Dr. Dale 
 
 na 
 
 BY MARION HARLAND & 
 ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE 
 
 ____>m___WM<*>*W<
 
 Dr. Dale
 
 DR. DALE 
 
 A Story without a Moral 
 
 By 
 
 Marion Harland 
 
 and 
 
 Albert Payson Terhune 
 
 New York 
 
 Dodd, Mead and Company 
 1900
 
 Copyright, igoo 
 BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS JOHN WILSON 
 AND SON CAMBRIDGE, U. 8. A,
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE Two PARSONS i 
 
 II. 'Twixx FIRE AND FLOOD n 
 
 III. IN THE DOCTOR'S SANCTUM 17 
 
 IV. THE MIDDLE Miss MEAGLEY 30 
 
 V. MYRTLE BELL 42 
 
 VI. "AFTER ALL THESE BLACK YEARS 1 ' ... 52 
 
 VII. REV. C. MATHER WELSH ; 66 
 
 VIII. "OUR LADY OF PEACE" 82 
 
 IX. SANDY MCALPIN 94 
 
 X. " LENORE " 106 
 
 XI. THE MEAGLEYS AT HOME 123 
 
 XII. "THE SOUL OF A MAN" 138 
 
 XIII. AT THE MOATED WELL 149 
 
 XIV. "THE RUTH" SPEAKS 162 
 
 XV. AT DINNER WITH THE FOLGERS 170 
 
 XVI. SOCIALISM AND SONG 181 
 
 XVII. A BRACE OF SURPRISES 193 
 
 XVIII. " So HELP ME, GOD !" 205 
 
 XIX. "LOVE! MY LOVE!" 215 
 
 XX. THE WOMAN IN BLACK 230 
 
 XXI. THE ELECTRIC STORM 244
 
 vi Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXII. "THE RUTH" AT MIDNIGHT 255 
 
 XXIII. THE PASSING OF RALPH FOLGER .... 267 
 
 XXIV. IN THE LIBRARY 279 
 
 XXV. UNDER THE SNOW 289 
 
 XXVI. CORONER KRUGER 301 
 
 XXVII. DOGBERRY IN THE CHAIR 312 
 
 XXVIII. MRS. BOWERSOX TAKES THE STAND . . . 324 
 
 XXIX. THE COMMITTAL 339 
 
 XXX. THE " PREFERRED " PRISONER 348 
 
 XXXI. AGAINST ORDERS 358 
 
 XXXII. MR. WELSH PAYS HIS DEBT . . . . . 370 
 
 XXXIII. A SHEAF OF MEMORIES 382 
 
 XXXIV. OBITER DICTA 392
 
 DR. DALE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE TWO PARSONS 
 
 "Argument, as usually managed, is the worst sort of conversation, 
 as it is generally in books the worst sort of reading." 
 
 SIX years before the January night that marks 
 the beginning of this story, the scene of it was 
 a prosperous farming district, pleasant, and 
 not lacking in picturesqueness. The nearest 
 railway was three miles from the heart of the 
 township ; a creek, not more than a hundred feet 
 wide at any point, when not swollen by winter rains, 
 wound leisurely between low hills covered with wheat 
 and corn fields. From the top of this range one 
 saw on every hand the substantial homes and well- 
 tilled acres of " Pennsylvania Dutch " farmers. Gray 
 stone houses with hip-roofs were flanked by big red 
 barns, clustering straw-stacks, and thrifty apple- 
 orchards. Each farm had its belt or square or 
 parallelogram of woodland ; clumps of elms, maples, 
 and water-willows darkened the pools and check- 
 ered the sunny shallows of the creek. Peace, with 
 modest abundance, was the presiding spirit of the 
 whole. Blue undulations upon the southeastern hori- 
 zon were the outposts of the mountains guard- 
 ing the happy valley from the invasion of Eastern 
 progress. 
 
 In the " hard winter " of the year upon which we 
 are about to enter, snow had overlapped snow from 
 
 i
 
 2 Dr. Dale 
 
 month to month. Since New Year's Day the ice- 
 fringe of the eaves had not dripped ; all hauling to 
 and from town was done by ox and mule sleds ; the 
 surface of the creek was like black marble. 
 
 At nine o'clock on the evening of the sixth of 
 January, a man, alighting from the caboose of a 
 freight-train at the Pitvale station, was greeted by 
 the station-agent with 
 
 " Another rip-snorter, Mr. Bell ! Four below ! 
 'T will be ten by morning." 
 
 " Maybe not, Mr. Hopper. Always hope for the 
 best ! Good-night ! " 
 
 The " Good-night " was called back over his 
 shoulder. He had not broken the stride that had 
 landed him on the platform. The smart strokes of 
 his heels upon the boards of the sidewalk were like 
 the ring of metal upon metal. The planks were 
 heaved from the level by the frost into choppy 
 ridges; here and there one was missing. Heeding 
 the gaps which endangered unwary passengers, the 
 pedestrian reflected that there would be more and 
 wider holes before anybody found time to mend 
 them. The spur of railway laid from the main line 
 three miles away to the newly born town was, like 
 everything else pertaining to the w-settlement 
 aforesaid, hastily constructed, a makeshift in the 
 emergency thrust upon men consumed by one over- 
 mastering passion, the lust for sudden riches. 
 
 Station and freight-house were huge sheds; the 
 rows of buildings facing the streets crooking away 
 from the railway terminus at every conceivable angle, 
 were, in that part of the town, little better than hovels, 
 one story high, knocked together like so many 
 wooden boxes. The rudely paved streets, seamed 
 by wheels and broken by hoofs, showed darkly by 
 contrast with the heaps and walls of snow fencing 
 the sidewalks.
 
 The Two Parsons 
 
 Upon the rising ground beyond the body of the 
 town, and up and down the creek in all directions, 
 arose what might have been mistaken in the moon- 
 light for the masts of a mighty fleet, so numerous 
 and so closely crowded together were the derricks 
 advertising the reason of the town's being, and the 
 fountains of wealth unsealed to those who had flocked 
 thither since the first well was sunk, a scant six years 
 ago, in the most humdrum district within an area of 
 five hundred miles. 
 
 They told the whole story punctuating the valley 
 with hundreds of exclamation-points, startling in 
 their number and in their hideousness, obstructing 
 the view of the heavens when one looked up, black- 
 ening the reeking soil where the snow refused to lie, 
 and where grass and grain would never grow again. 
 Crude oil was the freight of the big-bellied cylinders 
 loading long lines of cars lumbering over the badly 
 ballasted railway; iron veins, above and below the 
 oozing soil, pulsed with thick greenish-yellow fluid 
 to be transmuted in distant refineries into gold for 
 the coffers of well-owners and into living light for 
 a continent. 
 
 The tall pedestrian met few other wayfarers as he 
 forged along the lower streets. Business offices 
 were closed for the night, and nobody braved the 
 intense cold who could stay in-doors. " Well-work " 
 in Pitvale was over with the going down of the sun. 
 This was not mercy, but expediency. The Great 
 Product was too hasty of temper to be tempted by 
 lamp and torch. Over-hours had come to be asso- 
 ciated in the minds of owners and operatives with 
 expensive accidents. 
 
 At a sharp turn of the thoroughfare the scene 
 became more animated. Board walks were wider 
 and more substantial; houses of two and three 
 stories took the place of the hovels. The ground
 
 4 Dr. Dale 
 
 floor of each was a shop, a restaurant, a drinking- 
 saloon, or some place of alleged amusement. The 
 two sides of the way on every block suggested to 
 a quick imagination a double row of irregular teeth, 
 here a stump, there a gap, then a group of artificial 
 incisors, bicuspids or molars, upright and glaring, fresh 
 from the dentist's hands. Street lamps, dusky red in 
 the moonbeams, burned at the corners and over and 
 behind shop-fronts. Gaudy placards, illustrating the 
 attractions of a hippodrome, covered a twenty-foot 
 board fence separating two shop-fronts ; a show of 
 " canned goods " in a grocer's window was in the 
 shape of a derrick, surmounted by a kerosene lamp 
 and labelled THE WELL THAT NEVER FAILS. A 
 seventh-rate blood-and-thunder melodrama was on 
 at THE ONE AND ONLY PITVALE OPERA HOUSE, 
 duly puffed by crimson and black head-lines a foot 
 long, and life-size purple and green human figures 
 on the posters papering the outer walls. 
 
 A brick building, broader and taller than its 
 neighbours, was gorgeous with coloured lights project- 
 ing from the window-sills of the first and second 
 stories. The lunette over the front door was filled 
 by a " transparency," brilliantly illuminated. In the 
 background a derrick arose blackly against a bloody 
 sunset. In the foreground Boniface, in white and 
 gold doublet, cap and plume, offered a long-necked 
 goblet brimming with magenta wine to a working- 
 man in grimy shirt and trousers. Beneath, COME 
 AS YOU ARE, DIRTY OR CLEAN! flamed in scarlet. 
 Upon a plate-glass window of the ground floor was 
 lettered, in gilt, THE OILMAN'S REST. A red cur- 
 tain was drawn across the lower sash. Relieved by 
 this, the legend glowed like fire, each letter being 
 heavily gilded in outline, leaving a hollow space to 
 be filled by the scarlet of the curtain. The conceit 
 was ingenious, the effect striking.
 
 The Two Parsons 
 
 Our pedestrian was abreast of the window when 
 he espied something unusual out of the tail of his 
 eye, and wheeled to face it. Across the word REST 
 was a wide chalk-mark ; below it was printed in bold 
 capitals, " CURSE ! ! ! " 
 
 With a mutter of impatient disgust, John Bell 
 whipped his handkerchief from his pocket and 
 rubbed out the chalked letters. 
 
 " You 're consistent, at any rate ! " 
 
 The snarl sounded from under Bell's elbow. He 
 turned to face a man who was eying the besmeared 
 sign with strong disfavour. 
 
 Seen in the glare of the illuminated window, the 
 speaker was a trifle over five feet tall and looked 
 shorter. The two upper buttons were missing from 
 a shabby overcoat, revealing a strait-breasted waist- 
 coat and a white wisp of a cravat. His face was 
 narrow and keen, nor did the sandy side-whiskers 
 relieve its ferret-like look. His sharp nose was blue 
 with cold ; above it pale eyes glowered waterily. 
 
 " Good-evening, Mr. Welsh," said Bell, civilly. 
 " Did you speak to me? " 
 
 " As you are the only living being besides myself 
 on this block, you may suppose that I did," answered 
 the little man. "And I was commenting on your con- 
 sistency in rubbing out a word that might deter some 
 weak brother from entering this den of iniquity." 
 
 " Whoever chalked that word there," Bell urged 
 patiently, " was defacing another man's property. 
 He had no right moral or legal to do it. I 
 rubbed it off just as I should expect you or any one 
 else to remove an unsightly nuisance from my own 
 window, or " 
 
 " Or from a window of The Bachelors' Club," 
 finished the Rev. C. Mather Welsh, ranging him- 
 self alongside of the larger man as the latter moved 
 on up the street.
 
 6 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Or from a window of The Bachelors' Club," 
 assented Bell, in perfect gravity. 
 
 " And why not? " went on Welsh, galled at failing 
 to arouse the other to argument. " After all, you 
 were only doing what one saloon-keeper might be 
 expected to do for another." 
 
 " Saloon-keeper? " with a surprised intonation, 
 
 " I mean it ! I know that The Bachelors' Club 
 goes by another name, and that you and Dr. Dale 
 dispense liquor under the guise of philanthropy. 
 To a plain man like myself it is hard to discriminate 
 between " 
 
 The rest of the sentence was lost in a babel of 
 voices. Both clergymen stopped and glanced back. 
 The door of The Oilman's Rest was burst open, and 
 four men, locked in a drunken grapple, reeled out 
 upon the sidewalk, slipped over the edge, and fell, 
 a squirming, bellicose, blasphemous heap, into the 
 frozen slush of the street. 
 
 " Between The Oilman's Rest and The Bachelors' 
 Club, you were going to say?" suggested Bell, 
 walking on. 
 
 Welsh glared upward in silence at the rough- 
 ulstered shoulder, swinging back and forth, fully 
 three inches above his head. He swallowed twice 
 audibly before attempting to reply. 
 
 " Sophistry can never triumph in the long run. 
 Brother Bell," he said, at last, with a stiff effort at 
 dignity. " Your Club may not have scenes of that 
 sort. If I am rightly informed, there are rules and 
 regulations that maintain an appearance of order. 
 One is, nevertheless, as corrupt as the other." 
 
 Bell smiled with the amused tolerance of a calm 
 big dog for an angry poodle, a smile that irritated 
 Welsh as a blow would not have done. 
 
 " You may laugh as you please ! " he gurgled. " It 
 is no laughing matter to me, or to such as I. I have
 
 The Two P arsons 
 
 laboured diligently in this vineyard rightly named 
 Pitvale for over three years. I have borne the 
 heat and the burden of the day. I have battled with 
 the demon Rum as as Hermes of old with the 
 Python - 
 
 " Pardon me ! Hercules, I think it was ? With the 
 Hydra? Mythology gives it nine heads. The middle 
 head was immortal. Intemperance has fifty heads. 
 Your figure is just, Mr. Welsh. Your work is 
 zealous and noble. Your energy is untiring " 
 
 " And what has been my reward?" Welsh's dog- 
 trot kept him up with Bell's strides. As he ha- 
 rangued he laid his head perkily upon his shoulder 
 to train his eyes upon the other's face. " As I was 
 on the point of crushing out rum-shops and gin-mills 
 with an iron hand, cutting off the monster's head 
 with the sword of the Lord and of Gideon, you and 
 your Dr. Dale induce the young millionaire you 
 have infatuated with your arts to build this so-called 
 Bachelors' Club where beer is actually kept on 
 tap" 
 
 His wind went out in a snort. 
 
 " It is very good beer, Mr. Welsh, the purest 
 money can buy." 
 
 " It is the drink of perdition, sir ! " snapped Welsh. 
 " It steals men's brains ; it damns men's souls ! " 
 
 " So will black coffee and strong tea, if drunk to 
 excess. You should have heard Dr. Dale's lecture 
 to our operatives' wives in the Club Hall last week, 
 upon tea-topers," interposed Bell, obstinately good- 
 humoured. 
 
 Welsh's snap was a splutter; he stamped as he 
 walked. 
 
 " Have a care, Brother Bell ! oh, have a care what 
 you say and do! It is a grave matter for a minister 
 of the everlasting Gospel to set a stumbling-block in 
 the way of helpless souls. The very men I hoped to
 
 8 Dr. Dale 
 
 convert have joined your Club. They go further. 
 They attend your church on Sabbath morning and 
 take part in your so-called ' service of song' in the 
 Club Hall on Sabbath evening, passing my church- 
 door on their way. And what do you give them in 
 place of the bread of life? Music by the band an 
 infidel at the organ a pretty little sermon upon 
 cleanliness " 
 
 " In heart and in life ! " interjected Bell. 
 
 The orator fumed on, as if he had not spoken. 
 
 " You lure them to drown soul and body in that 
 devil's broth beer ! Beware, I say, my young 
 brother ! ' Them that were entering in ye hin- 
 dered ! ' ' Woe unto him by whom the offence 
 cometh ! ' ' Woe unto him that putteth the cup 
 to his neighbour's lips ! ' ' Woe unto them that are 
 at ease in Zion ; that prophesy smooth things ! ' " 
 
 "There is another text," put in Bell, as a gust 
 of wind, swirling around the corner, bearing in its 
 eddies a thousand icy needles, dashed into Welsh's 
 face, choking him with his own volley of Scriptural 
 quotations, " one that strikes me as almost as 
 pertinent, just here, as any you have cited. It has 
 to do with judging another's deeds and motives. 
 You may recall it? " 
 
 " Heaven forbid that I should judge any man ! " 
 Welsh's watery eyes were turned upward in humil- 
 ity none the less ludicrous because utterly sincere. 
 " Far be it from me to judge you, or even one whom 
 I firmly believe to be your tempter in the down- 
 ward road. To his own Master let him stand or fall. 
 I do not forget that Michael the archangel brought 
 no railing accusation against that Master. I come to 
 you as one who would not bear the sword in vain 
 to remonstrate in a spirit of truth and love against 
 this mistaken idea of yours ; this device that leads 
 young men to ruin, that fills drunkards' graves,
 
 The Two Parsons 
 
 that desolates happy homes. You meet my well- 
 meant appeal with flippant sophistry ! " The little 
 man's voice broke in something like a sob. " I have 
 borne testimony against this abominable thing 
 which my soul hates. I have nothing more to 
 say." 
 
 " But / have ! " said Bell, seriously and kindly. 
 " Much more. I give you full credit, Mr. Welsh, for 
 what you have done, for what you are doing, for the 
 poor, the ignorant, the stupid, and the vicious in 
 our community. I may not agree with you as to 
 methods, but I believe yours are well-meant. Can't 
 you have the same faith in mine? You have picked 
 up a lot of unfounded rumours about our Club and 
 accept them as true. Won't you judge of us for 
 yourself ? I am on my way there now. Come 
 with me, and see things without prejudice. You 
 shall go through restaurant, halls, kitchen, bath- 
 rooms, and cellar. You shall see who are there, and 
 just what they are saying and doing. I promise you 
 a cordial welcome. Have a look at our library, our 
 music-room, our gymnasium " 
 
 "And at your billiard-room and bar, I suppose?" 
 " Certainly ! " assented Bell, in all good faith. 
 " A billiard-room where there is no betting. A bar 
 although we don't call it that where nothing 
 stronger is kept than beer that has passed an honest 
 inspector ; where not a drop is sold to any man who 
 is under the influence of liquor, or whose record 
 kept in our ledgers shows that he is disposed to 
 take more than his head can bear. You will find 
 a quiet, orderly, contented crowd, seated in the outer 
 room, chatting over pipes and beer, playing back- 
 gammon or draughts or chess. We will have a 
 cup of the best coffee made in Pitvale our cook is 
 capital ! I don't drink beer, but I should like to 
 have you taste it and "
 
 io Dr. Dale 
 
 " How dare you ! " gasped Welsh, stopping short, 
 his high, thin voice rising into a treble squeal, his 
 whole body quivering with rage. " How dare you ! 
 I had looked for indifference for disregard of my 
 solemn appeal. But a deliberate insult like this ! " 
 
 He turned on his heel and stamped away, the 
 frozen boards squeaking and crackling under his 
 furious tread. 
 
 John Bell stood staring after him for a moment 
 in open-mouthed amazement. 
 
 " What, in the name of common-sense, have I done 
 now?" he said, aloud. "I thought we were getting 
 on famously ! " 
 
 He squared his shoulders and gave his stalwart 
 frame the impatient shake by which a Newfoundland 
 frees his coat of clinging drops after a dip in muddy 
 water, then swung himself at a quicker gait up the 
 street.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 'TWIXT FIRE AND FLOOD 
 
 " Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell ; 
 Then shrieked the timid and stood still the brave ; 
 Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, 
 As eager to anticipate their grave." 
 
 infant oil-industry of Pitvale had just 
 passed its second summer when the first 
 black cross was set over against one of the 
 as yet few pages of its history. The 
 Jaynesville dam, built across the creek 
 about four miles " up the country," broke after a 
 fortnight of heavy November rains. A solid wall 
 of water toppled over upon the lowlands, filling the 
 valley half-way up to the rim of the girdling hills 
 with turbid, yeasty waves. 
 
 Before the terrified inhabitants of the growing 
 town could appreciate the gravity of the disaster 
 already upon them, it was followed by a second 
 and a more frightful. Chasing the racing current 
 in the bed of the creek ran a sinuous belt of fire, 
 leaping, licking, lashing, like fiery whips, at the 
 floating objects jumbled together by the rush of the 
 flood. Cottages wrenched from their foundations, 
 the roofs and beams of larger buildings, some 
 of them covered with clinging human forms, hay- 
 ricks, waggons, bodies of drowned horses, cows, 
 sheep, and calves all seen with horrible distinctness 
 by the flare of the burning oil, were swept past the 
 spectators on the banks, themselves powerless to aid 
 the sufferers. The sky was hidden by volumes of 
 pitchy smoke, the stench of the liberated gas and 
 the hot petroleum was stifling. The screams of
 
 12 Dr. Dale 
 
 those who cried vainly for help, the weeping of those 
 who could not give it, the shrieks of women and 
 the shouts of men, arose above the hoarse roar of 
 flood and flame. Rescue-parties in small boats were 
 caught in the swirling torrent, or driven back to 
 shore by smoke and heat ; two boats were capsized 
 and all on board drowned. Men swam ashore to 
 die in the arms that dragged them out, suffocated 
 by crude oil, or charred by the fire ; women and 
 children were burned alive almost within reach of 
 land. 
 
 Ralph Folger, the richest well-owner in the district, 
 had had built for his own use, and sent to Pitvale, 
 but two days before the freshet, a large row-boat, 
 sheathed with copper. It lay upon the slope of the 
 meadows just above the reach of the water, awaiting 
 the orders of the absent owner. John Bell had been 
 for three years the popular pastor of the venerable 
 stone church now within the town limits. When he 
 called to four men who had kept enough of their 
 senses to comprehend an order, to help him launch 
 the craft, he was obeyed with alacrity. When he 
 leaped into the boat, seized a pair of oars, and asked 
 for volunteers in the work of rescuing the struggling 
 wretches in mid-stream, but one came forward. This 
 was a Scotchman of herculean build, whose sturdy 
 attachment to " the Dominie " would not let him lag 
 behind his chief. 
 
 " Ah, McAlpin ! " said Bell, cheerily, as the giant 
 walked to the stern, apparently as unperturbed as 
 if engaged for a summer sail, " I was counting upon 
 you. We '11 try it alone if nobody else will go." 
 
 A third man a stranger to all there disen- 
 gaged himself from the agitated crowd. 
 
 " Will you let me go with you ? " he said com- 
 posedly. " I am a fair oarsman, to say nothing of 
 having little to lose."
 
 Fire and Flood 13 
 
 It was not a moment for explanation or ceremony. 
 The three men pulled straight for the channel where 
 human figures, singly and in groups, were struggling 
 like drowning ants, catching wildly at planks, logs, 
 the bodies of dead beasts whatever promised the 
 chance of escape, however slender. 
 
 One, two, three, were overtaken by the rowers and 
 dragged into the boat, a man who held a woman's 
 head above the yellow viscidity of the oil; a boy 
 who was sinking for the third time ; a child that 
 wailed feebly from the bottom of the boat as the 
 rescuers pushed on. Next, two men and a girl 
 clinging desperately to the slatted sides of a corn- 
 crib. 
 
 Then, like the trump of the archangel above a 
 world on fire, John Bell's shout pealed above the 
 hellish clamour of screams, curses, and rushing surges, 
 
 " Shut your eyes and hold your breath ! " 
 
 The three rowers bent as one man to the level of 
 the rowlocks ; there was a second of hissing steam 
 and of flying spray and stifling fumes, and they had 
 shot right through the heart of the fiery serpent, 
 twisting and belching in the current; tongues of 
 liquid flame reached over the gunwale for the trem- 
 bling creatures prostrate among the ribs of the gallant 
 boat, and spit angrily at the bow as it cleft the 
 tide. 
 
 When the passengers cleared their eyes from the 
 blinding dash of oil and water, they saw a double- 
 leaved barn-door, lifted by the flood from the hinges, 
 the two sides still held together by the great bolts 
 in the middle, pitching toward the irregular streak of 
 ignited oil. Two women were upon it. One, on her 
 knees, clung with both hands to a bolt ; her scream 
 for " Help ! " pierced the ears of the beholders. The 
 other woman lay doubled up oddly, face downward, 
 in the middle of the raft. A sudden swell lifted it
 
 H Dr. Dale 
 
 against the boat with a shock that loosened the grasp 
 of the kneeling figure. Before her agonised shriek 
 was lost in the general tumult, the stranger who had 
 " little to lose " threw himself almost at half-length 
 over the guards of the boat and clutched her hair. 
 With a word to McAlpin, John Bell jumped over- 
 board, and swam for the float cast astern by the 
 recoil of the collision, and now twenty feet away in 
 the very jaws of the flames. One foot of the woman 
 was wedged in between the leaves of the door. At 
 the wrench that tore them apart to liberate her, she 
 cried out faintly. She seemed to be quite dead when 
 the swimmer passed her up to his comrades. She 
 was limp and lifeless in the arms of those who bore 
 her up the bank from the boat and laid her upon a 
 cot in the nearest house. 
 
 John Bell and his unknown helper had carried her 
 between them. As the stranger raised her head 
 that the air might reach her face, Bell recognised 
 Ruth Folger, the sister of the owner of the boat 
 which had rescued her. He knew, afterward, that 
 she had gone to visit a school-fellow in the country 
 the day before the breaking of the dam, and been 
 detained there by the storm. Driven from their 
 house by the invading waters, the family took refuge 
 in the barn, which stood upon higher ground. They 
 were barely under shelter when a tremendous wave 
 bore down upon it. Neither of the saved girls had 
 any distinct recollection of what happened next or 
 afterwards, until the raft struck the boat. 
 
 John Bell's memory was as much at fault up to 
 date with regard to the interval separating the dis- 
 embarkation of the dozen rescued people and the 
 removal of Miss Folger and her friend to a place 
 where they could be properly cared for, from the 
 moment when, struggling out of a queer stupor that 
 numbed limbs, brain, and tongue, he found that he
 
 'Twixt Fire and Flood 15 
 
 was lying in his own bed. McAlpin was on one side 
 of him, chafing his right hand. The left was held by 
 a man whose face was vaguely familiar, but whose 
 name he could not recall. At the foot of the bed 
 stood his hostess and parishioner, Mrs. Sarepta 
 Bowersox, her cheeks streaked with tears, her eyes 
 fixed mournfully upon her lodger's face. 
 
 He was swathed in blankets from head to foot; 
 a powerful odour of whiskey and singed hair per- 
 meated the air; his hands and forehead stung and 
 burned as if from scalding water ; lips and tongue 
 were blistered ; his throat was dry and sore ; he 
 breathed with difficulty. He tried to smile at Mrs. 
 Bowersox, and effected a grimace instead, seeing 
 which, her tears started anew. Then he turned his 
 gaze full upon the stranger attendant. 
 
 " I am Dr. Dale," said singularly rich and mellow 
 tones that were yet somewhat muffled to the patient's 
 hearing, as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. " I 
 came to Pitvale yesterday afternoon. I was in the 
 boat with you, and have been kept pretty busy ever 
 since." 
 
 In speaking, he fastened his eyes upon John's, and 
 articulated carefully. John's honest gray eyes cleared 
 and brightened under the scrutiny; his wits rallied 
 into line. 
 
 " I suppose," he observed, his tongue slow and 
 stiff, " that it is your eyebrows and lashes and hair 
 that I smell. I see they are badly scorched. I hope 
 you were not hurt in coming to my help, and that 
 your hair will grow out again soon." . 
 
 The smell of singeing overpowered that of whiskey. 
 To his hazy perceptions the loss of the doctor's eye- 
 brows and lashes seemed a serious matter. 
 
 McAlpin choked down a snicker; Mrs. Bowersox 
 moved aside out of sight. Dr. Dale smiled in the 
 friendliest way imaginable, putting the hand he held
 
 16 Dr. Dale 
 
 back under the coverlet. John knew now that he 
 had been counting his pulse. 
 
 " It will, I think," he said easily. " And yours 
 too. We were in the same boat in more senses than 
 one. You are doing well. So is everybody who 
 was with us." 
 
 John stirred restlessly. 
 
 " Ralph Folger should be sent for. He ought to 
 know that his sister is hurt. She is not dead is 
 she?" 
 
 " She is alive and better and in her own 
 house. And we have telegraphed for her brother," 
 in the same pleasant way, never taking his eyes from 
 the dilated pupils under his gaze. " Is there any- 
 thing else you would like to know before you go to 
 sleep? I want to put your mind entirely at ease." 
 
 This was what John Bell was living over as he 
 finished his tramp from the station to the Bachelors' 
 Club House, built by Ralph Folger as a memorial 
 of the service rendered to him and his by the two 
 friends. Egbert Dale and John Bell had lived and 
 wrought together, been " in the same boat," as 
 they had a habit of reminding one another, one in 
 heart and soul and purpose, for three years. 
 
 All was still well with them and with everybody 
 who was with them that awful night. 
 
 " I shall be nearer the other side of the dark 
 river but once," soliloquised Bell, soberly, mounting 
 the stone steps of the largest edifice in Pitvale. 
 "Then I shall cross it!"
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 IN THE DOCTOR'S SANCTUM 
 
 " Who has not felt how sadly sweet 
 The dream of Home, the dream of Home, 
 Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, 
 When far o'er land or sea we roam ? " 
 
 I 
 
 office of Egbert Dale, M.D. was upon 
 a quieter street than the main thoroughfare 
 on which was situated The Bachelors' Club. 
 Neat cottage residences were rising about 
 the modest story-and-a-half building, buff 
 with white trimmings and dark-gray roof. There 
 were three rooms, all spacious, on the first floor, 
 besides a central hall. To the right of the front door 
 was a general office, where patients waited until the 
 doctor was ready to admit them to the inner room for 
 examination, advice, and, if need were, for treatment. 
 Across the hall was the physician's especial snuggery, 
 comfortably and tastefully furnished, and lined with 
 book-shelves. A steam-radiator in one corner sup- 
 plied a background of heat ; an open grate added the 
 semblance to the reality of cheer and comfort. The 
 master loved heat as a tropical flower the humid 
 warmth of the conservatory. He was no more a 
 Sybarite than he was a dandy, but his ideas on the 
 subject of personal cleanliness were a proverb with 
 patients and townspeople. The landlord of The Oil- 
 man's Rest aimed at these in the significant inscrip- 
 tion, " Come as you are, dirty or clean." The poor- 
 est operative, drunk or sober, was welcome to a meal 
 in the restaurant of The Bachelors' Club, if hungry, 
 whether he could pay for it or not. He could have 
 neither bite nor sup until he had taken a bath in one
 
 1 8 Dr. Dale 
 
 of the white-tiled wash-rooms of the establishment, 
 and exchanged his filthy clothes for the long-sleeved 
 overalls of white duck worn at meals by such of the 
 members of the Club as had not time to make an 
 entire change in their clothing before sitting down to 
 dinner or supper. Each member had his locker in a 
 dressing-room where he might leave his " working 
 clothes " before going home at night to his boarding- 
 house, and where he might put them on again the 
 next morning. This was one of the devices hit upon 
 by the founders of the organisation for making home- 
 less oilmen desirable boarders in the better class of 
 dwelling-houses in the neighbourhood. Dutch clean- 
 liness revolted at sight of the oily grime inseparable 
 from well-labour, and the pungent reek of crude petro- 
 leum was literally a stench in the housewife's nostrils. 
 
 But for regulations sneered at as " finical " by the 
 rougher element of the incongruous population sucked 
 toward a common centre by this one of Mammon's 
 whirlpools, any gathering of clubmen would have 
 polluted the. atmosphere of their quarters. As it was, 
 the great building at the head of Main Street was a 
 refining influence in all the region. Every member 
 of the Club was a stockholder in the corporation to 
 the extent of at least one share, and had a personal 
 interest in its prosperity. They had their own band, 
 composed principally of Germans, and the concerts 
 given by them were patronised by the e"lite of town 
 and country. 
 
 " The whole thing is unique in the history of min- 
 ing corporations," said one of a visiting party of dis- 
 tinguished politicians from Harrisburg, after making 
 the round of the building. " Who is entitled to the 
 credit of it ? " 
 
 Sandy McAlpin scratched his stubbly chin and 
 pushed his Glengarry cap toward his left ear, before 
 giving his decision with a true Gaelic burr,
 
 In the Doctors Sanctum 19 
 
 " I 'm thinkin' the Dominie and Dr. Dale might 
 take three-fourths of it. They furnished the brains ! 
 Mr. Folger put up the money." 
 
 Dr. Dale had drawn his adjustable lounging-chair 
 up to the fire in his sanctum, at half-past ten o'clock 
 on the evening of John Bell's return from a week's 
 visit to New York. The grate was piled with red-hot 
 coals ; some sprays of mignonette in a vase on the 
 table behind him scented the warmed air delicately. 
 The wind hummed in the chimney ; through the 
 frozen stillness of the streets the shout of a stray 
 reveller in the lower town, the hoarse " pouff! 
 pouff! " of a hard-pressed locomotive, the grind and 
 rumble of a loaded train a mile away, accentuated the 
 restful seclusion of a man whose day's work was done 
 and himself free to enjoy fireside ease. The doctor 
 lowered the chair-back that he might stretch legs and 
 spine more at length, joined his finger-tips, and hoped 
 devoutly that he had had his last office-patient for the 
 night. 
 
 Professional rivals for mushroom civic growth 
 attracts doctors as decay draws scavenger-insects 
 more than intimated that he owed his large practice to 
 personal gifts rather than to skill. He and his friends 
 could afford to let the aspersion pass. His treatment 
 of the half-drowned, asphyxiated, and scorched victims 
 of the great flood laid the foundation of a reputation 
 which subsequent experience had built up solidly. 
 
 Had not the celebrated Philadelphia surgeon 
 brought out in a special train by Ralph Folger to 
 attend his sister, spoken most handsomely of the 
 country practitioner's management of Miss Folger's 
 case, particularly commending his discretion in not 
 amputating her crushed foot until the great man's 
 arrival? A neat job the latter had made of it, the 
 fame of which was noised abroad by city papers in 
 connection with the story of " the dual calamity that
 
 20 Dr. Dale 
 
 had stricken the community, sparing neither million- 
 aire nor miner." 
 
 Ralph Folger had drawn his check for four thou- 
 sand dollars, payable to the celebrated carver's order, 
 adding with a mighty oath that he would have paid 
 ten times the sum to have the poor little foot saved. 
 Nor had he scrupled to declare, afterwards and 
 repeatedly, his conviction that if Dr. Dale had not 
 been interfered with by a blanked specialist, he would 
 have left the pretty foot where it was and mended it 
 up to be as good as new. 
 
 The dignity of conscious power and of energy in- 
 telligently controlled was in this man's countenance 
 and bearing. His features had the mould and the 
 finish of a Grecian statue ; the clear pallor of his com- 
 plexion was set off by dark eyebrows and eyes ; the 
 always clean-shaven face looked the younger because 
 his closely trimmed hair was iron-gray. Judged by 
 his features, he was under thirty years of age. He 
 had the repose and calm authority that belong to 
 fifty. His address was direct, sometimes positive, 
 never discourteous, because he kept humours and 
 tempers well in hand. In his intercourse with the 
 few intimate friends he had made in Pitvale his man- 
 ner was singularly winning and cordial. Few who 
 met him could resist the fascination, exerted at will, 
 of the occult influence we classify stupidly as " per- 
 sonal magnetism," defined more aptly by Elizabeth 
 Stuart Phelps as " that mystical charm which comes 
 not of striving, or of prayer, or of education, the 
 power of an elect personality." 
 
 He had less colour than usual to-night ; the lines of 
 his figure were lax, the face was pensive to moodiness. 
 His mail had lain unopened on the table until office- 
 hours were over. Two letters were there now. A 
 heap of gray tinder, fluttering over the live coals in 
 the grate, represented the rest. In his reverie he
 
 In the Doctor's Sanctum 21 
 
 seemed to count the risings and fallings of the waifs. 
 When one flake, larger than the others, regular in form, 
 and some inches square, the lines of writing faintly 
 visible upon it, dropped upon the hearth, he picked 
 it up and threw it back into the fire. Method and 
 neatness were innate and unconquerable with him. 
 
 The inert figure straightened into alertness as an 
 approaching footstep detached itself from other night 
 sounds without. By the time a pass-key rattled in 
 the outer door, he was in the hall, his eager hand on 
 the bolt. 
 
 " Ha ! I thought I could not be mistaken ! " he 
 cried, as a familiar form filled the doorway. " I 
 should know your step in the Great Libyan Desert 
 or in Siberia ! " shivering in shutting out the keen 
 wind. " Where did you drop from? You always 
 were an unexpected sort of chap. Come in ! I 've 
 been keeping this fire and the big chair for you ever 
 since you left." 
 
 He followed Bell into the study, and helped him 
 off with the rough ulster. 
 
 " The opening of a chestnut burr ! " he quoted 
 laughingly, laying the heavy garment upon the sofa. 
 " What time did you get in? " 
 
 The visitor stooped to spread his strong, shapely 
 hands to the fire. 
 
