 
 " I wonder whom it can be from, Horace," 
 she murmured, feverishly, as young ladies 
 will under such circumstances. But before 
 she undid the parcel she stopped to read the 
 note which accompanied it. 
 
 " How very kind of him ! " she said, when 
 
250 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 she had finished. She looked just a little 
 queer, too. " It s from Mr. Benjamin Davis." 
 And she held out the note. 
 
 " Ben Davis ? I didn t know you knew him. " 
 
 " Oh, yes, dear, very well indeed. In 
 fact " but here Miss Delaney stopped and 
 gave a little laugh, and began busily to undo 
 the parcel. 
 
 " In fact what ? " asked Horace. 
 
 "Nothing." Then she gave a sudden 
 scream of transport. " Look, Horace, look. 
 Why, they are diamonds real diamonds. 
 Did you ever see anything so superb ? " 
 
 Horace whistled with astonishment. " Dia 
 monds ? I should think they were ! " 
 
 But a flush of disquietude presently suc 
 ceeded the expression of delight on Miss De 
 laney s face, and she looked up at her lover 
 appealingly. " I really don t see why he 
 sent me such a present. They are lovely, 
 but I don t think I like it." 
 
 "You mustn t feel annoyed, dearest," 
 answered Horace, mysteriously. "Ben has 
 tried to do the handsome thing, and he has 
 done it." 
 
 " May I really keep them, Horace ? " she 
 asked, almost supplicatingly. 
 
t 
 
 1 
 
 WHY THEY ARE DIAMONDS REAL DIAMONDS ! " 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 251 
 
 " Certainly, dear. Ben has sent them on 
 my account, and he has acted very gener 
 ously. I have a little confession to make, if 
 you will listen. I ought to have told you 
 before, but I haven t had time since yester 
 day. Ben and I have been members of a 
 club called the Matrimonial Tontine Mutual 
 Benefit Association." Thereupon Horace 
 told her the whole story at least he thought 
 he had. "So you see," he said in conclu 
 sion, " Ben, the dear old fellow, has taken it 
 into his head to do the handsome thing. He 
 has practically shared the pool with me." 
 
 " I see," said Florence Delaney, quietly, 
 but she shook her head with a little sigh and 
 looked queerer than before. Horace, how 
 ever, did not observe these signs of distrust 
 in his deductions, for he was engaged in 
 reading Ben Davis s letter, which, by the 
 way, was the most commonplace of epistles. 
 
 " Dear Miss Delaney," it ran. " Will you 
 do me the favor to accept these jewels with 
 my sincerest wishes for your future happi 
 ness? Wishing you a merry Christmas, I 
 am yours very sincerely, Benjamin Davis." 
 
 It was natural, in view of his understand 
 ing of the matter, that the gift of the dia- 
 
252 THE MATRIMONIAL TONTINE 
 
 moncls should not be concealed by Horace 
 from George Edmunds and his wife. It 
 happened later in the day, when Horace was 
 showing them to Mrs. George, that she re 
 marked, casually, " Now that it is all settled, 
 Horace, I don t mind telling you that I was 
 very much concerned at one time lest Flor 
 ence would accept Ben Davis." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " exclaimed our 
 hero, very nearly letting fall the precious 
 stones in his agitation. 
 
 " Why, he was the another of whom I 
 was so much afraid, though I didn t let you 
 see I was. I didn t know myself that he 
 was Mr. Davis until a few weeks ago, and 
 when I realized that I had induced him to 
 egg you on to offer yourself to his own sweet 
 heart, I felt like a guilty wretch. But it was 
 too late to draw back then. Why, Horace, 
 how strange you look ! I took it for granted 
 that Florence had told you all about it." 
 
 " You have merely added just a few paltry 
 details which make me inclined to be sorry 
 that I let Florence keep those diamonds," 
 said Horace, grimly. 
 
 " Ah, you won t be so cruel as to take them 
 away now after telling her she could keep 
 
BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 253 
 
 them ? Besides it would hurt Mr. Davis s 
 feelings. He has really been very gener 
 ous." 
 
 " Confound him, yes. I suppose you are 
 right, though. Poor fellow, how I pity him ! 
 I can certainly afford to be a little generous 
 too." 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 NICHOLS owed the beginning of 
 1 his reputation as an architect to his 
 successful design for the Public Library at 
 Foxburgh. The building was promptly rec 
 ognized as a tasteful and original conception ; 
 consequently new orders came in, not merely 
 for libraries, but for a church or two, several 
 town-halls, a soldiers monument, a skating- 
 rink, and sundry private residences. In the 
 language of Tom s friends and acquaintance, 
 his affairs were looking up, a pleasant condi 
 tion which emboldened Mrs. Nichols to have 
 several articles of furniture covered and to 
 buy two new carpets. She explained to Tom 
 that most women would have insisted on 
 having a new house, but that she was at 
 tached to the little nest which they had chos 
 en ten years before, when they had married 
 17 
 
258 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 for love in the teeth of the popular refrain, 
 " What on earth are they going to live on ? " 
 It was really a very attractive little house, 
 most conveniently situated, and they might 
 not be so happy elsewhere. 
 
 " Instead of moving, Tom, I intend to en 
 tertain more," added Mrs. Nichols. " You 
 know we have always wished to entertain 
 freely and never felt able to. Now we can." 
 
 Tom nodded approvingly. He did not 
 wish to move, and he shared his wife s ambi 
 tion to be hospitable. It was pleasant to 
 feel that he could afford to invite his friends 
 to the house without being conscious of the 
 price of oysters. Their social instincts had 
 nearly ruined them on several occasions. 
 Twice at least they had given a little supper 
 when their exchequer was alarmingly low, 
 merely because they could not resist the 
 temptation to take advantage of the witching 
 hungry hour after the theatre. 
 
 " I shall alter very little our way of doing 
 things, except to do them oftener and to in 
 vite a few more people," continued Mrs. Nich 
 ols, musingly. 
 
 " Exactly my idea, Elizabeth." 
 
 " If I did, I should drift straight into the 
 
BY IIOOK OR CROOK L>59 
 
 conventional, every-day, kettle-drum-giving 
 sort of woman, or we should find ourselves in 
 the smart set. Have you ever reflected, Tom, 
 that if you or I had been very rich when we 
 were married, we should have been in the 
 smart set to-day, starved in soul and feeding 
 off gold plates ? What a terrible existence it 
 would be to go on dining with the same lit 
 tle set of people three or four times a week, 
 never meeting any one else, and discussing 
 eternally horses, precious stones, and butlers ! 
 We should never have been willing to ride 
 on bicycles or spend the summer on an 
 abandoned farm. Oh, Tom, however rich we 
 may become, we must never surround our 
 selves with a gilded wall which shuts out of 
 view all the world and its interest except the 
 limited few who eat truffles in their food 
 every day." 
 
 Elizabeth Nichols was rarely outwardly 
 emotional, indeed she passed as a practical, 
 passive woman ; but there was a little quaver 
 of intensity in her closing sentence which 
 prompted Tom to lift his right hand and say, 
 " So help me," by way of expressing his in 
 tention not to erect such a wall when he be 
 came extremely wealthy. 
 
260 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 " We must never lose our independence," 
 she went on, " but I should like to branch 
 out just a little, to have interesting people at 
 the house in an informal way, and entertain 
 occasionally the strangers of note who come 
 to town literary men, actors you under 
 stand." 
 
 Tom nodded again. The proposition was 
 to his liking, for it was evident to him that 
 Mrs. Nichols in branching out did not intend 
 to banish the Welsh rarebit, the oysters in 
 cream, and other delicacies which Tom prided 
 himself on being able to prepare on a blazer 
 so skilfully that the mouths of his friends 
 never ceased to water until the alcohol-lamp 
 went hopelessly out. 
 
 " It will be a delightful and improving ex 
 perience for Minerva also," said Mrs. Nich 
 ols. " I feel her on my mind, and if I give 
 her the opportunity to meet agreeable people 
 here, while she is at the receptive age, I shall 
 not blame myself if she throws herself away 
 on some brainless individual hereafter." 
 