 " An hour ago. I came over in the caboose of a 
 freight train. I stopped at the Club for a cup of 
 coffee and a look at the boys, then came straight 
 here." 
 
 He faced Dale in saying it, and they shook hands 
 again by a mutual impulse. Cordial pleasure at the 
 meeting was in the eyes of each. 
 
 Bell was taller by two inches than his friend and 
 co-worker. His hair and full, close-curling beard 
 were of the glossy brown of the chestnut to which 
 Dale had likened him ; gray, well-opened eyes, with
 
 22 Dr. Dale 
 
 thick, long lashes, were his best feature. The rest 
 of the face was strong, kindly, honest, but not hand- 
 some. Superb specimen of physical manhood though 
 he was, he was almost too massive for grace beside 
 the supple elegance of Dale's figure and limbs. His 
 voice was powerful and deep of tone, with carrying 
 qualities that made him an effective public speaker. 
 He looked the pioneer, Dale the artist to whom should 
 be committed the task of finishing and polishing. 
 
 " Why did n't you telegraph that you were com- 
 ing? " continued the doctor, as they seated them- 
 selves. " I 'd have gone down to meet you." 
 
 " Thanks, all the same ! But I did n't arrive 
 wholly unwelcomed. Your friend Welsh fell in 
 with me on Main Street, walked a dozen blocks at 
 my side, and gave me divers words of counsel. I 
 wish I could get more into touch with that man. I 
 know we two could do much good if we could only 
 work in unison. But he invariably rubs me the 
 wrong way, and somehow I contrive to offend him 
 without the least intention of doing it. Why, only 
 to-night " 
 
 He went on to tell of the Rev. C. Mather Welsh's 
 refusal to accept the hospitality of The Bachelors' 
 Club, and his own perplexity at the passion into 
 which the proposition to adjourn the discussion to 
 the restaurant had thrown the small evangelist. 
 
 Dale stared, wide-eyed, at the speaker as the story 
 was developed. When it was ended, he threw him- 
 self back and broke into a shout of hearty boyish 
 laughter. 
 
 Bell stared in his turn, and in unfeigned bewilder- 
 ment. Dr. Dale was not given to violent mirth. 
 
 "What's the joke? I can't see the point. I've 
 made a brother-man and brother-minister angry. 
 That 's not wildly amusing, to my notion. How I 
 did it I can't guess."
 
 In the Doctor's Sanctum 23 
 
 " Of course you can't, you big, straightforward, 
 honest schoolboy of six-feet-three ! When will you 
 be grown up, I wonder? All you did was to ask 
 a rabid teetotaller to step into a bar and have a 
 drink. You invited a temperance orator to pass 
 judgment on the quality of the Club beer. That 
 was all ! Strange that the little man took it amiss, 
 wasn't it?" 
 
 Bell listened, open-mouthed ; a gleam that was not 
 all regret nor yet wholly amused dawned in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "I suppose I really did all that ! " he enun- 
 ciated at last. " But you see I really meant ' 
 
 "Of course /see that you did ; but Welsh does n't 
 see it, and what's more, he never will. A man like 
 that covets a valid excuse for disliking and downing 
 everybody who does n't agree with his views. I fell 
 under his ban long ago in a dozen different ways. 
 One offence came through his throwing out of a 
 window a bottle of French brandy I had left for 
 a man on the verge of coma after typhoid fever. I 
 had ordered a tablespoonful to be given every half- 
 hour as long as he could swallow it, or until I came 
 back. When I paid the next call, I found Welsh 
 on his knees praying into a dying man's ear, after 
 throwing bottle, brandy, and all away. I waited for 
 him outside and told him, coolly, that if he ever 
 interfered with my practice again, I would throw him 
 after the bottle. Now he 's your mortal enemy too. 
 Ah, well ! I don't fancy he '11 be able to bother us 
 much. At any rate, he is n't worth talking about 
 now. Tell me about yourself." 
 
 " But if I apologise to him and 
 
 " And make matters ten times worse. No ! no ! 
 Drop it! It's best that way. Now, what about 
 your trip? The matches are on the table behind 
 you, and there 's some reputed tobacco in that jar
 
 24 Dr. Dale 
 
 on the mantel. Or would you rather have a cigar? 
 You wrote that Miss Bell had arrived safely after a 
 pleasant voyage. Did you find her much changed?" 
 
 " Only that her skirts have gone down and her 
 hair has gone up during the past four years. For 
 the rest she is pretty much the same. By the way, 
 she 's coming here a week from Thursday." 
 
 " Here ! to Pitvale ! Not to live? " 
 
 " For a visit of some months, at any rate. It 's 
 time I had some good of her. She is all I have in 
 the world." 
 
 " That will be rather a violent change for her," 
 remarked Dale. " Four years in Europe with her 
 uncle and aunt, spent in sight-seeing and society, is 
 a far cry from slack-baked Pitvale with little com- 
 pany except her big brother." 
 
 " Oh ! we '11 give her a rattling good time ! " confi- 
 dently. " She '11 stay with me, of course. I have 
 thought it all over. I '11 get Mrs. Bowersox to 
 ' make over to us j'intly,' as Captain Cuttle says, 
 one of the ' pair of parlours ' she keeps shut up 
 except when there is a funeral or wedding on hand 
 and she has had neither in ten years. The front 
 room will be the better of the two. It is exactly 
 opposite my study, you know. Myrtle will make 
 another place of it by walking through it twice. She 
 has a genius for home-making and all that. It will 
 be like the dear old days when we were all in all to 
 each other. We will renew our youth. She isn't 
 a bit spoiled by her four years of travel. She 's just 
 the same sweet, unaffected, jolly little sister she was 
 when I played the big brother, and she was my 
 humble, adoring slave who could yet twist me round 
 the least of her fingers. She looked up to me as her 
 superior in rank. Somehow our positions seem rather 
 reversed now. And I say, old man, you '11 drop in 
 upon us every evening, and as often as you can
 
 In the Doctor's Sanctum 25 
 
 besides, and consider yourself one of the family, 
 won't you? I count you in for every good time I 
 promise myself. Oh, but it is grand to think of 
 having a real home again after a century or two of 
 boarding-house life ! " 
 
 Dr. Dale did not answer at once. He seemed not 
 to have heard the appeal to himself. Chin on hand, 
 he sat looking into the fire. Tiny flames were re- 
 flected in his eyes ; the flickering gleams brought out 
 lines in his face that were not there awhile ago. He 
 looked haggard and worn ; the eyes that were brown 
 when he smiled were black and tired, and there were 
 dark shadows under them. The man had aged 
 within an hour. 
 
 Bell, happy in planning for the new life, took no 
 heed of the other's abstraction until Dale said curtly : 
 
 " It must be ! " 
 
 "What must be?" asked the puzzled brother, ar- 
 rested in his castle-building. 
 
 " It must be good, as you say, to have a home of 
 one's very own." 
 
 Something hopeless yet wistful in his accent made 
 Bell look more closely at him. 
 
 "Where was your early home, Dale?" he said 
 tentatively. 
 
 " I never had one ! " was the quiet rejoinder. 
 
 A woman would have offered verbal, probably tan- 
 gible, sympathy. Being a man, a strong man and a 
 friend, Bell made no reply. 
 
 Dr. Dale seldom cared to talk of himself. His 
 familiar acquaintances, and even John Bell, his one 
 intimate associate, knew next to nothing of his past. 
 Always ready to hear and to allay the perplexities of 
 others, he was by habit, and perhaps by nature, reti- 
 cent in all that concerned him personally. 
 
 It came as a surprise to Bell, therefore, when after 
 a pause Dale went on :
 
 26 Dr. Dale 
 
 "No! I never had a home. I I have been 
 virtually alone almost ever since I can recollect being 
 at all. There was no one to care if I rose or if I 
 sank, if I went or came, if I were well or ill. That 
 sort of thing is bad enough when one is a child. 
 A boy minds it less. When a fellow grows older he 
 misses the memory of a restraining hand, of some 
 one who once loved him, of a place in the household 
 that was his very own and from which he would be 
 missed. All these things go to make up home for a 
 boy. I had none of them." 
 
 There was no bitterness, and still less of complaint, 
 in the cold monotone. It was as if he set forth an 
 impersonal fact. 
 
 Again Bell had no word of sympathy, and the two 
 men sat silent, looking into the throbbing scarlet 
 deeps of the fire. The wind without was almost a 
 gale ; the shutters strained and creaked dismally. 
 Little eddies of gray and white ash were stirred up 
 and danced and hovered over the coals, as a wander- 
 ing blast swept down the chimney. 
 
 Dale was blowing rings of smoke into the air, crit- 
 ically inspecting each floating bluish circle, as if think- 
 ing to read some vital secret framed therein. 
 
 " Yes," he resumed after a while, the monotone 
 softening into dreamy cadences, " I missed all that. 
 I think I never quite knew what I had missed until," 
 pausing until the circling smoke leaving his lips 
 broke and dispersed, " until I ran across a real 
 home once." 
 
 "Here?" 
 
 " No. In the Tennessee mountains. It was a 
 composite mansion of mud, boards, and stone. 
 There were, I believe, five rooms in all. One was 
 what New England people call a ' lean-to,' built of 
 unpainted pine clapboards. It had not been lathed 
 or plastered or ceiled. An old woman who had
 
 In the Doctors Sanctum 27 
 
 been bedridden for years, and her daughter, lived in 
 the house. The daughter was nurse, housekeeper, 
 and hostess, all in one. The furniture of the five 
 rooms might have cost twenty-five dollars when new, 
 if it ever was new. All the same, the poor place was 
 a Home, with a capital H." 
 
 " I did not know you had ever lived in Tennessee." 
 
 " I did n't live there. I suffered and nearly died 
 there. I was passing through the State, and hap- 
 pened upon a mining-camp away up in the Cumber- 
 land Mountains. Just at that time one of the mines 
 caved in. A lot of men were about a hundred feet 
 below the surface when the alarm was given. Nobody 
 dared to take the cage down for them. At last one 
 fellow volunteered for the job. He made four trips 
 and saved the whole gang. On the last journey the 
 car got stuck somehow on the way up and careened 
 suddenly. The fellow tumbled out and got pretty 
 well smashed to pieces. I happened to be in the 
 mine at the time " 
 
 " And you happen to be trying to lie to me now, 
 and a preciously awkward business you are making 
 of it!" broke in Bell. "What's the use of saying 
 you 'happened' to be there? You were the man 
 who took the cage down for the poor fellows and 
 saved them. Confess it ! " 
 
 " There was no one else to do it," with the air of 
 a man caught red-handed in a felony. " Somebody 
 had to, you know," he added apologetically. " Well, 
 I was badly hurt, and I lay there in the dark at the 
 bottom of the shaft all night. The shoring over my 
 head bulged more and more every hour. I could 
 see it against the lighter sky above. I knew it would 
 give way, sooner or later, and let down a few thousand 
 tons of dirt and rock upon me. I was lying helpless, 
 and could n't even roll to one side." 
 
 " Well ! " said John, impatiently.
 
 28 Dr. Dale 
 
 The narrator had begun to blow rings again, as if 
 he had finished the tale of adventure. 
 
 " Well, there was an old-fashioned thunder-storm 
 that night, and the reverberations shook the walls of 
 the shaft, and bits of gravel and earth kept tumbling 
 down on my face and body from between the boards 
 of the shoring, and the boards seemed to bulge and 
 sag a little more after each thunder-crash. It was n't 
 nice to lie there like that." 
 
 " But how ? " for there was another tantalising 
 break in the story. 
 
 " Oh, they hauled me out next morning, and that 
 blessed shoring did n't give way, after all. But I was 
 a human wreck, and my hair was n't black any more. 
 It had n't exactly grown 
 
 ' white 
 
 In a single night, 
 As men's have done from sudden fears,' 
 
 but it was as gray as you see it now." 
 
 " And they let you lie there all night, in danger, 
 the men you had saved ! " 
 
 " I have never found my fellow-man a particularly 
 grateful beast, certainly not that sort of him that 
 lives near to nature's heart. But I was telling you 
 of that Home." 
 
 " With the capital H ? " 
 
 " With the capital H ! Nobody wanted to take in 
 an injured stranger who did n't look very prosperous. 
 At last a girl came forward and said she 'd take care 
 of me in her mother's house. It was the house I told 
 you of. She was a born nurse that girl ! I verily 
 believe she saved my life. They were poor, but they 
 would n't hear of my paying them a cent for what 
 was done for me. I lay all summer three mortal 
 months on a cot in that lean-to, before I could 
 travel. They treated me like one of their own
 
 In the Doctors Sanctum 29 
 
 family. I mended fast when I was able to hobble to 
 the door and lie on the grass under the trees and fill 
 my lungs with the mountain air. I thought it was 
 Heaven at the time ; I see now it was only Home." 
 
 "The two words are not far from being synonymes," 
 observed Bell. 
 
 " I Ve thought sometimes," continued the doctor, 
 musingly, " that maybe I 'd go back there some day. 
 You see, the girl " 
 
 He brought himself up testily. 
 
 " What an ass I am to bore you with all this stuff! 
 An egotistical ass ! " 
 
 " You don't bore me and you are talking stuff 
 now ! Do you ever hear from them, the mother 
 and the daughter?" 
 
 Dale nodded, reaching backward to the table for a 
 fresh cigar. 
 
 " I could scarcely drop them after all they did for 
 me, you know. I 'm not quite a brute. And now, 
 if you are warmed through, there are some Club 
 matters I'd like to talk over with you."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE MIDDLE MISS MEAGLEY 
 
 " Olivia. But we will draw the curtain and show you the picture. 
 ... Is 't not well done ? 
 
 " Viola. Excellently done, if God did all ... I see you what 
 you are : you are too proud ! But, if you were the devil, you are 
 fair ! " 
 
 MRS. BOWERSOX was cleaning house. 
 When you have heard that Mrs. Bower- 
 sox was the offspring of well-to-do 
 Hollanders who had settled in Pennsyl- 
 vania early in life; that Sarepta, their 
 only daughter, was trained in all housewifely godli- 
 ness by her mother, and lived to be forty-five years 
 of age before she wedded Joachim Bowersox, 
 you will comprehend, although afar off, what this 
 especial rite meant to her, if not what it imparted to 
 her assistants. 
 
 There were three of these unfortunates on this par- 
 ticular day, Gretchen, " the second girl ; " Corne- 
 lius (otherwise " Case " ) Van Wagenen, a farm-hand 
 in summer, a general-utility man in winter, and last, 
 and least as to weight and consequence, the nominal 
 head of the house. The corps was noisily supple- 
 mented by Master Thomas Jefferson Bowersox, an 
 urchin of five summers, with hair like a tangle of 
 gold-coloured floss, eyes as blue as Lake Como, the 
 face of a stainless and unstainable cherub, and a 
 temper as bland as refined oil in the absence of 
 provocation otherwise, matches. 
 
 Jeff had prepared for the crusade against impal- 
 pable dust, imaginary fluff, and inconceivable vermin
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley 31 
 
 by enduing his plump person with white cotton over- 
 alls made after the Club pattern. His mother had cut 
 them out and run them up on the sewing-machine 
 yesterday, as the one and only means of securing a 
 measurable degree of household quiet. Jeff had 
 arisen at a ghastly hour of the as yet unsunned day 
 to get into the garment, then stolen into the kitchen 
 at six o'clock, while Anneke, the cook, was skimming 
 milk in the buttery, climbed upon a table and raised 
 himself on tiptoe to put the hands of the tall old 
 clock that had been his grandfather's forward one 
 hour and thirteen minutes. 
 
 " And Anneke, poor thing ! never misgiving what 
 he had done, hurried up the breakfast so that the bell 
 rang while Dr. Dale was shaving and woke poor, dear 
 Mr. Bell out of a sound sleep, and he up at all hours 
 of the night in his study ! As I was just telling Jeff, 
 if they had n't two of the sweetest tempers ever made, 
 there 's no saying what might have happened to a 
 naughty little boy who is everlastingly mortifying his 
 poor mother." 
 
 While the mortified parent discoursed, she was 
 scrubbing the carvings of the high mantel with a 
 brush dipped in soft soap of her own making and two 
 years old. Uncontrite Jeff was going through the 
 like motions upon the window-sill with his unsus- 
 pecting father's tooth-brush feloniously abstracted 
 from his wash-stand. The juvenile toiler's head was 
 cocked smartly to the right ; a small red tongue wag- 
 gled over his chin in the energy of bodily exercise so 
 engrossing that he paid no attention to the indict- 
 ment brought against him. 
 
 The confidante of the latest evidence of original 
 and inbred sin sat, composed and idle, in the easiest 
 chair of the parlour " set," regardless of the hostess's 
 warning that she would be " all over dust." 
 
 " It passes me how dust gets in& a room that is
 
 32 Dr. Dale 
 
 shut up all the time ! " she plained. " To say noth- 
 ing of the furniture being sheeted and pinned up 
 until you 'd think not a grain of dirt could get at it. 
 Just two weeks ago yesterday I and Gretchen, poor 
 thing ! went over every inch of this room upon our 
 bended knees. I 'm not likely to forget it when 
 that very afternoon Jeff poor dear ! backed 
 over a pail and sat down in the dirty suds, and but 
 for the mercy of its having stood so long that the 
 heat was off, there 's no saying what might have 
 happened." 
 
 The young lady in the easy-chair laughed carelessly. 
 " Come here, Jeff, and let me see how many scars 
 you 've got since I saw you last." 
 
 The child laid aside the brush and advanced in all 
 seriousness. 
 
 "That's one!" he lisped, lowering his head to 
 show a bloody scratch on the roll of fat at the back 
 of his neck. " Kitty did that 'cause I was carrying 
 her kittens off in my apron. There 's one on this 
 knee that makes two where I felled off the horse- 
 block, and 'nother on this. That 's free ! That was 
 the cellar steps. I can't show them to you, all on 
 account of the overalls, you know. But there 's a 
 bully place on my head. 'Most well, you see," 
 parting the sunshiny curls. "That was a-coasting 
 down the hill. Sled banged 'gainst a tree. Dr. Dale 
 thoughted first he would have to sew it up. But he 
 just shaved the hair off and stick-plastered it. There 
 ain't but four of 'em in all." 
 
 " You '11 be the death of me, you funny boy ! " 
 shrieked the visitor, holding her sides in a ladylike 
 way. " You keep Dr. Dale busy, don't you? " 
 " You bet ! " 
 
 The cherubic infant was back at his work, head 
 awry and tongue lolling. Time was too precious for 
 anything but monosyllables.
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley 33 
 
 The mother's sly, proud glance would have been 
 absurd had it been less natural and loving. She 
 affected to frown, and put an edge upon her amiable 
 drawl. 
 
 " Kate Meagley ! you 're as bad as any of them ! 
 I see nothing to laugh at in a boy that keeps his 
 poor mother uneasy every single hour he 's awake, 
 with his capers and his hurts. Some day he '11 break 
 his neck, and what then? " 
 
 " Dr. Dale will mend it ! " retorted Jeff, rubbing 
 the wet sill so dry with the sleeve of his overalls 
 that his palpitating tongue overhung the dimple in 
 his chin. 
 
 Miss Meagley clapped her hands. The mother 
 beamed broadly. 
 
 " He really believes it ! And others think as 
 much, if they don't say it. But speaking of " a 
 jerk of the head in the direction of the apparently 
 inattentive subject doing discreet duty for his name 
 " he 's more and more a surprise every day he 
 lives. It's always been next to impossible for me 
 to realise him anyhow, coming so late in life as he 
 did, and so extraordinary in every way. Lately 
 he 's getting clean beyond me. He wants a man's 
 hand on the bridle, that 's what he wants ! " 
 
 " I should n't think there was a lack of that sort of 
 thing in this house," said Miss Meagley, artlessly. 
 And yet more demurely, "There 's Uncle Joachim, 
 to begin with." 
 
 " Don't be a goose, Kate Meagley ! You know as 
 well 's I do that he could n't bridle a flea ! " 
 
 They spoke as freely as if Joachim were out of the 
 room, when he was putting the last extreme of polish 
 upon the panes of a window not five feet distant, us- 
 ing for the purpose a ball of crushed newspaper. 
 
 " Mr. Bell says some fleas can fire cannons, and 
 canary-birds too," interpolated Jeff, in such wadded 
 
 3
 
 34 Dr. Dale 
 
 accents that his mother pounced upon him in a 
 fright. 
 
 " Bless my soul, child ! what have you got in your 
 mouth?" 
 
 Exploring it with a hooked forefinger, in spite of 
 his teeth, she produced a dab of wet gray matter. 
 
 " I was going to shine the other window ! " 
 spluttered the defrauded assistant. 
 
 " Newspaper ! " ejaculated his parent. " Don't 
 you know printer's ink is a rank poison?" 
 
 " Not when taken that way," said Miss Meagley, 
 hiding a yawn with her hand. " Jeff! if you will sit 
 quietly on this chair by me for five minutes, I will 
 give you five peppermint drops. I want to talk to 
 your mother. She cannot listen or think, if you 
 will keep scaring her every other breath. There's 
 my man ! " as the cherub bestowed himself upon the 
 designated seat. " Aunt Sarepta ! I came over 
 to-day, for one thing, to leave a message for Dr. 
 Dale. He isn't at his office. I stopped there on 
 my way up town. Will he be in at dinner-time?" 
 
 " Maybe so, maybe not. There 's no counting 
 upon his going-outs and coming-ins any more than 
 there is upon death." 
 
 " If he should be, will you ask him to call some- 
 time this afternoon or evening? Ruth has a cold, 
 and I don't like to let it run on. We can't take risks 
 with her." 
 
 " It 's just beautiful, the care you take of her ! " said 
 Mrs. Bowersox, feelingly. " 'Seems-if going through 
 so much together as you two did, that dreadful time, 
 had j'ined you for life, poor dear cre'turs ! It 's like 
 ' for better, for worse,' as I was saying to Mr. Bell only 
 last night. You ought to count it a privilege that you 
 can make up to the poor afflicted dear for what she 's 
 lost. Dear ! dear ! When you think of what she was 
 and what she is, it is enough to break your heart."
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley 35 
 
 " You 'd like to have Dr. Dale mend your heart, if 
 't was broked, would n't you?" queried the terrible 
 iniant, squirming so abruptly to stare into his cousin's 
 face that she plucked him from his perch and de- 
 posited him upon the floor with needless energy. He 
 did not remit his stare. 
 
 " What makes your face so red ? I should n't 
 wonder if you have a scarlet fever, or maybe a 
 measle," he hazarded solemnly, standing stock-still 
 where she had dumped him. 
 
 Gretchen tittered; the utility-man chuckled over 
 the sofa he was trundling from one side of the room 
 to the other; the one eye out of which Joachim 
 looked over his shoulder at his son and heir 
 twinkled ; Mrs. Bowersox with difficulty narrowed 
 her ample cheeks to an expression of rebukeful 
 indignation. 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! sonny ! that 's no way to speak to a 
 lady ! She 's been walking in the wind, and it has 
 given her a fine colour. If you don't learn not to 
 stare at people and make remarks, there 's no saying 
 what will happen now we 're going to have a young 
 lady of our own in the house." 
 
 " Mr. Bell was telling us about his sister last night." 
 Miss Meagley welcomed the change of topics. " Is n't 
 it funny for a society girl to be coming to Pitvale 
 away from New York ! in the depth of winter? " 
 
 " Just what I was saying to Mr. Bell ! " responded 
 her aunt. " There 's precious little in Pitvale to 
 please a young lady that's been all over the world, 
 and is accomplished, no doubt, and speaking, maybe, 
 as many as a dozen languages, and used, as you say, 
 to gay society and every luxury. I had a real 
 purpletation of the heart at the thought that I had n't, 
 so to speak, cleaned house since November. She '11 
 be here a-Thursday, and there 's oceans of work to 
 be done between now and then. They 're to have
 
 36 Dr. Dale 
 
 this for their private sitting-room. I ought, by rights, 
 to have the carpet lifted and beaten, but Mr. Bell, 
 poor, thoughtful dear ! set his foot down on that." 
 
 " On the carpet? " slipped in the guest, with kitten- 
 ish drollery, wasted upon the literal housewife. 
 
 " He actually remembered the very day it was put 
 down in November. And says he, ' I shall be really 
 displeased and hurt if you put yourself to unnecessary 
 trouble for my sister, Mrs. Bowersox. She has n't 
 seen such a spick-and-span house as yours in ten 
 years/ he says. ' All you need to do is to have her 
 bed made and water and towels in her room, and a 
 good fire in her parlour, a wood-fire, please! I'll 
 pay for it. And room in there where she can put 
 a few books and gimcracks she has brought for me.' 
 That's all a man knows about housekeeping! I 
 declare I had to laugh in his face ! " 
 
 Miss Meagley listened so attentively as to be un- 
 aware that Jeff, stationed a little in the rear of her 
 chair, was laboriously quilting a fold of her skirt with 
 a pin into the stuffed back. 
 
 "Is she much younger than Mr. Bell?" she in- 
 quired. " He talks of her as if she were hardly out 
 of her teens." 
 
 " She is just twenty, so he told me. But a well- 
 grown, fine-looking young lady, judging from her 
 picture. Just wait a minute ! Gretchen, if you Ve 
 finished the paint, do you and Case take the chairs, 
 one by one, into the hall, and brush every speck of 
 dust out of the seats and- backs, 'specially where the 
 buttons are." 
 
 She tiptoed briskly from the room. For a woman 
 of fifty-three who brought down the scales at one 
 hundred and ninety-five, her movements were re- 
 markably agile, her step light. She was neither flat- 
 footed nor lumbering. In a minute she was back, 
 bringing a framed picture in both careful hands.
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley 37 
 
 " She brought it to him from Flowerence," she 
 said, steadying it upon her niece's knee. " He keeps 
 it on his desk right before his eyes, poor fellow ! 
 Ain't she a beauty?" 
 
 Kate Meagley was not sentimental or romantic, 
 although she tried with all her might to look both. 
 She believed to the end of her days that the qualm 
 which pumped the colour from her lips and the 
 blood from her heart until her feet were clay-cold 
 and the fingers holding the frame were so tremulous 
 that she had to steady her arm on the elbow of the 
 chair to get a full look at the pictured face, was a 
 presentiment. 
 
 Her mother considered her the beauty, par Emi- 
 nence, among her five daughters. She was unques- 
 tionably the clever one of the family. Her figure 
 mother and sisters called " willowy," her manners 
 "fascinating." The "baby stare" of the bluish-gray 
 eyes they thought bewitchingly appealing. The bow 
 of the short upper lip rested so lightly upon the lower 
 and fuller that she seemed always on the point of 
 speaking. Lawless Ralph Folger said of his sister's 
 companion that " her mouth was forever at half- 
 cock." The perfect arch of her eyebrows followed 
 the round of her raised lids, as she talked. 
 
 Two sisters had preceded her into the world, and 
 two had come after her. One of the sayings that 
 gained her a household reputation as a wit was her 
 designation of herself as " the Middle Miss Meagley." 
 Her father was a prosperous farmer and gristmill 
 owner when she was old enough to " take an educa- 
 tion." She was sent to a fashionable boarding-school 
 in Philadelphia, where Fate did her a kind turn in 
 assigning her as a room-mate to Ruth Folger. 
 
 The Folgers were even then the richest people of 
 the section. When oil was struck at fifty points on 
 their large farm, they became forthwith millionaires.
 
 38 Dr. Dale 
 
 The Meagleys were ruined by the same " boom." 
 The father, hitherto the most phlegmatic man in the 
 conservative Dutch neighbourhood, dashed into spec- 
 ulation, as a roadster becomes a runaway at an un- 
 expected minute, and, like the roadster, he ran with 
 both eyes shut. He would sink wells at his own 
 charges, locating them according to a secret system 
 of his own devising. Money was raised for the wild 
 ventures by mortgaging his ancestral acres when the 
 savings of years were exhausted by bills for tubing, 
 drills, derricks, and gangs of high-priced labourers. 
 Out of twelve wells sunk in formerly productive 
 fields but two yielded a drop of oil, and these, it 
 was proved within a month, were merely shallow 
 " pockets," soon and utterly pumped dry. He was 
 at the last gasp of hope when the fatal freshet that 
 quenched the light of twenty human lives descended 
 upon his homestead, levelling it to the soil which had 
 of late been so obdurate to his desires. He and his 
 family barely escaped with their lives. 
 
 Katharine Meagleyand Ruth Folgerwere snatched 
 by the heroic rescuing party from imminent death. 
 The elder Folger had died six months before, after a 
 widowerhood of ten years. His son and daughter 
 were the wealthiest of the scores of speculators who 
 had drawn prizes in the oil-lottery. When the scat- 
 tered Meagleys found one another after the flood, 
 they found also the dawn of better days. The Fol- 
 ger brother and sister paid off their mortgages, and 
 settled upon Mr. Meagley a sum sufficient to rebuild 
 his houses and restock his farm. 
 
 The ravening for drill, pump, and derrick awoke 
 mightily within him at sight of the money. He 
 " plunged " with the madness of a stock-gambler on a 
 rising market. Guided by a hazel-wand, cut at the 
 full of the moon at midnight by himself, with incanta- 
 tions known to none else, he sank ten other wells as
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley 39 
 
 barren as the first twelve. His last dollar went into 
 a hole in a hill-top which, as we shall see later on in 
 our story, furnished a never-stale joke to oil-pro- 
 spectors throughout the land. 
 
 Excitement and failures, the reproaches of the 
 family he had ruined, and lastly, the ridicule of a 
 heartless public, were too much for a never-strong 
 brain. At sixty, the victim of the petroleum craze 
 was a semi-imbecile, to be looked after like a peevish 
 child by those who were unable to support them- 
 selves. Ambitious and false hopes had made his 
 children useless and supercilious until aspiration and 
 expectation flickered into darkness. They were 
 shabby-genteel pensioners upon more fortunate neigh- 
 bours and the relatives they had despised in the 
 " better days " continually upon their tongues. 
 
 Joachim Bowersox, whose sister Timothy Meagley 
 had married, made over to her a house and garden 
 in Pitvale which had been part of their father's estate. 
 It was one of the mercies for which Mrs. Bowersox 
 returned thanks without ceasing that nobody had ever 
 suspected the presence of what she termed, with 
 unintentional alliteration, ' that orful oil,' upon the 
 property owned by her, and, before her, by steady, 
 sensible folk who feared God and eschewed such evils 
 as digging in good farm lands for what the Almighty 
 had seen fit to bury out of sight. Nevertheless it 
 was she who suggested the deed of gift to her unfor- 
 tunate sister-in-law, and not a syllable ever escaped 
 her voluble lips in conversation with any member of 
 the humbled family which could remind her of the 
 father's folly. 
 
 Between the Folgers and the Bowersoxes, the wo- 
 men and their hapless burden were housed, clothed, 
 and fed, bounty accepted by the beneficiaries as 
 part, and but a small part, of the world's debt to 
 them. Ruth Folgei had kept her old school-fellow
 
 40 Dr. Dale 
 
 with her since the misfortune that crippled the heiress 
 for life. The gossips, as a body, believed that Kate 
 was provided for handsomely for the remainder of her 
 natural existence, and were unanimous in the opinion 
 that she had fallen squarely upon her feet the night 
 that cost Ruth Folger one of hers. 
 
 It was not a satisfied, much less a happy woman 
 whose skirt Jeff was fastening securely, with pins 
 taken from the sheeted furniture, to the best brocade 
 chair in his mother's front parlour. The wearer was 
 absorbed in the study of Myrtle Bell's picture. It 
 was painted upon ivory, and exquisite in execution, 
 lifelike in expression. 
 
 " Looks-if it must be the very image of her," com- 
 mented Mrs. Bowersox, going on with her scrub- 
 bing. " You can see the resemblance to her brother, 
 particularly about the eyes; though, for that matter, 
 you could n't tell about the mouth, his being covered 
 by his beard." 
 
 "/should n't call her pretty, all the same," Kate 
 could not help saying out of the strange pain that 
 had clutched her heart. " Of course, it is beautifully 
 done. The eyes have a sort of bold look, some- 
 thing that says she is used to admiration and 
 expects it. She has quite the air of a society girl. 
 I 'm afraid she "11 find Pitvale awfully slow. I don't 
 suppose there are ten families here she 'd be willing 
 to visit with." 
 
 She was talking against thought. Mrs. Bowersox 
 did not surmise the effort it cost her to appear 
 calmly critical when she would have liked to throw 
 the presentment of the spirited, high-bred face upon 
 the floor and dash her heel through it. The rich 
 but simple costume was artistically indicated, not 
 given in tawdry detail. A velvet corsage of dull Vene- 
 tian red was softened by a scarf of old lace looped 
 upon one shoulder by a single rose of darker red.
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley 41 
 
 The effect of the whole was to show the critic to her- 
 self as a provincial dowdy. And this, despite the 
 cashmere gown chosen because Dr. Dale had ad- 
 mired that particular shade of golden brown, and 
 made up by a Philadelphia modiste. Her velvet 
 toque of the same colour, the tawny pheasant's 
 breast banding it shading into black, was in perfect 
 taste. Ruth Folger had said so, and her judgment 
 was indisputable. The costume would have become 
 a warm brunette; a decided blonde of brilliant com- 
 plexion might have carried it off successfully. The 
 Middle Miss Meagley, belonging to the great ma- 
 jority of women who are neither brunette nor blonde, 
 thus arrayed, was a picture done in poorly managed 
 sepia washes. 
 
 The antique silver frame an artistic treasure, 
 although this she did not suspect seemed to burn 
 her fingers. She sickened in gazing at what it 
 enclosed. She laid it down hastily upon a sofa 
 near by. 
 
 " I must go now, Aunt Sarepta ! " shaking off the 
 queer possession and speaking in her usual tone. 
 " You won't forget my message to the doctor? And 
 I do hope Miss Bell won't put you to much more 
 trouble ! It seems a pity to have your house upset 
 in this way in such disagreeable weather. Some 
 travelled people are disgustingly full of foreign airs 
 and graces, but maybe this one is n't." 
 
 Starting to her feet, she raised the heavy chair 
 with her. Result, a zigzag tear across the front 
 breadth of the skirt whose colour Dr. Dale had com- 
 mended, the unpaid bill for which she had received 
 that morning.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 MYRTLE BELL 
 
 " With breath of thyme and bees that hum, 
 Across the years you seem to come ; 
 Across the years, with nymph-like head, 
 And wind-blown brows unfilleted, 
 A girlish form that slips the bud, 
 In lines of unspoiled symmetry, 
 A girlish form that stirs the blood 
 With pulse of Spring Autinoe ! " 
 
 MYRTLE BELL stood at the front win- 
 dow of her sitting-room, looking down 
 upon Pitvale and, across it, to the en- 
 vironing hills. The January sunlight 
 made cruel disclosures of the peculiarly 
 unlovely features of the view. Roads and houses in 
 the collieries of England and Wales were as grimy 
 and as mean as the shabbiest sheds crowding upon 
 one another in the lower levels of the town. The 
 pitchy smoke vomited by towering chimneys and 
 pipes belonged to every manufacturing village. 
 The forest of spidery derricks bewildered her. 
 
 " It was too dark to see them last night," she had 
 said to her brother at breakfast. " You may imagine 
 the effect produced upon me when I drew up the 
 window-shade this morning. For an instant my head 
 went around like a top. It was as if a tidal wave 
 had huddled all the windmills in Holland and Lom- 
 bardy into an area of six square miles. Only, 
 your giants are armless. They have an incomplete 
 look that worries me. It is like ' This man began 
 to build and was not able to finish.' " 
 
 " That 's true hereabouts a great many times ! " 
 sighed the hostess, shaking a mournful head at the 
 coffee-pot she was tilting over Joachim's third cup.
 
 Myrtle Bell 43 
 
 Myrtle looked inquiringly at John. 
 
 " I supposed that oil was one of the sure staples of 
 commerce?" 
 
 John's reply had added distrust to the disfavour 
 with which she now regarded the hideous structures. 
 
 " Success would be their only excuse for being," 
 she was saying to herself. " I wish I had not heard 
 how many ruined fortunes and miserable people 
 they stand for!" 
 
 She was glad the Bowersox farmhouse stood upon 
 a hill and well away from the town. Mrs. Bowersox 
 had explained eagerly how seldom the smell of raw 
 petroleum and the reek of the engines was really 
 disagreeable to her household. 
 