 Minerva Blair was Mrs. Nichols s first cou 
 sin once removed that is, the only daughter 
 of her first cousin Matilda Blair, who lived a 
 hundred miles away in the country. Minerva 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 261 
 
 was a graduate of Yassar, and a handsome, 
 graceful girl with decided talent as an artist. 
 She had lately come to town to try to make a 
 name for herself with her brush, and had es 
 tablished herself in a studio under the super 
 vision of her cousins Mr. and Mrs. Nichols. 
 
 Tom nodded a third time. He admired 
 Minerva Blair. She was natural and unaf 
 fected, with abundant spirit and an inquiring 
 mind, and she had style was in good style, 
 which to his artistic and fastidious eye was 
 all-important. She would draw pleasant 
 young men to his blazer, and at the same 
 time, as Elizabeth had pointed out, she 
 would have the opportunity to cultivate her 
 self by contact with interesting people. De 
 cidedly here was a reason for entertaining if 
 there were no other. 
 
 This conversation between Tom and his 
 wife took place in October, and it was the 
 last week in November before all the furni 
 ture had been recovered and Mrs. Nichols gave 
 her first entertainment. It was to be a sup 
 per party. Eight kindred spirits, including 
 the host and hostess, were to see " Hamlet," 
 and come back to meet the famous actor who 
 impersonated the title role at supper. Fancy, 
 
262 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 therefore, the feelings of Mrs. Nichols when 
 she received a note from her lion at five 
 o clock on the afternoon of the appointed day 
 stating that he was suffering from the grippe, 
 and that his physician absolutely forbade him 
 to act except on the proviso that he went to 
 bed immediately afterward. 
 
 " Tom," called Mrs. Nichols from the top 
 of the stairs, when she heard her husband s 
 step in the hall, " he has the grippe and can t 
 come." 
 
 " Who has ? " answered Tom, though he 
 knew perfectly well. It was not usual with 
 him to pretend ignorance in order to convict 
 his wife of utter unintelligibility of state 
 ment, but he had his reason on this occasion. 
 
 His wife, however, disdained to reply. She 
 merely waited for him to come up stairs, then 
 thrust the note at him, exclaiming, " Head 
 for yourself I " 
 
 Tom took what seemed to her an everlast 
 ing time to complete this operation, as hus 
 bands are apt to do when they hold the key 
 to the situation and are trying to be myste 
 rious. 
 
 " Well, dear," he said at length, " it might 
 be worse." 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 263 
 
 " Worse ? Howvcould it be ? " 
 
 " If you will allow me to finish, I will tell 
 you. It might be worse, as I was saying 
 when you interrupted me, for by what now 
 seems to have been a lucky chance, I took it 
 upon myself an hour ago to invite Harold 
 Delaney and Signor Spazzopalli to join us 
 at supper to-night." 
 
 " Spazzopalli, the new barytone ? " 
 
 " The very same." 
 
 " Oh, Tom, that was a stroke of genius." 
 
 " Harold Delaney, who has him in tow, had 
 been lunching him to-day at the Picnic Club, 
 and was still dilating on his charms when I 
 dropped in there. Said I to myself, said I, 
 why shouldn t I ask him to come to-night 
 and have a rarebit with the rest ? Harold 
 jumped at it. He says he is a soulful creat 
 ure." 
 
 " Harold always was a goose, but he seems 
 to have a faculty for intimacies with interest 
 ing people. I really believe, Tom, that the 
 signer is a better card than the other. He 
 is more of a novelty ; scarcely any one has 
 met him. He is to sing at Mrs. Willoughby 
 Walton s musical next week at ever-so-niuch 
 a note, and he may sing to us for nothing, if 
 
264: BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 he likes the rarebit. Minerva, you are just 
 in time to hear the news," she added, to her 
 cousin, who came gliding in for a cup of tea. 
 
 " Hamlet has the grippe and has given out 
 for to-night, and Tom has invited Spazzopalli 
 instead." 
 
 Miss Blair clapped her hands joyously. 
 
 " How exciting ! His concert yesterday 
 was a grand success, and everyone is dying 
 to meet him personally. Harold Delaney 
 said to me yesterday, as we were leaving the 
 hall, that his voice has all the sentiment of 
 the nightingale without its desperation." 
 
 " Harold is coming too," said Mrs. Nichols. 
 
 " And not merely Harold," said Tom, with 
 an effort at nonchalance. 
 
 " Whom else have you asked?" cried his 
 wife, tragically, divining from his manner that 
 he had a confession to make. 
 
 " I have asked Irving K. Baker." 
 
 " That man ! " Mrs. Nichols sank on the 
 sofa in an attitude of collapse. 
 
 " I came bump upon him in the street just 
 after leaving the Picnic Club, and and Eliz 
 abeth, you forget that, if he hadn t been on 
 the committee, my Foxburgh plans might 
 never have been accepted." 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 265 
 
 " Was that a reason for inviting him to 
 supper to-night ? You had all the rest of the 
 year in which to invite him. Oh dear, what 
 shall I do with him?" 
 
 "Who is this bone of contention?" asked 
 Minerva. 
 
 " A reporter whom we met on the aban 
 doned farm where we stayed summer before 
 last. He fell out of a balloon on the Fourth of 
 July and on to us. Tom couldn t abide him, 
 and would have had a pitched battle with 
 him but for me. He and Professor Strout, 
 his companion in the balloon, both fell in 
 love with the daughter of the abandoned farm, 
 and the Professor won her." 
 
 " Oh, I remember. You wrote mother 
 about him. He sounded interesting but a 
 little dreadful." 
 
 "He is interesting," said Tom, "and he 
 isn t nearly as dreadful as he was. He has 
 improved in appearance, and he tells me he 
 has come here to live. I told him that he 
 must come to see us, at which he seemed to 
 hesitate, and he answered that he was afraid 
 he wasn t much of a hand at meeting society 
 people. That maddened me, for if there is a 
 reportorial trick that I abhor it is that of re- 
 
266 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 ferring to those who give their daughters in 
 marriage with some degree of ceremony, and 
 when they invite friends to dine don t permit 
 everything edible to be served at once, as 
 1 society people. See here, Baker, I said, 
 leading him into a convenient doorway so 
 that we might have it out squarely, that s 
 stuff. All respectable and intelligent people 
 nowadays are society people. Clergymen s 
 sons and professors daughters are vying in 
 the effort to be gracious and graceful. The 
 day has passed in this country when to eat 
 in one s shirt sleeves, to lie in one s boots on 
 the sofa, and to go to bed at nine o clock is 
 significantly indicative of republican virtue, 
 any more than washing one s hands oftener 
 than once a day or wearing a swallow-tail 
 coat in the evening suggests to the sober 
 sentiment of the community a want of moral 
 fibre or a lack of patriotism. "When the news 
 papers sneer at the well-bred as society 
 people they are trying to increase their cir 
 culation by consoling the vulgar, and they 
 succeed very imperfectly. It is sheer cant. 
 You are a society person yourself, Baker, and 
 you are proud of it. 
 
 " Why, Tom, you almost remind me of him 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 267 
 
 by your tirade. What did he say? " asked 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 " That was the strangest part of it. I 
 rather expected he would get augry. In 
 stead, he looked at me in a confused sort of 
 way, and then answered : It is cant. And 
 what you say is true. It s envy that breeds 
 the sneer on the reportorial pen. As for 
 myself, I ve come here to live, and I d be 
 glad to make acquaintances. Two years ago 
 I needed salting badly, and I m not entirely 
 cured to-day, but I know a trifle more than I 
 did then. I ll come to see you. How is 
 your lady ? " 
 
 " I wish he d sprinkle a little salt on the 
 word lady in that connection," said Mrs. 
 Nichols. 
 
 " It was rather blood-curdling, and nearly 
 stifled the generous impulse which the pa 
 thos of his surrender and utter humility had 
 aroused in me. I suppose you wish it 
 had. Come to-night, I said. My wife 
 has asked a few friends to drop in to sup 
 per after the theatre. And he s coming. 
 You know you always stood up for him, 
 Elizabeth." 
 