 " Never, you may say, unless the wind is due east 
 and brings it right over to us. And most of our 
 winds are north, south, and west. Otherwise I don't 
 know what would happen to us. They do say the 
 smell is healthy, especially for weak lungs. When 
 they first began to bring oil out of the flinty rock, 
 as the Bible says, it was used mostly as an eyent- 
 ment for rheumatics and sprains and such. There 
 were those what physicked with it internal poor, 
 ignorant dears ! It was peddled through the country 
 as a nat'ral cure for pretty nigh everything. For my 
 part, after all is said and done, I Ve wished ten thousand 
 times we had stuck to whales and never found out that 
 the nasty-smelly stuff would burn in lamps." 
 
 " I never dreamed that kerosene could be interest- 
 ing," said Myrtle, raising a sunny face to her brother 
 when he joined her at the window. " I mean to 
 cultivate its acquaintance in all its branches. One 
 thing puzzles me. An old guide said to ' Adiron- 
 dack Murray,' that ' folks was gittin' so thick in the 
 woods a feller 'd have to chalk his legs to make sure 
 they was n't somebody else's.' How do the people 
 know their own wells from their neighbours'? I see
 
 44 Dr. Dale 
 
 no fences or barriers of any kind. It must be worse 
 than the danger of milking other people's cows in 
 a grazing country." 
 
 Bell put his arm about her, and she leaned her 
 head against him. The very sound of the fresh 
 young voice, the cultivated modulations reviving 
 memories of home and Lang Syne was inexpres- 
 sibly sweet. It was impossible not to stoop to kiss 
 the laughing mouth. 
 
 " I 've got to make up for lost time ! " he pleaded. 
 "I hadn't kissed a woman in three years until I met 
 you on the steamer, the other day." 
 
 " Poor boy ! Don't apologise ! I like it ! " returned 
 the sister, frankly. " And I like being here, Jack ! 
 It 's all so different from anything else I ever saw. 
 I am revelling in anticipation of the larks we are 
 going to have together if, as I hope, it is n't really 
 necessary for me to know one mutilated windmill 
 from another in order to become popular with your 
 parishioners." 
 
 " My parishioners or the bulk of them are 
 operatives, not well-owners, although there are rich 
 men in our congregation. They are a motley crew 
 that came to me instead of my going to look for 
 them. My church you can see the spire peeping 
 over the hill to your left was in the heart of an 
 agricultural region when -I was called to it six years 
 ago. The first well was sunk that year. After that, 
 if not the deluge, speculators came in upon us 
 like a flood, and all our pleasant places were laid 
 waste. I had planned different things for myself, but 
 my work was cut out for me. I could not shirk it." 
 
 A soft hand stole up to his cheek. 
 
 " Of course you could n't ! Go on ! " said a gentle 
 voice. 
 
 " It is a hand-to-hand fight with such evils as the 
 country parson I expected to be would never have
 
 Myrtle Bell 4 5 
 
 encountered had he lived to be as old as Adam. 
 The wisdom of the serpent is at a higher premium in 
 Pitvale than the harmlessness of the dove. Do you 
 see a flag flying over a peaked roof over there? 
 That is The Bachelors' Club. You heard my battle 
 over it with Dr. Hartley in New York, the evening he 
 dined with us. I won't weary you by going over the 
 ground again. I could n't make him see the subject 
 from my standpoint, and there are many, many 
 others like him. Not being here, he cannot compre- 
 hend that we must adapt our missionary methods in 
 some measure to the conditions we encounter. 
 
 " I should not be afraid to take you through the 
 Club at any hour of the day or night. We look up 
 decent homes for unmarried men ; we visit them 
 when they are hurt or sick; we hob-nob with them 
 over the billiard-table, in the gymnasium, the read- 
 ing-room, and in what my worthy but disapprov- 
 ing brother the Rev. Cotton Mather Welsh calls 
 our ' saloon.' If they are in trouble, we help them 
 out to the best of our ability ; if they fall, we pick 
 them up and encourage them to stand 
 
 " I have broken my word to you ! You should n't 
 have said, ' Go on ! ' ' 
 
 " I am glad I did ! If I am to help you, I must be 
 taken into your confidence. Jack ! " her eyes shining 
 with enthusiasm. " Do you know, I think all this is 
 grand? And that it came into my mind while you 
 and Dr. Hartley were talking, the other night, how 
 fault was found with One who associated with publi- 
 cans and sinners, eating what they ate, and drinking 
 what they drank, and enduring patiently all sorts of 
 vulgar and repulsive sinners because He loved 
 them! I recollect" in a lighter tone "some- 
 thing our dear mother said to a woman who would not 
 allow her maids to have what she called ' followers ' 
 in her kitchen. Our mother answered, ' If we don't
 
 46 Dr. Dale 
 
 provide places where they can have respectable 
 visitors at proper hours, they will find for themselves 
 disreputable places and improper company at unlaw- 
 ful hours, being only human beings like ourselves ! ' 
 It is easy to see where you got your sound common- 
 sense and independent thought." 
 
 " I have n't a monopoly of them," returned the 
 brother, stroking the pretty head nestling in his 
 breast. " Now that my sermonising is over, for the 
 present, let me do the errand that brought me 
 across the hall." 
 
 " I hoped you came because you could n't live an- 
 other minute without seeing me ! " 
 
 " It goes without saying that that affection is 
 chronic. But my special object was to ask what I 
 can do for you this forenoon to make you more com- 
 fortable. Don't you want me to move furniture 
 and things? Or to unstrap trunks, or lift boxes?" 
 His survey of the premises was a comical mixture of 
 complacency and deprecation. " A man is such a 
 helpless duffer in these affairs ! Honestly, do things 
 look to you tolerable, on the whole, anything like 
 ship-shape, you know?" 
 
 "Seaworthy, taut, and trim?" mocked the girl. 
 " I shall like the tout ensemble better when you sit 
 down in that chair and your little sister sits upon 
 her big brother's knee. Now ! " settling herself 
 with an audible sigh of satisfaction, " that is more 
 ship-shape ! Presently, after you have listened to 
 my merry prattle as long as you can bear it, and have 
 betaken yourself to your study, or to pastoral visita- 
 tions, or to The Bachelors' Club what a deliciously 
 dissipated sound that has ! I shall unpack the two 
 big boxes over there, hang up photographs and 
 etchings, spread a bit of oriental embroidery on that 
 marble-topped table a marble slab looks so blank 
 without an inscription ! dispose rny books and a vase
 
 Myrtle Bell 47 
 
 or two wherever they will look their best, pull the 
 six stuffed chairs away from the wall to which they 
 are sticking closer than half-a-dozen brothers, throw 
 a few cushions of many colours into the sharp corners 
 of that enchanting old mahogany sofa, and " check- 
 ing the breathless flow of words " would Mrs. 
 Bowersox object, do you suppose?" 
 
 " Object ! The room is yours as long as you will 
 glorify it by your abiding. That blessed woman 
 objects to nothing that will add even a unit to the 
 sum of human happiness. Mrs. Sarepta Bowersox is, 
 to quote Chadband, ' to me a gem. She is to me 
 a jewel ! ' 
 
 " A Koh-i-noor ! " suggested Myrtle, roguishly. 
 
 " If you will. A mountain of light in several 
 senses. The gossips say she manages her husband. 
 He would not be an apology for an entity but for 
 her. He drank hard before his marriage. She 
 makes him so comfortable that he does not feel the 
 need of liquor. There is no harm in him, and very 
 little of anything else. An old neighbour told me 
 that ' Sarepty married Jo'chim out o' pity. He was 
 sech a meachin' cre'tur ! that miserable that not even 
 a dog would foller him.' I can believe it. She can't 
 see any creature in distress without trying to help 
 it " 
 
 " Poor, dear thing ! " interpolated Myrtle ; and both 
 laughed in sheer light-heartedness. 
 
 It was good to be together again, and rattling on 
 " in the old, sweet way ! " 
 
 " That just covers the ground for her," said Bell. 
 " To be ' poor ' is to be ' dear ' to her big, deep, warm 
 heart. Have you had much talk with her yet?" 
 
 "A full hour which was also a good hour 
 after breakfast. She came in here, after the manner 
 of another poor dear " pinching her brother's ear 
 " to make sure I was comfortable. She told me
 
 48 Dr. Dale 
 
 several dozen things in sixty minutes, none of them 
 unkind ; among others, that she ' had never realised 
 Jeff, and never expected to.' " 
 
 John shouted with laughter. Myrtle eyed him 
 quizzically, her head upon one side, like a meditative 
 mocking bird. 
 
 " He is a mystery ! I can compare him to nothing 
 but witch-hazel, the starry tufts that bloom out upon 
 bare branches in November when all the leaves are 
 dead and gone, and wintry old age seems to have set 
 in. If I had had the naming of him, he would be 
 ' Hazel.' Such a winsome baby as he is ! I am 
 looking forward to great times with Jeff. His mother 
 told me, too, that he was 'born to accidents as the 
 sparks fly upward.' " 
 
 " Dale says he marks that day with a white stone 
 in which he is not called upon to stanch, to stick, or 
 to splinter," remarked the diverted listener. 
 
 " That reminds me to ask when your paragon is 
 likely to materialise for my benefit. If he could 
 guess how wildly curious I am to see him, common 
 humanity would drag him to the light. I have been 
 here fourteen fifteen hours, and never a glimpse 
 of His Serene Highness have I had." 
 
 " Poor dear ! " returned John. " I may say it 
 seriously of him. He was called into the country 
 yesterday afternoon to see a child who had convul- 
 sions. At eight o'clock last evening a messenger 
 came in hot haste to know where he could be found. 
 A man was dying Come in!" 
 
 A knock at the door was the precursor of the 
 to Myrtle amazing apparition of a smart coloured 
 footman. He presented a large flat box to the 
 young lady with a flourishing bow. 
 
 " Miss Folger's compliments to Miss Bell, and 
 she hopes Miss Bell are feeling quite rested after her 
 journey."
 
 Myrtle Bell 49 
 
 Before Miss Bell, who had risen from her brother's 
 knee, could speak, John answered for her. 
 
 " Good-morning, Arthur ! Please say to Miss 
 Folger that Miss Bell and I thank her for the 
 flowers, and that Miss Bell is well, and will do 
 herself the pleasure of calling very soon." 
 
 " Jack ! " ejaculated his sister, gazing after the 
 august figure as the closing door took it from her 
 sight. " This in Pitvale ! I am transfixed ! " 
 
 " Let me break the spell by opening the box ! " 
 undoing the string and removing the wrappings. 
 
 He handed her the card laid upon the inner layer 
 of tissue paper, then drew back to let her reveal the 
 treasures for herself. 
 
 "'Miss Folger,'" read Myrtle. ' With a cordial 
 welcome to Pitvale' Oh-h-h ! Smell the roses ! " 
 
 With the removal of the coverings a slow wave of 
 perfume diffused itself through the room. Layers 
 of half-blown roses of the choicest varieties, long- 
 stemmed, glossy-leaved, and dewy, filled the box. 
 In silence and with light loving touches, the girl 
 lifted and laid upon the centre-table, first, Jacque- 
 minots, then, American Beauties, next, La France, 
 Katherine Mermets, finally, a glorious mass of Gloire 
 de Dijons. 
 
 She sank again to John's knee, clasped her hands 
 like one faint with ecstasy, and devoured them with 
 her eyes. 
 
 "Jack ! " in a half-whisper. " It reminds me of an 
 altar, all alight with fire from heaven ! Who is 
 she?" 
 
 John's face was gravely tender; his eyes shone 
 softly as when they had rested upon the little sister 
 in the earlier months of their orphanhood. 
 
 " Do you recollect writing to ask me about an 
 account you had seen in an American paper of the 
 damage done in Pitvale by water and by fire?" 
 
 4
 
 50 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Can I ever forget it? And what you did on that 
 dreadful day? And how you left me to find it out 
 from the papers and other people's letters?" 
 
 " Why should I distress you when the danger was 
 over? Miss Folger was seriously injured at that time. 
 She was caught in the floating debris. One foot was 
 amputated " compressing his lips and tightening 
 his fist at the recollection. " There was some hurt 
 to the other leg to the muscles and nerves. She 
 has not walked a step since." 
 
 " Deformed ! and a woman ! How terrible ! " 
 
 " You will take that word back when you see her. 
 She is the happiest person I know, and one of the 
 most useful. You heard me promise that you would 
 call soon. I shall be disappointed if you and she 
 are not friends. We Dale and I owe her more 
 than I can tell you. Her brother built the club- 
 house, and she furnished it. The instruments of the 
 band were her gift. The first concert was in honour 
 of her birthday, and in her grounds. It was the 
 prettiest affair ! Dale and Ralph Folger managed 
 everything. The members of the Club were there 
 in their best clothes, every taint of oil scoured and 
 soaked out of them. Hundreds of other operatives 
 came with their wives and children. It was like an 
 Old World fete. Set Mrs. Bowersox going upon that 
 tack some day. She '11 be crying before she gets 
 through. She was doing that most of the time 
 during what she calls ' the musical picnic.' " 
 
 " Why can't we go to see Miss Folger this very 
 afternoon?" asked Myrtle, impulsively. "Will she 
 think that I am presuming upon her kindness?" 
 
 "Presuming! my dear girl ! " 
 
 An imperious rattle of the door-knob broke off the 
 sentence. 
 
 " That is your witch-hazel ! " said Bell, laughing. 
 And without changing his position or his sister's, he
 
 Myrtle Bell 51 
 
 called, " Try, try again, my man ! Don't give up 
 the ship ! " 
 
 A firmer grasp turned the knob, then the owner 
 of the helping hand stepped back as Jeff launched 
 himself into the room, arms wide dispread, every 
 hair of his many curls flying loosely abroad in the 
 electric excitement which shrilled his voice and 
 mixed up proper names upon his tongue, 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Bale ! Dr. Dell has the beautifullest dawg 
 you ever saw ! And he won't bite, either ! "
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 " AFTER ALL THESE BLACK YEARS " 
 
 " Oh, let the solid ground 
 
 Not fail beneath my feet 
 Before my life has found 
 
 What some have found so sweet ! 
 Then, let come what may ! 
 
 What matter if I go mad ? 
 I shall have had my day." 
 
 DR. DALE had had a trying night 
 The preceding evening he set his face 
 homeward upon leaving his office, worn 
 out by a heavy day's work which had 
 stretched from a heart-failure case at six 
 A.M. to a professional call upon Miss Folger at 
 five-thirty in the afternoon. 
 
 Upon the porch of the Bowersox house he was 
 met by a peremptory summons which dragged him 
 three miles into the country to visit a dying child. 
 From her death-bed he was hurried back to Pitvale 
 to pass the rest of the night in another death- , 
 chamber, under circumstances yet more harrowing 
 to the sensibilities. 
 
 It was nearly nine o'clock in the morning when he 
 got home after the sleepless toil of twenty-seven 
 hours. He was used to these happenings. Another 
 man would have felt like a limp rag. The effect of 
 the continuous strain upon him was to give him a 
 feeling of utter desolation, weariness, and hopelessness. 
 He could see no future, he could recall no past, that 
 was not spent in a joyless routine of overwork, in 
 tragically unsympathetic environment unrelieved by 
 any recreative or home joys.
 
 "After all these Black Years" 53 
 
 Passionately domestic in temperament, he had no 
 home ; the deep, loving heart beneath the impassive 
 exterior found no outlet save in his friendship for 
 John Bell. And to a jaded, overwrought man the 
 friendly regard of one of his own sex leaves some- 
 thing to be desired. 
 
 These reflections strayed languidly and depressingly 
 through the wearied physician's mind as he bathed, 
 made his toilet, and ate a perfunctory breakfast, 
 the hostess, conversant with his moods, kindly re- 
 fraining from talking while she waited upon him. 
 His coffee was fresh, hot, clear, and black, the toast 
 he preferred to muffin or roll, delicately crisped, the 
 rasher a translucent curl of savouriness. To tempt 
 the appetite and so build up the inner and outer 
 man, was the Bowersox method of expressing sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 Aware of this, Dale said, " You are very good to 
 me, and I thank you ! " in leaving the dining-room. 
 
 He would go to his chamber for a few hours of 
 sorely needed sleep before setting the treadmill going 
 for another day. He knew that when he awoke the 
 clouds raised by weariness of body would have rolled 
 from his brain, and he would return to his life-work 
 with a new heart. He had marvellous recuperative 
 powers. 
 
 Just now that heart, as he tramped through the 
 dim, chill hall-way leading from the dining-room in 
 the rear extension of the rambling old farmstead to 
 the main staircase, was as heavy as lead. Engrossed 
 in his gloomy musings, he almost trod upon a tiny 
 busy figure working with both hands at the knob of 
 the front parlour door. 
 
 Dale heard John Bell's encouraging call to Jeff's 
 efforts, and turned back from the stair-foot. Loosen- 
 ing the baby's tight grip, he gave the knob a twist, 
 pushed the door open, and would have passed on
 
 54 Dr. Dale 
 
 when his eye was caught by a wave of red light. He 
 halted, breathless and amazed, staring out of the 
 dusk into the room before him. 
 
 The first glimpse showed him nothing but a riot- 
 ing, pulsing carnival of colour and radiance. Little 
 by little, the scene took definite form. 
 
 The long-disused parlour was flooded by morning 
 sunlight reflected in a ruddy glow from the red 
 paper of the walls, sinking into and bringing out 
 richly the shaded crimsons of the carpet. A roaring 
 fire of logs was in the chimney-place, blending with 
 the stream of sunlit warmth that surged out through 
 the open door. 
 
 In the centre of the apartment, giving the key-note 
 of the whole wonderful colour-scheme, was the mass 
 of roses upon the table. 
 
 Beside them stood a girl. 
 
 A broad band of sunlight revelled in the brown 
 hair piled loosely upon her head, changing it into a 
 saint's aureole, and enhanced the vivid colour of her 
 cardinal-red morning gown. 
 
 So perhaps on Dante, shivering between the high 
 gray walls of the narrow Florentine street in the chill 
 of the winter morning, flashed the vision of Beatrice 
 on her way to early Mass, her " dress of a most noble 
 colour, a subdued and becoming crimson," lighting up 
 the dusky little thoroughfare and diffusing immortal 
 life and warmth into the boy-lover's being. 
 
 The girl faced the door, one hand sunk lightly in 
 the glory of the roses. 
 
 The tableau lasted for the quarter of a second, but 
 long enough to stamp itself for all time upon the 
 heart and memory of the toil-beaten man hesitating 
 in the cold passage-way. Around him was frosty 
 gloom. Behind him was the recollection of dying 
 groans and the hoarse screams of delirium. Before 
 him were a passion of sunshine and leaping firelight,
 
 "After all these Black Years" 55 
 
 the perfume of roses, the sweetest face his eyes had 
 ever beheld warmth, colour, beauty Home! 
 
 The scurry and patter of feet upon the oilcloth 
 covering the hall floor dispelled the glamour of the 
 vision. 
 
 Something brushed by Dale and bounded into the 
 room. 
 
 It was a big setter dog. His tawny coat shone 
 like burnished copper in the sunlight, ears and tail 
 were erect. Pausing for an instant to take in the 
 " situation," the canine mind was made up and acted. 
 He writhed ecstatically across the floor, twisting his 
 body into an animated interrogation-point, out of 
 pure joy taking a hundred superfluous pattering 
 steps in his progress, as is the wont of very happy 
 dogs. He made straight for Myrtle Bell, his silky 
 ears standing out at the side of his head like quiver- 
 ing fans, the white ruffled shirt-front on his chest 
 prominent as that of Beau Brummell. 
 
 " Oh ! beautiful ! " cried the girl, dropping to her 
 knees and clasping both arms about the furry neck, 
 while the dog made frantically vain attempts to lick 
 her face. "Beautiful! beautiful! Whose is he? 
 Yours, Jeff? " 
 
 Thomas Jefferson shook his head vehemently, 
 waving aside the honour with one arm, and crooking 
 his right thumb backward in the direction of the 
 hall. 
 
 " Dr. Dale's he is ! I telled you that before," in 
 mild reproof. 
 
 Myrtle arose to her feet. John called heartily, 
 
 " Is that you, old man? What are you standing 
 out there for? Come into the sunshine ! " 
 
 " Yes," answered Dale, speaking and moving as 
 one who fears to awake from a beautiful dream. " I 
 I beg pardon! Yes! I will come into the sun- 
 shine ! "
 
 56 Dr. Dale 
 
 He stepped across the threshold. 
 
 Before Bell could speak her name Myrtle had 
 advanced, her hand outstretched, her face alight with 
 cordial friendliness. 
 
 " You and I must not meet as strangers, Dr. Dale ! 
 John has told me so much about you I feel that we 
 are already friends." 
 
 The warm, firm clasp of her fingers thrilled through 
 every nerve and fibre of his frame. Up to this 
 moment he had not known how utterly weary and 
 worn he was. The frank hand-grasp revealed to him 
 his fatigue of body and soul, his loneliness, the pale 
 monotone of his life, as nothing else in years had 
 made him feel it all. He had an insane impulse to 
 lay his face upon the firm little hand and tell the 
 stranger his pain, his worries, his need. 
 
 In the next breath the strong man pulled himself 
 together with an inward sneer at the momentary 
 aberration of intellect, the wavering of will, and 
 replied in commonplace, somewhat formal fashion to 
 Miss Bell's greeting. 
 
 " You look half frozen, Dale," said John, kindly, 
 " and tired to death. Take that big chair by the 
 fire, and thaw yourself out." 
 
 Dale walked over to the fireplace. Myrtle half 
 unconsciously noticed the freedom from embarrass- 
 ment in look and action, as she had the peculiar 
 sweetness and richness of his voice, and, as a moment 
 later, she made note of the instinctive courtesy with 
 which he waited for her to sit down before he sank 
 weariedly into the chair John had pointed out to him. 
 
 Before coming to Pitvale she had made a mental 
 picture of her brother's friend. He was, she had 
 imagined, a simple-minded country practitioner, 
 somewhat shy in the presence of women, and a trifle 
 unpolished, but honest of heart and altogether worthy 
 of the affection Jack bestowed upon him.
 
 "After all these Black Years" 57 
 
 It was a shock to have to tear down this portrait 
 from the wall of her mental gallery, and to substitute 
 the grave, classic visage, prematurely gray hair, and 
 quietly self-assured manner of the man before her. 
 
 Something of this perplexity crept into her expres- 
 sion ; and Dale, seeing without interpreting it, turned 
 the talk from himself. 
 
 " My dog owes you an apology," he said, " for 
 bursting in upon you so unconventionally. You '11 
 overlook it, won't you? When I've had him longer 
 I '11 teach him to wait until he is invited before enter- 
 ing a room. At present, he seems to lack repose of 
 manner." 
 
 " He owes me no apology at all," Myrtle made 
 haste to protest. " He 's the dearest, friendliest dog 
 I ever saw. Look ! He has aesthetic tastes, too." 
 
 The setter was standing in a patch of sunshine by 
 the table, his head raised, sniffing placidly at a huge 
 red rose that overhung the edge. Satisfied as to the 
 quality and quantity of its perfume, he marched with 
 dignity to the rug and curled himself upon it with a 
 complacent sigh, resting his nose between his paws 
 and blinking contentedly at the flaming logs. 
 
 " What lovely eyes he has ! " went on Myrtle. 
 : ' Their deep brown harmonises perfectly with his 
 golden-red coat. His hair is true auburn." 
 
 " It reminds me a little of Miss Kate Meagley's 
 new dress," suggested Dale, turning to John, " the 
 one that got so badly torn last week." 
 
 The namesake of the Father of Democracy, at 
 mention of the mishap, gazed abstractedly at the ceil- 
 ing as one who having ears heareth not, then recalled 
 a pressing engagement elsewhere and departed after 
 the manner of a very small, very white snow-squall. 
 
 " Personalities never please Thomas Jefferson," 
 laughed Dale, crossing the room to close the door 
 the snow-squall had left open. " There is no surer
 
 58 Dr. Dale 
 
 way of sending him about his business than by allud- 
 ing to his misdeeds." 
 
 "Where did the dog come from?" queried Bell. 
 " You speak very grandly of ' my dog ' and ' when 
 I 've had him longer.' I suppose you want to im- 
 press my sister with the idea that the possession of a 
 thoroughbred setter is no novelty to you. But you 
 must make some allowances for my curiosity. Is he 
 another testimonial from a G. P. ? " 
 
 " What is a G. P. ? " asked Myrtle. " Is that 
 another oil-region technical term?" 
 Dale answered with affected gravity, 
 " It is ' short ' for Grateful Patient. You see, when 
 an invalid gets well, the delusion sometimes lingers 
 in his mind that he owes his recovery to the doctor 
 who attended him, and he pays off the debt of grati- 
 tude with a plaster cast of ' Checkers at the Old 
 Farm,' or, if the late patient be a woman, by a pair of 
 misfit slippers worked in gray moss-roses and scarlet 
 violets. Such offerings embody all the gratitude the 
 G. P. is capable of feeling. It does n't extend to the 
 sordid lengths of paying doctor's bills." 
 
 "And is this beautiful dog a G. P. offering? " 
 "Not of that kind exactly," replied the doctor, 
 now in real earnest. "A poor chap died last night. 
 I had attended him in his illness. He had no money, 
 not a penny to bury him with. Just before he 
 became unconscious he thanked me for the little I 
 had been able to do for him, and asked me to take 
 his dog in payment, and, incidentally, to give the 
 poor brute a good home." 
 
 ' Who was he? " inquired John, with interest. 
 ' Svensen." 
 
 ' He has gone, then? Poor fellow ! " 
 ' Yes, I was there all night. He died at sunrise." 
 ' That man," said John to his sister, " might serve 
 as a fair example of the need in a certain class of
 
 "jifter all these Black Years" 59 
 
 such work as is done by The Bachelors' Club. He 
 was a Swede, a day-labourer, a good worker, but fond 
 of liquor. Some of our fellows tried hard to get him 
 into the Club, but he ' had heard we had rules there, 
 and he liked his liberty.' In other words he pre- 
 ferred to guzzle bad whiskey in dirty clothes at The 
 Oilman's Rest to cleanliness and pure beer at the 
 Club-House. Mr. Welsh looked upon him as a 
 highly promising convert, a year ago, but when 
 threats of eternal punishment ceased to frighten him, 
 he took to drink again." 
 
 " Jack ! that is the first bitter thing I have heard 
 you say," remonstrated Myrtle. 
 
 " God forgive me for it, dear ! Welsh is a good 
 man, but he will not understand that ' con-vert ' means 
 to turn about, and that we must follow up the con- 
 vert, hold him by the shoulders, and keep him in the 
 new path. It is a work of time and endless patience, 
 ' here a little and there a little, line upon line and 
 precept upon precept.' Svensen got into a fight at 
 The Oilman's Rest, a local saloon, about a week ago. 
 He was drunk at the time. He got a stab in the 
 lungs from an Italian's knife. Pneumonia set in a 
 day or so later. This is the end ! " 
 
 The sincere mournfulness in the young preacher's 
 voice and manner kept the others mute for a minute. 
 
 Then Dale remarked quietly : " Welsh was with 
 him to the last. I wish I could bring myself to like 
 that little man ! " 
 
 " He is a good man," reiterated Bell, in a tone of 
 profound conviction, " a man who would go to the 
 stake for his faith." 
 
 " Or his prejudices ! " subjoined the doctor. " He 
 nursed Svensen as tenderly as a woman could. It 
 was in language alone that he was harsh. I ven- 
 tured to suggest to him last night that words of hope 
 and comfort might ease a parting soul more than his
 
 60 Dr. Dale 
 
 promises of the fate that awaits evil-doers. He wheeled 
 upon me with a text beginning, ' Except j repent ' " 
 
 " ' Ye shall all likewise perish/ " supplied John, in 
 reverent sadness. 
 
 " That is it. I had n't the heart to be angry with 
 him. He was so terribly in earnest. All this must 
 be stupid talk to you, Miss Bell?" 
 
 " Anything but that ! " asserted the girl, warmly. 
 " I am interested in every detail of the work you and 
 my brother are carrying on so nobly." 
 
 A slight flush crossed Dale's face at the frank 
 avowal. 
 
 " It is he, not I, who does the ' noble ' part of the 
 work," he said quickly. " It falls to my share to 
 patch up such parts of the machinery as get out of 
 repair." 
 
 "Nonsense!" interjected Bell. "Why, Myrtle, 
 these poor people fairly worship him. He slaves for 
 them, night and day. Only last week " 
 
 "Are those flowers Pitvale products, or did they, 
 too, come from New York to brighten up the oil- 
 lands? " asked Dale, abruptly, shutting off his friend's 
 encomiums. 
 
 " They were sent to me by Miss Folger," replied 
 Myrtle. " John says she is always doing things to 
 make life pleasant for others." 
 
 " He is right. She does it by stealth generally. 
 For example, when I called there yesterday " 
 
 John took him up. 
 
 " You were there yesterday ! Was anything the 
 matter?" 
 
 " Nothing serious. Miss Meagley sent for me to 
 prescribe for Miss Folger's headache which went off 
 before I got there." 
 
 " Folger ! " repeated Myrtle, thoughtfully. " I met 
 a man in Venice last year who spelled his name in 
 the same way. We pronounced it Foalger."
 
 "After all these Black Years'" 61 
 
 " It may have been her brother ! " exclaimed John. 
 " He was in Italy last winter. What manner of man 
 was he? " 
 
 Myrtle laughed. 
 
 " A jolly, good-natured, whimsical fellow, who 
 spent money in ways that made sleepy Italians open 
 their eyes. He was infatuated by gondolas and gon- 
 doliers, and bought one. He would row it himself, 
 and invited every American he met to go out with 
 him. He learned to handle the long oar as well 
 as a native-born gondolier, and to shout ' Stall ! ' 
 and ' Premi ! ' and ' Gia-J' at the right turnings. 
 At the end of a week he gave the gondola to a 
 beggar he met in the Piazza San Marco. I asked 
 him why he selected that particular beggar, and he 
 said, ' Because he 's the only man in four continents 
 whose hair is the precise colour of mine. The coin- 
 cidence deserves notice.' " 
 
 A burst of laughter from her auditors greeted the 
 anecdote. 
 
 " That is Ralph Folger, among a million ! " cried 
 John. " His hair was ? " 
 
 " Very, very red ! And his name was Ralph ! 
 What a little world we live in ! " 
 
 " The hair settles the question," concluded John. 
 " Ralph is very proud of the colour. He calls it 
 ' Schenectady hair,' because, as he says, ' it is 
 twenty miles from Auburn.' The gondola prank 
 is on a par with his performance at the Joseph 
 Gurney Hotel in Philadelphia. It is one of the very 
 swellest hotels in the country. Folger went there 
 to call upon a friend. He told a bell-boy to take 
 up his card. The boy was busy and impertinent. 
 Ralph hunted up the proprietor and demanded the 
 boy's discharge. The proprietor refused, and Folger 
 lost his temper. 
 
 " ' What price do you want for this joint, any-
 
 62 Dr. Dale 
 
 way ' ? he said. ' Name a sum and I '11 buy you 
 out !' 
 
 " The proprietor thought he was dealing with a 
 crazy man until he heard his name. Then he was 
 all apologies. But Ralph's blood was up. To make 
 a long story short, he leased the hotel for a week. 
 The first thing he did was to discharge the offending 
 bell-boy, and to pay the other boys five dollars 
 apiece to chase him down Chestnut Street with 
 sticks. Lastly, he paid five hundred dollars to the 
 boy's parents not to bring suit, setting the sum 
 himself." 
 
 " Did he make money out of the hotel? " 
 
 " Make money ! You may judge for yourself. 
 All meals were free, and the bar was open to all 
 comers. The only requisite for guests was the pres- 
 entation of an engraved visiting-card. Folger held 
 that nobody who is not more or less respectable has 
 an engraved card. This barred out the tough ele- 
 ment for a while." 
 
 " How did the experiment end? " 
 
 " The story goes that within three days there 
 was n't a guest in another hotel for miles around ; 
 neighbouring saloons put up their shutters out of 
 sheer lack of custom, and ten firms were working over 
 time to turn out engraved visiting-cards. There was 
 a line of people half a mile long standing in the 
 street, night and day, awaiting admission to the 
 Joseph Gurney Hotel. At the end of the week 
 Ralph came back to Pitvale, nearly one hundred 
 thousand dollars out of pocket. But he said he had 
 had the time of his life. He gave each employee 
 fifty dollars as a farewell gift." 
 
 " Your story may be wanting in the elements of 
 probability," said Myrtle. " It has the merit of com- 
 pleteness. In absurdity, it is ' round, and perfect as 
 a star.' "
 
 "After alTthese Black Years" 63 
 
 While the Bells chatted, Dale leaned back with 
 half-shut eyes, yet regardful of the picture before 
 him. The fire was thawing his chilled blood, even 
 as the home-like scene was drawing the frosts of 
 years from his heart. 
 
 " ' Into the sunshine ! ' " he kept repeating mechani- 
 cally to himself as the voices and laughter of happy 
 brother and sister chimed like joy-bells in his ears, 
 and the flames sang and danced up the chimney. 
 "Have I come into the sunshine at last?" 
 
 The dog, too, was thawed out, and began to think 
 he had remained long enough in the background. 
 Getting up, he walked over to Myrtle, and laid one 
 white paw gravely on her lap. She stooped again 
 to pat him. 
 
 " Good old What did you say his name is, 
 Dr. Dale?" 
 
 " I did n't say ! I refrained studiously from say- 
 ing. I can't pronounce it. Svensen said it over 
 several times, but it sounded to me like the trade- 
 mark on a box of safety matches. Won't you re- 
 christen him ? " 
 
 " I ! " 
 
 " Yes and I wonder if you will do me a 
 great favour, Miss Bell?" 
 
 " Certainly ! if I can. What is it ? " 
 
 " I am so busy and so seldom at home that I 
 could never be sure the dog was well cared for. 
 Besides, he is frigidly distant in his manner to me. 
 It is evident that we are not what the Italians call 
 simpatica, he and I. He was as evidently your 
 devoted ' slave at first sight. Won't you, please, 
 let me transfer him to your kind keeping? It will 
 be a great kindness, believe me, both to me and 
 to him ! " 
 
 "A capital notion!" cried John, before Myrtle 
 could decide whether to accept or decline this
 
 64 Dr. Dale 
 
 slightly unconventional offer. " He '11 be lots of 
 company for you, little girl, and I know how you 
 love dogs." 
 
 " The sensible animal has decided for you, Miss 
 Bell," urged Dale. " Let him be nominally mine 
 or yours, I foresee he will be at your heels all the 
 time, and forsake me for you on all occasions. So 
 save yourself the pain of alienating a dog from his 
 owner by becoming yourself his lawful possessor." 
 
 "Thank you ever and ever so much, Dr. Dale! " 
 responded the girl, after an instant's reflection. Her 
 glance was cloudless, her accent cordial. She ex- 
 tended her hand to seal the transfer, looking him 
 frankly in the eyes. " I shall always recollect," 
 she continued, pointing to the flowers while one hand 
 rested on the dog's silky head, " the two beautiful 
 gifts that welcomed my arrival in Pitvale." 
 
 "And you will name him now?" persisted 
 Dale, interrupting her thanks. 
 
 " Of course, if I can think of a name good enough 
 for him." 
 
 " Please" entreated John, " don't call him Rover, 
 or Carlo, or Fido, or Duke, or Towser, or Sport, or 
 Bose ! " 
 
 " Or Hector, Csesar, or Brutus," supplemented 
 Dale, in the same tone. 
 
 " Indeed I shall not do anything so hackneyed. 
 Ah ! " clapping her hands, " the name has come to 
 me like an inspiration, the name of all others that 
 just fits him, and the only one. ' Beautiful ! ' look 
 at me ! And will you look at him? Could anything 
 fit him better?" 
 
 " It is uncommon, at all events," said John, 
 dubiously. 
 
 " It is a stroke of genius ! " declared Dale. " As 
 she says, it is an inspiration. It was the first word 
 she said to him when he rushed into the room and
 
 "After all these Black Tears'" 65 
 
 claimed her as his prospective owner. But don't 
 call his name too often, Miss Bell. You 've made 
 him quite egotistical already, as it is." 
 
 A rap at the door checked the nonsense as deli- 
 cious to one of the participants as it was novel. Mrs. 
 Bowersox's ample person followed the knock. 
 
 " Oh, you are here, Dr. Dale ! I Ve been up to 
 your room looking for you. And I hated to do it, 
 too, for I says to myself, ' He needs sleep more than 
 he does the consolation of religion, so to speak, poor 
 dear gentleman ! ' But there 's a man over at Vil- 
 lard's well that's caught his arm in a chain, poor 
 dear ! and it 's crushed to a jelly, poor thing ! and 
 they Ve sent in a hurry for you to come right off. 
 For, says the hand who came for you, ' we won't have 
 that butchering Kruger, if we have to wait all day.' " 
 
 Dale was on his feet, every trace of lassitude gone, 
 his senses all quick with life. 
 
 " Certainly, Mrs. Bowersox ! Send word that I 
 will be there in ten minutes. Will you tell Case to 
 harness my horse at once?" 
 
 Myrtle looked in vain for any shade of unwilling- 
 ness or ill-humour in the physician's tired face at the 
 call which compelled him to forego sleep for a new 
 " case." She read in his eyes nothing but profes- 
 sional zeal and pity for the injured man. 
 
 As Dale ran down the front steps to jump into the 
 carriage waiting at the bottom, he brushed against 
 the Rev. Cotton Mather Welsh, who was coming 
 slowly up. The doctor passed him with a silent nod, 
 curt but civil, not seeing or caring that the other 
 frowned darkly upon him. 
 
 Again he was saying to his warmed heart : " I 
 am in the sunshine ! After all these black years ! 
 And," with the dogged will-power of a resolute soul, 
 " there I shall stay, Fate willing, while life lasts ! "
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 REV. C. MATHER WELSH 
 
 " A fellow that makes no figure in company and has a mind as 
 narrow as the neck of a vinegar cruet." 
 
 MRS. BOWERSOX'S " second girl " was 
 cursed by nature with a fatal facility for 
 blundering, and, as her mistress put it, 
 for " getting under foot of somebody 
 from the rising of the sun to the going 
 down of the same." 
 
 As she knocked at the door of Miss Bell's parlour 
 with one hand, she turned the knob with the other, 
 and pushed the door open with her foot. 
 
 John was unstrapping a great trunk in the middle 
 of the room. 
 
 "There's one to see you, sir," drawled a voice 
 behind him. 
 
 Glancing under his elbow, he espied a figure in the 
 hall. A stride took him out of the room. As he 
 passed through the door, he shut it. 
 
 "Ah! Mr. Welsh! Good-morning!" With all 
 his good-will, he could not keep the surprised accent 
 out of his greeting. " I did not expect to see you ! 
 Walk into my study, please ! " 
 
 He led the way across the hall, and flung the door 
 wide, ushering the visitor into a room of fair size, 
 fitted up with desk, bookcases, lounge, and chairs. 
 
 " Please take a seat, and excuse me for a minute ! 
 Make yourself at home. I shall be back directly." 
 
 Left to himself, Mr. Welsh gazed hypercritically 
 about him. His eyes, small and sharp as a ferret's,
 
 Rev. C. Mather Welsh 67 
 
 had already taken in every detail of the appoint- 
 ments and actors in the room of which he had had 
 a fleeting glimpse when Gretchen blundered into it. 
 The home-missionary whose parish is the slums 
 soon develops detective genius if he has any apti- 
 tude for his business, unless he be exceptionally 
 stupid. Cotton Mather Welsh might not see the 
 field as John Bell and Egbert Dale saw it, but he 
 was the reverse of dull, and he was born with a 
 retriever's scent for slaughtered game. Added to 
 this was the readiness of the provincial bigot to 
 credit the worst that can be conceived of his fellow- 
 creatures. Believing that the natural man does evil, 
 and that alone, and continually, he was a pious pessi- 
 mist of the most pronounced type. The microscope 
 was never out of his hand, and the lenses had a 
 yellow tinge. 
 
 The flush of flame colour thrown athwart the sober 
 drab of the hall oil-cloth by the opening door, the 
 whiff of rose-scent that flowed outward with the 
 colour, the interior of a parlour that looked sinfully 
 luxurious, were no more lost upon him than they 
 had been upon Dale an hour ago. He even had a 
 view, brief but clear, of the cardinal-red peignoir 
 embroidered with white, and the wearer, lissome and 
 laughing, standing over the young minister, one hand 
 on his curly head. A flash of associative ideas con- 
 jured up the Woman " arrayed in purple and scarlet, 
 and decked with gold and precious stones and 
 pearls," at sight of whom the Seer of Patmos 
 " wondered with great admiration." 
 
 C. Mather Welsh had never before entered the 
 Bowersox house. The exterior was respectable 
 enough. He had doubts of his own, therefore well 
 grounded, as to the propriety of professing Chris- 
 tians living in a square two-storied brick mansion, 
 with a cupola on the roof, when thousands of the
 
 68 Dr. Dale 
 
 Lord's poor had but one garret-room apiece. But 
 he was not the keeper of his neighbour's conscience 
 in every instance, and he knew Mrs. Bowersox to 
 be one whom, as Bunyan said of Mercy and Chris- 
 tiana, " the backs and the bellies of the poor blessed." 
 These things might be counted to her as righteous- 
 ness. With the Almighty all things were possible. 
 
 The cream of Christian charity curdled within 
 him, as new milk in a thunder-shower or under 
 the dropping of noxious dews, at the conviction 
 which smote him that he had penetrated to a den 
 of gilded infamy. 
 
 He had striven hard and prayerfully, with strong 
 crying and tears, for there was something wondrously 
 winning about the boy to believe, against reason 
 and conscience, that John Bell might be unsound on 
 the temperance question, yet be one of those to be 
 saved so as by fire, when the wood of heterodoxy, the 
 hay of levity, the stubble of worldly conformity, 
 should be burned away. Now he groaned in spirit. 
 
 The room into which he had been hurriedly thrust 
 that was his way of putting it was fitted up 
 neatly with the solid, substantial furniture of a former 
 generation. Two sides were lined with books ; the 
 immense desk, of modern make, had a rolling-top. 
 This was open and showed a multiplicity of pigeon- 
 holes, bursting with papers, a double row of drawers. 
 Upon the top was an easel, upon the easel a framed 
 picture of a woman. He moved nearer to inspect it. 
 Again a red gown ! In his ignorance, he called it 
 " scarlet " also. Above the velvet and the lace and 
 the flaunting flower, the face of Delilah ! No second 
 look was needed to convince a man who knew the 
 depravity of the carnal mind, of the dawning truth. 
 
 His lips moved. If he had been a Roman Catholic, 
 he would have crossed himself. From the force of 
 habit the whisper was from Holy Writ,
 
 Rev. C. Mather Welsh 69 
 
 " Her lips drop as a honey-comb, and her mouth is 
 smoother than oil. Her feet go down to death : her 
 steps take hold on death" 
 
 He did not offer to stir at the click of the bolt in 
 the door. His face was as grim as iron. 
 
 " You are looking at my sister's picture," said 
 Bell's heartsome tones. " She arrived last night on a 
 visit to me. I hope to keep her for a long time. Sit 
 down ! " wheeling an arm-chair to the front of the 
 fire. " You will excuse me for keeping you waiting," 
 with his happy laugh. " To be frank, I had to 
 unstrap and unlock a couple of trunks for her. It's 
 nice to be able to wait upon her again. We have 
 been separated for almost four years. The cold 
 weather holds on hard, doesn't it? Lay off your 
 overcoat, or you won't feel it when you go out. Let 
 me help you ! " 
 
 Without waiting for permission, he laid hold of a 
 cuff with one hand, the collar with the other, and 
 stripped the shabby outer garment from the spare 
 frame as he would peel a banana. Feeling how light 
 it was because threadbare, he laid it respectfully over 
 a chair-back. 
 
 Ousted abruptly from the role of accusing angel, 
 Welsh looked his discomfiture so unequivocally that 
 Bell led on in the talk upon general subjects to give 
 him time to regain his mental equilibrium. 
 
 " I do not recollect another winter as severe since 
 1 came to Western Pennsylvania. We manage to 
 keep comfortable here. The walls are very thick, 
 having been built when labour was cheap and bricks 
 abundant." 
 
 Receiving no reply, he changed his tack. 
 
 " You had a trying experience last night, Dr. Dale 
 tells me. I suppose it is with you as it is with me. 
 We never get used to seeing illness and death." 
 
 " I am here to speak of last night's affair," said
 
 jo Dr. Dale 
 
 Welsh in a rasping falsetto, the intonations hard and 
 dry. 
 
 He stared straight forward, past his companion's 
 head, through the window at the inclement blue of 
 the wintry sky. 
 
 " I had expected naturally, it seems to me that 
 the funeral exercises would devolve upon me. The 
 comrades I cannot call them his 'friends' of 
 the deceased have taken charge of the matter. 
 Miss Folger wrote to me, in answer to a note I left at 
 her door at sunrise this morning, that she would 
 defray the expenses of the burial. She says, and 
 with truth, that this is only just, seeing the man was 
 once in the employ of the Folger Oil Company. He 
 had worked nowhere for two months. He had degen- 
 erated into a hopeless loafer and sot. I found these, 
 his companions in vice, in possession upon my return 
 to the low boarding-house in which he died. When 
 I gave them Miss Folger's message, informing them, 
 moreover, that, according to her custom in such 
 cases, she would send one of her carriages to convey 
 the pall-bearers and officiating minister to the grave, 
 I was told that I would not be allowed to take the 
 service unless I would pledge myself not to say a 
 word derogatory to the deceased. ' Nothing ag'in 
 him,' were the precise words used." 
 
 He stopped to wet his lips with his tongue. His 
 eyes were withdrawn, it seemed painfully, from the 
 cold fierceness of the sky and fastened upon a spot 
 on the papered wall back of John, who was listening 
 with an expression of sincere sympathy and grave 
 concern. The paper had a blue ground. A curly- 
 cue pattern of a darker shade tied itself up in hope- 
 less knots three times in each breadth. John won- 
 dered if the ferrety eyes, red in the rims and fringed 
 by scanty lashes, that blinked violently at most un- 
 expected intervals, were trying to undo the snarls.
 
 Rev. C. Mather Welsh 71 
 
 He had nearly assured him that it would be of no use, 
 when the tense falsetto began again : 
 
 " Of course, with my principles, I could promise 
 nothing of the kind. I hold being an ambassador 
 in bonds, not of my making, but my Master's that 
 it is my bounden duty to improve occasions like the 
 present, to the good of the living. If the lost wretch 
 who passed into Eternity last night could speak to 
 me, I believe it would be in some such words as 
 Dives addressed to Abraham, ' Testify unto them 
 lest they also come into this place of torment' 
 
 " I said this and much more to these men of 
 Belial. I told them I had in mind, as a suitable text 
 for the funeral sermon, ' He that being often re- 
 proved and hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be 
 destroyed and that without remedy' I said : ' While 
 this man lived I laboured and prayed with and for 
 him. I sat beside him for two days and a night, 
 wrestling for his soul and ministering to his bodily 
 needs, when you were drowning thought in liquid 
 damnation. My work for him is done. My business 
 is now with those who are left in the land of the liv- 
 ing. Whether men will heed or whether they will 
 forbear, I must deliver my message. I have to an- 
 swer at the Last Day at the bar of Him from whom I 
 received my commission, for the manner in which my 
 duty is done. 
 
 " This sounds like empty talk to you, Mr. Bell ! " 
 shifting his gaze swiftly to John's compassionate 
 face. 
 
 " Anything but that, Mr. Welsh ! " the sonorous 
 voice full, round, and sweet after the wiry vibrations 
 of the long monologue. " I respect you and your 
 motives too truly to feel otherwise than grieved by 
 what you have told me. If there is anything I can 
 do" 
 
 " You are to do everything ! " The small blue
 
 72 Dr. Dale 
 
 eyes blinked rapidly and long at the stuffed white 
 owl on the mantel, a present to " the Dominie " from 
 an admiring parishioner. " The ringleader of the 
 party who waited upon me broke off the conference 
 with an oath a blasphemous oath, sir ! to the face 
 of a minister of the Gospel ! and declared they 
 would not fool any longer with a ' brimstone fireman. 
 Dominie' Bell was too square a man to kick a fellow 
 when he was down. You would n't catch him spitting 
 in a dead man's face ! ' ' 
 
 He said it with a certain gusto in rehearsing the 
 exact phrases that was alike unaccountable and 
 revolting to the hearer. It may have been part and 
 parcel of the haircloth shirt he had elected to wear. 
 Or was there salve for wounded self-love in the 
 reflection that here was persecution for righteous- 
 ness' sake? 
 
 " Horrible ! " ejaculated Bell, in strong indignation. 
 " The fellow was probably drunk. All the same the 
 insult was abominable. He shall apologise to you " 
 
 The gesture with which the little minister checked 
 him was almost majestic. 
 
 " By no manner of means, Mr. Bell ! Do you 
 imagine that such an one as he can wound me, much 
 less the Cause I represent? But to our business! 
 The spokesman went on to say that ' if Dominie Bell 
 did n't give Svensen a through ticket, all right, he'd 
 hold his tongue about him, seeing Svensen was n't 
 in a condition to answer back. He 'd just put the 
 poor fellow away decent and in order, and no ques- 
 tions asked.' I said that he might be right, for all 
 I knew. He probably knew the Rev. Mr. Bell better 
 than I did." 
 
 John turned upon him, his lips parted for a retort. 
 The white light from the window brought out ridges 
 and creases in the speaker's face the observer had 
 never seen there before. The lean hands that chafed
 
 Rev. C. Mather tf^elsb 73 
 
 one another nervously were rough and blue ; the 
 shrunken veins crawled feebly over bones and 
 tendons ; the prominent ears were bloodless ; the 
 features were pinched. The aspect of the man was 
 that of one not merely chilled to the bone, but 
 starved. He reminded Bell of a hungry tramp dog 
 shivering at a bleak street corner. 
 
 " I must beg you to excuse me again for a moment," 
 said John, courteously and very kindly. " There is a 
 little matter I have to speak to my sister about, while 
 I think of it. Then we will talk further of our 
 business." 
 
 When he had gone, Welsh let go of himself and 
 leaned back in the warmed recess of the cushioned 
 chair. It was roomy and comfortable. The elastic 
 fluffiness fitted gratefully into tired angles and braced 
 the aching muscles. The racking vigil of the last 
 night, fasting, and mental stress combined with the 
 sense of humiliating failure to overcome his physical 
 forces. For the next few minutes he might be off 
 guard. 
 
 When Bell returned, the snap of the bolt into the 
 socket and jar of the closing door did not arouse his 
 visitor. Doubled together in a loose bunch of 
 shabby clothes, huddled limbs, and hanging head, the 
 doughty warrior for the right slumbered in the shine 
 of the anthracite fire, cradled peacefully in the big 
 arm-chair. 
 
 John drew down the window-shades noiselessly, 
 and seated himself. It seemed a sin to be well and 
 vigorous, well-fed, well-lodged, so content with his 
 world, so happy in his work as he was, while he 
 looked at that pitiful shape. 
 
 Welsh's shoes were patched, worn down at the 
 heel, rubbed and rusty on the sides ; the cuffs of 
 the gray flannel shirt were soiled and frayed; the 
 wrinkles on the back of the neck exposed by the
 
 74 Dr. Dale 
 
 drooping head were laid out in a diagonal criss- 
 cross pattern, deep and regular; the nails of the 
 chapped hands were broken and dirty; the chin 
 bristled with a two days' beard, sandy and gray. The 
 strait-breasted black coat and vest, worn as a duty to 
 his sacred calling, were whitened at the seams and 
 napless all over. Two buttons were gone from the 
 vest; the pantaloons bagged at the knees, and the 
 bags were worn thin. 
 
 " What right have I to be warmed and clothed," 
 mused honest John, " to wear clean linen, to take 
 time to bathe, to eat, and to sleep, while he lives in 
 a wretched shanty with just enough creature-com- 
 forts to hold body and soul together? Are we not 
 soldiers in one and the same army? " 
 
 He took up a book, not to read, but in case 
 Welsh should awake unexpectedly and catch him 
 staring at him, if he had no other occupation for his 
 eyes. The book chanced to be Thomas a Kempis's 
 Imitation of Christ. The title kept John's thoughts 
 in the channel dug for them by the missionary's visit 
 and story. There were many pleasanter themes 
 he might have chosen for that half-hour's medi- 
 tations. 
 
 It was a very sober face which Welsh saw, as it 
 were in a dream, for an instant, upon awaking with 
 a guilty start from his nap. 
 
 When he would have struggled to his feet, a 
 stammer of apology upon his tongue, John stayed 
 him peremptorily. 
 
 " I am ever so much obliged to you for the com- 
 pliment you have paid to my Sleepy Hollow chair," 
 he said lightly. " I invariably fall asleep in it, and 
 even Dale, who suffers from insomnia, can never 
 resist it. Now," as the door was unclosed from 
 without, " I am going to ask you to join me in the 
 twelve o'clock luncheon my good housemother
 
 Rev. C. Mather Welsh 75 
 
 always sends in to me when she knows I shall not be 
 in to dinner." 
 
 Gretchen set a great tray upon a table Bell rolled 
 away from the wall and nearer to the fire. The 
 aromatic breath of steaming coffee greeted Welsh's 
 nostrils, and, as the maid removed a shining cover 
 from a steak, juicy, brown, and smoking hot, the 
 water gathering in his mouth smothered his attempted 
 refusal. 
 
 It was like a continued dream to find himself seated 
 opposite the man he disapproved of with all his might, 
 and sharing in the goods provided for that man's 
 fleshly enjoyment. 
 
 Bell was not hungry, but pretended to be to make 
 the half-famished man tolerant of the hunger he tried 
 to hide. The host did all the talking, seasoning his 
 cheerful chat with second helps of coffee, steak, and 
 hot biscuits. 
 
 " Nobody else makes such bread and biscuits as 
 Mrs. Bowersox," he ran on. " She will be pleased 
 to know that you like these. I never stop short of 
 three. As for Jeff, do you know that jolly little 
 kid ? I am afraid to say how many he can stand up 
 to, when he is put upon his mettle. I was a stranger 
 when I came to what is now Pitvale. The dear 
 lady took me in, after her own generous fashion, and 
 has been like a mother to me ever since. She knows 
 that when I say at breakfast, ' Don't wait dinner for 
 me,' I mean all-day business. She may not see me 
 again until night. For fear I should faint and fall by 
 the way she fills me up with such provender as this. 
 I may not really need it. I eat as much as I can to 
 spare her feelings." 
 
 " I am quite ashamed of myself for being so 
 greedy," Welsh found words to say, as he pushed his 
 chair away from the table, and John rang for Gretchen 
 to remove the tray. " But I forgot to eat my break-
 
 76 Dr. Dale 
 
 fast. Having so much on my mind, you know. I 
 had no idea how hungry I was until I smelled the 
 coffee. I am very dependent upon my coffee." 
 
 Inwardly he was quaking with dread lest Bell 
 should offer him a cigar, in which case he would 
 be compelled to testify against the filthy vice. And 
 testimony would not be smooth sailing, even with 
 C. Mather, when his stomach was so nobly replen- 
 ished by the hospitality of the offender. 
 
 Some good people are never satisfied with the de- 
 gree of sensitiveness their consciences are naturally 
 endowed with, and what they have gained through 
 the ordinary processes of gracious cultivation. They 
 keep up a constant attrition of the surface by self- 
 examination and all manner of uncharitableness with 
 their own deeds, words, and thoughts. 
 
 Welsh may be said to have sand-papered his con- 
 science to a tenderness that made a touch agony, 
 that shrank and quivered at a breath. Already he 
 felt the smart consequent upon the weak yielding to 
 carnal appetite. This plausible heretic had taken 
 advantage of his forlorn state and laid him under 
 obligation to deal gently with his faults. The watch- 
 man had, literally and figuratively, slept upon his 
 post. 
 
 He girded up the loins of his spirit for the assault 
 that was to reinstate him in his self-respect. He 
 had no hope of making his opponent yield one 
 inch. 
 
 " You are not smoking, Brother Bell. I supposed 
 that you could not enjoy eating without it." 
 
 " On the contrary, I do not smoke, sometimes, for 
 days together, never when I am likely to go into a 
 sick-room. Sometimes, when my mind is full of 
 other things, I forget my cigar." 
 
 " Forget it ! Can your right hand forget its 
 cunning? "
 
 Rev. C. Mather tf^elsb 77 
 
 " Such things have been," rejoined Bell, smiling. 
 " But about this sad affair, the business to which I 
 owe the pleasure of your visit. Before dismissing 
 what is a painful subject to us both, let me say that I 
 will go directly to the house in which Svensen died, 
 and see those men. They are a rough set, and, as 
 you say, hardly responsible for what they did this 
 morning." 
 
 " I said nothing of the kind ! " The sparse sandy 
 locks fairly bristled in the heat of the denial. 
 " Every man is responsible at all times for the deeds 
 done in the body. If he wilfully deprive himself 
 for the time being of his sober senses, his sin is the 
 greater, not less. The law of man does not excuse 
 homicide when committed by a drunken person. 
 The law of God bars the drunkard out of heaven. I 
 am not your equal in education, Brother Bell, nor in 
 worldly wealth and social consequence. I am your 
 senior in years, and I warn you where the responsi- 
 bility rests for much of the debauchery that makes 
 this place like unto the mouth of hell. It rests upon 
 you and your godless, mocking coadjutor, Dr. Dale. 
 I could wish from my soul God knows I lie not in 
 saying it ! that I could lay most of the blame upon 
 him. He is, if I am rightly informed, not a believer. 
 Is this so?" 
 
 The answer was prompt and temperate. 
 
 " I must ask that, in Dr. Dale's absence, you con- 
 fine yourself to the strictures conscience constrains 
 you to pass upon my conduct, and, so far as you can 
 appreciate them, upon my motives. When you have 
 finished, I shall ask further that you listen to my de- 
 fence as patiently as I have heard your attack." 
 
 " Have you never asked your conscience, in con- 
 nection with the joint work of yourself and Dr. Dale, 
 ' What concord hath Christ with Belial ? ' " interro- 
 gated Welsh.
 
 78 Dr. Dale 
 
 Bell's mustache quivered above a passing smile ; 
 then he spoke seriously, 
 
 " It is safe to say that the text has never occurred 
 to me in this connection. And you will excuse me 
 for adding, that there is, to my mind, a savour of ir- 
 reverence in the profuse application of Scripture to 
 whatever jumps with our individual views and 
 moods." 
 
 Welsh passed by the hint in word. That he was 
 touched in a sore place was apparent in the increase 
 of heat in his rejoinder, 
 
 " Nor, when the hell-defying crew who frequent 
 The Bachelors' Club six nights in the week fill the 
 galleries of your church on Sunday, bring their 
 babies to be sprinkled by your hands, and on Sunday 
 evenings crowd your music-hall, your theatre, your 
 dance-house, or whatever you please to call it, to be 
 led in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs oh, the 
 blasphemy of it all ! by the band of this unbeliever's 
 organising, and, if I am rightly informed, with him at 
 the organ ! 
 
 " Don't interrupt me, Brother Bell ! The blood 
 of Svensen, the blood of other souls, cries unto 
 Heaven for vengeance. ' God is not mocked ! What- 
 soever a man soweth that shall he also reap.' You 
 are sowing unto the flesh. You shall reap as you 
 have sowed, you shall gather as you have strewed. 
 Listen to me ! " 
 
 He was on his feet, pacing the floor with uneven 
 strides, sawing the air with both hands while he ha- 
 rangued, stopping at the most strenuous passages to 
 shake a clenched fist in John Bell's face. 
 
 " I met you one night ten days ago, in front of The 
 Oilman's Rest. I had written the word ' Curse ' in 
 place of ' Rest ' upon the window. I was led to the 
 act, I verily believe, my spirit being moved by holy 
 indignation. You may recollect the talk we had.
 
 Rev. C. Mather Welsh 79 
 
 When I parted with you, I turned back to the place 
 where we had seen the men fighting, for I bethought 
 me of the priest and the Levite. I found Svensen 
 weltering in his blood. He died last night. What 
 have you to say as to your complicity in his 
 murder?" 
 
 John Bell, too, had risen as the arraignment went 
 on. Resting one arm on the mantel, he eyed the 
 excited speaker with calm intentness. At the last 
 sentence he took a step forward, and raised his 
 hand imperatively, the gesture, although this Welsh 
 did not know, which had ere this, once and again, 
 quelled insubordination and compelled respect from a 
 drunken mob. 
 
 " I am glad to have the chance to say what I have 
 tried several times to state to you dispassionately, 
 Mr. Welsh. 
 
 " The average operative," speaking deliberately 
 and with dignity, " be he mill-hand, oilman, miner, 
 mechanic, or day-labourer, will have either a tonic or 
 a stimulant to brace him for his work, or to invigor- 
 ate him when he is tired by work. If I had the mak- 
 ing of the operative from the beginning and of his 
 forebears, he should be a water-drinker. He comes 
 to me ready-made. His appetites, his will, and, God 
 help him ! his temptations, are full-grown. Most of 
 our men are Dutch and Germans. In their own 
 country beer and tobacco are to them what tea and 
 coffee are to us, simple necessaries of daily living. 
 If I were to tell them that to drink beer is a sin and 
 to smoke a vice, they would set me down as a fanatic 
 or a fool. Their Christian forefathers drank beer, 
 smoked tobacco, lived honestly and temperately, and 
 went to heaven, they would say. I cannot deny it. I 
 should stultify myself if I were to attempt to argue 
 the matter with them. Here lies the case : since I 
 have not virgin ore to work upon, I must suit my
 
 8o Dr. Dale 
 
 methods to such material as I have. As a result, I 
 win them to sobriety and to decency. They come 
 willingly to religious services, the more interesting to 
 them because they have a part in them. When I 
 visit the married men in their homes, they listen 
 attentively to my teachings. They send their chil- 
 dren to our week-day and Sunday schools. 
 
 "As I said to you the other night, I should not 
 hesitate to take you, at any time and unannounced, 
 into any part of our Club-House. My boys would 
 justify my faith in them. 
 
 " I have taken up my work after much thought 
 and prayer. I ask the blessing of God upon it con- 
 tinually. He knows how well I mean, how earnestly 
 I long to be a tool in His hands, if by any means 
 I may save some. As you must know, it is not all 
 plain sailing. My discouragements are many and 
 trying. If I had less faith in the honesty of my 
 purpose, if I were less certain that I am doing God's 
 work and in the way that seems to me right, I 
 should lay it down to-morrow. If I meet my opera- 
 tive with a doubled fist, I antagonise him. When he 
 has laid his hand in mine, I may draw him. Not 
 invariably, but oftener than if I began my mission by 
 knocking him down. 
 
 " I have nothing more to say to you now or 
 ever again in vindication of my boys or my motives 
 and methods. Dr. Dale is able to take care of 
 himself." 
 
 C. Mather Welsh had snatched up his broad- 
 brimmed hat, and was twisting it round and round 
 upon his threadbare sleeve. He trembled from head 
 to foot as with cold ; his eyes were bloodshot ; he 
 brought out his words with queer corresponding 
 movements of the head, as if they hurt the back of 
 his throat in passing. 
 
 " And / have had my last say, Mr. Bell ! You are
 
 Rev. C. Mather fiPelsb 81 
 
 young, hasty, headstrong, wise in your own conceit. 
 You have been inoculated with the virus of worldly 
 conformity, of temporising with sin. You are 
 fighting hellfire with a jug of cream. I had dared 
 to hope that you might be led to see the evil of 
 your ways; that, under your apparent worldliness 
 and levity, there might be some seeds of saving 
 grace. I was mistaken. Because I have eaten of 
 your food and drunk of your cup is no reason why 
 I should use smooth words with you. I wash my 
 hands of you and yours. ' Ephraim is joined to his 
 idols. Let him alone ! ' 
 
 " You may still recollect enough of your mother's 
 Bible, as she read it before the day of higher criti- 
 cism and beer-soaked Christianity, to know what 
 must be the doom of ' idolaters and sorcerers and 
 whoremongers and murderers, and whosoever loveth 
 and maketh a lie ! " 
 
 "And then," finished John, in telling the story 
 to his sister, " he jerked out of my hands the over- 
 coat I would have helped him put on, and, like 
 Naaman the Syrian, he went away in a rage. There 
 were tears in his eyes, for all that. He hates me 
 and abjures my works, but he is a good man."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 "OUR LADY OF PEACE" 
 
 " She doeth little kindnesses 
 Which most leave undone or despise, 
 For naught that sets one heart at ease, 
 And giveth happiness or peace, 
 Is low-esteemed in her eyes." 
 
 " ""W'ANUARY roses and spruce footman hardly 
 I prepared me for this ! " Myrtle Bell breathed 
 I to her brother as they crossed the tiled floor 
 I of the Folger mansion. 
 
 The house was of solid gray stone, colonial 
 in style, with a wing on each side of the main build- 
 ing, and a columned veranda crossing the front. 
 ] The grounds were spacious and laid out tastefully. 
 jWith rare good sense the owners had resisted the 
 / arguments of the Philadelphia landscape-gardener 
 \ who would have felled a dozen trees of native growth 
 that interfered with his design. A giant walnut was 
 on one side of the entrance; a spreading oak upon 
 the other. Thrifty arbor-vitae hedged the avenue 
 winding to the massive iron gates. Glass-houses 
 were partially screened by clumps of spruce and 
 pine. 
 
 Within-doors the air was as balmy as June. Ori- 
 ental rugs were scattered over the tiles; divans 
 of satin and damask, heaped with cushions, were 
 against the walls ; easy-chairs of divers patterns 
 stood invitingly about the hall ; vases of cut flowers 
 and plants in pots were upon tables and mantel; 
 a fire of logs burned behind brass fender and antique 
 fire-dogs.
 
 "Our Lady of Peace" 83 
 
 Myrtle had time for a hasty glance at fine engrav- 
 ings and etchings hung in good lights, and to see that 
 folding-doors connected the hall with drawing-rooms 
 and library, before the stately footman who preceded 
 them with measured, soundless tread, unclosed a 
 door at the back of the hall, and bowed them into the 
 presence of his mistress. 
 
 Miss Bell's unspoken exclamation was that neither 
 affluence of rose-bloom nor the tales she had heard 
 of the heiress's generosity could have conjured up 
 the apparition that now met her sight. 
 
 The walls of the large room were pearl-gray; 
 upon the blended gray-and-white shades of the velvet 
 carpet were cast white fur rugs; chairs, sofas, -and 
 ottomans were covered with white-and-silver stuffs 
 combined with softest gray and pearly tints ; white 
 tiles framed the fireplace and formed the hearth; 
 curtains of white silk and lace tempered the glare of 
 the snowy lawn lying under four long windows. 
 
 All the colour in the wonderful spaciousness came 
 from the leaping fire in the wide chimney, and the 
 face of her whose lounging-chair was in full view' 
 of the door and the coming guests. 
 
 This face it was which, catching Myrtle's eye, left 
 her no thought for anything else. But for the fine 
 chiselling of the features which does not go with 
 extreme youth, she might have been not a day over 
 sixteen. She was, really, twenty-six. Her hair was of 
 that uncommon and least describable colour known 
 to the French as blond cendree. Although perfectly 
 straight, it lay in fluffy masses about her head and 
 rolled back loosely from a face as pale as wax, yet 
 not sickly. Out of the clear fairness looked dark- 
 gray eyes so intensely alive that Myrtle was fairly 
 startled by their full gaze. 
 
 The smile with which she held out both hands to 
 her visitor was glad and sweet,
 
 8 4 Dr. Dale 
 
 " I am very, very happy to see you ! It is good in 
 you to come to me on your first day in your new 
 home," she said, brightly. 
 
 Moved by irresistible emotion, Myrtle stooped 
 and kissed her forehead mutely, then, still holding 
 her hand, sank into the low chair set ready for her 
 beside the chaise longue, and gazed at her for a half- 
 minute before she got senses and words in order. 
 
 " Oh-h-h ! " she sighed then, just as she had over 
 the wealth of roses that morning. " I never thought 
 you were like this ! " 
 
 The words may not have been flattering. Tone 
 and look were unequivocal. Ruth laughed, a low 
 ripple of pleasure that told her appreciation of the 
 tribute. John took hold of his sister's shoulders. 
 
 " Steady, little woman ! Be explicit ! ' Like ' 
 what?" 
 
 " Like an annunciation lily, when I expected to see 
 a wind-flower. The livest creature I ever saw, when 
 I was full of sympathy for an invalid ! " 
 
 The soft ripple answered her again, 
 
 " I do not call myself an invalid any longer. I am 
 never ill, seldom ailing, except when I think I 
 ought to humour Kate. Miss Bell ! let me introduce 
 my friend, Miss Meagley." 
 
 The companion advanced from the background, 
 where, in the shadow of a screen, she had escaped 
 the stranger's notice. John had seen and bowed to 
 her while his sister was absorbed in contemplation of 
 Miss Folger. 
 
 Myrtle arose with a graceful apology for the over- 
 sight, and the two shook hands. 
 
 By a mutual and, to one of them, an inexplicable 
 impulse, each met the other's eyes straight and 
 searchingly. 
 
 " I know I shall hate her ! " was Kate's mental 
 conviction.
 
 "Our Lady of Peace" 85 
 
 Myrtle said inly ; " Here is a false note in the 
 symphony of Our Lady of Peace ! " 
 
 Her eyes returned gratefully to Ruth, as to a pic- 
 ture that would certainly reward the student. 
 
 The heiress's white gown was of fine woolen stuff, 
 sweeping over her feet in large, easy folds. It was 
 trimmed around the bottom of the skirt, at the wrists, 
 and at the throat with swan's down, her beautifully 
 moulded neck rising from the fleecy bands like the 
 white stem upholding a lily-cup. 
 
 John had not sat down. 
 
 " Will you let me leave my sister with you for an 
 hour? " he was saying to Ruth. " I am particularly 
 busy to-day, and cannot indulge myself by staying. 
 I will call for her about sunset." 
 
 A shadow deepened the eyes uplifted to him as he 
 towered above her. 
 
 " Ah ! " with instant comprehension of the nature 
 of some of his engagements. " I heard of that poor 
 Swede's death, and supposed you might be sent for, 
 or that you would be likely to go, in any case. I 
 had a note from Mr. Welsh this morning, and an- 
 swered it. As he said, the man had a claim upon us. 
 You will let me know if I can be of any use? There 
 is no wife or child, I believe? " 
 
 " None. He had no relatives in America." 
 
 " That is good ! I hope he has neither mother 
 nor sister at home ! " wistful tenderness in voice and 
 look. " I shall be more than happy to have Miss Bell 
 stay with me for as many hours as you can spare her, 
 as long as she can content herself in our quiet nook." 
 
 "'Content' is not a word to be used here and 
 now," said Myrtle, nestling into her chair with the air 
 of one who has an assured pleasure in anticipation. 
 " I enter now, if never before, into the heart of the 
 meaning of Tennyson's 
 
 ' There is no joy but calm.'
 
 86 Dr. Dale 
 
 I read in an old book popular in my mother's 
 girlhood one of Miss Bremer's novels, The Neigh- 
 bours of a room in a homestead known as ' The 
 Innermost.' It was occupied by a real, not a 
 nominal invalid," smiling at her hostess, " and all 
 family perplexities and joys and sorrows were brought 
 to her to be set right or sympathised with. It was a 
 study of perspective, you see. Being out of the rush- 
 ing world, she could judge of rights and wrongs better 
 than those who were in it. I am sure this is The 
 Innermost of this house. It is like Percival's ' coral- 
 grove.' You recollect that 
 
 'The winds and waves are absent there.' 
 
 And the coral is all white." 
 
 The speaking eyes were flooded with serene 
 light. 
 
 " When I was a real invalid," with an arch gleam 
 shot at Miss Meagley, "a confusion of colours was 
 torture to eyes and nerves. White and gray quieted 
 me. That was the way I fell into the fancy of hav- 
 ing nothing else about me. Then I got ' set in my 
 notions,' like other spinsters " 
 
 Myrtle interposed with merry petulance. 
 
 " That was another reason for my ridiculous be- 
 haviour when I first saw you. I had got into my 
 stupid head the idea that you were an elderly lady 
 as estimable as elderly nice and good, oh, so good ! 
 a cappy and a happy Lady Bountiful of uncertain 
 age and certain virtues. As Jeemes Yellow-plush 
 says, ' Phansy my pheelinx ' when I saw you as 
 you are ! Do you wonder the crash of my ideal 
 about my ears took away my wits and manners for 
 an instant? " 
 
 " From whom could you have got such an extraor- 
 dinary impression?" 
 
 Beyond the prim pronunciation of Miss Bell's
 
 "Our Lady of Peace" 87 
 
 name as she was introduced to her, Miss Meagley had 
 not spoken since the visitor's entrance until now. 
 