 "Yes, on an abandoned farm. He was 
 
268 BY NOON OR CROOK 
 
 splendid there. Well, dear, if he s coming, 
 he s coming. Oil and water do not mix, but 
 possibly Signor Spazzopalli and Mr. Irving 
 K. Baker may. It is your party now, Tom, 
 not mine, but I will do all I can for you. 
 There will be plenty to eat, but I warn you 
 that if the affair does not prove an artistic 
 success, I am not to blame." 
 
 "I will devote myself to Mr. Baker," said 
 Minerva. " You know I like unconventional 
 people, and I m sure we shall get on fa 
 mously together." 
 
 Mrs. Nichols s theatre party included, be 
 sides themselves and Miss Blair, Mrs. George 
 Swan, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan Seymour, and 
 two single men. Mrs. Swan was a culti 
 vated and attractive woman of refined sensi 
 bilities and artistic tastes. She took a keen 
 interest in celebrities, and she had not met 
 Signor Spazzopalli. On the other hand, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Duncan Seymour had met him 
 four times, although he had been in town 
 only three days. On his arrival he had 
 found Mr. Seymour s card with a card of in 
 vitation to the Picnic Club. By the next 
 morning s post he had received a note run 
 ning, " My dear Signor Spazzopalli, will 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 269 
 
 you come to us for luncheon to-day at two ? 
 Yours cordially, Louise Seymour." The 
 same afternoon, after luncheon, Mrs. Sey 
 mour had taken him to drive in a phaeton 
 for an hour and a half, and she considered 
 him now one of her oldest friends, and spoke 
 of him as "that dear signer." She was a 
 fine figure of a woman, with a perfervid 
 manner. She produced the effect of wishing 
 to embrace one on the spot, which kept peo 
 ple who believed her glowing complexion to 
 be artificial in constant terror. She had 
 taken a strong fancy to Minerva Blair, and 
 declared the intention of making her a bohe- 
 mian. She deemed herself one, and she was 
 fond of saying that she did not see why men 
 should have all the fun. By way of living 
 up to her principles she smoked occasional 
 cigarettes, took a small gin cocktail before 
 dinner when her husband took his, and used 
 minor oaths. Mr. Seymour was a hard 
 working and somewhat talented musician, 
 who sympathized with his wife s ambition 
 to tame lions, and approved of her desire to 
 be a good comrade. One of the single men 
 was a rather weather-beaten beau who spoke 
 languages and was considered available where 
 
270 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 foreigners were concerned. The other was a 
 playwright of growing repute. 
 
 Signer Spazzopalli and Harold Delaney 
 arrived a few minutes after the theatre party. 
 Harold was what might be called a social 
 pilot-fish to celebrities. He could rush in 
 where women would hesitate, and conse 
 quently could beard a lion in his den, or 
 bath if need be, and put a leading-string 
 about him. He and Mrs. Seymour were 
 pals, as that lady called it, and he invariably 
 descanted on the attractions of the musician 
 and his wife to the animals he had in tow. 
 
 Mrs. Seymour straightway took possession 
 of the singer, and proceeded to exploit the 
 rest of the company for his comprehension. 
 She beckoned to Minerva to come and be 
 introduced. 
 
 " Signer, this is a friend of mine who 
 adores your voice Miss Minerva Blair, a 
 Vassar girl and an artist. She is a college 
 graduate, you know, and you must see her 
 pictures." 
 
 Spazzopalli bent his long, lean figure in a 
 profound bow. He saw before him a very 
 pretty girl, and beauty in any form appealed 
 to him. 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 271 
 
 "I think I never enjoyed anything so 
 much as that last song of yours yesterday," 
 she said, with simple directness. "It must 
 be glorious to be able to enthrall people so 
 that they seem to touch the stars for a little 
 while at least." 
 
 " Mademoiselle is too kind. Yes, I enjoy 
 my art. And it pleasures me to hear I make 
 people feel as you say." 
 
 He spoke without hesitation, in spite of 
 the quaintness of his diction. Eager enthu 
 siasm shone, too, from his large dark eyes. 
 They were the most striking feature of his 
 countenance, which otherwise was conven 
 tional with its smoothly parted hair and 
 closely trimmed pointed brown beard. 
 
 " Isn t he devilish handsome ? " whispered 
 Mrs. Seymour in a fairly audible tone, as 
 Mrs. Swan claimed the singer s attention by 
 a dulcet remark. 
 
 The necessity for answering this inquiry 
 was obviated for Minerva by the entrance of 
 Irving K. Baker, whose aspect of novelty 
 plainly altered the current of Mrs. Sey 
 mour s thoughts. "Why, who is that ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 "Mr. Irving K. Baker, a friend of the 
 
272 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 Nicholses," answered Minerva. " He is con 
 nected with the press, I believe." 
 
 " How interesting ! " said Mrs. Seymour, 
 rhapsodically. "I do like new people. I 
 wonder what he does ? " 
 
 Mr. Baker s toilet was a relief to Elizabeth, 
 though she had been prepared to receive him 
 cordially in a cardigan jacket, in case he 
 should appear in that form of evening dress. 
 She was an eminently considerate and rea 
 sonable woman in such matters. For in 
 stance, though she greatly preferred, for 
 aesthetic reasons, to have her maids wear 
 caps, she invariably yielded to their scruples 
 that it was a badge of service, and merely in 
 sisted that they should do their hair neatly. 
 But she liked to see conventions respected, 
 if no one s feelings were lacerated or princi 
 ples violated thereby, and it was with a glow 
 of satisfaction that she perceived Mr. Baker 
 had on a swallow-tail coat, and that no one 
 could cavil at his outward appearance. This 
 agreeable consciousness imparted perhaps 
 extra cordiality to her greeting. 
 
 " It is very pleasant to see you again," she 
 said, beaming upon him. "And what do you 
 hear of our mutual friends the Strouts ? " 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 273 
 
 "In the last letter which the professor 
 wrote me he stated that he had decided to 
 turn his talents as a juggler to account. 
 Henceforward from May to November he 
 will devote himself to navigating the air, and 
 from November to May he will practise nec 
 romancy, disguised as Herr Falkenburg, late 
 wizard extraordinary to the King of Greece." 
 
 "To the King of Greece?" 
 
 " A mere figment of the fancy, a pardon 
 able advertising dodge which will add a 
 certain glamour to his impersonations and 
 yet injure in no respect those whom it de 
 ceives." 
 
 " And Maretta ? What does she think of 
 this ? " inquired Mrs. Nichols. 
 
 "She is his trump card. She figures 
 nightly as Almeda, the Georgian beauty and 
 gypsy mind-reader. The Georgian women 
 are the most beautiful in the world, and Pro 
 fessor Strout states that none but the ini 
 tiated for a moment suspect that the free- 
 born daughter of an abandoned farm is not a 
 genuine flower of Asian soil. They are billed 
 to perform here in a fortnight." 
 
 "Next week? Tom, do you hear that? 
 We must all go to see them. Fancy Maretta 
 18 
 
274 BY HOOK OR CROON 
 
 as an Asian mind-reader ! I wonder if she 
 still says Oh my ! " 
 
 Mr. Baker colored a little. " Our women 
 have great powers of adaptability," he said. 
 "We should probably find her wonderfully 
 changed." 
 
 "But no less charming, I m sure," said 
 Elizabeth, who felt a little ashamed of her 
 self. 
 
 Supper was now ready, or rather the com 
 pany seated themselves at table, while Tom 
 toyed with one blazer and Duncan Seymour, 
 by special appointment, with another. There 
 was to be a choice between Welsh rarebit a 
 la Nichols and oysters in cream a la Seymour, 
 and each of the cooks in question looked 
 gravely important in his struggles -with the 
 raw materials. Minerva Blair found herself 
 next to Signer Spazzopalli and opposite 
 Mr. Baker. She remembered her promise 
 to devote herself to the reporter, but she 
 found some difficulty in doing so, owing to 
 the fact that Signor Spazzopalli, after a 
 preliminary show of deference to his hostess, 
 had turned his head in her direction, and 
 was giving utterance to a flow of words the 
 charm of which was heightened for her by 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 275 
 
 the quaint turn of his sentences and by the 
 accent with which they were spoken. She 
 saw, as in a dream, cheese and beer galore 
 dissolve into a turbid sea and stiffen into a 
 quagmire. She heard without hearing the 
 conversation around her, and the food which 
 she put to her lips was it oysters a la Sey 
 mour or rarebit a la Nichols ? She could not 
 have stated. And the dear signor? Alike 
 the blandishments of Mrs. Swan and the 
 minor oaths of Mrs. Duncan Seymour, the 
 pleasant prattle of one of the single men and 
 the genial stories of Mr. Baker, seemed lost 
 upon him. He was devotion itself to Mi 
 nerva Blair, and after the blazers had given 
 up their feast and grown cold, he seated 
 himself at the piano and sang " Non e ver " 
 in a tremendous manner. Here was a ten- 
 strike for Mrs. Nichols. She forgave him 
 all. He had done unbidden what she had 
 fervently longed for, and feared that he 
 might not do. No matter what the cause of 
 his singing, he had sung ; and what is more, 
 he was going to sing again. 
 
 " Wasn t it damnably fine ? " whispered 
 Mrs. Seymour, squeezing Elizabeth s hand. 
 It was because Mrs. Seymour s oaths were 
 
276 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 apt to be utterly inappropriate that other 
 women did not take offence at them. Mrs. 
 Nichols, who naturally was elated, even 
 squeezed her hand in return. 
 
 Spazzopalli sang this time Tosti s " Good- 
 by," and there was no mistaking his mean 
 ing. He was singing at and for Minerva in 
 true Italian style, and yet, of course, not so 
 demonstratively as to make his homage other 
 wise than complimentary to her. She was 
 still in a dream. Her eyes were not lowered ; 
 she simply looked transported and unusually 
 handsome. Mr. Baker could scarcely take 
 his gaze off her. But she had forgotten Mr. 
 Baker s existence. 
 
 Mrs. Seymour glided up to her at the end 
 of the second song and nearly embraced her. 
 " You have bowled him over, dear. He sees 
 no one else in the room. You naughty, 
 lucky girl. Now I m going to plan a nice 
 little luncheon for you this week. There is 
 a ladies room, you know, at the Picnic Club, 
 and I ll get Duncan to make arrangements 
 for a party of four. You and the signor, 
 and Baker and I. Duncan has engagements 
 and couldn t come. Baker s queer, but he s 
 interesting. We ll have a stunning old time. 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 277 
 
 Now don t invent any excuses," she added, in 
 repulse of Minerva s look of shy protestation. 
 " Let yourself go, child. Life is dregs unless 
 you let yourself go now and then." 
 
 Fifteen minutes later the party had with 
 drawn, except Irving K. Baker, who, at his 
 host s instigation, had remained to light a 
 cigar. The newspaper man he was now on 
 the editorial staff of the largest paper in the 
 city had a certain fascination for Tom. 
 He was curious in regard to him and inter 
 ested in his development. There was noth 
 ing hackneyed about him, even though he 
 was capable of flying in the face of traditional 
 sensibilities. Tom was conscious of running 
 the risk of becoming irritated, but he could 
 not resist the temptation of dallying with 
 him. 
 
 Baker started to go as soon as his cigar 
 was lighted, but after putting on his over 
 shoes and a muffler, he paused and said, 
 " What was the name of the profane lady ? " 
 
 Tom was nonplussed for a moment, then 
 answered, with a laugh, " Oh, you mean Mrs. 
 Duncan Seymour. Her bark is worse than 
 her bite, Baker. I mean her swear words 
 are all on the surface." 
 
278 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 " She has honored me with an invitation 
 to luncheon." 
 
 " You should accept by all means. She s 
 an enterprising, kind-hearted woman, whose 
 chief fault is that she likes to pose. She be 
 lieves that little vulgar eccentricities give her 
 artistic standing, but she means nothing 
 wrong by them. I assure you that Mrs. 
 Seymour is very kind." 
 
 Tom was conscious somehow of being on 
 the defensive, and of feeling the necessity of 
 championing his guests so far as he could 
 justly do so in the presence of this former 
 critic of " society people." 
 
 " And Miss Blair, who is she ? " 
 
 " She s a cousin of my wife, a college 
 graduate and an art student, who has come 
 here recently to live. I m sure you d like 
 her." 
 
 " I like her already. She s an exception 
 ally charming woman." 
 
 Tom s satisfaction at being able to praise 
 this second subject of conversation without 
 stint received a slight check from Mr. Baker s 
 impressive tone. It made him think of the 
 evening when the reporter had announced to 
 him his intention to make the present Mrs. 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 279 
 
 Alvin Strout his wife within six hours after he 
 had been introduced to her. 
 
 " All young girls are very much alike, how 
 ever," Tom added, with some duplicity. 
 
 " On the contrary, I see great differences 
 in them, far greater differences than between 
 rose and rose, for instance," said Mr. Baker, 
 nodding at a vase of flowers which stood on 
 the hall table. " She is a very beautiful 
 young lady," he continued. " It will be a 
 pity if that signer carries her off." 
 
 " What ! " asked Tom, overwhelmed by 
 the unconventional frankness of this remark. 
 
 " Signor Spazzopalli. He has his eye on 
 her." 
 
 " They never met until this evening, my 
 dear sir." 
 
 " It is a case of love at first sight, then. 
 These foreigners come over here to take our 
 money, and they sneer at us behind our 
 backs. They have no interest in the institu 
 tions of this country ; they regard it simply 
 as a mint where they can fill their pockets 
 and go home again without a thought as to 
 our aspirations. Miss Minerva Blair should 
 marry an American." 
 
 " Amen to that with all my heart," said 
 
280 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 Tom. " But, frankly, I do not see any im 
 mediate prospect of her marrying anybody. 
 
 " I trust that you are correct in your sup 
 position. Perhaps," added Mr. Baker, re 
 flectively, as he stood on the door-step, " my 
 remarks may savor to you of impertinence 
 and I seem to meddle. My interest in the 
 young lady in question must be my excuse. 
 I have only to state that if at any time af 
 fairs reach a crisis, I beg that you will not 
 hesitate to call upon me. I may be able to 
 assist you in this connection. Good-night." 
 
 II 
 
 ONE evening about a fortnight later Mrs. 
 Nichols was sitting at her fireside absorbed 
 in contemplation. Tom was dining with a 
 club of his fellow-architects, so that she had 
 only her own thoughts for company. These 
 thoughts were far from gratifying. She was 
 revolving the problem which, according to 
 Mrs. Duncan Seymour, who had visited her 
 that afternoon, was agitating society what 
 was to be the upshot of Signor Spazzopal- 
 li s intense devotion to her cousin, Minerva 
 
21Y HOOK OH CROOK 281 
 
 Blair ? Mrs. Seymour had called in order to 
 assure her that the rumor that the signor 
 had a wife in Italy had been carefully inves 
 tigated by Harold Delaney, and shown to be 
 utterly without foundation. "I should be 
 glad to know he had six wives, if we could 
 only prove it," Mrs. Nichols murmured to 
 herself as she recalled the speech. It an 
 noyed her to think that everyone should 
 take for granted she desired the match, when 
 she really abominated the idea of one. Mi 
 nerva Blair marry a foreigner ! Minerva 
 Blair, whose development had been a source 
 of intense interest to her ever since the day 
 she had learned of her young cousin s inten 
 tion to enter college ! She had watched her 
 and been proud of her, and she had encour 
 aged her to devote herself to art as a profes 
 sion, when Minerva s own father and mother 
 would have had her return home and be 
 come a conventional country daughter of the 
 house. And now she was to be whisked off 
 by an ardent Italian and merge her individ 
 uality in the unknown possessor of a splen 
 did voice ! It seemed to Mrs. Nichols al 
 most as though she were about to lose a 
 second self ; for she was fond of saying to 
 
282 BY ROOK OR CROOK 
 
 Tom that Minerva was what she might have 
 been had she gone to college, given her ar 
 tistic capabilities a chance, and refused to 
 sacrifice her aspirations to the pertinacious 
 advances of a struggling young architect. 
 But and Mrs. Nichols frowned despairing 
 ly at the reflection suppose Minerva were 
 really in love with Spazzopalli, anyone who 
 interfered might be blighting the girl s hap 
 piness for life. There was the rub, and Mrs. 
 Nichols tapped her foot by way of express 
 ing her perplexity. 
 