 She sat by a window, quite withdrawn from the 
 immediate vicinity of the others, her hands busied in 
 pulling threads out of a square of linen preparatory 
 to a bit of elaborate "drawn work," her eyes ap- 
 parently intent upon it. Myrtle was, nevertheless, 
 positive, when her smooth accents slid into the con- 
 versation, that she had not lost a word or glance that 
 had passed. 
 
 The rejoinder was studiously careless and lightly 
 uttered. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. It 'just growed,' I think, from 
 such beginnings as sundry allusions to Miss Folger's 
 many charitable deeds, and the respect with which 
 she is always named. My volatile fancy is account- 
 able for the rest. I may be grateful to it, too, for an 
 enchanting surprise." 
 
 " I thought it strange " as creamily as before 
 " that Mr. Bell should convey such an impression. 
 He never flatters, as everybody knows. But the 
 image of a starched old maid in cap and spectacles 
 is a little too preposterous ! " 
 
 This with a laugh that sugared the cream. 
 
 Generous heat crept up to Myrtle's cheeks. She 
 fitted a curb upon the check-rein of civil discretion. 
 
 " My brother would be the first person to see the 
 absurdity if he were to hear it. Especially as the 
 little he said of Miss Folger's personelle ought to 
 have led me to the opposite conclusion. He told me 
 she was the happiest person he had ever seen. 
 Then, too, I was so much surprised to learn that Mr. 
 Ralph Folger is her brother that I took too many 
 other things for granted." 
 
 Against will and judgment she was nettled into 
 prolonging the explanation by the slow smile enlarg- 
 ing the " baby-stare " and lifting the short upper lip.
 
 88 Dr. Dale 
 
 Miss Meagley was looking directly at her, and ex- 
 pectantly, from a safe position slightly out of the 
 range of Ruth's observation. 
 
 Myrtle addressed herself pointedly to her hostess. 
 
 " I met Mr. Ralph Folger in Venice last winter, and 
 again at Rome in Holy Week." 
 
 Ruth's eyes lighted up gloriously. 
 
 " Is it possible? And he never spoke of it in any 
 of his letters ! He is a notoriously unsatisfactory 
 correspondent at all times. When he is abroad his 
 epistles are usually in the form of cable-despatches. 
 'I am well! How are you? Answer,' is the sum 
 and substance of most of them. Yet it is odd he 
 did not tell me he had met you, if only because of 
 his friendship with Mr. Bell," she subjoined with 
 instinctive delicacy. 
 
 Myrtle was quick to answer and avoid the chance 
 of embarrassment. The sister must not imagine, her 
 companion must not believe, that she was irked at 
 the brother's indifference to herself. 
 
 " Our talk did not run much upon personalities. 
 I was travelling with a party, and v/e had few oppor- 
 tunities of speaking of anything except sight-seeing 
 and incidents of travel. I did not even know that he 
 was from Pitvale. He did not suspect that John is 
 my brother. You know how much there is abroad 
 to keep eyes and tongues busy." 
 
 " Miss Folger has never been abroad," remarked 
 the Middle Miss Meagley, with a return to the for- 
 mality that had stiffened her reception of the 
 stranger. 
 
 In saying it she leaned further back, and pointed 
 an admonitory finger at the swathed feet supported 
 by the foot-rest of the lounging-chair. Her arched 
 eyebrows emphasised the caution. Both convicted 
 the unwary speaker of treading tactlessly upon 
 delicate ground.
 
 " Our Lady of Peace" 89 
 
 Myrtle bit her lip in vexation manifest to the cool 
 green eyes and a satisfaction to the soul behind them. 
 Here were sensitive nerves and a thin moral cuticle. 
 
 Kate Meagley had never read Edmond About's Le 
 Roi des Montagues, but she understood as well as the 
 old bandit chief what torture could be inflicted by 
 plucking out one hair at a time. 
 
 Ruth, unobservant of the by-play, was musing 
 happily, her hands, perfect in contour and white as 
 magnolia petals, laid together upon the Canton crepe 
 shawl thrown over her lap and lower limbs ; her eyes 
 were deep and dreamful. 
 
 " He is the most unexpected of human creatures," 
 she said, smilingly. " I can never guess within a 
 thousand miles of his whereabouts. When I fancy 
 him cooling his hot head (he says his hair keeps up 
 the supply of caloric), cooling his head in Norway, 
 he is as likely as not to be crossing the line on the 
 way to Cape Town. His rooms are always ready for 
 him. Sometimes he makes me supremely happy by 
 occupying them for a month; oftener he alights, 
 like a humming-bird, for a sip of home-made honey, 
 and is off again before I am really sure I have seen 
 him. But," tenderly, " he is a dear brother always. 
 His goodness to me is past finding out. There is no 
 uncertainty there." 
 
 " A good brother, like yours and mine, is one of 
 Heaven's perfect gifts," said Myrtle, again at her 
 ease. " In the course of our short acquaintance, I 
 had several proofs of Mr. Folger's kindness of heart. 
 By the way, we miscalled him ' Foalger ' over there. 
 That was one reason I did n't find out sooner who he 
 was. He spoiled beggars and flower-sellers by scat- 
 tering lire instead of soldi among them. I am afraid 
 the next party of tourists paid the penalty of his 
 liberality." 
 
 " You have seen comparatively little of your brother
 
 90 Dr. Dale 
 
 since you were a child, I believe, Miss Bell," observed 
 Miss Meagley, in a resolved-to-make-conversation 
 tone. " It must be like getting acquainted over 
 again, now that you are living together at last." 
 
 The tweak was futile. Myrtle's light laugh was 
 joyous and confident. 
 
 " Oh, no ! Jack and I have kept in touch. He is 
 very fortunate in having so pleasant a home," ad- 
 dressing herself again to Ruth, and so decidedly as 
 to present the coldest of cold shoulders to the third 
 person present. " Which reminds me that Mrs. 
 Bowersox desired to be respectfully remembered to 
 you." 
 
 " Thank you ! and her ! I have the sincerest regard 
 for Mrs. Bowersox. And my little favourite, Jeff! 
 What is his latest escapade?" 
 
 " He is watching the going off of an old nail, and 
 the coming on of a new, upon the thumb he ham- 
 mered out of shape last week. He explained the 
 process to me in full to-day. If there is enough of 
 him left to take an education, he will be the great 
 surgeon of his day when he grows up. I never saw 
 another child who had such an intimate acquaintance- 
 ship with his own anatomy." 
 
 "The dear little monkey! I wish you had brought 
 him with you. With all his pranks he is sweet and 
 affectionate, and a little gentleman at heart." 
 
 " He charged me with a message to you, " Myrtle 
 now recalled. " He ' would have come to call, but 
 he was afraid Beautiful might be lonesome if he left 
 him before he was used to home-folks.' Beautiful 
 is an Irish setter Dr. Dale brought home this morn- 
 ing, a legacy from the poor Swede who died last 
 night." 
 
 " Beautiful ! what a silly name ! " The interjection 
 was, of course, Miss Meagley's. " And for a Swedish 
 dog ! Of course Dr. Dale will change it."
 
 " Our Lady of P eace" 91 
 
 Something in Myrtle's face, perhaps a slight rise 
 of the ever-ready colour, made Miss Folger demur. 
 
 " Now, I like it ! " she said. " It is uncommon, 
 and if the dog is as handsome as the better members 
 of his breed, it is expressive. Kate, here, does not 
 care for dogs, while I love them. When Ralph is at 
 home, he gives them the run of the house. He has 
 half a dozen thoroughbreds in the kennels back of 
 the garden. I wish he were here to introduce them 
 to you." 
 
 " I shall beg for the pleasure of introducing myself 
 to them before long. A thoroughbred, intelligent 
 dog is the best substitute I know of for a human 
 friend. Who is it that tells of the epitaph placed 
 over the grave of one who perished while trying to 
 save his master's life? 'He died to save his friend. 
 He kneiv no better. He was only a dog ! ' " 
 
 " Has Dr. Dale given the dog with the ridiculous 
 name to Jeff? " queried the Middle Miss Meagley, 
 suspending her fingers in air, in the act of drawing a 
 thread, and rounding her eyes at Miss Bell. 
 
 " Jeff is the self-appointed custodian of the beauty," 
 replied Myrtle, indifferently, "who, by the way, is a 
 connoisseur in roses, Miss Folger. I wish you could 
 have seen him inspect a superb jacqueminot to-day, 
 and then sniff his approval. My uncle had an Irish 
 setter, Duke by name, who had fine taste in the 
 matter of scenery, sunsets, and moonlight. I shall 
 never love another dog as I loved Duke." 
 
 " You may change your mind if Beautiful should 
 ever become your property," said Miss Meagley, 
 blandly. 
 
 "What is it, little woman?" asked John Bell, as he 
 and his sister walked down the hill capped by the 
 Folger house. 
 
 " What is what f " 
 
 " Don't try that on at this late day, Miss Pert! As
 
 92 Dr. Dale 
 
 if I did n't know that something is out of gear when 
 your heels strike sparks and your chin is on the high 
 level! What happened up there to stir you up? 
 I can answer for Miss Folger, but Miss Meagley is a 
 trifle peculiar sometimes." 
 
 " You put it mildly ! " said Myrtle, sarcastically. 
 Then she broke forth with : " How that nettle and 
 that lily can dwell together in unity passes my 
 comprehension ! " 
 
 John's eyes twinkled. 
 
 " Millennial ? " he suggested teasingly. " I admit 
 the lily, and all the name implies. But are n't you 
 rather hard upon the other? It is one of Dale's 
 pet theories that every human being is capable of 
 any degree of meanness or crime if confronted, when 
 off guard, by the temptation to which he is most 
 vulnerable. He maintains that there is such an one 
 lurking in wait for each of us somewhere." 
 
 " I don't believe it," uttered the girl, indignantly. 
 " I would trust you in any and every circumstance 
 of trial which means temptation." 
 
 " I would n't trust myself. ' Call no man good till 
 he dies.' But Miss Kate Meagley's temptations are 
 manifold. She is poor, yet surrounded by luxury 
 and wealth that belong to other people. She is 
 proud, and when you have seen her family you will 
 comprehend how bitter her mortifications must be. 
 While Miss Folger does her best to lessen her sense 
 of dependence, her position is really that of a paid 
 companion who does not earn one tenth of her 
 salary, and who would be homeless and penniless 
 were she to lose her friend or her friend's favour. 
 Ralph Folger has a positive antipathy to her." 
 Here John almost laughed. " He never hints this 
 to his sister, but Miss Kate is sharp-witted enough 
 to know all about it. She would like to be admired 
 and loved. So far as I know, nobody admires her
 
 "Our Lady of Peace" 93 
 
 except her family, who toady her. Besides her 
 mother and Miss Folger, few love her. She is not 
 popular. Even Mrs. Bowersox says confidentially 
 of her husband's niece, 'Kate poor, dear thing! 
 means well enough, but she has a way of stepping 
 upon folks' corns.' " 
 
 " I should be more sorry for the poor dear thing 
 if she had not stamped upon mine a dozen times 
 this afternoon, and with no provocation whatever 
 that I could see," retorted Myrtle, unappeased by 
 her brother's charitable discourse. " She cannot be 
 beset by an overmastering temptation to be disagree- 
 able to me. I am not likely to rob her of fortune, 
 friend, or lover."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 SANDY MCALPIN 
 
 " Then followed them a later, madder race, 
 Who scoff at gentler arts, and pride of birth ; 
 Who blacken Mother Nature's smiling face, 
 And rip God's hidden treasures from the earth." 
 
 
 interior of the vast Power-house 
 which drove the Folger wells was lit up 
 redly on the side faced by the open door 
 of the furnace. The shadows, beaten into 
 back corners by the flare, were darkly 
 crimson in the reflected light Looking into the 
 mouth of the furnace, one saw into the depths of the 
 pulsing heart of the fire. Blue and white serpents 
 ran quivering over and through it, like arterial life ; 
 the continuous roar of the draught was as the mighty 
 voicings of a cataract. 
 
 Right in front of the open door, never blinking at 
 the glare or shrinking from the heat, Sandy McAlpin, 
 Power-man, gigantic in build, bushy of hair, and 
 with a skin of the colour and texture of saddle 
 leather, descanted upon the glories of his darling, 
 the prodigies she had performed, the greater deeds 
 of which she was capable ; 
 
 " For, mark ye ! she 's fed by coal now as a 
 regular diet. With naught but coal in her maw, she 
 runs twenty wells at once. A belt for this one, a 
 belt for that one, a matter of three belts for Jumbo 
 she's the big well that's yielding one hunder' 
 barrels every hour of the day, and has been doing it 
 this two year. Say I want Her to run thretty wells. 
 Lean away from the fire a bit and look ! "
 
 Sandy McAlpin 95 
 
 He touched a faucet. 
 
 A cyclone of flame struck the palpitating heart ; the 
 cataract roar became deafening; blood-red zigzags, 
 like angry lightning, darted athwart the fiery mass 
 and shot out of the door. 
 
 " That 's what She does when I give Her a taste of 
 the ile ! " said the showman, turning the cock back. 
 " If I were let to give Her that all the time, She 'd 
 beat the faith that removes mountains, all hollow. 
 She 'd tear the earth out by the roots. Here 's a 
 pretty expairimint ! " 
 
 To the top of what looked like an upright iron rod 
 set in the floor, were attached four transverse arms. 
 At the touch of Sandy's finger to a screw, jets of 
 bluish flame rushed from the tip of each, then burned 
 steadily upward. 
 
 "Natural gas! ginerrated by the riservoirs of ile 
 which, in my opeenion, fill the centre of this globe 
 which fools think is solid rock and earth, built upon 
 foundations that cannot be moved. In my humble 
 opeenion, moreover, there's enough of this gas" 
 pronouncing the a more broadly than written letters 
 can express "if 'twas rightly worrked, to light 
 every ceety in Ameriky. An' I 'm not so sure it 
 might n't be carried under seas, like the Atlantic 
 cable, and give light to all nations. I 've many 
 thoughts on these subjicks, seetting here by the 
 hour, with none to convairse with except Her, and 
 meditating upon the wonders I 've seen with my own 
 eyes in this region since the firrst well was sunk, six 
 year agone. 
 
 " Says I to Mr. Folger when he was here last, 
 ' We 're but at the beginning o' mairrvels, sir ! The 
 next thing you '11 build will be natural gas riservoir 
 and tanks and pipes, sir, if you '11 heed my words, 
 in place of the clumsy coal-gas affair that 's giving 
 poor light to Pitvale now. Natural gas-works, sir
 
 96 Dr. Dale 
 
 clean and convenient, and drawing supplies from 
 Mother Earth herself, Mr. Folger ! ' 
 
 "And, says he, 'When I build them worrks, it's 
 you that '11 be Power-man and supply-pipes and riser- 
 voir, all in one, McAlpin.' 
 
 " He 's ever ready with his joke, Mr. Folger is. 
 Come weal, come woe, he'll get his laugh out 
 of it." 
 
 " So much weal has fallen to his share that he can 
 afford to laugh," said Myrtle Bell. " I find a great 
 deal in Pitvale to make me thoughtful." 
 
 She sat upon a chair which McAlpin had wiped 
 with the sleeve of his shirt before offering it to her. 
 By her side crouched Beautiful, his muzzle upon 
 his forepaws, his eyes topazes with iridescent 
 lights in them, like the fire in the opal's heart 
 wide and watchful. 
 
 His mistress had already announced to her brother 
 and Dr. Dale her belief that Beautiful had been a 
 French marquis of the ancien regime in a former 
 incarnation. Such perfection of breeding and deli- 
 cate gallantry could have no meaner origin. The 
 gravity with which he accepted the guardianship of 
 his new owner, the punctilious service he rendered 
 her, and his profound gratification in the performance 
 of the high duty were in hourly proof of the 
 theory. 
 
 The present expedition was not to his taste, but 
 he bowed to the inevitable. If it suited his lady's 
 humour to visit The Inferno and to collogue with big 
 men in corduroy breeches and over-obvious waist- 
 coats, rolled shirt-sleeves showing hairy arms be- 
 grimed with oil and coal-dust, the traditions of the 
 marquis incarnation forbade open protest from the 
 humblest of her servants. When told to " down 
 charge " upon the greasy stone floor, he obeyed with 
 a sigh of much bewilderment. Other sighs, as meek
 
 Sandy McAlpin 97 
 
 and profound, heaved his sides at civil intervals. An 
 occasional sniff, daintily disdainful, indicated the 
 sufferings of refined nostrils which could not exclude 
 the odour of the crude product. 
 
 Partially divining the cause of his uneasiness, 
 Myrtle dropped her hand to his back and let it lie 
 there. She was " doing " Pitvale systematically 
 under her brother's guidance. She was genuinely 
 interested in Sandy McAlpin, John's unlicensed 
 deacon and virtual lieutenant, in whose care she had 
 been left for what remained of the afternoon while 
 John went " to look up a man." Oil-soaked flooring 
 and the pungent reek that hung low in the air that 
 windless day, were matters of less moment to her 
 than to her dog. 
 
 She stroked him soothingly while she continued : 
 
 " I find more to be sorry for than to laugh at in the 
 stories told me hereabouts. What could be sadder, 
 for example, than the experiences of the Meagleys? 
 My brother saw Mr. Meagley yesterday in his 
 back-yard, trying to drill a hole with a crowbar in 
 the frozen ground. He had neither hat nor overcoat 
 on. My brother went to the front door and told 
 Mrs. Meagley where he was and what he was doing. 
 The poor old man was very angry at being inter- 
 rupted. He was sure he would have struck oil in a 
 day or two. It is pitiful ! pitiful ! " 
 
 "Jim! " said McAlpin to a stoker, lounging within 
 earshot. "Run over to No. 13, and say to Mr. 
 Finch I 'd like to have him take my place here for 
 an hour or so, while I 'm showing Miss Bell around." 
 
 As the messenger departed, McAlpin turned to the 
 young lady, a broad grin showing his teeth and 
 making twinkling slits of his eyes. 
 
 " There 's an anecdote I don't like to tell in the 
 hearing of them who might fling it into the faces of 
 the unfortunate, it being the nature of the young to 
 
 7
 
 98 Dr. Dale 
 
 be eendiscreet. Especially when there 's a good joke 
 in the case. 
 
 " Happen you Ve never heard the story of ' Meag- 
 ley's Last Chance' ? No? Then," setting his 
 legs further apart and throwing his weight well back 
 upon his heels, preparatory to the treat of telling his 
 best yarn to a new listener " it was this way. 
 Meagley had dropped every dollar he could rake and 
 scrape, earn or borrow, in wells sunk in onloikely 
 places. One of the onscrupulous sharks that always 
 swarrm in waters where there 's a chance of finding 
 gudgeons, conveenced the poor man that he ought 
 to dreell in a certain hill on the very edge of the 
 farrm Meagley had the name of owning, though 
 't was covered from line-fence to line-fence with 
 mortgages. And dreell he did ! worrking with his 
 own hands all day, as long as the light lasted, and at 
 it by sunrise next morning, and letting crops go to 
 rack and ruin. 
 
 " One summer day, all on a suddint, the tools 
 dropped ten feet! The hole was not down to the 
 firrst sand, ye comprehend, and to strrike ile in such a 
 circumstance was nothing short of a mairacle. He 
 loosened the tension on his rope, and let down the 
 tools grradually. 
 
 " There was no meestake. They sunk lower and 
 lower into a ready-made pit. He drew them up. 
 They were wet with yellow stuff like refined ile. 
 
 " Poor old Meagley gave a shout that brought fifty 
 men running up the hill. There was the dreepping 
 tools ! and there was the hole with the hollow at the 
 bottom. One lang-headed fellow I '11 wager he was 
 a Scotchman ! minded himself that, if seeing 's be- 
 lieving, tasting and smelling is knowing. With that, 
 he gives a leeck to the bar, and yells out, ' Holy Moses ! 
 it's beer!' Quicker than I could tell it, they hauled 
 a sand-pump up the hill and ran it down. As sure
 
 Sandy McAlpin 99 
 
 as you 're sitting there, it sucked up beer! Of 
 good quallity, too ! By this time there war a hun- 
 derd men on th' spot and old Meagley was fair 
 demented with joy and wonder. 
 
 " ' It 's the Promised Land ! ' he was bawling at the 
 top of his cracked lungs, a-worrking the pump with 
 all his might, and the men filling pans and buckets 
 with the stuff, foamy and cool, and onmeestakeable 
 beer. 
 
 " ' A Land flowing with milk and honey ! ' says he. 
 ' And corn and wine ! And why not beer? ' 
 
 " Why not, indeed ! There was the beer to speak 
 for itself, and speaking most satisfactory, as all 
 agreed. The crowd increased every minute, for the 
 worrd run like lighted petroleum down a steep grade. 
 
 " Presently a man broke through the crowd. He 
 had run up-hill with all his might. He puffed like an 
 engine. He was hot. He was streaming with sweat. 
 He was a German. He was mad as a hatter. 
 
 " ' Gott in Himmel ! ' he yelled as soon as he got 
 breath. ' You was been proke mit mein vault ! ' 
 
 " He was a brewer. He had tunnelled the hill 
 from the other side, as he had a right to do, having 
 bought the land, and built a beer-vault where his 
 stuff would be cool and safe. The tools had run 
 plump into a tun of his best beer ! " 1 
 
 He broke off laugh and speech as the opening 
 door let in a rush of cold air and a streak of white 
 daylight. 
 
 " Miss Bell ! " said Dr. Dale. " Behold in me your 
 deliverer ! I heard McAlpin's voice, and I am here 
 to save you from the rest of his thousand-and-one 
 Pitvalian Tales. Your brother told me you were 
 making a tour of the Folger wells. May I go along, 
 McAlpin?" turning upon the brawny Scot the magic 
 of the sudden, brilliant smile none could resist. " I 
 
 1 Fact.
 
 ioo Dr. Dale 
 
 promise not to contradict a word you say. He knows 
 more about rock oil in one minute, Miss Bell, than I 
 shall learn in a lifetime." 
 
 When they were outside of the Power-house, he 
 glanced at Myrtle's feet. 
 
 "You have thick shoes, I hope? The walking is 
 rough." 
 
 " Jack warned me what I might expect in that 
 line and from oil-puddles." She put out a trim 
 foot shod with a stout boot. "The thickness of 
 my soles and the brevity of my Alpine skirt rather 
 shocked Mrs. Bowersox. She thought them sensible. 
 But ' most people around here wear skirts that touch 
 the ground, and she is afraid folks may talk.' " 
 
 " I hope the talk will not be fatal," said Dale, 
 dryly. " Here begins the test ! " 
 
 Down the hill six women paraded, two and two, 
 toward them. All were in their best afternoon 
 dresses and Sunday hats. Every skirt swept the board 
 sidewalk. Each pair of hands was smoothly gloved 
 and neatly trussed upon the pit of the wearer's stomach. 
 
 Dr. Dale lifted his hat in taking to the gutter to 
 give the procession leeway; McAlpin followed suit. 
 Myrtle bowed from the inside of the walk, recognis- 
 ing four of the Meagley sisters and the faces of the 
 other and younger women as two she had seen at 
 church. The Meagley sisters were costumed as 
 when they called upon her last week. Miss Julia 
 walked in purple pomp and silk attire. Miss Emme- 
 line was in dark-green merino, gown and cloak to 
 match; Miss Levina had on a navy-blue "suit" of 
 the same material; Miss Harriet sported a stunning 
 gown and jacket of sage-green plush, that swore at 
 the rest of the family outfit, and more blasphemously 
 yet at her opaque skin and dull yellow hair. 
 
 " 'Minds a fellow mostly of a walking rainbow ! " 
 muttered Sandy in the doctor's ear.
 
 Sandy McAlpin 101 
 
 The silent six inclined solemn heads in answer to 
 the salutations they received ; six pairs of lips re- 
 mained tightly folded ; twelve eyes stared at the 
 frankly visible boots of the Dominie's sister. After 
 they had passed her, each glanced over her shoulder, 
 as if worked by an electric button, to make sure her 
 sight had not played her false. 
 
 Happily unconscious of the ill-bred retrospection, 
 Myrtle climbed the rising ground, on the highest 
 point of which towered the " Jumbo " derrick. The 
 first steel tank built in Pitvale was close by, a long, 
 low structure with slanting sides. At one end was a 
 flight of iron steps shining with the oil which seemed 
 to exude from the pores of the solid steel. 
 
 McAlpin went up first, wheeling at the top and 
 spreading out his hands ruefully. 
 
 " I dare n't offer to help her, on account of the 
 blamed ile ! " to Dr. Dale. " You '11 see to her? " 
 
 " He may catch me if I fall ! " answered Myrtle, 
 brightly. " My boot-soles were roughened for walk- 
 ing on ice and standing in other slippery places." 
 
 She was at the guide's side as she said it, and, for- 
 getful for the moment of what she was there to see, 
 exclaimed at the extent of the view. 
 
 The amphitheatre of hills of which the town was the 
 centre arose into the majesty of mountains toward 
 the south, and in that direction the forest of derricks 
 parted into a vista lost in misty blue peaks. Reaches 
 of winter-wheat were greening the outlying farm- 
 lands, intersected by belts of pines and the rich 
 browns and grays of leafless coppices. In the lee of 
 these and on the unsunned side of stone fences, snow- 
 drifts were leaking away their life. The silver ribbon 
 of the creek joined another beyond the meeting 
 shoulders of the nearer hills, and the two formed a 
 river winding seaward. 
 
 " I can imagine it as lovely in summer," said the
 
 102 Dr. Dale 
 
 girl, " always excepting the derricks and the chim- 
 neys. Beautiful agrees with me in disliking them, 
 don't you, old fellow? " 
 
 He had tripped up the steps delicately, and, still a- 
 tiptoe, pressed close to her, gazing abroad as she 
 gazed, ears pointed, and tail in abeyance, his whole 
 attitude one of dignified non-committal. 
 
 " If 't were n't for derricks and chimneys, where 'd 
 the millions be that's been made in this valley?" 
 retorted the Power-man. " Look in there ! won't 
 ye? Ain't that worth all the landscape 'twixt here 
 and Novy Scotiay?" 
 
 He lifted a trap-door. Iron pipes were laid along 
 the top of the tank, a foot or more from the surface, 
 curving where the ends entered the immense recep- 
 tacle. The opened trap revealed a thick, yellowish- 
 green stream flowing from the mouth of a pipe into 
 the almost brimming tank. It gurgled viscidly in 
 falling, and made slow wrinkles upon the sullen pool. 
 The odour of the rising gas was stifling. 
 
 " It don't smell fine, and it don't look pretty," said 
 Sandy, bending gloatingly over the aperture. " But 
 it might be molten gold when you consider what it 's 
 worth. D' ye mark that train down there at the end 
 of the valley, with a hunderd big tanks aboard? By 
 this time to-morrow, them tanks '11 be chockfull of 
 this " tapping the tank with his boot " and off to 
 the refinery. This tank holds three thousand barrels, 
 and she's drawn off through them pipes and pumped 
 underground down to the station-vats every day. 
 Say it clears but a dollar a barrel what does that 
 sound like to you by the year, Dr. Dale? " 
 
 " You 've done the sum often enough to know," re- 
 joined the doctor, good-humouredly. " A good many 
 of the thousands are sinking into the ground over 
 there ! " pointing to a neighbouring eminence where 
 a prostrate derrick lifted its forlorn legs into the air
 
 Sandy McAlpin 103 
 
 like the skeleton of a prehistoric monster. "When 
 a well goes dry, is there any use in trying to sink an- 
 other in the same place? What are your views as to 
 re-opening ' The Ruth '? " 
 
 Sandy was oracular and portentous. 
 
 " As for that matter, there 's what may be said to 
 be all sorts and condeetions of opeenions. I said to 
 Mr. Folger when he did me the honour to ask my 
 opeenion on the subjick, ' The Ruth 's been a braw 
 well in her day, sir,' says I. ' I mind when she 
 did her hunderd an hour without hurrying her. 
 Then she fell to seventy-five, and then to fifty, then 
 to fifteen and then to nothing dry as a last 
 year's bone. Fill her up, sir ! ' says I. ' Put a tomb- 
 stone over her, for the sake of the name, if you like, 
 and for what she 's done in the past, and to tell how 
 she died game, as you may say. But it 's flinging 
 good money after bad to dreell through that bed-rock, 
 Mr. Folger. Since you 've asked me, I maun speak 
 the truth.' 
 
 " And, says he, with that easy-going laugh of his 
 that would make a body grin if he had the tooth- 
 ache, ' That 's all right, Sandy, me lad,' says he. 
 ' But I 've made up my mind to keep on boring till 
 the sand-pump brings up tea-leaves. Then I '11 know 
 I 've struck China if not oil.' 
 
 " It 's all the talk now that the car-load of dynamite 
 stored two miles out of town is going to be used in 
 blarsting the bed-rock." 
 
 " Dynamite ! That 's a new departure ! " 
 
 " True, sir ! And a new danger. Ah ! ah ! weel 
 sayeth the Good Book, ' Woe unto them that make 
 haste to be reech ! ' 
 
 With one last fond look at the ill-smelling, greenish- 
 black depths, he let the trap fall. 
 
 " For all his moralising he would be the craziest of 
 speculators but for Scotch caution and John Bell,"
 
 Dr. Dale 
 
 observed Dale, when, their round of inspection con- 
 cluded, they parted with McAlpin at the Power- 
 house door and turned their faces homeward. " Nor 
 is he the only man by many whom that magnificent 
 brother of yours has saved from temporal, if not 
 from everlasting destruction." 
 
 Myrtle's eyes sparkled. 
 
 "He is a glorious fellow, isn't he? I used to 
 think, with the rest of the family, that he was throw- 
 ing himself away in staying here. I understand him 
 better now, and can see why you two should stand 
 in your lot and do the work of heroes in what Mr. 
 Welsh calls ' this God-forsaken corner of the world.' 
 I never guessed, even from Jack's letters, how much 
 of sin and suffering there is in this fast-growing hub- 
 bub of a place until yesterday. I spent the day with 
 Miss Folger, you know. 
 
 "Who, let me say here, reminds me more and 
 more of a ' pearl of purest ray serene,' every time I 
 see her. She took me into the secret of what she 
 calls" her ' Inasmuch Library.' You have heard of 
 it, so I am not betraying her confidence in speaking 
 of it. 
 
 " One book and this struck me as appropriate, 
 although I did not say it to her is bound in black, 
 and lettered ' MR. WELSH.' Another has a red 
 cover and has your name on it. A third is lettered 
 ' MR. BELL.' That is blue. They are bound in 
 heavy morocco and look like ledgers. Those she 
 showed to me are dated this year. She has been 
 keeping these books for three years. In them is 
 registered, in her own hand, every case of distress 
 and want reported to her by you three. She knows 
 every poor family in town ; the number of children 
 in each, their names and ages ; the amount of the 
 husbands' and sons' wages; whether men and women 
 drink or are sober; who belong to The Bachelors'
 
 Sandy McAlpin 105 
 
 Club ; who attend church and schools in short, 
 every particular of their lives and characters that 
 can be of use to her in her work of helping and 
 uplifting. 
 
 "Think of it!" her eyes shining with generous 
 dew. " This woman, who cannot leave her chair 
 except when she is carried in men's arms, whose 
 life, one might suppose, would be bounded by the 
 walls of her own house, is really in touch with 
 every household in Pitvale and the suburbs, ac- 
 quainted with the griefs of those who weep, rejoic- 
 ing with those who do rejoice. I am ashamed of my 
 petty, selfish, commonplace existence when I com- 
 pare it with hers. She has gained ten talents for 
 her one talent. I have hidden my five in a poor 
 little napkin, a flimsy, embroidered doyley ! " 
 
 They were passing the Club-House. As the last 
 energetic sentence left her lips, the front door was 
 flung open with a resonant bang, and a man ran 
 down the steps.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 " LENORE " 
 " The setting sun and music at the close." 
 
 REACHING the street, the impetuous 
 stranger swung abruptly to the right and 
 almost collided with Dr. Dale. 
 " Pardon ! " he began, raising his hat. 
 His eyes fell upon Myrtle's face, and he 
 stopped, stock-still, hat in air, mouth and eyes wide 
 open, staring stupidly at the girl. 
 
 The sunset kindled his red hair into a fiery glow 
 and shed a radiance over his freckled face. Every 
 feature from the slightly uptilted nose to the 
 pale gray-green eyes was instinct with delighted 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Oh-h ! " gasped he at last. 
 
 " Mr. Folger! " smiled Myrtle, offering her hand. 
 
 "Yes! Certainly! Oh yes ! certainly!" speaking 
 jerkily and seizing the proffered hand as though it 
 were a safety-rope. " It knocked me off my feet 
 a bit to see you, Miss Bell. You don't know how 
 glad I am to see you. Do you know I hunted over 
 half of Europe, looking for you? I mean for your 
 party, you know. 
 
 " Don't stand here in the cold ! Let me walk on 
 with you and your friend Why, it 's Dale, to be 
 sure!" holding out his left hand to him. "Beg 
 pardon, old man ! I 'm a bit rattled, you see. Half 
 over the Continent, upon my honour, Miss Bell! 
 That dago porter forgot to wake me the morning 
 you left Venice, although he had the strictest orders 
 to do so in the most villainous Italian. He had the
 
 "Lenore" 107 
 
 worst face I ever saw that porter! When I got 
 to your hotel, I found you had been gone an hour. 
 The people didn't know on what train or pre- 
 tended they didn't or what way. I telegraphed 
 to nine cities ; paid my red-headed beggar the 
 one I gave the gondola to, you know? fifty lire 
 to thrash that rascally porter who forgot to wake me, 
 and then started off in the next train for Paris. 
 
 " All good Americans bring up in Paris, first or 
 last. But it was no use. Sometimes I came on 
 your trail, but could never find you. Sort of Con- 
 tinental Gabriel and Evangeline, wasn't it? 
 
 " ' Both were so young, and one so beautiful ! ' 
 
 you know. No! no! that's Byron isn't it? It 
 was n't what I meant to quote, any way. 
 
 " But who would have expected to find you here? 
 Here of all places ! Oh ! pardon me ! I did n't 
 notice " 
 
 The plea was evoked by Myrtle's withdrawal of 
 the long-suffering hand Ralph Folger had been 
 shaking vehemently as they strolled up the street, 
 ludicrously unaware of the awkwardness of the 
 situation. 
 
 " I am staying here with my brother," began the 
 girl, unable to control her risibles. 
 
 " Your brother ! You don't mean to say that old 
 John Bell the Dominie is your brother! And 
 he never told me the close-mouthed traitor ! Why, 
 Bell is one of the best friends I 've got on earth. I 
 hope you're staying here a long time? But you'll 
 find " 
 
 " Now please don't say I '11 find Pitvale a great 
 change after life on the Continent ! " begged Myrtle. 
 " Every one says that. People seem to think that 
 four years of travel have made me unfit to live in 
 my own country."
 
 io8 Dr. Dale 
 
 " They talk in the same way to me ! " pulling off 
 his hat to bow to a passing carriage. " But it is a 
 great change." 
 
 " A very pleasant change. And nobody has done 
 more to make it pleasant than Miss Folger." 
 
 "Ah! you have met Ruth? Dear girl, Ruth! 
 She and I are awfully fond of one another. She lets 
 me turn the place upside-down, and have the dogs 
 all over the house. How do you do, Rhynders?" 
 to a man in oily overalls, whose grimy face was one 
 grin of pleased recognition. " Glad to see you ! 
 Dale, I congratulate you on the way the Club is 
 booming. I Ve just been looking through it, and I 
 find " 
 
 " How long have you been in town?" interrupted 
 Dale, as Myrtle surmised, to avert the impending 
 compliment to his management. 
 
 Folger's frank heartiness robbed his disjointed 
 rattle of the freshness and flippancy that might 
 otherwise have flavoured it. The two hearers, versed 
 in his ways, had waited patiently for his exuberance 
 to expend itself. 
 
 " I got in an hour ago. I struck New York yester- 
 day from Hamburg and came on as soon as 
 I could. I went straight home, and found Ruth 
 in the thick of a tea-fight. Why, every Meagley 
 that ever came down the pike except the two old 
 people was there, and two other women with them. 
 There were five of a kind, Kate and all her 
 sisters. Five whole ones. A full hand of Meagleys ! 
 Think what a scene for a wanderer to come home 
 to ! They were all going to stay to supper. I 
 could n't stand that. So I told Ruth I had business 
 at the Club and would n't be home till late. I went 
 to the Club just to square myself with the Record- 
 ing Angel, you know. I am always aware that I 
 have a conscience when I am dealing with Ruth.
 