 At that moment Mr. Irving K. Baker en 
 tered, and, as Elizabeth rose to greet him, 
 his request to her husband to apply to him, 
 if at any time he could be of service in this 
 connection, came into her mind. She and 
 Tom had enjoyed several hearty laughs over 
 it, but now somehow the idea of appealing to 
 him did not seem to her in her present frame 
 of mind quite so preposterous. Perhaps he 
 would be able to think of some point of at 
 tack which had escaped her ; very possibly 
 he might know something fatal against Sig- 
 nor Spazzopalli that he really was mar 
 ried, for instance, Harold Delaney to the 
 contrary notwithstanding, or that he was a 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 283 
 
 vicious character. Newspaper men know 
 many things which are hidden from the 
 world at large, and this might be one of 
 them. Torn had told her that evening before 
 he went to his dinner-party that he had not 
 been able to glean a single disreputable item 
 against him. What a triumph it would be 
 to be able to confront him on his return with 
 splendid damning evidence ! 
 
 These reflections passed through Mrs. 
 Nichols s mind as she listened to her visitor s 
 opening remarks, which included an an 
 nouncement that Professor and Mrs. Alvin 
 Strout had arrived in town, and that he 
 counted on the pleasure of taking Mrs. Nich 
 ols and her husband and Mr. and Mrs. Duncan 
 Seymour and Miss Minerva Blair to one of 
 their performances. Mrs. Nichols further re 
 flected that Mr. Baker, in spite of his lack of 
 social experience, evidently possessed social 
 instincts, in that he was trying to kill three 
 birds with a single stone one bird being 
 Tom and herself, who had invited him to 
 supper, another bird being the Seymours, 
 who had invited him to luncheon and been 
 generally kind to him, and the third bird be 
 ing Minerva, whom he evidently desired to 
 
284 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 kill for lier own sweet self. She answered 
 that so far as she could speak for the others 
 she had every reason to think they would all 
 be charmed to go. As she did so the conun 
 drum propounded itself to her, as conun 
 drums of this kind sometimes will, in case 
 she were forced to choose between Spazzo- 
 palli and Irving K. Baker for Minerva, which 
 of the two she would select. In her anxiety 
 to decide she found herself examining the 
 young man attentively. He looks honest, 
 she thought, and as though he has ideas of 
 his own, however odd they may be ; he has 
 spruced himself since the day he fell from 
 the balloon, and appears very much like 
 everybody else. This diagnosis did not 
 enable her to decide whether she would ad 
 judge him less undesirable than the signor 
 as a husband for Minerva, but she said to 
 herself : " I will consult him as to what we 
 can do. He will never realize how queer it 
 is of me." 
 
 " Mr. Baker," she said, a few moments la 
 ter, seizing a favorable opportunity, " do you 
 happen to know anything definite concerning 
 Signor Spazzopalli more than we who met 
 him in society see and know ? I have a par- 
 
BY HOOK OR CHOOK 285 
 
 ticular reason for wishing to be told every 
 thing there is to tell, so I take the liberty of 
 asking you the question." 
 
 Mr. Baker shook his head. " What is it 
 you wish to find out ? " he added, rather ea 
 gerly. "Perhaps as a newspaper man I might 
 be able to assist you." 
 
 " You do not happen to know, for in 
 stance, whether he is married or not ? " 
 
 " Married ? Have you heard that he is 
 married ? It would be the simplest thing in 
 the world to ascertain by cabling. I will 
 cable to-morrow, at my expense, and find out 
 for you, Mrs. Nichols." He stopped short 
 and looked at her inquiringly as though a 
 new idea had struck him. " Would you like 
 to discover that he is married ? " 
 
 Mrs. Nichols hesitated a moment, then, 
 with the engaging frankness of one who, hav 
 ing seized a bull by the horns, appreciates 
 that she must adapt herself to the situation, 
 answered : " I am going to take you into my 
 confidence, Mr. Baker. Signor Spazzopalli 
 is paying what appears to be serious atten 
 tion to my cousin, Miss Blair. We have rea 
 son to believe that he may wish to marry her. 
 One solution of the matter, of course, would 
 
28G BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 be to ascertain that he is already married to 
 someone else ; but inquiries made by others 
 lead me to believe that there is little hope of 
 that." 
 
 " But you would be glad to find it true ? 
 You are opposed to the match ? " 
 
 "I am opposed to nothing that would lead 
 to my cousin s happiness. But I will admit 
 that I do not fancy the idea of her marriage 
 to this foreigner." 
 
 " If you will allow me to make the observa 
 tion, Mrs. Nichols, I have, on every occasion 
 where an opportunity for the display of wis 
 dom has presented itself, had reason to ad 
 mire your sagacity and good sense." 
 
 " Thank you," said Elizabeth, with a little 
 courtesy. " And it is because you have such 
 a fresh, original way of looking at things that 
 I have dared to ask your advice. Now we 
 are quits. But let me say right here, Mr. 
 Baker, that if I believed in my heart that my 
 cousin were really in love with this man, I 
 would rather lose my tongue than breathe a 
 word of conspiracy against him. I have not 
 talked with her on the subject, for she has 
 not broached it to me, and that has sealed 
 my lips. I am sure, though, that she is fas- 
 
" I AM GOING TO TAKE YOU INTO MY CONFIDENCE 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 287 
 
 cinated by him, and under the spell of the 
 glamour which his magnificent voice casts 
 about him. She is young, ardent, and im 
 pressionable, and I firmly believe that his in 
 fluence is merely a spell, which any er 
 prosaic facts concerning him would dissipate. 
 I wish at least to discover all that I can con 
 cerning him, so that she may make her choice 
 with her eyes open. It may be bias and prej 
 udice which affects me, but I cannot help 
 feeling that he is not altogether worthy of 
 her, Mr. Baker." 
 
 " Amen, madam, amen ! He is no more 
 worthy of her than the swine is worthy of 
 the pearl which tradition casts into the sty 
 to typify human squandering." 
 
 " And yet, really, Mr. Baker, there is noth 
 ing definite against him." 
 
 "We must discover something." Baker 
 pressed his thin, nervous lips together and 
 felt of his forehead. At length he tapped it. 
 " I think I appreciate the situation," he said. 
 " As I understand it, there has been as yet no 
 offer of marriage ? " 
 
 " None to my knowledge. Minerva would 
 surely have told me." 
 
 " And you would be pleased to have 
 
288 BY HOOK OH CROOK 
 
 something happen before matters reach a 
 crisis ? " 
 
 " Happen ? " echoed Elizabeth, in a tone 
 of some solicitude, induced by the thought of 
 the sudden disappearance of the signer over 
 a bridge or down a well. 
 
 Mr. Baker was quick to divine her suspi 
 cions. "I mean," he said, with a sweep of 
 his hand, by which he intended to relegate 
 to the winds such base imaginings, " that you 
 would be pleased to have this foreigner by 
 his own agency show himself in his true 
 colors, so that the glamour which now blinds 
 Miss Minerva Blair s eyes may be swept away 
 forever." 
 
 " That would be very nice," said Mrs. 
 Nichols, propitiatingly. 
 
 "I say by his own agency, " continued 
 Mr. Baker, gravely, "for I have taken it for 
 granted that in a transaction of this kind 
 mere newspaper enterprise would be dis 
 tasteful to you. Of course it would be a sim 
 ple matter, and the idea at first struck me as 
 propitious, to manufacture a wife and chil 
 dren for Signor Spazzopalli by special cable 
 gram from Rome. But apart from the du 
 plicity of such a proceeding, which, knowing 
 
BY IIOOK OR CROOK 289 
 
 as I do the views held by you and Mr. Nichols 
 on the proper limits of reportorial activity, I 
 am sure you would refuse to countenance, 
 there is the further consideration, to which 
 you have already referred, of Miss Blair s 
 happiness. In spite of the adage, All is fair 
 in love and war, I should scorn to lower the 
 reputation of this foreigner in her regard by 
 false or dishonest evidence. He must con 
 tribute to his own ruin." 
 
 " I am very much relieved to hear you say 
 so, Mr. Baker. Indeed, it would be utterly 
 impossible for me to allow you to proceed on 
 any other understanding. My desire is to 
 discover any shortcomings which Signor 
 Spazzopalli may have, not to injure him by 
 fabrication. My cousin evidently believes 
 him to be wholly sincere, true, and irre 
 proachable, and my conviction is that she 
 will marry him, unless unless she changes 
 her mind." Elizabeth gave a nervous laugh. 
 " There is the situation, and I must confess 
 that it does not look very promising. Does 
 it?" 
 
 " I consider it far from hopeless. At any 
 rate, Mrs. Nichols, you may feel sure that I 
 will devote myself body and soul to the un- 
 19 
 
290 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 dertaking. You shall hear from me very 
 soon." 
 
 " You are not going already ? " 
 
 " Yes. There is not a moment to be lost. 
 We newspaper men know the importance of 
 keeping our fingers on the forelock of time. 
 Have you a telephone ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Matters may reach a point where a wit 
 ness a witness whose testimony would be 
 entirely convincing to Miss Blair would be 
 indispensable. In such an emergency am I 
 authorized to ring you up ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," said Elizabeth, a little dis 
 concerted. The detective-like determination 
 of her visitor was almost appalling. 
 
 " Good-night," he said, holding out his 
 hand. 
 
 " You have a plan already, I see." 
 
 " I have an idea, but it may end in smoke. 
 Good-night, Mrs. Nichols." 
 
 When he had gone, Elizabeth knew scarcely 
 whether to laugh or to cry. Into what sort 
 of a compact had she entered, and where 
 would it lead her ? To be sure, her fellow- 
 conspirator had pledged himself to do noth 
 ing which would lead her to the gallows or 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 291 
 
 injure her self-respect, but what did she really 
 know about him ? What horrible breach of 
 t;istii might he not commit which would drag 
 her into unpleasant notoriety and wound the 
 sensibilities of her cousin ? There was a pos 
 sibility of that, indeed ; at least she could not 
 claim a sufficient knowledge of Mr. Baker s 
 mental processes and habits to be absolutely 
 sure that he would be discreet. And yet she 
 had entered into the conspiracy with her eyes 
 open, because she was impressed with the 
 idea that if anyone could help her in this 
 quandary he could, and because she believed 
 he could be trusted. As she had told him to 
 his face, his thoughts had freshness and orig 
 inality ; he was not tied down by codes and 
 filigree considerations. Some mode of relief 
 might enter his head which would never enter 
 hers. 
 
 " Tom, Tom," she said to her husband 
 when he came home an hour later, "you may 
 see my picture in the Police Gazette before I 
 am a month older." 
 
 Tom Nichols did not take so serious a view 
 of the situation as this. The idea that his 
 wife had unbosomed herself to Mr. Baker 
 amused him chiefly. He summed up his 
 
292 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 opinion of the case by saying : " After his 
 assurances, I think that you can feel moder 
 ately safe that he will do nothing compromis 
 ing. What I wonder at is your confidence in 
 his ability to find out anything about our mu 
 sical friend. A bogus cablegram might be in 
 his line, but I doubt his capacity." 
 
 " You have always done Mr. Baker injus 
 tice, Tom, merely because he is different from 
 you and me. It is just because he is differ 
 ent that I have such faith in him. After the 
 first glow of reportorial activity he saw the im 
 possibility of the cablegram as fully as I did." 
 
 For the next few days Elizabeth was on 
 tenter-hooks, but no message came from Mr. 
 Baker. She kept her ear constantly on the 
 alert for the telephone-bell, and answered 
 every call in person, only to listen to the 
 butcher or the grocer. On the fourth day 
 came a note signed by him which brought her 
 heart into her mouth, but it was only to tell 
 her that he had secured tickets to see the 
 Strouts for the following week. Not a word 
 on the other matter to which he had vowed 
 to devote himself body and soul. Elizabeth 
 said "Pshaw!" and threw his note into the 
 fire. 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 293 
 
 On the tenth day Mrs. Duncan Seymour, 
 whose husband was absent from town for a 
 few days, dined with them. It was a low 
 ering, oppressive night out-doors, and the 
 weather bureau had issued prophecies of an 
 electrical storm as a sort of midwinter trav 
 esty on summer. 
 
 " I have a new devoted admirer," said Mrs. 
 Seymour in the midst of dinner. " You would 
 never guess Baker. He says he has been 
 bitten by the tarantula of society, and appar 
 ently I am the tarantula personified. He 
 utterly disapproves of me, but can t resist my 
 fascination. Now as for you, my dear," she 
 added, " he admires you unreservedly." 
 
 " Elizabeth has bound herself hand and 
 foot " began Tom, but his wife interject 
 ed a commanding " sh ! " which he felt con 
 strained to obey. 
 
 " This sounds interesting," said Mrs. Sey 
 mour, with an appealing glance at Mr. Nich 
 ols. 
 
 " I positively forbid you to go on, Tom," 
 said Elizabeth. 
 
 Mrs. Seymour looked from one to the other. 
 "There is a mystery here," she said. " He 
 will tell me ; I will hypnotize him if he re- 
 
294 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 fuses. What do you think, Elizabeth ? I have 
 bet him a pair of gloves that Signor Spazzo- 
 palli marries Minerva. He declares it will 
 never be. He is almost violent on the sub 
 ject. One would almost suppose that he 
 knew something definite, so positive is he." 
 
 Mr. Nichols gave a low chuckle. 
 
 "Behave yourself, Tom," said his wife. 
 "Louise," she added, "I wish to change the 
 conversation." 
 
 There were no further allusions to Mr. 
 Baker after dinner, and at ten o clock Mrs. 
 Seymour s carriage was announced. Just 
 then there was a distant but distinct rumble 
 heralding the approach of the storm. 
 
 " Old Prob is right for once," said Tom. 
 " You will just have time, Mrs. Seymour, to 
 get home before the thunder and lightning 
 set in." 
 
 At that instant the telephone - bell rang 
 energetically. 
 
 " Mercy ! " cried Elizabeth. " Who can be 
 calling us up at this hour ? " 
 
 " Perhaps the storm is making the electrical 
 fluid rampant," suggested Mrs. Seymour. 
 
 "Or it may be Mr. Baker," said Tom, 
 facetiously. 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 295 
 
 Ting-a-ling a-ling a-ling began the 
 telephone-bell again. 
 
 At the mention of the word " Baker," Eliza 
 beth darted from the room and dashed down 
 stairs to the instrument. 
 
 "Holloa!" 
 
 " Is that Mrs. Nichols ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I m Mr. Baker. It s very important that 
 you come at once to Leblanc s restaurant. I 
 invite you and Mr. Nichols to supper, and 
 I have every reason to believe that before 
 an hour elapses we shall have won." 
 
 " To-night ! It is going to thunder and 
 lighten." 
 
 " We have been providentially aided by the 
 elements. It is to-night or probably never." 
 
 Women think rapidly when they think at 
 all. Mrs. Nichols remembered that Mrs. 
 Seymour s carriage was at the door, and a 
 sudden impulse seized her. Would it not 
 add sweetness to the possibly impending 
 triumph of Mr. Baker to win his pair of 
 gloves in the presence of her guest ? 
 
 "Mrs. Duncan Seymour is dining with us? 
 May I bring her too ? " 
 
 " By all means." 
 
296 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 " "We ll come at once then." 
 