 "Lenore" 109 
 
 Behold my reward ! Where are you staying? Not 
 at a hotel, I hope?" 
 
 " No. At Mrs. Bowersox's, with John. We are 
 on our way home. Won't you " 
 
 " Indeed I will ! with a heart and a half! Do you 
 know it 's a Coincidence nothing less? I was just 
 going there too. I could n't dine at home, so I 
 thought I'd run over and ask Mrs. Bowersox to let 
 me take pot-luck with your brother." 
 
 " How are you going to square yourself with the 
 Recording Angel for that speech? Or have you 
 parted company with your conscience? " asked Dale, 
 looking down at the boy with friendly indulgence 
 in eye and accent. 
 
 The young fellow laughed. 
 
 " I am acting upon the principle that the end 
 justifies the means. May I take supper with you, 
 Miss Bell?" 
 
 The three filled the sidewalk, which was growing 
 steep. Dale held his place at Myrtle's side, and 
 Folger, ranging himself at the doctor's other hand, 
 talked across him. Every few yards, Ralph fell back 
 to let some one coming the other way pass him. 
 Most of those they met were workmen going home 
 to supper, and it was pleasant to watch the greetings 
 between them and the returned traveller, whom they 
 all knew. Every hand flew up to the owner's hat, 
 every face beamed ; now and then a hat went off 
 with a flourish that meant " Hurrah ! " 
 
 " How does it feel to have everybody so happy 
 to see you?" said Myrtle, regardless of the last 
 question in her interest in the side-scene. 
 
 Ralph jerked off his own hat and said, " Good- 
 day ! " to a fat Dutchwoman who carried a full 
 laundress's basket and dropped a low courtesy in 
 spite of her burden. 
 
 " It feels like Home ! " he said simply and earnestly.
 
 no Dr. Dale 
 
 A silent minute passed before he resumed in his 
 former tone, 
 
 " Honestly, I do want to see the Dominie upon 
 business. I want to get at the facts in the case of 
 poor Svensen's death. Somebody ought to be held 
 up for that affair. It was murder, out and out, yet 
 the Italian vagabond was allowed to get away with- 
 out arrest." 
 
 " Manslaughter, at the utmost," said Dale, gravely. 
 " Svensen had his knife, too. Cut and thrust mean 
 no more in such circumstances than ' You did ! ' and 
 ' I did n't ! ' Hot blood and bad whiskey did the 
 rest." 
 
 " You are dead right there ! But there are lots 
 of other things I must talk over with Bell. Ruth 
 never lets her left hand that's ME, Miss Bell ! 
 know what her right hand does ; so I must trust to 
 the Dominie to put me next to facts where her chari- 
 ties are concerned. I '11 find him at home this time 
 of day, I suppose? " 
 
 " I 'm sure you will. He left me some time ago 
 in Sandy McAlpin's care at the Power-house. He 
 had a call to make. He will be charmed to see 
 you, We were talking of you this morning." 
 
 "You hadn't entirely forgotten me then?" The 
 eager tone was lost in a deprecatory laugh as he 
 went on: "Confess, Miss Bell! You recollected 
 me more by my hair than by anything else? You 
 need n't try to deny it. The moment I met you 
 your eyes travelled reminiscently to my head. Think 
 what it must be to a sensitive man to know he is 
 recalled mainly because his head is the only one of 
 its kind in all this wide, colourless world ! Now, 
 if it were only a rich brown like yours, or even an 
 interesting iron-gray like Dale's ! But no kind deity 
 formed my head for the delectation of an aesthetic 
 cult. Only for"
 
 "Lenore" m 
 
 " How about the divinity that shapes our ends?" 
 queried Dale. " Don't be ungrateful. Take the 
 goods the gods provide, and don't quarrel over the 
 colour." 
 
 Ralph was off upon another tack. 
 
 " There 's the dear old farmhouse ! " he ejaculated 
 at a turn that changed the street into a road. 
 
 John Bell had named it "Presto Corner," so 
 abrupt was the transition from town to country. 
 The board walk gave place to a raised foot-path 
 with pebbled sides that kept it passable in wet 
 weather; a lane, leafy in summer and merry with 
 bird-songs, led up to a gate the rough stone posts 
 of which were set in a privet hedge five feet high, 
 and nearly as thick with the growth of fifty years. 
 The carriage road, entering this, enclosed a circle 
 of turf dotted with old-fashioned shrubs, in sweeping 
 around to the hospitable doors. 
 
 " It is the one landmark Oil has not touched," 
 pursued Ralph, sentimentally. " I make it a pious 
 duty to come here whenever I visit Pitvale to con- 
 vince myself that I am one and the same with the 
 boy who used to eat bread-and-honey under the 
 maples at the back-door. Ah ! there is Bell ! " 
 
 John had opened both halves of the Dutch door 
 with promptness that showed he had been on the 
 look-out. He greeted the traveller warmly. Myrtle 
 saw at a glance the loving admiration in which Ralph 
 held her brother, and liked her eccentric acquaint- 
 ance better from that instant. 
 
 " May we come into your parlour, Myrtle ? " asked 
 John, as they passed into the house. " It is more 
 cosey than the other room, and my study is all 
 cluttered up." 
 
 " Certainly ! You need not ask the question," 
 eying him closely. 
 
 There was an air of suppressed excitement about
 
 n2 Dr. Dale 
 
 him that puzzled her, a sort of joyous flurry she 
 felt could not be wholly attributable to Ralph 
 Folger's home-coming. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Bell ! " cried Jeff, emerging from his 
 mother's chamber on the other side of the hall, a 
 wild vision of pink and gold and white, not unlike a 
 sweet pea " a-tiptoe for a flight," " how do you like 
 your " 
 
 " Thomas Jefferson ! " thundered John, in mock 
 wrath. 
 
 " I fought she 'd seen it ! " protested the culprit. 
 " I helped the men " 
 
 Bell picked up the wriggling white-robed figure, 
 deposited it inside of the nursery door, and shut it in, 
 disregarding the staccato appeals of the offender. 
 
 " What is all this mystery? Tell me ! " commanded 
 Myrtle, her voice shaken by laughter. 
 
 John's answer was to throw wide the front parlour- 
 door. 
 
 She glanced into the lighted room, and flung both 
 arms about her brother's neck. 
 
 " Jack ! Jack ! a piano ! " Her tone hinted at 
 what would have been hysterics in a weaker woman. 
 "John Bell ! you are the dearest brother in the uni- 
 verse ! The one thing I needed to make me perfectly 
 happy ! " 
 
 John held her away from him to look at the radiant 
 face, his eyes gleaming suspiciously. The big fellow 
 had the heart of a child in all pertaining to the little 
 sister. 
 
 "And you like it?" 
 
 " Like it ! What a beggarly word ! And you 
 were lamenting this very morning that I could n't 
 play for you at twilight as I used to do in the dear 
 old times ! What a finished hypocrite you are ! 
 And you a clergyman ! A monster of duplicity ! " 
 
 " I ordered it from Philadelphia the day after you
 
 "Lenore" 113 
 
 came. I have n't had a chance to make you a present 
 worth talking about in years and years. We arranged 
 to have it brought up from the station while you 
 were out this afternoon, and had a piano-tuner here 
 to put it into shape. That 's why I left you at the 
 Power-house. I sent Dale back to make sure you 
 did n't get home before everything was in order, the 
 curtain ready to go up, and all that," continued 
 John, with the enraptured simplicity of a school-boy. 
 " He was in the plot, too ! " 
 
 " ' Blessed art thou among brothers ! ' " sighed the 
 girl, running her ringers over the keys. 
 
 Beautiful, who had scampered upstairs upon busi- 
 ness of his own as soon as the party entered the 
 house, now stood stiffly by the piano, nose in air, 
 scrutinising the strange object with the air of a con- 
 noisseur. Myrtle put an arm about him and drew 
 his cheek to hers. 
 
 " You approve of it, don't you, dear? It is the 
 only thing upon earth that could make me forget you 
 for a second." 
 
 " What a splendid dog ! " said Ralph, as Beautiful 
 writhed ecstatically out of his mistress's embrace, 
 rushed to a distant corner, then galloped back. 
 " He 's almost the same colour on top that I am. 
 What has he got in his mouth?" 
 
 "Only one of my slippers!" laughed the girl, 
 taking the little shoe from the jaws that held it lightly. 
 " He must have run upstairs for it. He has original 
 ideas as to the proper way of welcoming the coming 
 guest. Whenever I come home, he rushes around 
 and picks up something usually the thing that 
 comes handiest and brings it to me. He, evidently 
 means it for a votive offering." 
 
 " It does n't matter what the offering is, either," 
 chimed in Bell. " Some ladies were calling upon my 
 sister yesterday very swell visitors, if you please 
 
 8
 
 H4 Dr. Dale 
 
 and Beautiful snatched up Mrs. Bowersox's best 
 bonnet from the bed where she had laid it a minute 
 before, tore downstairs with it, and laid it at Miss 
 Florence Vandergrift's feet." 
 
 " With Mrs. Bowersox a good second in the race? " 
 inquired Ralph. 
 
 "No. She took it very kindly after she found 
 the bonnet was n't hurt. She said she supposed it 
 was the poor dear's dumb way of being polite." 
 
 " Won't you christen the piano, Miss Bell, by play- 
 ing for us?" said Dale. "Remember how long we 
 have been a piano-less household. It is your mission 
 to bring us out of darkness and silence." 
 
 The girl stood for a moment, irresolute. She was 
 all woman, and while her brother and his confrere 
 might overlook soiled boots and short cloth skirt, 
 Ralph Folger would contrast them with the correct 
 evening toilettes she had worn in Venice and Rome. 
 There was not a taint of the flirt of commerce in her 
 nature, yet, knowing that Ralph had admired her 
 abroad, she wished him to find her none the less 
 attractive here. 
 
 " If you will postpone the ceremony until I can 
 lay off my hat and change my shoes," she said, and 
 ran off to her room. 
 
 " Already ! " smiled her brother when she reap- 
 peared in the parlour, where the three men stood 
 on the hearth-rug deep in chat. " You must have a 
 lightning-express patent for toilettes." 
 
 He looked the admiration the others felt. Her 
 attire was not out of place in the Bowersox farm- 
 house. It would not have been shamed by the full- 
 dress of a Philadelphia belle. A soft black silk, she 
 had a fancy for fabrics that lent themselves readily 
 to pliant, drooping folds, cut en Princesse, fitted 
 her perfectly. The V-shaped front of the corsage 
 was filled with white tulle ; the trained skirt made her
 
 "Lenore" 115 
 
 look taller and more slender than she really was ; a 
 bunch of blood-red roses took away the effect of 
 plainness from the rounded bust Her eyes shone 
 with happiness; she owed the richer bloom of her 
 complexion to the long walk in the frosty air and 
 excitement over her brother's gift. 
 
 " Twelve minutes by my watch ! " she returned 
 gaily. " Is n't that in keeping with lightning-express 
 rules, ' ten minutes for refreshments ' ? " 
 
 She went directly to the piano, as to a longed-for 
 luxury, sat down and improvised a prelude, while 
 waiting for suggestions from her audience. 
 
 " Do you recollect the little starlight thing you sang 
 for us the night we all went out in my gondola," 
 broke in Ralph, " the time I nearly upset the boat 
 because the other gondolas would go the wrong way? 
 Sing it, please ! It will bring back old times." 
 
 "You mean 'Adrift'?" 
 
 "Yes! that 's the name. Won't you sing it? " 
 
 The aimless prelude gathered meaning; the idly 
 struck chords formed themselves into an air, and the 
 girl sang. 
 
 Her voice was not of the grand opera order. It 
 was not even highly cultivated. It was true, sympa- 
 thetic, and sweet as a thrush's vespers. The song, 
 as she gave it, adapted itself to the mood of the little 
 red-haired man, who watched her with the alert devo- 
 tion with which a fox-terrier eyes his owner. 
 
 Dale had sunk into his favourite chair by the fire. 
 John Bell, leaning against the mantel, looked dawn, 
 with ineffable pride upon the little sister. 
 
 Adrift upon a starlit sea, 
 
 Beneath a starlit sky, 
 In some far, old-world Arcady, 
 
 We floated, you and I. 
 With one clear song, the night along, 
 
 Of love that cannot die.
 
 n6 Dr. Dale 
 
 Forgot was time's unceasing flight ; 
 
 Forgot the noisy shore. 
 Together, 'neath the stars' dim light, 
 
 We floated evermore. 
 And aye again, our song's refrain 
 
 That same sweet burden bore. 
 
 Heart of my heart! the years have flown, 
 
 And lost is Arcady ; 
 But ofttimes, as I dream alone, 
 
 The Past comes back to me : 
 The skies above, our song of love, 
 
 The starlight, and the Sea ! 
 
 Dale's gaze strayed from the glowing embers to 
 Ralph Folger's face. In it he read or thought he 
 read silent adoration oddly out of keeping with the 
 almost grotesque features. 
 
 The sight sent a queer pang to the physician's 
 heart, pain that confounded him. 
 
 After all, what affair was it of his? What right had 
 he to care how Folger looked, or how Folger felt? 
 If the multi-millionaire a capital little chap in his 
 way loved the girl, why should Egbert Dale, an 
 obscure country doctor, concern himself about it? 
 The man was rich, true as steel to his friends, be- 
 nevolent, and honest. The girl was pretty and poor. 
 What could be more suitable? 
 
 Having argued himself into this attitude of judicial 
 complacency, Egbert Dale in the next breath cursed 
 himself for a hypocrite. 
 
 No affair of his? Why, it was all the world to him. 
 And now he saw, for the first time, that it had been 
 his world ever since the bitterly cold morning when a 
 half-open door had given him a glimpse of Paradise. 
 
 Moved by some occult force, Ralph Folger's eyes 
 met his. Each man looked away instantly, yet not 
 before each had guessed the other's secret. 
 
 " That 's very pretty, dear," said unobservant John,
 
 "Lenore" 117 
 
 as the song was ended. " But do you know I'd rather 
 hear the old songs you used to sing? They mean 
 more to me. ' The Last Rose of Summer,' and 
 ' Scenes that are Brightest,' and ' Then You '11 Re- 
 member Me,' and others of the same sort. Have 
 you forgotten them?" 
 
 " No, dear ! " returning his glance with one as elo- 
 quent of love and memory. " We don't forget such 
 songs. You shall have them whenever you like. 
 Shall I begin now?" 
 
 "After supper one and all. If you are not too 
 tired. Ralph and I have some matters to settle that 
 will take us into my study. We '11 be all through by 
 supper-time." 
 
 He moved toward the door. 
 
 " I hope it will not disturb your ' matters ' if I strum 
 on the piano " without looking around. " You can 
 shut both doors, if you like." 
 
 Dale arose with the others, but lingered when they 
 had gone. 
 
 " Would you mind very much if I were to stay here 
 and listen while you are playing? " he asked, with dif- 
 fidence foreign to his usual manner. 
 
 She answered readily and kindly, 
 
 " If you won't mind my being wretchedly out of 
 practice. I have n't touched a piano in months. It 's 
 a godsend to be able to play again." 
 
 While she spoke her fingers were awakening little 
 trickles and gushes of music, as a brook sings when 
 the ice yields to spring sunshine. She had not turned 
 her head, and seemed not to know that they were 
 left to themselves. The sun had set ; the winter twi- 
 light was fading; the shaded lamp in one corner of 
 the large room was outshone by the fire. 
 
 Dale seated himself again in the chair by the 
 hearth ; his pale, classic face brought out by the blaze 
 into striking relief against the dark cushions. At his
 
 n8 Dr. Dale 
 
 feet slumbered Beautiful, pursuing in his dreams some 
 ever-elusive quarry, as was shown by the convulsive 
 twitchings of his forelegs and an occasional strangled 
 growl from between his shining white fangs. 
 
 Myrtle was in the shadow, her face alone dimly 
 visible in the half-light. She seemed to Dale like the 
 St. Cecilia of an age-darkened painting by an old 
 master. 
 
 She played a few bars tentatively, as though trying 
 to recall an air. 
 
 Dale raised his head. 
 
 " Is n't that from the march in Raffs ' Lenore ' ? " 
 
 " Why," in surprised accents, " &v you know " 
 
 " Yes, I know it," he finished lightly, as she checked 
 the query. " You 've no idea how many fine chances 
 a general practitioner in the backwoods has of hear- 
 ing classic music. Seriously, I do know it, and I 
 have longed, a hundred times, to hear it again. Please 
 go on with it." 
 
 She obeyed wonderingly. While her touch proved 
 her to be a more accomplished pianist than vocalist, 
 she gave to the music the same tender, sympathetic 
 quality that had marked her song. 
 
 The strains of the most moving march ever written 
 ebbed and flowed through the silent house. 
 
 Ralph Folger, deep in the important business 
 "matters" across the hall, heard it, answered ques- 
 tions at random, and made irrelevant inquiries that 
 amazed his interlocutor. 
 
 Mrs. Bowersox, busied with maternal cares in the 
 more distant nursery, paused in the all-important task 
 of imbedding the ubiquitous Thomas Jefferson, and 
 listened. 
 
 " I don't set much store by pieces with no tune to 
 them," she told Myrtle next day. " But the one you 
 were playing before supper last night made me feel 
 queer and choked up right here," indicating her
 
 enore" 119 
 
 ample throat. " Kind of 's if I was expecting to hear 
 bad news or," with a bold swoop of fancy, " 's if 
 I was listening to a love-story or else a powerful 
 moving sermon." 
 
 Dale sat as if carved in marble. His eyes never 
 left the glowing caverns and changing phantasms the 
 true fire-worshipper traces in the recesses of living 
 wood-coals. The march rolled on, now hushed and 
 awed, as the voice of one bowed in the presence of 
 the Great Dead ; now rising into a wail, as of many 
 women weeping over a common loss; now swelling 
 forth, ominous, defiant, re-echoing, and dying away 
 into a distant murmur, to soar again into a volume 
 of sound in the finale. 
 
 As the closing chords clashed out and sank, a 
 great silence fell between the man and the girl, so 
 profound that the breathing of the sleeping dog, the 
 tinkle of dropping ashes, were audible. 
 
 " I should never play that ! " said Myrtle, at last, 
 shivering slightly. " It takes too much out of me." 
 
 "What does it mean?" mused Dale, aloud. 
 " Something ominous and despairing runs through it. 
 It is the death-song of a soul that has battled like a 
 hero against overwhelming odds and has failed, one 
 who has dared to defy Destiny itself, and who has 
 lost all. A soul not without stain, perhaps, but with- 
 out fear. The soul of a MAN ! " 
 
 " Still there is a note of hope underlying it," urged 
 Myrtle, " despairing, forlorn hope, if you will, but 
 hope ! And there is, as you say, defiance, the song 
 of the conquered whose courage is still unconquered, 
 a will baffled, not crushed." 
 
 " Strange that it should strike you so too ! " Dale 
 turned toward her and spoke animatedly. " I never 
 knew of any one else who felt as I do about that 
 march. I heard it, for the first time, many years 
 ago. I was at " He hesitated, then went on
 
 120 Dr. Dale 
 
 reluctantly, protesting at heart against the sentiment 
 that seemed to force itself into words through no 
 volition of his. " It 's a silly fancy, of course. I was 
 younger then, and indulged a fancy sometimes. But 
 the ' Lenore ' march seemed to tell me of my own 
 life, my future struggles, my own fate ! " he ended, 
 sinking his voice to a whisper, low but clear. 
 "Absurd notion, was n't it?" the rich tones grating 
 like a file, and a mirthless laugh rising to the set lips. 
 "The thoughts of youth, you know! I suppose the 
 dusk, the firelight, and the music brought it back to 
 me and loosened my tongue. Sentimentality is not 
 much in my line." 
 
 The girl had wheeled the piano-stool around, and 
 sat, leaning forward, her hands clasped in her lap, her 
 eyes, glowing and mystic in the gloom, fixed upon 
 him. She looked like a sibyl charged with a mes- 
 sage she was constrained to deliver. The spell of the 
 hour and the music had wrought in her a strange 
 exaltation of spirit. 
 
 " Don't call it absurd ! " she entreated. " Because 
 because, somehow I feel the same thing ! " 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " I mean that I feel it about you, Dr. Dale. That 
 march sang itself in my brain, as you sat there by the 
 fire the first morning I met you. I could n't have 
 told you why it came to my mind then. I can't tell 
 now. It seemed your motif. 
 
 " Don't you know how, in the Wagner operas, each 
 character is connected with some strain of music 
 which is his 'motive,' that is, typical of him and 
 of his life?" 
 
 " It is strange ! " mused Dale, falling, like Mrytle, 
 under the spell of unconventionality bred by the 
 hour and its influences. " I wonder if our both feel- 
 ing so has any meaning, or if it is only telepathy 
 or coincidence ! "
 
 ^l^enore 121 
 
 " All three, perhaps," answered the girl. " But that 
 was why I was startled when you asked me to play 
 it. Does music bring pictures to your mind, living 
 pictures, more real when you have your eyes shut 
 and your mind filled with music than anything you 
 ever see when your eyes are open?" 
 
 " Sometimes I think one of the most beautiful 
 things about music is that the same air can conjure 
 up a different picture for every one who hears it 
 Does the 'Lenore' march bring one to you?" 
 
 " Yes ! " lowly and emphatically. " Always the 
 same ! " 
 
 " Tell me what it is." 
 
 His accent was not dictatorial, but neither did it 
 express the faintest doubt of her compliance. 
 
 She had turned back to the piano, and was playing 
 over softly the opening bars of the overture. When 
 she spoke, her voice was as subdued as the music that 
 accompanied it, and fraught with dreamy reminiscence, 
 as if the speaker were trying to recall some half-for- 
 gotten scene, or were spelling out shadowy words in 
 the dim light. 
 
 " When I play this," she said, " I seem to see a 
 narrow, tortuous Italian street, flanked by high gray 
 walls. The summer sun pours down on it, making it 
 glaringly bright, and hot in places, while at other 
 turns the high walls keep off the rays and throw that 
 part of the street into cool gray gloom. 
 
 " Crowds of people line the roadway. Along the 
 middle of it a band of Brothers of the Misericordia 
 is marching to a burial. They wear black robes 
 and masked hoods. On their shoulders they carry a 
 bier. The face of the man on the bier is turned up- 
 ward toward the sun. It is deathly pale, but a cer- 
 tain radiance seems to shine from it, and there is a 
 look of calm and triumph and hope on the worn 
 features. It is like the face of a sleeping god. It
 
 122 Dr. Dale 
 
 bears the marks of struggle and of pain. But both 
 are lost in victory, the victory of death. 
 
 " The bearers carry great torches from which black 
 smoke rises in clouds against the sun. In front is 
 a line of buglers, their trumpets screeching and 
 moaning, and the sound is echoed back deafeningly 
 from the walls until the whole street vibrates with it. 
 In the pauses of the music, as the cortege winds 
 through the gloomier turnings of the street, the air is 
 filled with the loud weeping of a host of broken- 
 hearted women and strong men. 
 
 " The wail of the music and the weeping of the 
 crowd seem to answer each other. Everything is 
 Despair, except the bright calm of that one face on 
 the bier. 
 
 "There!" she said in her usual tone, whirling 
 around on the piano-stool and facing the listener, 
 " is that absurd, too? " 
 
 " No ! " he answered, almost roughly, " you know 
 it is not ! "
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE MEAGLEYS AT HOME 
 " A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man." 
 
 A QUARTETTE of the Meagleys had 
 called upon Miss Bell in state established 
 by Pitvale precedent, and embellished ac- 
 cording to hints of customs prevailing in 
 the outer and larger world, sections of 
 which were brought to the valley by the oil-boom. 
 
 Reminiscent of the pomp and circumstance of the 
 visit, Myrtle donned a Parisian costume when she re- 
 turned it. Lest the foreign smack of the phrase 
 should mislead the reader into dazzling visions, we 
 hasten to add that the gown was of fine black cloth, 
 borrowing distinction from cut and fit and the bor- 
 dering of sable upon skirt and waist. A sealskin 
 sacque was trimmed with the same costly fur, and 
 there was a narrow band of it about the round velvet 
 hat set lightly upon the well-formed head. 
 
 The way to the Meagley house led Myrtle directly 
 by Dr. Dale's office. 
 
 The physician raised his head from his desk just as 
 she passed by on the other side of the street. When 
 opposite she glanced at his windows, as she would 
 have looked over the way in the expectation of catch- 
 ing a glimpse of her brother. Something in the 
 casual action sent a tingle of pain through the heart 
 of the unseen spectator. 
 
 The ease of the girl's bearing was a continual reve- 
 lation to him. Most of the young women he knew 
 notably the Meagleys and their set would have
 
 124 Dr. Dale 
 
 walked on in feigned unconsciousness of the possibil- 
 ity that he might be in his office, while every move- 
 ment showed they were on exhibition, a stage effect 
 of playing to the galleries that deceived nobody. A 
 lower grade of damsels would have loitered purposely, 
 stared broadly, nudged one another, and giggled offen- 
 sively, to attract the notice of the handsomest man 
 in Pitvale. 
 
 Myrtle's swift ingenuous eyes swept the front of 
 the modest building, then looked forward in the direc- 
 tion in which she was going. 
 
 " It is nothing to her whether I am here or not ! " 
 thought Dale, bitterly. " I might as well be watching 
 a star climb the sky ! " 
 
 When she passed beyond the field of observation 
 covered by that particular outlook, he got up, and 
 crossed the hall to the end window of his private 
 office. From this he could see the lithe black figure 
 all the way up the street until she turned in at the 
 Meagleys' gate. 
 
 The fallen family lived in a substantial brick house, 
 separated from the sidewalk by a neat paling and a 
 strip of front-yard. The building was old-fashioned 
 but comfortable. Myrtle had heard the history of the 
 new porch over the front door, and smiled to herself 
 in mounting the steps. 
 
 As everybody in Pitvale knew, the Bowersoxes had 
 given Mrs. Meagley the house, and the munificent 
 salary received by Kate for her services as Miss Fol- 
 ger's companion was delicately designed to cover the 
 running expenses of her mother's household as well 
 as to clothe the middle daughter. When the roof of 
 the old porch sagged and the floor trembled under 
 every step, Mrs. Bowersox, after waiting vainly for 
 some weeks in the hope that Kate would have it re- 
 paired, sent a carpenter to pull it down and put up a 
 new one.
 
 The Meagleys at Home 125 
 
 Not one of the inmates of the building whose portal 
 was barricaded for ten days by scaffolding, timber, 
 and workmen, gave the least sign of consciousness of 
 what was going on. The shutters of the front win- 
 dows had to be kept closed lest the men hammering 
 upon floor, pillars, and roof should look into the chaste 
 interior; the family went in and out of the back door 
 on street-errands and to church, passing the litter on 
 the sidewalk with the same unconcern they displayed 
 to the din of hammer and saw. The porch was 
 finished and the rubbish cleared away one Saturday 
 afternoon. On Sunday morning the front door was 
 unlocked and Mrs. Meagley, with her four daughters, 
 issued therefrom at church-time, walked composedly 
 over the firm flooring and down the broad steps, 
 glossy with new paint, never once glancing at the 
 " improvement." Never then or thereafter, as 
 John Bell assured his sister, had any one of the 
 party so far forgotten what was due to her own and 
 the family dignity as to intimate by word or look her 
 knowledge of the liberty taken with the residence they 
 had honoured their plain but worthy kinswoman-in- 
 law by accepting and occupying. 
 
 It was a representative anecdote which John en- 
 joyed hugely, but which he was discreetly wary in 
 relating. 
 
 Myrtle had time to think it over exhaustively while 
 she awaited the reply to her ring. A third pull at 
 the stiff and she began to fear, the useless wire 
 was answered by a slatternly child of thirteen or four- 
 teen. "Bound girl" was stamped all over her, from 
 frowzled elf-locks and dirty calico frock to ragged 
 shoes. Second-class smartness marked the gaudy oil- 
 cloth of the entry-floor, the tapestry Brussels carpet 
 of the parlour, the "set" of figured plush furniture, 
 hard-red in colour, such as brings to the initiated im- 
 agination the associative odour of bilge-water, dead-
 
 i26 Dr. Dale 
 
 and-gone lodging-house dinners, and the sooty 
 stuffiness of sleeping-cars. Chromes instead of en- 
 gravings, an ornamental air-tight stove in place of the 
 generous cheer of the open chimney, and a profusion 
 of tidies pinned upon backs and arms of chairs and sofa 
 brought to the quick-witted observer the conviction 
 that the Middle Miss Meagley had not cared to re- 
 cast the family tastes according to what she must have 
 learned while living in the elegant luxury of her ben- 
 efactress's home. 
 
 " She is very different from the others," thought 
 Myrtle, and in a second thought queried, " After 
 all, is she?" 
 
 The chill of the frozen fixed air of a room that had 
 not been ventilated for days went to her bones. She 
 tucked her hands well into her muff, and set her teeth 
 to keep them from chattering. 
 
 It was an ugly room, ugly with the vulgarity of 
 Nottingham lace curtains; marble-topped tables; a 
 gray cast of " Coming to the Parson " upon an un- 
 draped stand between the two front windows; on the 
 mantel a French clock under a bell-glass that emitted 
 frosty little ticks, and a clump of lilies in wax-work 
 under another bell-glass and trailing over a round 
 looking-glass, upon a ghastly bare slab of marble set 
 beneath a lean mirror in a gilt frame. The carpet 
 was made up of brick-red roses and yellow tulips, 
 garlanded in the most natural manner possible, upon 
 an azure ground. 
 
 There was no door of communication with the 
 adjoining room, but Myrtle caught the sound of 
 scurrying feet, the sharp sibilations of command and 
 reply, the trundling of furniture, the indubitable 
 indications of clearing up and tucking away incident 
 upon getting ready for company. 
 
 At last an at last fifteen minutes long a door 
 opened and shut, footsteps and a voice were heard in 
 the passage.
 
 "The Meagleys at Home 127 
 
 Carolling as artlessly as a blackbird in spring-time, 
 Miss Harriet Meagley, in a grass-green delaine and 
 scarlet neck-ribbon, strayed casually into the Arctic 
 zone of her well-appointed abode, and came to a tragic 
 dead stop at sight of the figure stranded upon the red- 
 plush sofa. 
 
 " Miss B-e-1-1-1 ! " If the cry and clasping hands 
 had been less artistic, the discount upon her amaze- 
 ment would have been lighter. " When did you 
 come? How long have you been here? This is 
 some more of that wretched girl's work, I am sure. 
 And never to let us know that you were here ! I 
 declare she has let the fire go out, too ! " laying a 
 tentative palm upon the shining stove. " I do hope 
 you have not taken cold ! Won't you come right 
 into the sitting-room? Mother and the girls will be 
 charmed to see you. You '11 excuse all want of cere- 
 mony, I hope ? I positively can't leave you to freeze ! " 
 
 In passing through the hall, she snatched at a card 
 lying on the table ; her tongue clicked smartly against 
 the roof of her mouth. 
 
 " To think of that miserable creature leaving your 
 card there, instead of bringing it in to us? That 's the 
 trouble of young servants ! " 
 
 The shifting of the scene to the sitting-room intro- 
 duced the rest of the cast, en tableau, 
 
 Mrs. Meagley was darning stockings ; Miss Julia 
 was crocheting a purse ; Miss Levina was hemstitch- 
 ing a ruffle ; Miss Emmeline was reading aloud such 
 an interesting story in The Ladies' Home Journal 'that 
 none of them noticed the opening of the door or 
 looked around until Miss Harriet spoke, 
 
 " Mother dear ! Here is Miss Bell ! Do you know, 
 that wretched Nelly," etc., etc., et cetera. 
 
 Amid the clamour of exclamations, apologies, 
 hopes that she had taken no harm from exposure, 
 and objurgations of the small sinner who had let her
 
 128 Dr. Dale 
 
 in for it all, Myrtle kept her head cool enough to 
 reflect amusedly that these people had probably 
 never been to the theatre half-a-dozen times in their 
 united lives. 
 
 Mrs. Meagley's thin whine separated itself from the 
 tangle presently. She was also the first to rally 
 from her surprise sufficiently to be able to resume 
 her work. The skilled needle was diving under and 
 over the knitted meshes while she prosed, her glasses 
 so near the tip of her nose that Myrtle forced her 
 eyes away from watching for their fall. She knew 
 she should scream or laugh when this happened, so 
 unnerved was she by cold and suppressed fun. And 
 here and now, if ever, she must be upon her good 
 behaviour. 
 
 " Miss Bell can't hardly understand, I presume, 
 how impossible it is to procure competent help in this 
 benighted place," said the mother of five, in her best 
 English, the hankering after polysyllables, common 
 to the pretentious illiterate, strong within her. " In 
 the days of our prosperity we was enabled to com- 
 mand a superior quality of domestic assistance. In 
 our reversed condition we must content ourselves 
 with what Providence assignates to us." 
 
 Even the mongrel word did not move the listener 
 to a smile. In a rush of thought she compared the 
 present with the past of the fallen household, and an 
 excess of toleration got hold of her. 
 
 " Please don't apologize for the little mistake that 
 has brought me into your pleasant living-room," she 
 said, gently winning in look and manner. " We shall 
 get acquainted ever so much sooner here than in 
 the drawing-room," her eyes wandering to the sunny 
 windows, the sills of which were filled with potted 
 plants, and ignoring the sewing-machine, the basket 
 of work, covered with a towel, standing beside it, the 
 dingy stove, and dingier furniture. " And won't you
 
 The Meagleys at Home 129 
 
 please me by going on with your pretty fancy-work? " 
 to Julia and Levina. "Mrs. Bowersox was showing 
 me some exquisite work one of you I think she 
 said it was Miss Levina did upon a frock Jeff has 
 outgrown. She keeps it laid away in lavender in her 
 drawer. Jeff says she is keeping it for his little sister." 
 
 Her laugh was not echoed. Miss Emmeline looked 
 down upon the paper in her lap, and rubbed the backs 
 of her bony hands together bashfully, as if the circu- 
 lation were suddenly stopped. Miss Harriet, guile- 
 less, uncertain as to the visitor's meaning, looked the 
 perplexity she did not articulate. Miss Levina 
 blushed muddily. Like her sister Kate, she prided 
 herself upon retaining the power to blush upon 
 seasonable occasions. Miss Julia glanced timidly at 
 her mother. 
 
 That exemplary matron arose to the relief of her 
 innocent offspring. Stern as Judith, relentless as 
 Jael, she jabbed the long needle into the heel of 
 the sock distended by her darning-egg. 
 
 " Sarepty Bowersox has lost what modesty she ever 
 possessed, residing so long and, as one might say, 
 unprotected in that big house with all those men, 
 and others coming and going continual, and no female 
 present to restrain the licentiousness of her conversa- 
 tion. I have with my very own ears " the empha- 
 sis conveying the impression that she hired another 
 pair for every-day use " heard her laugh at what 
 any delicate-minded individual, especially of the 
 female sex, would blush to have her child say. And 
 I will say, as I have said times and places without 
 number, to my husband's sister's face, that it is not 
 decent for her to allow that boy spoiled as he is 
 to make allusions like the allusion you have just 
 alluded to, Miss Bell. As I have told my girls, oncet 
 and again, and they '11 bear me witness, I 'm that ner- 
 vous when either Mr. Bell or Dr. Dale are present, 
 
 9
 
 130 Dr. Dale 
 
 and that child begins to run on, that I don't know 
 which way to look. It 's noways proper, from any 
 p'int of view. I can't sleep o' nights for thinking 
 what 's said and allowed for to be said when there 's 
 nobody there to act as a constraint upon them two. 
 As I said to my brother Jo'chim, years ago, 't was 
 just after Dr. Dale come, ' If you 've got one iotom 
 of infl'ence with that wife o' yourn, you '11 insist upon 
 her having one of my girls to keep her company. 
 There 's Leviny that's got " Sarepty " for her middle 
 name,' says I, ' out of compliment to her, and it 's 
 little has ever come of it,' says I. But there ! Jo'chim 
 Bowersox dassent call his soul his own in that house, 
 three times as big as they need, and we a-squeezed 
 into this rat-hole, as you may say ! " 
 
 The colour had not left Miss Levina's pure but ex- 
 perienced cheek, inured to the inevitable aggregate 
 of blushes attendant upon a thirty years' pilgrimage 
 in the Vale of Spinsterhood. But she espied a glint 
 in Miss Bell's eyes that was not all amusement or 
 kindliness ; a sparkle, as when flint meets steel, shot 
 across the soft brown, usually so clear. 
 