 " Tom," she said, turning to her husband 
 and Mrs. Seymour, who had been lured by 
 curiosity half-way down the back stairs, 
 " we re to take supper to-night at Leblanc s 
 restaurant with Mr. Baker. You too, Louise. 
 He has just invited us." 
 
 " Now this is what I call damnably excit 
 ing exciting and shrouded in mystery," said 
 Mrs. Seymour. 
 
 "To-night! Are you crazy, my dear?" 
 asked her husband. "Drag us out in this 
 storm ? " 
 
 "I am going, Tom," said Elizabeth, firmly. 
 
 " And I am going, Mr. Nichols," said Mrs. 
 Seymour. 
 
 " Then there is no help for me but to go 
 too," said he. 
 
 Within five minutes they were in Mrs. 
 Seymour s carriage on the way to Leblanc s, 
 which was only a short distance from the 
 house. It had not begun to rain, biit the 
 sky was lurid with the approaching storm 
 and the thunder was getting vehement. Mrs. 
 Seymour sought explanation by a question 
 or two, but Elizabeth sat tongue-tied. As 
 their vehicle stopped at the entrance Mr. 
 
BY HOOK OH CROOK 297 
 
 Baker opened the carriage-door, and with 
 merely a word of greeting led the way past 
 the public restaurant upstairs into a private 
 room. The table was laid for four. 
 
 " We have been providentially aided by 
 the elements," he repeated in a whisper to 
 Elizabeth as he helped her to remove her 
 wraps. "Does she know ? " 
 
 "Nothing. Are you going to win the 
 gloves ? " 
 
 " I believe so. He is there," he added, 
 nodding at the wall. 
 
 " Spazzopalli ? In the next room ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 What could it mean? Elizabeth felt ex 
 cited but dazed. Mrs. Seymour glanced 
 around her with a curious smile. As for 
 Tom, he promptly obeyed Mr. Baker s in 
 vitation to sit down and partake of the 
 tempting viands which were set before them. 
 
 " You will pardon me," said their host, " if 
 I am unable to give you my individual atten 
 tion. You will know why presently." 
 
 " We can t imagine what this is all about," 
 said Tom. " Can we, Mrs. Seymour ? But 
 these oysters look very good, even if I did 
 not cook them." 
 
298 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 Mr. Baker had vanished into what seemed 
 to be a closet in the side of the room adjoin 
 ing that in which he had declared Signer 
 Spazzopalli to be. He popped out his head 
 several times by way of keeping the eye of 
 courtesy on his guests, and disappeared 
 promptly again after a few solicitous in 
 quiries. Tom was the only one of the trio 
 who was able to eat. Mrs. Nichols s appetite 
 was ruined by excited anticipation, Mrs. 
 Seymour s by burning curiosity. The thun 
 der-storm had broken, and it was audibly 
 raining torrents, while every few moments 
 the lightning, closely followed by a crashing 
 peal, was so unusual as to attract even their 
 absorbed attention. 
 
 Mr. Baker peeped from the door again. 
 " Mrs. Nichols," he said, " will you come this 
 way ? Only Mrs. Nichols," he was obliged 
 to add, for Mrs. Seymour rose also, and Tom 
 looked inquisitive. 
 
 "With a tripping heart Elizabeth obeyed 
 orders. She found herself in a small com 
 partment lighted by a single jet. It was 
 evidently designed to serve as a pantry to 
 either or both rooms, for there was a dumb 
 waiter in one end and a counter along the 
 
BY IIOOK OR CROOK 299 
 
 wall. In the middle of the wall over the 
 counter was an aperture guarded by a slide. 
 The slide was now only partially drawn so 
 as to afford a glimpse of the other room. 
 On the counter was a large black box which 
 Mr. Baker pushed to one side as she entered. 
 " Look through the hole," he whispered. 
 
 To do so Elizabeth was obliged to stoop. 
 What she saw was a man and a woman 
 seated at a table at supper. The man was 
 Signor Spazzopalli. He was bending de 
 votedly toward the woman with the air of 
 one bent upon ingratiating himself. The 
 woman was extremely pretty and piquant, 
 suggesting by both her air and costume an 
 actress. Somehow it seemed to Elizabeth 
 that she had seen her before. 
 
 "Do you recognize her?" whispered Mr. 
 Baker. 
 
 A sudden intuition seized Elizabeth. " Ma- 
 retta ! " she gasped. 
 
 Mr. Baker nodded delightedly. He deftly 
 closed the slide to render conversation less 
 hazardous, though, as subsequently appeared, 
 the waiter who was serving the supper had 
 received instructions to approach the slide 
 now and then when in the room in order 
 
300 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 to give the impression that it was in actual 
 use. 
 
 " He is desperately enamoured of her." 
 
 "And she with him?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it. The idea came to me 
 when I was at your house the other evening, 
 and I went straight to her hotel the next 
 morning, where I found her alone. Ma- 
 retta, said I, I loved you sincerely, and 
 tried to make you Mrs. Irving K. Baker. 
 The professor cut me out. I have come in 
 the name of auld laiig-syne to ask you a 
 great favor. A young friend of mine, a 
 beautiful young lady, is in the thrall of a 
 spaghetti-eating Italian, and I need your 
 aid. Tell me all about it, she said, and I 
 did. She got her husband s permission, and 
 here she is." 
 
 " I do not quite understand," said Elizabeth. 
 
 "She wrote to him and led him to believe 
 that she was fascinated by his manly form 
 and mellifluous voice. He nibbled at the 
 bait, and here we have him. Don t give 
 yourself any concern on the score of propri 
 ety, Mrs. Nichols," he added, noting a cloudy 
 look on Elizabeth s brow, " Maretta is spot 
 less as an angel. She accepted his invitation 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 301 
 
 to supper only after consultation with me. 
 He means mischief, though." 
 
 " And what are you going to do now that 
 you have them here ? " 
 
 Mr. Baker tapped his black box signifi 
 cantly. 
 
 " You will see in a minute. You invite 
 your husband and Mrs. Seymour to witness 
 the finale, if you like," he said, opening the 
 slide cautiously to its full capacity. 
 
 Just then there came a glare of lightning 
 fiercer than its fellows, and a crash of thun 
 der which shook the building. 
 
 "Oh my!" exclaimed Maretta, in genuine 
 dismay. 
 
 " It is she, sure enough," murmured Eliz 
 abeth. "How handsome she has grown to 
 be ! Eeally, Mr. Baker, you must tell me 
 what you mean by all this." 
 
 " Tell the others while I get ready. This 
 storm shows that Providence is in league 
 with us." 
 
 Elizabeth stepped into the room and beck 
 oned to the others. 
 
 " You have been infernally cruel," said 
 Mrs. Seymour. "I am critically ill with 
 suppressed curiosity." 
 
302 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 "When they entered the closet Mr. Baker 
 had filled up more than half the aperture 
 with the black box, into which he was peer 
 ing after the manner of a photographer. 
 There was still a vacant hole, however, 
 through which Tom and Mrs. Seymour 
 looked. 
 
 " The villain ! " whispered Mrs. Seymour. 
 " I have seen him gaze into Minerva s face 
 like that a dozen times. This is confound 
 edly perfidious. Who is she ? " 
 
 " Yes, who is she ? " asked Tom. " I ad 
 mire the brute s taste, anyway." 
 
 " Sh ! Can t you tell ? It is Almeda, the 
 Georgian beauty, alias Maretta Strout." 
 
 Tom gave a low whistle. 
 
 " Mrs. Nichols," said Mr. Baker, rising 
 from the squatting posture in which he had 
 been peering into his box, " please take your 
 husband s place, and when you and Mrs. 
 Seymour see anything particularly edifying, 
 say ( Now. If you, Mr. Nichols, will hold 
 this pan of combustibles, and when your 
 wife gives the word, touch it off with this 
 taper, I ll attend to the rest. To do the 
 trick successfully we must all act together. 
 That s right," he added, as another flash of 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 303 
 
 lightning interrupted him ; " the more of 
 that the better for us." 
 
 Mrs. Nichols took her place in silence be 
 side Mrs. Seymour. It was obvious now to 
 her what was going to happen. 
 
 Spazzopalli and Maretta had finished eat 
 ing, and he was talking to her with an in- 
 tenser manner, now and again raising his 
 glass of champagne and pledging her ardent 
 ly. She sat demure, with a playful smile on 
 her lips ; only once she shot a glance toward 
 the ambush, as though to ask how much 
 longer the corned} was to last. 
 
 " The monster ! " murmured Mrs. Sey 
 mour. " He must catch one of those fiery 
 love-sick glances. He looked just like that 
 when he sang Non e ver to Minerva." 
 
 Mrs. Nichols sat very still. Though she 
 was half conscious that she disapproved of 
 the whole proceeding, there was a deep fas 
 cination in the duty which had been imposed 
 upon her, and an inclination to carry it out 
 as completely as possible. She watched the 
 couple with lynx-like scrutiny, intent to note 
 every change of Spazzopalli s expression. If 
 her cousin was to be avenged or disillusion 
 ized in this strange manner, the blow must 
 
304 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 be struck deftly and artistically. Thrice 
 Mrs. Seymour nudged her as some fresh 
 glance or gesture was manifested, but she 
 did not yet feel satisfied. Meantime the 
 fury of the storm waxed, and ever and again 
 vivid flashes of lightning, of which at least 
 one of the pair at the supper-table seemed 
 wholly regardless, came in from the night. 
 
 Suddenly, as though the demure smiling 
 calm of the woman had maddened him, 
 Spazzopalli leaned forward across the nar 
 row table and caught Maretta s hands in his. 
 For an instant she struggled, then either ap 
 preciating the advantages of the situation, or 
 realizing that the firm grasp of his long fin 
 gers was not to be frustrated, she remained 
 passive, and smiled back at him languorous 
 ly. Lured by his success and her demeanor, 
 he leaned forward to bring his lips close to 
 hers. Just as they seemed to touch, and 
 with Mrs. Seymour s " He is going to kiss 
 her ! " still in her ears, Elizabeth, in a tense 
 voice, said " Now ! " and quick as thought 
 there was a vivid flare of light, which sug 
 gested for a moment to those inside the 
 closet that Vesuvius was let loose, and 
 caused Spazzopalli to leap to his feet in the 
 
HE WAS TALKING TO HER WITH AN INTENSER MANNER 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 305 
 
 belief that the house had been struck by 
 lightning. The smoke which followed the 
 glare by which the flash-light photograph 
 was obtained concealed everything for a mo 
 ment from Elizabeth, but she heard distinct 
 ly Maretta s " Oh my ! " which even fore 
 knowledge of what was to happen and the 
 consciousness of her Georgian nationality 
 could not repress. When she could see, 
 Spazzopalli had opened the door and was 
 calling, loudly : " Garcon ! gargon ! The 
 lightning is in the house ! " 
 
 Before the summons was answered, Mr. 
 Baker had noiselessly closed the slide and 
 opened the closet door. 
 
 " If you will step into the room," he said, 
 " I shall be able in a few minutes to tell you 
 if the flash-light photograph is a success." 
 
 Tom and his wife and Mrs. Seymour 
 obeyed orders, and Mr. Baker shut himself 
 up again in the closet to make the necessary 
 investigation. 
 
 " Well, of all extraordinary performances, 
 that is the masterpiece," burst out Tom. "I 
 don t quite know whether to throttle Baker 
 as a sneak, or to applaud him as a genius." 
 
 " I think it was very clever of him," said 
 20 
 
306 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 Mrs. Seymour, promptly. "The signor de 
 served to be shown up if ever man did. The 
 false, hypocritical villain ! When 1 think of 
 Minerva I feel like crying. Mr. Baker did 
 nothing, Mr. Nichols, but put temptation in 
 his way, and if a man who pretends to be in 
 love with one woman throws her oter for an 
 other, why shouldn t he be photographed and 
 branded as a faithless wretch ? Don t you 
 think so, Elizabeth?" 
 
 Mrs. Nichols had seated herself at the dis 
 mantled supper-table, and, buried in pensive 
 thought, was spearing the same oyster over 
 and over again. She did not answer, and 
 before Mrs. Seymour had time to repeat her 
 question, Mr. Baker reappeared with a radi 
 ant countenance. 
 
 " It is perfect ! " he cried. " You caught 
 him, Mrs. Nichols, at exactly the right mo 
 ment. I congratulate you heartily ; and, 
 Mrs. Seymour, you owe me a pair of gloves." 
 
 "What makes you think she does?" asked 
 Elizabeth, coldly, making another thrust at 
 the mangled oyster. 
 
 "Because when Miss Blair confronts Si 
 gnor Spazzopalli with this photograph, I 
 assure you that he will renounce any matri- 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 307 
 
 monial expectations which he now enter 
 tains," said the reporter, blithely. 
 
 " And who is to confront Miss Blair with 
 it?" 
 
 "You, of course, Elizabeth," said Mrs. 
 Seymour at once. 
 
 " I took it for granted that you would do 
 that, Mrs. Nichols," said Mr. Baker, in a tone 
 of surprise. " But if you think I ought 
 to- 
 
 " If anyone does it, it will be I," said Eliz 
 abeth, interrupting him almost fiercely. " I 
 must ask you, Mr. Baker, as a particular 
 favor, never to breathe a word to her on the 
 subject to her or to anyone else." 
 
 " I shall obey your directions implicitly," 
 said Mr. Baker, with a sweeping bow. "I 
 have tried to please you, Mrs. Nichols, and 
 to live up to the spirit of our compact. If I 
 have failed to satisfy you I am very sorry." 
 
 Elizabeth blushed deeply. It was at the 
 word " compact." But the pathetic solici 
 tude of his tone awakened her sense of jus 
 tice. She put out her hand and said, " Good 
 night, Mr. Baker ; you have been extremely 
 kind and and ingenious, and if matters 
 have taken a somewhat different turn than I 
 
308 BY HOOK OR CROOK 
 
 expected, it is only I who am to blame. 
 Good-night." 
 
 Mr. Baker looked a little nonplussed. 
 " And the photograph ? " he said. " It would 
 be a very simple matter to destroy it, and no 
 one would be the wiser. Maretta might pos 
 sibly be disappointed, but I could tell her it 
 was a failure." 
 
 " Destroy it ? " cried Mrs. Seymour ; " and 
 let the infernal villain escape after all ? 
 Never ! I wish one, at any rate, if only as a 
 memento of the faithlessness of man." 
 
 Mrs. Nichols smiled a tired smile. " I 
 shall expect you to send me the photograph 
 as soon as possible, and to me only," she re 
 plied, with quiet dignity. " Come, Tom." 
 
 " Thank you very much," said Mr. Baker. 
 "I am sure Maretta won t mind." 
 
 Two days later the photograph reached 
 Mrs. Nichols at the breakfast-table, and on 
 the following day Signer Spazzopalli left 
 town. Society declared that he had been 
 amusing himself with Miss Minerva Blair, 
 and that he had gone away without offering 
 himself to her. Society, feeling sure that 
 this was so, gave a passing shrug of the 
 
BY HOOK OR CROOK 309 
 
 shoulders, and forgot the affair before twenty- 
 four hours had passed. Mrs. Duncan Sey 
 mour, however, was not so well off as society, 
 in that she felt doubts on the subject but 
 knew nothing. She compared notes with 
 Mr. Irving K. Baker with unsatisfactory re 
 sults. It appeared that Mrs. Nichols had not 
 seen fit to inform either of them whether she 
 had shown Minerva the photograph or not. 
 Tom Nichols declared to his wife in the 
 bosom of his family that this was fitting 
 enough so far as Mrs. Seymour was con 
 cerned, but seemed rather severe on the 
 author and originator of it all. But Eliza 
 beth shook her head, and said : 
 
 " Irving K. Baker shah 1 never know. You 
 left it to me to decide whether to tell Mi 
 nerva or not, and I mean to keep him won 
 dering all the days of his life as to what 
 really happened." 
 
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