 " Ma ! " interposed the more politic daughter. 
 " You 're disposed to be hard upon Aunt Sarepta. 
 People that talk as much as she does must say out- 
 landish things sometimes. Of course it's rather 
 shocking, the way she talks about not being able to 
 realise Jeff, and lets him run on about " the blush 
 was back with reinforcements " about remote im- 
 probabilities, but Miss Bell would n't notice it as 
 much as we do, after living abroad so long. The 
 English don't mind what they say, I Ve heard, and 
 that their conversation sounds real coarse to refined 
 American ears." 
 
 " It 's all of a piece with their indecent short skirts 
 and big feet and thick shoes," opined Miss Harriet. 
 
 The spark had lit a steady glow by now. Our
 
 The Meagleys at Home 131 
 
 heroine was having her first experience of association 
 upon terms of enforced equality with people innately 
 vulgar, yet presuming, people whom circumstances 
 forbade her to treat as their insolence deserved. 
 
 Incidentally, and not irrelevantly, she registered a 
 vow, before she spoke, that nothing should coerce 
 her into marrying a politician, or beguile her into 
 marrying a clergyman. Altogether relevantly she 
 pitied her brother's wife in posse, 
 
 " I am not a fair judge, perhaps, since my English 
 friends belong to the better classes of society," she 
 rejoined, with admirable self-possession. " I have 
 never met people more refined in word and in deed 
 than they. I must have expressed myself very awk- 
 wardly if I gave you the idea that Mrs. Bowersox is 
 ever indelicate in any way. I am ashamed to use the 
 word in connection with her. As to dear little Jeff, I 
 confess that I am at a loss to see what was wrong in 
 the saying I repeated." 
 
 " Everything depends upon the way a person is 
 raised." Judith's frown was a furrow. Jael was a 
 rock. " In our properous days, when the thought of 
 poverty never entered our thoughts, I paid much atten- 
 tion to the forming of my children's moral manners. 
 They was trained to avoid the appearances of evil, and 
 to put impure thoughts far behind them and to set 
 watches before the door of their lips. My sainted 
 mother was one of the salts of the earth. 
 
 " Poor mother ! little did she dream what reverses 
 was in store for me ! She always used to say to us, 
 her daughters there being five of us as there 's five 
 of mine, and never a son to my name, without it was 
 a still-borner, which is n't supposed to count in the 
 family Bible. It does seem, sometimes, 's if Provi- 
 dence entertained a gredge against some of His 
 children, while others no better, not to say not 
 so good flourishes like green bay-trees.
 
 132 Dr. Dale 
 
 " My sainted mother Julia is called after her 
 she used to lay down law and gospel to us " 
 
 " He won't stay in the kitchen, Mis' Meagley ! " 
 
 The frightened pipe of the bound girl, not unlike the 
 squeal of a hurt rabbit, drew all eyes to the door. 
 
 The father of the five brotherless girls shambled 
 past his foiled guardian, and made for the stove a 
 big Stanley, and red-hot, chafing his gnarled 
 fingers, and drawing wheezing breaths between his 
 few remaining teeth. 
 
 "The fire's 'most out there, Lizy Ann," he said 
 huskily. " And you know Dr. Dale told you, last time 
 he was here, that I mus' be kep' warm, whatever hap- 
 pened. The cold starts up my rheumatiz lively. 
 How do ye do, ma'am?" 
 
 Seeing the stranger at this point of his complaint, 
 he shuffled toward her, and held out his hand. 
 
 " Mr. Meagley, Miss Bell ! Miss Bell, Mr. 
 Meagley ! " said his wife, after the manner of her 
 youth, when people took pains to make strangers 
 acquainted with one another's names. " He 's an 
 invaleed, and we 're obleeged to take the uttermost 
 care of him, on account of the rheumatics being 
 liable to mount to his head. When it does mount 
 he 's very flighty. But harmless ! quite harmless ! 
 Pa ! you 'd better set down in the corner away from 
 the draughts, if you will stay in here." 
 
 But Pa's eyes were fixed upon the face smiling 
 gracious warmth into his numbed heart. He held the 
 gray-gloved hand in both of his wrinkled, veinous, 
 and trembling working it up and down with the 
 action but not the regularity of a pump-handle, 
 mumbling and mouthing his greetings meanwhile. 
 
 " Glad to see you, ma'am ! glad to see you in my 
 house ! Know your brother, ma'am. In p'int of fact, 
 I 'm a member in good 'n' reg'lar standin' in his 
 church the old Oak Hill church. Only, as my
 
 "The Meagleys at Home 133 
 
 wife says, I ain't allowed to attend in the winter, all on 
 account o' my rheumatiz. But she 's all off 'bout that 
 head-business. It's the j'ints and the back what 
 suffers, an" there 's danger of its flyin' to the heart, 
 if I 'm not took good care of, or if I 'm contradicted. 
 
 " Head 's all right ! You ask Dominie Bell what 
 he thinks of Timothy Meagley's headpiece. Similar, 
 ask Dr. Dale. What you say, Lizy Ann ? ' Set 
 in that chimbly cornder?' Not if I know it! I'm 
 a-go'n' to keep Miss Bell's comp'ny for a few minutes, 
 if she '11 let me." 
 
 He made a long, backward arm to drag up a chair, 
 and eased his creaking bones down into it. 
 
 " I shall be happy to talk with you for a little 
 while," said Myrtle, cordially and respectfully. " I 
 must be going home soon. The night comes early 
 now." 
 
 " And it is n't considered the proper thing for a 
 young lady to be out alone after sundown in Pitvale," 
 observed Miss Julia, eager to clip the thread of her 
 father's talk. " There are so many doubtful characters 
 abroad in the evening, now that the town is growing 
 so." 
 
 The imbecile was chewing the mysterious cud of 
 senility ; his gaze still drinking in the graciousness 
 of the fair young face. While he munched, he winked 
 slowly, like a drowsy cat in the firelight. There were 
 livid, pendulous pockets under his eyes. He polished 
 the knobby knuckles of his left hand with the palm 
 of the right, working them round and round with a 
 grinding motion. His shabby clothes were too big 
 for the thin body ; his bald head and scraggy neck 
 projected from between the bent shoulders like a 
 turtle's. 
 
 Myrtle fought down the growing sickness of heart 
 and body. 
 
 " You are very wise to stay in the house and keep
 
 134 Dr. Dale 
 
 warm in this bleak weather," trying to speak as 
 to a normal old man. " I did not expect to find the 
 winters in Pennsylvania so severe." 
 
 It was harder not to shrink from the crooked 
 yellow finger reached out to stroke her muff. 
 
 " Pa ! " ordered his wife, tartly. " Quit that ! Miss 
 Bell will think you have n't no manners whats'ever ! " 
 
 He desisted chucklingly. 
 
 " I 'm an old man, ma'am ! an old man ! and you 
 must n't mind my ways. A pre-w/-urely old man, I 
 may say. Ten year ago I was a well-off farmer, livin' 
 on my own land. In the house my gran'ther built. 
 Not so good a house as this " the bleared eyes 
 sweeping the room. 
 
 " Pa ! Pa ! " this from three daughters in one breath. 
 " How you do run on ! It was a great deal larger 
 and handsomer than this ever thotight of being ! " 
 
 " So you women say ! so you women say ! " a 
 cunning leer creasing a face like rumpled parchment 
 in hue and grain, "/say it was a decent Pennsylvany 
 farmhouse, no better than my neighbours lived in. 
 It's down now. So am I. Water and ile together 
 they done it all ! But," poking the muff im- 
 pressively with two dreadful fingers, " if I could 
 lay these hands onto ten thousand dollars, I 'd be a 
 richer man inside of two months than both the Folgers 
 put together. You don't happen to know where I 
 could put my hand onto ten thousand dollars, do 
 you?" 
 
 " I am afraid not ! " returned Myrtle, regretfully, 
 civil to the last. 
 
 Unable to bear the scene any longer, and sincerely 
 pitying the distress of wife and daughters, she arose 
 to take her leave. 
 
 " Please don't go ! " 
 
 Without making her intention too apparent she 
 stepped back beyond the reach of the hand that
 
 The Meagleys at Home 135 
 
 clutched at her sleeve. The quavering tones thinned 
 into a whimper, 
 
 " I won't say another word about ile if you '11 stay. 
 They'll scold me awful, soon's you're gone. Dr. 
 Dale, he told me t' other day, I 'd better not let my 
 thoughts run too much to ile. 
 
 " But," sinking his voice to a squeaking whisper, 
 and approaching the cunning old face nearer to hers, 
 " I '11 be a rich man yet ! See if I ain't ! I asked the 
 doctor if he could n't lend me the ten thousand. 
 Said he could n't on such short notice. I knowed, 
 from the way he smiled, what he meant. He 's makin' 
 money, the doctor is. And I '11 get that money 
 soon 's he marries my daughter Kate, what 's livin' 
 now off of rich Ruth Folger, and " 
 
 " PA ! " 
 
 The mixed wail and screech drowned the rest of 
 the revelation. The wife from one side, two 
 daughters from the other, laid violent hands upon 
 him, and fairly hauled him out of his chair and to 
 his tottering feet. Mrs. Meagley's company manners 
 and dictionary English went to pieces in the tempest 
 of righteous wrath. 
 
 " You ain't fatten to stay with decent folks ! " she 
 protested, pushing him through the door held open 
 by pale and tearful Levina, and disappearing with 
 him into the kitchen. 
 
 Miss Harriet made a forlorn effort to settle her 
 ruffled plumage. 
 
 " Pa is subject to these queer attacks in cold 
 weather," she began falteringly. 
 
 She collapsed miserably at sight of the genuine 
 womanly compassion in Myrtle's eyes. Throwing 
 herself into a chair, the humbled daughter buried her 
 face in her hands and cried passionately. 
 
 Miss Julia scolded her for " giving way ; " Miss 
 Emmeline wrung her hands helplessly ; Miss Levina
 
 136 Dr. Dale 
 
 poured out a glass of water and held it ungently to 
 the weeper's lips. 
 
 "It's nothing but nervousness!" she explained 
 perfunctorily, to the pitying visitor. " She 's often 
 so! It's too bad we should all have disgraced our- 
 selves before you to-day. I know just what Aunt 
 Sarepta will say. And as for Kate ! " 
 
 A despairing gesture finished the sentence. 
 
 Myrtle was leaning over hysterical Harriet, trying 
 to soothe her by gentle entreaty and soothing words. 
 She lifted her serious face ; her accents and her eyes 
 were full of tender sympathy. 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself about that! I shall never 
 speak to anybody of what has given you so much 
 annoyance. It was nothing, after all. We know 
 that invalids must be humoured. Nobody attaches 
 any importance to their talk. Please say this to 
 Mrs. Meagley, and that I left my regards for her. 
 Good-afternoon ! I shall hope to see you again 
 soon." 
 
 A dog leaped so high in the air that all four feet 
 left the porch-floor as Miss Levina let the caller out 
 of the front door. Forgetful of everything else in 
 the joyful surprise of meeting a true, honest creature 
 who meant all he expressed, Myrtle caught his fore- 
 paws and carried them to her shoulders, laying her 
 cheek upon the white star between the loving eyes. 
 
 " O Beautiful ! my darling ! They promised that 
 you should not follow me ! But I am glad you got 
 away from them ! " 
 
 At Miss Levina's call, her sisters ran into the front 
 parlour, and huddled together at a window to watch 
 mistress and dog through the tawdry sheerness of the 
 Nottingham lace curtains. 
 
 " Such a fuss as she made over him ! " repeated 
 Levina. " Dr. Dale must have given him to her, 
 then ! Kate told me to find out if he had."
 
 The Meagleys at Home 137 
 
 " She holds herself too straight to be graceful," 
 criticised Julia, who affected the obsolete " Grecian 
 bend " in her own carriage. 
 
 " She carries her head up, and steps out exactly 
 like a man," was Miss Levina's stricture. " It may be 
 style, and foreign, but it ain't modest Pennsylvania 
 ways." 
 
 Miss Harriet, her face blubbered with crying, had 
 a weightier matter in mind. 
 
 "What we've got to prepare for is the rumpus 
 Kate will kick up when she hears what Pa said." 
 
 " Maybe she won't hear it. She promised not to 
 tell," suggested an optimistic sister. 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Emmeline Meagley ! Her brother 
 will hear it all before he eats his supper. Dr. Dale 
 will have it before he goes to bed. That vile tease of 
 a Ralph Folger will get hold of it to-morrow. You 
 may be sure he '11 work it for all it 's worth. If you 
 want to make anything out of Kate in the next year, 
 you got to be quick about it." 
 
 Four gloomy faces neared one another over the 
 Stanley stove, after the distrusted stranger and her 
 dog were out of sight. Four noses were blued by 
 the frozen fixed air of the best room ; four pairs of 
 eyes were troubled by the same dreads. 
 
 Off company duty, they discarded frills of senti- 
 ment and language. 
 
 " Kate had better be on the look-out for herself," 
 said Julia. " If that girl sets her cap at Dale, he's a 
 gone case. If ever I saw a born flirt, she 's one."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 " THE SOUL OF A MAN " 
 
 " Though I never may reach the glowing rose 
 That clambers atop the rough-cast wall, 
 
 Yet even for me a warm south wind blows, 
 And petals all flushing with passion throws, 
 
 And I kiss them as they fall. 
 
 Each hour I spend where your dear eyes shine 
 
 Some leaf of the flower of Love is mine." 
 
 RALPH FOLGER'S return and his ex- 
 pressed intention of staying at home for a 
 month, at least, made a stir in every grade 
 of Pitvale society. 
 Speculators and operators were awake to 
 the lively possibilities of what he might do next. 
 That he would do something, and that his " nexts " 
 were sure to be sensational, was an axiom in business 
 circles. Tradespeople furbished up their premises 
 to court the commendation of the townsman who 
 could buy out both sides of Main Street and every 
 crossway without feeling the outlay, and who was 
 known to have a natural interest in the rapid up- 
 springing of the place he had done so much to make. 
 Tenants waited upon him, singly and in family 
 groups, to ask for repairs and privileges. 
 
 As Sandy McAlpin told John Bell, " There was n't 
 a mule in town that was n't better fed and cleaned 
 because the head boss was around, with both eyes 
 open." 
 
 The best circles for such there were in Pitvale, a 
 segregation of the families of resident well-owners, 
 real-estate dealers, four or five doctors, and as many 
 lawyers, with half-a-dozen gentlemanly managers of 
 wells and agents of lands belonging to Eastern
 
 "The Soul of a Man" 139 
 
 capitalists claimed the returned native phenome- 
 non for their own. The social pool formed by these 
 elements was moved to its depths by functions in his 
 honour. 
 
 The hall-mark of Pitvalian gentility was the late 
 dinner, whereat decollete gowns and swallow-tail coats 
 carried out the scheme of high life ; where blue points 
 and salmon, entries and game, met together, sauterne 
 and claret, sherry and champagne kissed each other. 
 In ten houses where butlers were kept (or hired by 
 the night) that number of " course-dinners " was 
 given in a fortnight to the citizen regained ; six 
 receptions were enlivened by his sorrel-red poll and 
 conversational pyrotechnics. 
 
 At the end of that time Myrtle Bell remarked to 
 her brother in Ralph's hearing that she might as well 
 be spending the winter in New York as in this so- 
 called country-town. Society in one place was very 
 much the same as in the other with a few unpictur- 
 esque variations. The concert given by the Bachelors' 
 Club Band in the Club music-room for the benefit of 
 the families of men killed in an explosion of gas in a 
 pump-house, was a refreshing novelty. Her poor 
 people in Pig's Alley and Bankrupts' Lane were far 
 more entertaining than the regulation diner-out in 
 society uniform. 
 
 Ralph, who was pretending to talk with Dr. Dale 
 at the other side of the fireplace, dipped in his oar 
 here, 
 
 " I thought you enjoyed people ! I do ! All sorts, 
 all classes, all colours of my fellow-creatures. When 
 they don't get a rise out of me, I get one out of 
 them." 
 
 " That is fair play, if you make people and puppets 
 interchangeable terms, and cut and thrust the essence 
 of neighbourly duty," retorted the girl. " Sometimes 
 you talk for the sake of seeing what Mr. Ralph Fol-
 
 140 Dr. Dale 
 
 ger can make of a bad cause. This is one of the 
 times." 
 
 Bell and Dale applauded softly. 
 
 John added, " Hear ! hear ! " 
 
 It was the evening of the day on which Myrtle had 
 called upon the Meagleys. He guessed, from her 
 reticence as to the particulars of the visit, that there 
 had been a scene of some sort she felt herself bound 
 in honour to withhold even from him. He guessed, 
 too, that the peculiarities of this set of puppets were 
 in her mind. With all her discretion she was a trans- 
 parent scroll to the big, wise brother. 
 
 She was thoughtful to-night, and somewhat less 
 rosy than was her wont. Ralph had " happened in " 
 to supper, having had a telepathic revelation that 
 Mrs. Bowersox would have waffles and white clover 
 honey to top off the bounteous meal. He always 
 thought of her and honey in the same breath ; he 
 wondered why. 
 
 When he had done full justice in appetite and 
 speech to the delicacies, the four friends adjourned 
 to the Bells' parlour. Myrtle sat down by her work- 
 table, fitted on her thimble, and took up a slip she 
 was trimming with narrow lace, as a christening-gift 
 for a baby who was to be taken to church next 
 Sunday and receive the name of " Myrtle." 
 
 "The mother thinks it 'just too sweet for any- 
 thing,' " remarked the seamstress, in referring to the 
 compliment paid her. " It is a family name with us. 
 It was my grandmother's, in the first place. Then 
 my favourite aunt had it and passed it on to me. 
 She died a few years ago. For her sake, I like it. 
 Not that I think it suits me. In fact, I am not 
 sure I know just what myrtle is." 
 
 " You 're certainly not like the stuff that runs all 
 over graves," said Ralph, " except, perhaps, as it kills 
 out grass and weeds, and is the only thing that will."
 
 "The Soul of a Man' 141 
 
 " That is periwinkle." 
 
 The correction was so sober and apparently so sin- 
 cere that Ralph exclaimed in discomfiture, 
 
 " And I thought I was getting off such a neat 
 thing ! A real impromptu ! I appeal to the company 
 at large if anything could have been more neatly 
 turned." 
 
 " No lathe could have done it better," said Dale. 
 " Have you ever seen the crepe myrtle, Miss Bell? It 
 is a graceful shrub, with dark- green leaves and crinkly 
 flowers of an exquisite shade of pink." 
 
 Everybody laughed. Miss Bell chanced to wear 
 this evening an India silk, one of her favourite pliant 
 fabrics, dark green, plain in the skirt, and lighted 
 in the corsage by a full front of pink chiffon. She 
 laughed with the others, her rising colour paling the 
 pink billows below her chin. 
 
 " Next?" she said, looking at her brother. 
 
 " The classic myrtle was very fragrant," he an- 
 swered readily. " It was sacred to Venus, but use- 
 ful, all the same. Flowers, leaves, and berries were 
 used by perfumers. Wood-turners made various 
 articles from the wood, which was firm, prettily 
 variegated, and susceptible of a beautiful polish." 
 
 The applause came now from Ralph and Dale, 
 the former ejaculating, " And she says the name 
 does n't suit her! " 
 
 " It seems impossible to keep the turning-lathe out 
 of sight," was Myrtle's comment upon the play of 
 compliment. 
 
 She addressed herself demurely to her sewing, 
 while John talked in sub-tones of a parish matter, 
 and Dale and Ralph fell into the like semi-confi- 
 dential chat on their side of the room. 
 
 Neither of the pair lost a look or gesture of the 
 needlewoman upon whom sedateness sat with such 
 bewitching effect. Dale was in the shadow of the
 
 142 Dr. Dale 
 
 jutting chimney, his arm upon a projection of the 
 mantel, his hand overarching his eyes. 
 
 To dwell in Dreamland for a season longer or 
 shorter, as the Fates are benignant or malevolent 
 is the birthright of every man, he had convinced 
 himself weeks before. In defiance of Fate, he had 
 stepped audaciously into the sunshine. In fierce 
 obstinacy, he elected to stay there. A soldier of 
 fortune, so familiar with defeat that victory surprised 
 without elating him, he had mastered the lesson of 
 living by and for the day. He was, as he had schooled 
 himself to believe, a man without a future. There 
 was all the more reason why he should enjoy the 
 present. 
 
 Courteously impassive in manner, he replied to 
 Ralph at the right time, and pertinently, hearing, 
 as a rippling accompaniment to the jerky periods, 
 the mingled absurdity, and sound sense of the little 
 man's disquisitions, the murmur of Myrtle's voice, 
 and watching the rhythmic play of the hand that 
 plied the needle; feasting sight upon her mobile 
 features, the turns of the spirited head that looked 
 coquettish and were as natural as breathing to the 
 dainty thoroughbred. 
 
 " Thoroughbred ! " That was the word oftenest in 
 his mind when with her. Generations of gentlefolk 
 lay behind her. Refinement was instinct, not a study. 
 
 Ralph used his eyes and ears with ingenuous free- 
 dom. When he saw an opportunity to take a hand 
 in what interested him more than a dialogue with 
 Egbert Dale, fine fellow as he was, he seized 
 it, as we have seen, and held it, despite the rebuff 
 that met his opening remark. 
 
 " Give me credit for the good taste of preferring to 
 hear you talk to listening to myself," he said mag- 
 nanimously, " and for good sense in agreeing with 
 you in being bored by parties and things. I had
 
 "The Soul of a Man" 143 
 
 about made up my mind to call a halt before you 
 said that you hated the sight of a dress-coat." 
 
 " I beg your pardon ! On the contrary, I hold the 
 dress-coat to be the crucial test of gentlemanhood. 
 It is a social shibboleth. It is worth while to try each 
 of one's acquaintances by it, at least once." 
 
 " Right you are, as always ! And righter than 
 usual here. I took my first lesson in that line at a 
 New Year's ball I attended in my Sophomore 
 year 
 
 " Does that tilt of the eyebrows mean that you had 
 never suspected me to be a college man? But I am. 
 Or, rather, I was for two years. They dropped me in 
 Columbia (oh, yes! I would be metropolitan, or 
 nothing!) at the beginning of the Junior year. If I 
 recollect rightly, I had forty-three conditions. The 
 prejudiced old fogies who ran the musty knowledge 
 factory thought that amounted to an unconditional 
 failure. 
 
 " I dropped easy, not wisely, but too well. I was 
 as sick of them as they were of me. 
 
 " But that ball ! I had n't been on deck five min- 
 utes when a lady asked me to bring her a glass of 
 water. I did n't catch on to her blunder at once. I 
 saw no reason why a gentleman should n't fetch a 
 glass of water, or any other non-intoxicant, for a 
 thirsty woman in party clothes. But when another 
 did the same thing, and a chaperon said, ' Here, 
 my man ! Bring me one, won't you ? ' the con- 
 founded truth burst upon me like a hand-grenade. 
 
 " I took refuge in a corner of the back-hall while I 
 blew off steam in a few well-selected soliloquial com- 
 ments. Then I had my innings. I got hold of a 
 napkin, threw it over my arm, found tray, glasses, and 
 water in the dining-room, and, equipped with a rich 
 Irish brogue, I played Aquarius for half an hour, 
 pressing this one to ' take a glass, sure, mem,' and
 
 144 Dr. Dale 
 
 assuring that one that he ' looked thot dhry,' making 
 myself a conspicuous nuisance, until a classmate rec- 
 ognised me and threatened to split on me if I did n't 
 drop the curtain. 
 
 "As you say I believe you did say that? a 
 gentleman never looks so much like a gentleman as 
 when he sports a claw-hammer, and the other kind 
 Oh, Lord, why, that'?, what I must be ! " 
 
 A burst of kindly amusement testified to the listen- 
 er's appreciation of the quandary. The self-convicted 
 blunderer lifted the jaw he had dropped in comic dis- 
 may, and went on briskly, 
 
 " The rule holds good, all the same. The Dominie, 
 there, looks like a United States Senator from Massa- 
 chusetts when he gets himself into evening toggery, 
 and Dale would be taken for a prince of the blood 
 anywhere. I 'm not sure just what that means, but 
 you 're IT, old man ! " clapping his friend on the 
 shoulder. " Patrician to the backbone ! I suppose 
 you Ve got your pedigree down fine? I have n't one 
 of my own. Maybe that 's why I have such an insane 
 reverence for people who had great-greater-greatest 
 grandfathers." 
 
 "The founder of my family was a horticulturist, 
 who lost his estate through an unfortunate investment 
 in fruit," said the doctor, with perfect gravity. "An- 
 other ancestor was an eminent navigator who after- 
 ward came down in the world and became a vine- 
 dresser. I do not know from which of these grandees 
 I inherit the becomingness of my dress-coat. I fancy," 
 slowly, " not from the first of the line." 
 
 Ralph stared stupidly from his serious countenance 
 to the laughing faces of the others. 
 
 "What's the gag? Names and dates of the re- 
 spectable parties aforesaid, if you please ! " he de- 
 manded of Dale. 
 
 " Adam, Prince of Eden, and Noah, Duke of
 
 "The Soul of a Man"" 145 
 
 Ararat," rejoined the doctor, without a smile. " Dates 
 somewhat uncertain." 
 
 He pulled himself to his feet by the hand that 
 clutched the projection of the mantel. The lamp- 
 light shone clear upon him, standing at his full, erect 
 height, upon the clean, fine lines of his face, the 
 perfect proportions of figure and limbs. His bearing 
 was distinguished ; his intonations were those of the 
 educated citizen of the world. In quality his voice 
 had the mellowness of the born Southerner ; in accent 
 and inflection, not a trace of the provincial. 
 
 With the quickening of spontaneous admiration 
 with which the woman opposite him took in these 
 details, came an odd sensation, a disagreeable reflec- 
 tion she knew to be the evolution of the nameless dis- 
 comfort which had haunted her since the call of the 
 afternoon. 
 
 " Could there be a germ of truth in what that old 
 man said of Dr. Dale and Kate Meagley ? I cannot 
 match them in my mind. I should be sorry ! On 
 John's account and on his. Of course, for no other 
 reason." 
 
 Yet from that instant she was conscious of regard- 
 ing him from a new standpoint. They were already 
 excellent friends. She met the smile with which he 
 turned to her now with one as cordial and free from 
 embarrassment. 
 
 " If I were my own master, I should delight in sit- 
 ting here and swapping or chopping gen'ealogies 
 with you for three hours to come, Ralph. Miss Bell 
 does n't know it yet, but she is about to put by that 
 baptismal robe, and play, first, my favourite march, 
 then sing my favourite song before I go forth into the 
 great, cruel, wicked, frozen world outside of the 
 Bowersox garden-fence." 
 
 " Definite ! " cried Ralph. " If she were to tackle 
 all my best-loved marches and songs, I would n't
 
 146 Dr. Dale 
 
 go home 'till daylight doth appear.' Not that I'd 
 mind it!" as if struck by a tempting idea. "I'm 
 more comfortable at this particular instant than I 
 shall be until I find myself again in this identical 
 chair, before that identical fire, with the Dominie to 
 help me listen to the music. I tell you, Arcady was 
 a down-town business street by comparison." 
 
 Dale had opened the piano silently. As silently 
 Myrtle seated herself, and began the selection from 
 " Lenore " each had translated for the other the first 
 time she played it for him. 
 
 Strangely enough, it was his interpretation that 
 filled the performer's mind as the music mourned and 
 exulted. 
 
 " The death-song of a soul that has battled against 
 overwhelming odds and has failed ! A soul that 
 has dared to defy Destiny itself and has lost all. A 
 soul not without stain, but without fear. The Soul 
 of a MAN ! " 
 
 As was her habit when playing familiar music in a 
 half-light or in the dark, she shut her eyes, while her 
 fingers evoked the latent harmonies. 
 
 "The death-song of a soul ! " She said it over and 
 over, until a weird fancy possessed her. The soul 
 not without stain, but without fear, freed from mortal 
 trammels, seemed to be beside hers, to speak to her 
 in pealing chords and wooing numbers, to claim 
 kinship, even ownership, in her thoughts, her aspira- 
 tions, her inmost life. And her yielding to the spell 
 was joy, not regret. 
 
 " You never played that better, little girl ! " said 
 her brother's voice from the fire. 
 
 She opened her eyes with a start that shook an 
 alarmed discord from the keys. 
 
 Egbert Dale stood at the end of the instrument, in 
 partial shadow, out of which his eyes shone down 
 upon her.
 
 " The Soul of a Man" 147 
 
 The story was finished then? and with so little 
 volition of hers that she had not known when she 
 passed from one movement to another ! 
 
 " Brava ! " cried Ralph, beating his palms together. 
 " Bis ! encore ! Out of sight ! Arcady be dished ! " 
 
 Myrtle arose with a fluttering laugh. 
 
 " I 'm afraid there is n't enough left of me for your 
 song, Dr. Dale. As I told you once, that march 
 takes hold of me as no other music ever did. I feel 
 as if I had been hypnotised by the composer." 
 
 " Try a change of treatment," suggested Ralph, 
 cheerfully. " Cut Dale adrift and let me stand there 
 while you send ' one clear song the night along.' " 
 
 Dale's gesture kept Folger aloof. 
 
 " She shall not sing a note against her will," he 
 said quietly. And in a lower tone, meant for her 
 ear alone, and yet more gently, " I thank you ! 
 and I beg your pardon. Good-night ! " 
 
 That night Myrtle asked her brother for the first 
 time, 
 
 " What do you know of Dr. Dale's antecedents, 
 John?" 
 
 " Next to nothing so far as particulars go. He 
 told me once without my asking, of course that 
 his mother died when he was a mere baby, and that 
 he lost his father the same year. Also, that his 
 mother was an Englishwoman, and that he had no 
 blood relatives in America. He mentioned, at another 
 time, that one of his ancestors, presumably neither 
 Adam nor Noah," laughing, " was an Italian." 
 
 " That may account for his passion for music. It 
 certainly does for his clear olive complexion. Where 
 did he learn to play on the organ?" 
 
 " He says he ' picked it up.' He certainly did 
 not pick up his university education. I infer more 
 from what he does not say than from anything he ever 
 told me that he had hard lines in his boyhood, and,
 
 148 Dr. Dale 
 
 for the most part, a piteously lonely life altogether. I 
 am satisfied, for my part, with what he is, without 
 inquiring how mind and character were built up." 
 
 Myrtle stitched away silently for some minutes; 
 then, with indifference that seemed sincere, she 
 asked, 
 
 " Have you ever heard his name connected with 
 Miss Kate Meagley's ? " 
 
 John's eyes gleamed quizzically. 
 
 " Put the question in a different form. I have 
 heard his name ' connected ' with that of every mar- 
 riageable woman in our ' best circles/ as, I dare 
 say, he has heard mine. If you mean to ask if he 
 has any intention of offering his fine person and grow- 
 ing income to the Middle Miss Meagley, I can answer 
 decidedly, ' No.' Not that he has ever alluded to 
 the subject. I doubt if the thought ever crossed his 
 mind. Besides " 
 
 If the rest of the sentence framed in his brain had 
 been worded, it would have been, " I have reasons for 
 believing there is another woman in the case." 
 
 " ' Besides '?" prompted his sister, inquiringly. 
 
 " Nothing worth speaking of. A fancy of my own 
 weaving it would be silly to mention. There 's no 
 discount on Dale. He is a remarkable man in every 
 way. A thoroughly good fellow, and worthy of the 
 trust all who know him must put in him. As for 
 me," trying, as the manner of men is, to hide by 
 feigned levity the rising emotion that threatened eyes 
 and articulation, " my ' soul is knit with the soul of 
 Egbert Dale, and I love him as my own soul.' " 
 
 The matter lapsed out of their talk, and not a word 
 had been said of the girl in the Cumberland Moun- 
 tains who had plucked the wounded stranger from 
 the jaws of death and nursed him back to life and 
 health.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AT THE MOATED WELL 
 " The die is cast ! Pray for a miracle ! " 
 
 LIKE the fall of an untimely frost upon 
 peach-blossoms, or of mildew upon beard- 
 ing grain, the announcement that Mr. 
 Folger declined all social engagements for 
 the present descended upon the haut ton of 
 Pitvale, and " shook all their buds of hope from 
 blowing." 
 
 Other beaux there were some of them rather 
 desirable partis, and dancing men not a few, to make 
 existence supportable to the dwellers in the villas that 
 had shot up like mushrooms upon the hills to the 
 south of the town. There were twenty of these 
 hybrid constructions where there was one two years 
 ago, and a dozen more in building. The domes of 
 graperies and conservatories winked at the sun like 
 so many huge glass eyes in the face of the landscape. 
 Oil-reek and coal-smoke were mild inflictions to the 
 denizens of the fashionable precinct; nuisances tem- 
 pered to refined olfactories by prevailing winds that 
 carried smell and smoke in other directions. 
 
 Oil-hunters had, in sporting parlance, drawn the 
 coverts to the southward blank, and here Society 
 bloomed like a rose and disported itself like a youth- 
 ful hart or roe, remote from derrick and furnace shaft. 
 New York gave up her fashions in clothing and equi- 
 pages, and Philadelphia kept not back the choicest 
 products of her celebrated markets. Parties of the
 
 150 Dr. Dale 
 
 Pitvalian tlite fluttered over seas every summer and 
 brought back curios, Parisian toilettes, Dresden china, 
 Venetian laces, and English accents. 
 
 Myrtle Bell, prudently reserving the wickedest 
 things she thought and said for her brother's ears, 
 catechised him as to the probability that the panting, 
 puffing, sweating town might be the predicted child 
 who should be born a hundred years old, so ripe 
 was it in worldly wisdom, so gray in sin. 
 
 But to the travelled lion, returned to his native 
 jungle of derricks and wells, who abruptly turned his 
 back upon complimentary convivialities, and would 
 none of his fellows' festivities. To quote his own 
 words, he had " settled down to the stride of busi- 
 ness, and needed all his time and wits for the per- 
 fection of a scheme that would open the eyes of 
 Pitvale so wide it would not get them shut again 
 this century." 
 
 Hitherto whatsoever he had laid his hand unto had 
 prospered. At his lavish best he could not spend 
 money one tenth as fast as it came into his coffers. 
 He had drawn no coverts blank, nor to change the 
 figure and keep the phrase had he drawn one 
 blank in the mighty lottery, the flanges of whose 
 wheel were typified by the gaunt arms shot heavenward 
 from hill and plain. People began to think that suc- 
 cess had made him mad when it was known that the 
 scheme now in hand was nothing more and nothing 
 less than pushing on the drilling into the bed-rock 
 that had stopped the flow of the well named for his 
 only sister. 
 
 What maggot had the fellow got into the busy 
 brain thatched by his red shock of hair? While 
 "Jumbo," the biggest thing yet sunk, was averag- 
 ing two thousand barrels per day, why waste tens 
 of thousands of dollars upon a venture so unlikely 
 that the parade of sounding and drilling and pump-
 
 At the Moated Well 151 
 
 ing made him the song of the drunkard in the streets 
 his money was paving? 
 
 The song waxed into a howl of derision from drunk 
 and sober, when a hundred imported labourers were 
 marched to the hill topped by the extinct well, and 
 set to digging an immense trench half-way up the 
 declivity. 
 
 " To hold the bulk of the stuff when it begins to 
 flow," said the oil-struck proprietor. " I don't want to 
 swamp all of Pitvale. I'm making arrangements to 
 shut in the well as soon as possible after the rush 
 sets in. But all the king's horses and all the king's 
 men, with a weight of ten-thousand-pound tools on 
 top of all, won't be able to do this at once. This is 
 not a secret find, gentlemen, but just now nobody is 
 in it but myself. On February fourteenth St. 
 Valentine's Day I shall take in a partner. One 
 hundred and fifty quarts of nitro-glycerine will be in 
 it. I 'm inviting every man from every well and 
 every house for ten miles around to come that day 
 and see the fun." 
 
 On the afternoon of the thirteenth he drove his 
 sister, Miss Bell, and, at Ruth's private entreaty, Kate 
 Meagley, in his victoria to inspect his completed 
 preparations. 
 
 The day was as bland as April ; a faint violet haze 
 slept in the dips of the rolling lands ; the smoke 
 mounted in straight black columns from chimney- 
 tops ; the bank of the northern bend of the creek was 
 edged with ochreous tufts of water willows, those 
 sensitive thermometers of spring, faithful sap-levels 
 which are always the first to remind us that no win- 
 ter, whether of nature or of soul, can be eternal. 
 
 Wrapped in her ermine cloak, Ruth Folger lay 
 back in the padded corner of the smoothly rolling 
 carriage, her lily face as serene as the day, smiling 
 into open cottage-doors and windows, waving her
 
 152 Dr. Dale 
 
 hand to children who laughed back in return as she 
 was borne past; exchanging salutations with be- 
 grimed labourers, shirt-sleeved hucksters, and team- 
 sters in overalls. 
 
 " Ruth's constituents ! " said Ralph to Myrtle, in 
 tender teasing. " You know they would have run her 
 for mayor last year, but for fear of hurting my feelings, 
 I being her senior. I would n't take the office, know- 
 ing how the case stood. I would n't hurt Ruthie's feel- 
 ings for all the mayoralties extant, and I knew that 
 at heart she hankered after the office. She is the 
 only person in the universe who believes in me. She 
 is as positive that everything is going off well to- 
 morrow as I am ! " 
 
 His sister's trustful smile was beautiful to see; a 
 flicker of colour wavered across her face. 
 
 "Why shouldn't I be positive? You have never 
 deceived me yet. And since all this work and bustle 
 please you, I enjoy it. If I do suspect, very far 
 down in my soul, that 'The Ruth' would have been 
 left high and dry but for its name, I don't think the 
 less of you for that." 
 
 " She will feel it more than you, if all should not 
 go right to-morrow," said Myrtle, guardedly, feign- 
 ing to be intent upon the spirited horses who cur- 
 veted at a passing truck laden with barrels. 
 
 She was upon the box-seat with Ralph, her back 
 to the others, and, bent upon enjoying the excursion, 
 tried not to feel Kate Meagley's eyes boring into her 
 shoulders and spine. 
 
 " Do you suppose I would have risked that if I 
 hadn't been sure what I was doing?" in the same 
 key. " She begged me sweet, white dove that she 
 is ! to let her put money into the affair. Just to 
 make me think she had faith in it, and to ease the 
 loss a little if loss should come 
 
 " Pshaw ! " with a whizzing snap of his whip that
 
 At the Moated JPell 153 
 
 made the off horse plunge violently. " There are 
 things a fellow cannot trust himself to talk about in 
 broad daylight, even to you ! " 
 
 She was silent ; her face wore the expression of 
 large, cordial friendliness it always had for the brother 
 of the woman she had learned to love very fondly 
 in these weeks of intimate companionship, a look 
 that barred every approach to gallantry more surely 
 than coldness could have done. 
 
 Ruth had engaged her companion in conversation, 
 a continuous murmur that made a tete-a-tete practi- 
 cable. Ralph's courage rose. 
 
 " Sometime," he pursued, his attitude one of lazi- 
 est nonchalance to the observers behind him, " when 
 the fire has burned down to a bed of living coals 
 and the lamp is in the corner, and you have been 
 singing the song I love the best " 
 
 Myrtle laughed saucily into his very eyes, as care- 
 lessly as a child of one third her age would look at 
 him, 
 
 "You must first decide what that is among the 
 dozen you always ask for. You are catholic in your 
 tastes." 
 
 " In songs, perhaps, yes ! In people no ! " 
 
 " Excuse me ! but surely there are Jack and Dr. 
 Dale ! " interposed Myrtle, animatedly. " Standing 
 by that what is it? It looks like a levee with a 
 moat beyond. Have you fortified 'The Ruth'? 
 Those square constructions I suppose they are 
 tanks might pass for the tops of casements or bomb- 
 proofs. Are you seeing it all, Ruth dear?" 
 
 The carriage-road wound about the base of the 
 artificial terrace. John Bell and Dr. Dale hastened 
 down a flight of steps cut in the bank, to assist the 
 ladies to alight. Two men were in waiting with a 
 sedan-chair for Miss Folger. Bell put one foot on 
 the carriage-step and lifted her out with no apparent
 
 154 Dr. Dale 
 
 effort. As dexterously he seated her in the sedan- 
 chair and motioned the would-be bearers to stand 
 back. 
 
 " If you will grant Dr. Dale and myself the honour," 
 he said in his simple direct way, "we will guar- 
 antee you a safe and easy journey. It was a capital 
 notion of Ralph's to provide for your seeing what 
 wonderful things he has been doing for your name- 
 sake." 
 
 " I 'm afraid you '11 find me heavy by the time you 
 have climbed the steps ! " deprecated Ruth. 
 
 " A butterfly is a heavy weight ! " returned her 
 brother. 
 
 He placed himself directly behind the chair, a 
 hand ready to steady it, should it careen to either 
 side. Nothing ever diverted his watchful devotion 
 from her. Myrtle forgot, for the moment, at whose 
 side she was walking, in the sincerity of her esteem 
 for one she refused to regard in the light of an 
 admirer. 
 
 " He is a model brother ! " she said in honest 
 warmth. 
 
 " That is certainly one recommendation," rejoined 
 the Middle Miss Meagley, smoothly, offensively, and 
 unanswerably. 
 
 She was past-mistress of the combination. 
 
 " She could not be more disagreeable if I had 
 broken my promise to her sisters ! " thought Myrtle, 
 irefully. " She tempts me to wish I had ! " 
 
 She ran up the steps, brushing by sedan and 
 bearers, and was ready to greet the party from the 
 edge of the moat when the chair was set down. 
 
 " You can't think what a picture you all made as 
 I looked down upon you," she cried. " I thought 
 of St. Catharine, borne up cloudy steeps by angels, 
 and Pilgrim's Progress, and going up the crater of 
 Vesuvius, and a dozen other divinely incongruous
 
 At the Moated Well 155 
 
 things. Now Mr. Folger is going to play Mr. Inter- 
 preter, and tell us what everything means. I think 
 this must be the Hill Difficulty." 
 
 She would not be put down by Kate Meagley or 
 any other being only human and very feminine, 
 she said " Cat! " plainly to herself. 
 
 There was much to tell, and Ralph was only too 
 happy to be spokesman. The moat was a trench, 
 twenty feet deep and as wide, lined on the sides and 
 bottom with thick planks, joined so closely as not to 
 show a seam. It encompassed the hill, which was 
 graded down from the summit to the inner side of 
 the moat. 
 
 " To give the oil an easy fall into it," said the pro- 
 jector. " I wish now that I had made it fifty feet 
 deep and forty wide. It will be running over by to- 
 morrow night, although I have piped it down to that 
 tank you see below, and chartered two trains to take 
 it away as fast as the portable tanks on the cars can 
 be filled. 
 
 " You see my calculations are based upon a cer- 
 tainty. ' The Ruth ' is a two-storied concern. We 
 found everything O. K. in the first well we struck. 
 When that was dry, I drilled through a second series, 
 bed-rock, first and second sand, and then came to 
 what the fools about here called 'bed-rock' again. 
 It is third sand ! but in the shape of pebble-rock, the 
 hardest we ever struck, like pudding-rock; a sort of 
 conglomerate packed hard by some kind of a rumpus 
 of the lower powers, maybe a million years ago. 
 Under that I know there is oil ! To-morrow every- 
 body else will know it ! M 
 
 He rushed it off in a torrent of energy that took 
 his breath with it and silenced the auditors. 
 
 Ruth gazed at him with love-full eyes ; the warm 
 pallor of her complexion enhanced by the red of 
 the parted lips.
 
 156 . Dr. Dale 
 
 John Bell walked away a few steps, and seemed to 
 look down into the moat. 
 
 " It hurts me to see her ! " he said, aside to Dr. 
 Dale. " This is sheer madness, but the bursting of 
 the bubble will almost break her heart. I don't see 
 what has got into the fellow lately ! " 
 
 Dale's answer was a mute shake of the head. In 
 his heart he thought that he knew. The age of 
 derring-do was not over. Ralph Folger was a Knight 
 of To-day. 
 
 The knight had removed his hat while he declaimed, 
 now pacing the edge of the embankment, now cross- 
 ing to the thither side on one of the slight bridges 
 spanning the moat in several places. 
 
 "Just like a little red ant!" Kate Meagley told 
 her family afterwards. 
 
 Had the simile occurred to any other member of 
 the party, Ruth excepted, the aptness of it would not 
 have been denied. 
 
 " I have sunk fifty thousand dollars in this hill 
 since She went dry," the dreamer declared. " Inside 
 of a week fifty thousand barrels of oil will repay me 
 principal and interest, and leave a fair profit. It's 
 like tapping the Bank of England ! " 
 
 At which precise juncture Kate Meagley sat down 
 suddenly upon a convenient stone she had already 
 seen was clean and dry and not jagged, and sank her 
 face upon her knees with a heart-rending moan. 
 
 Ruth partly raised herself from her chair and gave 
 a little cry. Her hands were outstretched toward the 
 weeping daughter thus confronted by her family 
 skeleton; her trembling lips and suffused eyes be- 
 spoke divinest pity. 
 
 " Hang it all ! " muttered Ralph, gnawing the side 
 of his thumb. "When sensibilities are like that, 
 people ought to use cocoaine !" 
 
 Myrtle and Dale, being nearest to him, turned aside
 
 At the Moated Well 157 
 
 simultaneously to hide their smiles. John Bell went 
 straight up to Miss Meagley, and inquired, like a 
 humane Christian, if he could do anything to help 
 her. 
 
 She rallied with praiseworthy heroism at his voice. 
 A couple of strenuous swallows downed the hysterics ; 
 a couple of mops with her handkerchief removed 
 the tear-marks. She staggered in regaining her feet, 
 and John took an honest, businesslike hold of her 
 arm. 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! " appropriately humble. " I 
 am terribly ashamed of my weakness. But it came 
 over me in a rush and surprised me. I am not often 
 so foolish. Dear Ruth ! " a dry sob escaping her, as 
 she knelt by the sedan-chair, " you will forgive me, 
 I know ! " 
 
 The unwilling spectators moved away in different 
 directions by a common impulse not to intrude upon 
 the scene which was imminent. Ralph grasped John's 
 elbow and walked him off around an angle of the 
 hill. Dr. Dale and Myrtle strayed, purposelessly, 
 out of ear-shot, and, still without purpose, stopped to 
 stare down into the yawning trench. 
 
 It was an awkward moment. Delicacy forbade 
 discussion of what had just happened. It would be 
 in bad taste to speak out the growing conviction in 
 the mind of each that, of all the mad freaks of pro- 
 spectors, speculators, and money-makers generally, 
 which this small quarter of the globe had seen of 
 late years, what they were now looking upon was 
 the most insane. For the afternoon they were the 
 fanatic's guests. He was their friend, and Ruth 
 Folger's brother. 
 
 The scent of freshly planed lumber, clean, sweet, 
 and cool, overcame, for the time, the volatile pun- 
 gency of crude oil. 
 
 Myrtle inhaled it gratefully.
 
 158 Dr. Dale 
 
 " It is like a message from the woods," she said. 
 " I could shut my eyes and believe myself in the 
 Adirondacks or in a Maine logging-camp." 
 
 " I hate it! " said Dale, passionately. 
 
 The girl glanced at him in amazement. His face 
 was literally darkened ; his eyes flamed ; the lower 
 lip was caught under teeth that bit it white. He 
 threw his arms out in a gesture of abhorrence or 
 defiance, or both. 
 
 " Great Heavens ! how I hate it ! " he repeated 
 hoarsely. 
 
 Turning on his heel, he walked past the angle where 
 John and Ralph had disappeared. 
 
 Myrtle stood, confounded, where he had left her. 
 Her sheltered life, under the guardianship of an 
 indulgent, amiable uncle, and of the brother who 
 would have bitten his tongue in two sooner than 
 speak roughly to a woman, had given her tittle 
 opportunity of knowing anything practically of the 
 savage element dominant or rampant in every man. 
 She had spoken flippantly of Vesuvius just now. 
 Had the crater gaped at her feet, she could not have 
 been more astounded. It swam through her mind, 
 hazily, that John had said something of this man's 
 Italian ancestry. Did that account for the outbreak? 
 
 " Will you let me beg your pardon, Miss Bell? " 
 
 He was by her, again master of himself and gravely 
 courteous, the graver for regret that he had offended 
 her. More courteous he could not be. 
 
 " It is asking great things of you. I cannot com- 
 plain if you never speak to me again. Apology is 
 not worth much when explanation does not go with 
 it; and I cannot explain what made me forget my- 
 self and what is due to you. I can but say that I am 
 sorry; sorrier than I have ever made myself before 
 since I have known you." 
 
 Myrtle's displeasure, however righteous, never out-
 
 At the Moated Well 159 
 
 lived the first breath of penitence. The warmth of 
 her ungloved palm was upon his half-extended hand 
 before he ceased to speak ; the sunshine of her 
 cordial eyes was shed into his soul. 
 
 " Don't say anything more about it ! " she said 
 heartily. " I have too many tender spots in my own 
 memory not to sympathise with other people when 
 they wince at a chance touch. 
 
 " Ah, Jack ! " forestalling the possibility of misin- 
 terpretation of her attitude as he and Ralph came 
 around the corner, " Dr. Dale and I are shaking 
 hands upon a compact we don't mean to confide to 
 anybody else just now. Don't you think we would 
 better be going? The sun is setting." 
 
 Ralph was quiet, for him, in the homeward drive, 
 and his companion on the box seat did not obtrude 
 herself upon his thoughtful mood. 
 
 An odd depression bore down her own spirits. 
 She had had a jar that jostled her thoughts out of 
 plumb and unstrung her nerves. Laugh the incident 
 off as she might, in recollection it was an event of 
 moment; the revelation of a man swept beyond the 
 hold of self-control by the veriest trifle. She did not 
 respect him less, but she felt less acquainted with 
 him. 
 
 "The Ruth" and "Jumbo" were upon sister- 
 eminences to the north of Pitvale proper. The 
 Folgers had macadamised the direct route leading 
 from these wells to the lower town, and thence diverg- 
 ing to the railway, a mile away. After bowling 
 briskly along this main road for fifteen minutes, the 
 carriage turned into an avenue, skilfully graded, as 
 smooth as a floor, and lined with young elms. It led 
 to the gate of the Folger grounds, and had been 
 constructed with express reference to Ruth's infirmity. 
 
 She had told Myrtle, in one of their confidential 
 talks, that she never drove over it without thinking
 
 160 Dr. Dale 
 
 how much Ralph's tender care of her was like that of 
 the angels who will not let one of the Father's children 
 " touch his foot against a pebble." 
 
 " Mr. Bell says that is the correct reading of the 
 text in the original," she added. 
 
 A groom stood at the horses' heads while the 
 master of the lordly house sprang down to lift his 
 sister out. 
 
 Before she let him take her, she leaned forward to 
 kiss Myrtle, 
 
 " We will call by for you at ten o'clock to-morrow, 
 dear. The blast is to be at eleven. And you will 
 not forget that you are all three to dine with us in 
 the evening to make merry over Ralph's triumph." 
 
 Myrtle put her arms about her impulsively, 
 
 " We forget nothing that concerns you, dear Ruth ! 
 Good-by ! Don't let to-morrow's excitement keep 
 you awake to-night. You must be in your best looks 
 as the Queen of the day." 
 
 Kate Meagley had her farewell word, uttered while 
 Ralph carried his sister up the steps and into the hall 
 with ease that told the strength of his wiry frame. 
 
 So grateful for your tact and your forbearance, 
 this afternoon ! " she cooed, the baby-stare piteous 
 and insolent. " It was so delicate and sweet in you 
 to lure all the men out of sight ! None of them would 
 have understood just how I felt, except, perhaps, 
 Dr. Dale. His intuitions are really womanly, when 
 he is at liberty to exercise them. I can always 
 depend upon him. Good-by ! " 
 
 She went up the steps of the veranda as Ralph ran 
 down. 
 
 He had skirted the business streets and was driv- 
 ing into the country-road toward the Bowersox house 
 before he faced Myrtle to ask, 
 
 " Would you mind telling me what you are think- 
 ing about at this precise instant?"
 
 At the Moated Well 161 
 
 The girl flushed scarlet. 
 
 " I can't think of anything I should mind more ! " 
 she said bluntly. 
 
 At that precise instant she was saying to the con- 
 fidential, dtshabillt self with whom one never assumes 
 prudish airs, 
 
 " The very nastiest creature in all God's universe 
 of nature is a spiteful woman ! " 
 
 "May I guess?" persisted Ralph, scanning the 
 blushing face with merciless eyes. " Will you tell 
 me if I am right? " 
 
 She laughed outright at the suggestion. 
 
 "I will honestly !" 
 
 " Then," slowly, never removing his gaze from 
 the amused countenance, " you are thinking of the 
 wager you and Dr. Dale were shaking hands upon, 
 this afternoon, the bet as to the outcome of to- 
 morrow's experiment." 
 
 " Mr. Folger ! " her face ablaze with indignation, 
 "how dare you say such a thing? How can you 
 think it? Whatever maybe your opinion of me, you 
 might know that Dr. Dale is incapable of making 
 light of what means so much to you and to Ruth. 
 Have you no faith in your friends? " 
 
 " I trust you ! " He lifted his hat, and bowed pro- 
 foundly. " Try to forgive me ! I 'm afraid all this 
 fuss and fury has rattled me a bit, after all. Forget 
 what I thought, please. I '11 never imagine another 
 thing of you that is n't four-square, white, and super- 
 angelic. And I say, Miss Bell ! " speaking fast, for 
 they were at the gate, and reddening furiously over 
 face and neck, " would you mind saying one little 
 prayer just a little one for a cent, you know to- 
 night for ' The Ruth ' and - incidentally, you know 
 for Me?" 
 
 ii
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 "THE RUTH" SPEAKS 
 
 " Enslaved, illogical, elate, 
 He greets th' embarrassed gods ; nor fears 
 
 To grasp the iron hand of Fate, 
 And match with Destiny for beers." 
 
 1 
 
 great day, big with fate for Ralph 
 Folger and " The Ruth," dawned fair and 
 dry. 
 
 By sunrise the handsome flag given 
 by Ruth Folger to The Bachelors' Club 
 floated straight out in a southerly wind, and trails of 
 bunting were looped from window to window across 
 the facade of the building. 
 
 From the tall flagstaff in the grounds of the Folger 
 house a graceful pennon streamed above the Stars 
 and Stripes, in answering salute to the Club ensign. 
 Up and down the main street of the town, that looked 
 like a city to-day, shops and dwellings bourgeoned 
 with the national colours. Folger Court, a cul de sac 
 at the end of a side-street, was composed of model 
 cottages, built by Ruth Folger, and rented at low 
 rates to families where there were children. " No 
 childless couples need apply," was the inflexible law, 
 according to Ralph's story. An excess of olive- 
 plants was recommendation, not objection. 
 
 The Court occupied a space equal to nine city 
 blocks, three on each of the three sides. A small 
 park faced by the houses had a fountain in the centre. 
 Each cottage had its own front and back yard. At 
 this season the windows were bright with house- 
 plants. To-day an American flag flew from each
 
 "The Ruth" Speaks 163 
 
 porch ; some of the picket-fences were wreathed with 
 evergreens. 
 
 At the junction of the boulevard, leading from the 
 Folger place, with the principal highway, the opera- 
 tives in the wells owned by brother and sister had 
 constructed, over-night, as a surprise to their em- 
 ployers, a triumphal arch of evergreens. Upon the 
 keystone the initials R. & R. were emblazoned in 
 gilt. 
 
 By eight o'clock every thoroughfare was alive with 
 men, women, and children, in holiday attire. When 
 two of the Folger carriages the first containing 
 Ruth, Myrtle Bell, Kate Meagley, and, by Ralph's 
 especial invitation, Mrs. Bowersox and Jeff, Beautiful 
 sitting upon the box by the coachman ; the second 
 driven by the master, John Bell and Dr. Dale on the 
 back seat passed The Bachelors' Club, and so by 
 way of the lower town in the direction of the twin 
 northern hills, sidewalks, windows, and even roofs 
 were packed with people who cheered lustily for 
 Ralph, for Ruth, for the Dominie and the Doctor. 
 
 " Three cheers an' a toiger for Misthress Folger 
 as is to be ! " vociferated a burly Irishman from a 
 block in the shadow of the arch. " An' before iver 
 we open another big well, may there be another 
 letther alongside o' thim two ! " pointing to the inter- 
 twined initials. " Hip ! hip ! hurrah ! " 
 
 Myrtle had chosen to ride with her back to the 
 horses. Innocently unaware of the meaning made 
 apparent to her companions by tossing handkerchiefs, 
 hands, caps, and laughing stares directed at the 
 ladies' carriage, she nodded smilingly at her brother 
 just as Ralph arose to his feet, the reins in the hook 
 of his arm, and swung his hat right and left, his head 
 like a danger beacon in the sunlight, his face one 
 beam of gratification. 
 
 " If you persist in looking so enticing, Miss Bell,
 
 164 Dr. Dale 
 
 we shall have them taking the horses out and drag- 
 ging us the rest of the way by men-power," remarked 
 Kate Meagley, honeyedly. " Dear Ruth ! I should 
 think you would not envy the Queen her Jubilee ! " 
 
 " I do not, when I think what a tribute all this is 
 to him ! " 
 
 She looked serenely and supremely contented, 
 calm of nerve and of heart. 
 
 " The impersonation of perfect faith that casteth 
 out fear," thought Myrtle, with a heart-ache. She 
 was armoured by disinterested solicitude for her 
 friend against Miss Meagley's pointed innuendo. 
 " Could I believe as implicitly in any man's judg- 
 ment? Her love dignifies even him." 
 
 A cordon of amateur policemen fenced the multi- 
 tude within safe bounds when the scene of prospec- 
 tive action was reached. For a radius of many rods 
 about the base of the moated hill, the ground was 
 cleared of every living creature except the workmen, 
 who had their orders to retire when a cannon should 
 be fired from a platform erected near the " Jumbo " 
 derrick. 
 
 Throwing the reins to a groom, Ralph sprang to 
 the ground, bowed cheerily to the ladies in the other 
 carriage, and, the crowd parting respectfully to let 
 them pass, set off, attended by Bell and Dr. Dale, for 
 a last and rapid round of the works. 
 
 " It 's tempting Providence ! " sighed Mrs. Bower- 
 sox, clutching Jeff, who was standing on the seat for 
 a better view, while with the other hand she pointed 
 to the top of the new steel tank, where two tall figures 
 and one short were silhouetted blackly against the pale 
 sky. " Suppose that hundred or was it a thousand 
 gallons of nitry-glycerine or is it dynomite? 
 should go off while they are there, there 's no saying 
 what would happen to them, poor dears ! " 
 
 Myrtle shuddered involuntarily. Kate Meagley
 
 "The Ruth" Speaks 165 
 
 said, " Don't talk nonsense, Aunt Sarepta ! " Ruth 
 smiled, and patted the dear woman's knee. 
 
 " It can't go off until Ralph gives the word, you 
 know. He has looked to everything himself, even 
 the most minute details. The new tank will not be 
 injured by the explosion. It is not near enough to 
 the well that is to be opened. Ralph is to fire the 
 cannon with his own hand. 
 
 " There ! he is shaking hands with the others ! 
 That means he is sending them away and they are 
 wishing him good luck. Now the workmen are 
 running down the hill. Sandy McAlpin, John 
 Crosby, Carl Nolting, and three other men will stay 
 with him. Sandy has asked to be allowed to shut in 
 the well with his own hands. If you will take my 
 field-glass, Mrs. Bowersox, you will see the cap and 
 the weighted tools lying, all ready, on the ground near 
 the cannon platform. Nothing has been forgotten." 
 
 Her breath was quicker; the hand holding the 
 glass shook slightly, but her eyes were cloudless, her 
 smile was unchanged. Her excitement was born of 
 suspense, not anxiety. 
 
 An awful stillness descended upon the crowds 
 standing close as wheat-stalks in a field, in road, in 
 common, and on house-tops. Boys had climbed 
 trees and posts ; men balanced themselves upon 
 fences. All eyes were directed to one spot; hun- 
 dreds held their breath as one man, when a solitary 
 figure, bareheaded, appeared upon the platform, 
 raised one arm skyward, as if in invocation, then 
 touched the cannon. 
 
 Quick upon flash and thunder followed an explo- 
 sion that shook the earth. A jet of water, perhaps 
 twenty feet in height, was thrown up from the mouth 
 of the well, and sank back, and there was a great calm. 
 
 Blank dismay nobody had words or disposition to 
 express, sat upon every countenance.
 
 166 Dr. Dale 
 
 A boy cried out, " Hi ! is that all there is of it? " 
 and the man next to him struck him on the mouth. 
 
 Then Jeff Bowersox, having mounted to the box- 
 seat where the coachman anchored him by a grip 
 upon the seat of his trousers, Beautiful, sitting up- 
 right from his haunches, bracing him on the other 
 side, remarked in his most agreeably patronising 
 tone, glancing around for sympathy and approval, 
 
 " How very amoosing ! " 
 
 A woman of the town, in soiled finery, who had 
 pushed herself to the side of the carriage quite under 
 Ruth's elbow, set up a cracked laugh at the child's 
 words, repeating them shrilly. 
 
 The laugh caught and spread like the detonations 
 of a pack of damp fire-crackers, until the throng was 
 rocking and reeling in a convulsive roar. 
 
 Above it rang out a voice all knew for that of the 
 man who stood erect upon the seat of Ralph Folger's 
 drag, his eyes blazing upon them, his hand raised 
 threateningly. 
 
 " For shame ! Shame upon you all ! " shouted John 
 Bell with the full strength of his mighty lungs ; and 
 Egbert Dale at his side, like a trumpet blare, 
 
 " You are a pack of ungrateful hounds ! " 
 
 All this in less time than it would take one to write 
 three lines of this true happening. 
 
 Then a second column shot through the floor of 
 the derrick, half-way to the top, black as tar, mud, 
 sand, stones, the fragments of dynamite cans, 
 through the pitchy column, a lurid greenish stream 
 that reached the apex of the tower, and, before the 
 spectators could exclaim, like seven thunders utter- 
 ing their voices, a tremendous volume of gas, im- 
 prisoned from the foundation of the world, tore its 
 way upward, enveloping derrick and tank, and hiding 
 the light of day from the eyes of the awestricken 
 beholders below the hill.
 
 "The Ruth" Speaks 167 
 
 Another minute, and it had cleared away, reveal- 
 ing a perpendicular shaft that glowed like burnished 
 gold in the sun. Eighty feet high it mounted, curl- 
 ing, as it struck the crown-pulley at the top of the 
 derrick, and shivering into amber spray, raining 
 down upon the slopes on every side of the well. 
 With the shout of a mountain-torrent it rushed up, 
 a solid pillar of rock-oil, to break and flow Pac- 
 tolus swollen into Amazon into the prepared moat. 
 
 The commotion that ensued is not to be described 
 in written language. The air was darkened by hats, 
 caps, handkerchiefs, canes, and shawls tossed high 
 above the heads of men and women in the intoxi- 
 cation of delight. The bellow from human throats 
 arose above the shout of the geyser. Men cast them- 
 selves upon one another's necks, weeping and laugh- 
 ing; the piercing hurrahs of women's and boys' voices 
 cut the body of sound like knives ; terrified babies 
 screamed ; a cordon of police wedged itself between 
 the base of the hill and the excited masses that tried 
 to press nearer to the moat. Beyond all, the graded 
 eminence arose like a gilded dome, so continuous 
 and lustrous was the rush of oil into the vast trench 
 prepared to receive it. 
 
 A lusty groom clung to the nose of each of the 
 plunging horses attached to Miss Folger's carriage ; 
 the coachman let go of Jeff to haul upon his reins ; 
 the boy lurched backward, grazed Kate Meagley's 
 bonnet in his descent, and landed, upside down, in his 
 mother's lap. 
 
 " Very neatly done ! " said Dr. Dale, from the car- 
 riage-step, seizing the flourishing heels, and dexter- 
 ously righting their proprietor. " Could n't have 
 been better ! " 
 
 John Bell was at the other side of the carriage, 
 shaking hands with Ruth, his face aglow with con- 
 gratulation, his eyes shining moistily.
 
 i68 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Your trust in him is justified," he said in her ear. 
 " It is the most magnificent thing I ever saw. And 
 he is a genius ! " 
 
 Her composure was sublime ; her eyes were wells 
 of light; pure joy and devout gratitude made her 
 face as it were the face of an angel. 
 
 " Thank you ! " with a low, happy laugh. " Would 
 it be possible to send a message to him? " 
 
 " I will take it ! I promised to go up to him as 
 soon as the work was done. What shall I give him 
 beside your love? " 
 
 " Say that he would not let me share the expense, 
 but he cannot keep me from having nine tenths of 
 the triumph ; that I was never so happy before, and 
 can never be happier again, and that I said, God 
 bless him, now and forever ! That is all. Take 
 care of yourself. The crowd is frightful ! " 
 
 " Dale will stay with you. Not that there is any 
 danger to you, or to anybody else. People are too 
 happy to be troublesome." 
 
 He had held her hand all this time, and pressed it 
 as he let it go, after a last long look into her face. 
 He carried the luminous purity of it in his mind all 
 the way to the platform where the field-piece was 
 posted. 
 
 It was not a time there for the delivery of love- 
 messages. Sandy McAlpin and six picked men had 
 waded knee-deep in the rolling tide up the slope to 
 the derrick of " The Ruth." John noted, with the 
 double set of senses developed by intense excitement, 
 that the immense flag hoisted early in the day upon 
 the top of the derrick drooped against the staff, 
 darkly saturated with oil-spray. 
 
 Ralph was issuing orders from the platform, as to a 
 storming party, making a speaking-trumpet of his 
 hands. Excess of vitality and the hill-breeze lifted 
 his hair into a ludicrous likeness to the dummy-head
 
 "The Ruth" Speaks 169 
 
 stuck upon the pole of a battery in a lecture-room 
 to illustrate the effect of the electric current. The 
 conceit tickled John's fancy. When he put his hand 
 on the dummy's shoulder, he almost expected to re- 
 ceive a shock. 
 
 " Bravo ! old man ! " he began, when Ralph 
 jumped a foot into the air; his shout was a groan, 
 
 " By Jove ! he 's down ! It 's that infernal gas ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 AT DINNER WITH THE FOLGERS 
 
 " When Love is a Game of Three, 
 One heart can win but pain ; 
 While two between them share the joy 
 That all had hoped to gain. 
 And one, in its bitter sadness, 
 Smiles on, lest the others see ; 
 But two, in their new-found gladness, 
 Forget 't is a Game of Three." 
 
 RALPH FOLGER read the sequel of the 
 morning's work in the Extra Evening 
 Edition of The Private Olio, while he 
 awaited the coming of his guests that 
 evening. 
 
 Well groomed and natty in his dinner-jacket, 
 preferred to a dress-coat because, he said, it " made 
 him look less like a Delmonico waiter," he stood, 
 straight as a pin, in a pair of irreproachable patent- 
 leather shoes, one hand in his pocket, and read the 
 " story " to his sister. 
 
 He handled the sheet gingerly with the tips of his 
 fingers. The printer's ink was damp; the paper 
 smelled of oil-gas. So did all Pitvale on that 
 memorable day. Even the patrician colony on the 
 southern hills was fain to close windows and doors, 
 and breathe shallowly to abate the nuisance until 
 the worst of it should be over. 
 
 As the man who was richer by many thousands of 
 dollars than he had been ten hours earlier, read, he 
 interpolated at will and at length, 
 
 " ' The Power-house, a mile-and-a-half down the 
 creek, presided over by Mr. Alexander McAlpine,
 
 At Dinner with the Folgers 171 
 
 affectionately known through the length and breadth 
 of the valley as " Big Sandy " has been compelled to 
 extinguish its fires for the afternoon and night on 
 account of the gas generated by what is literally a 
 deluge of oil. 
 
 " ' Mr. McAlpin, to whom was assigned the proud 
 duty of putting the cap of " The Ruth " in place, 
 nearly paid for his temerity with his life. Endeav- 
 ouring to get the tools into the well, he was over- 
 come by the gas, and fell under the bull-wheels. 
 He was rescued immediately by his brave com- 
 panions, Messrs. John Crosby and Carl Netting, 
 and Drs. Dale and Kruger ' 
 
 (" Much that ass Kruger had to do with him after 
 Dale got there ! Sandy hates Kruger like poison. 
 Says he was the death of Sandy's old mother, year 
 before last. Treated her for colic when she had 
 pneumonia.) 
 
 " ' Drs. Dale and Kruger were summoned. He was 
 taken to The Bachelors' Club, of which he is a 
 prominent member, in Mr. Folger's trap, which was 
 in waiting for that gentleman, and remained uncon- 
 scious for two hours, but subsequently recovered 
 fully, and insisted upon returning to the scene of 
 action.' 
 
 (" Maybe Sandy was n't as mad as a fellow can get, 
 and hope to save his soul, when he heard what doings 
 he had missed ! He 's a game one, is Sandy ! Scotch 
 woodcock !) 
 
 " 'After Mr. McAlpin was removed from the neigh- 
 bourhood of" The Ruth," several other plucky fellows 
 volunteered to undertake the herculean job of shut- 
 ting in the largest well ever struck in the oil-region.' 
 
 (" Or that ever will be struck while grass grows 
 and water and oil run !) 
 
 " ' The packer for the oil-saver was tied on the 
 bull-wheel shaft, the tools were placed over the hole,
 
 172 Dr. Dale 
 
 and run in. But the pressure of the solid stream of 
 oil' 
 
 (" Solid ! I should say so ! Solid as adamant !) 
 
 " ' against it prevented it from going lower, even 
 with the suspended weight of the two-thousand-pound 
 tools.' 
 
 ("That's as near as these newspaper fools ever get 
 to the truth ! There were three thousand pounds for 
 the first trial.) 
 
 " ' One thousand pounds' additional weight were 
 added before the cap was fitted and the well closed. 
 A casing-connection and tubing-lines connect " The 
 Ruth " with immense tanks at the railway depot. It 
 is said that these tanks are already filled, and the 
 gigantic reservoir is still but half emptied. But for 
 the prophetic foresight ' 
 
 (" There 's tautology for you !) 
 
 " ' and superhuman energy of Pitvale's most 
 multi-millionaire, in providing for this incredible 
 volume of petroleum, this fair valley would ere now 
 have been inundated, and one of the most thriving 
 towns in Pennsylvania destroyed by the very agency 
 that called her into being. 
 
 " ' It is roughly estimated that the production will 
 be ten thousand barrels the first twenty-four hours. 
 
 " ' Thus ended the grandest scene ever witnessed 
 in Oildom. When the barren rock, as if smitten by 
 the rod of Moses, poured forth its torrent of oil, it 
 was such a magnificent and awful sight that no 
 painter's brush or poet's pen could do it justice.' " 1 
 
 Ralph Folger let the Extra drop from his finger- 
 tips into the fire, and watched it writhe in the flame 
 for a second, then take a flying leap up the chimney, 
 before he faced his sister. 
 
 " With all its buncombe and bosh, there is a grain 
 of truth in that account. There 's more than a grain 
 
 1 See J. J. McLaurin's Sketches in Crude Oil.
 
 At Dinner with the Folgers 173 
 
 of satisfaction in having demonstrated that I am not 
 as big a fool as I look, and as my neighbours took 
 me to be." 
 
 He threw himself into a chair by Ruth, and put a 
 hand almost as small as hers, but hairy and 
 freckled where hers was satin-smooth and white 
 against the cheek that met it lovingly. 
 
 " Now we won't have another syllable of shoppy- 
 talk to-night, Ruthie. I have wallowed in oil until I 
 am sick, body and soul. Or, maybe it 's my 
 heart that's nauseated. Anyhow I taste and smell 
 and exhale and think Oil ! I took a borax and 
 rosewater bath, then a Turkish bath, an hour 
 ago, and thought of you and another glorious 
 woman all the time, and I can't get rid of the 
 reek!" 
 
 " It is the reaction, darling boy ! You will be all 
 right to-morrow. But you shall not be worried by 
 what Myrtle calls ' oleaginous technicalities ' any 
 more this evening. I '11 conceal my pride in you, 
 and let you suspect the love alone. 
 
 " It is the old story of Bruce bursting into tears at 
 the source of the Nile, and saying, 'Is this all?' 
 Still, if Mrs. Hemans does moralise over his depres- 
 sion, which was n't really disappointment, but a trick 
 of the nerves, and if we are given to quoting 
 
 ' O Happiness ! how far we flee 
 Thine own sweet paths in search of thee ! ' 
 
 the truth remains that Bruce would n't have torn out 
 that page of experience from his life if he could, and 
 that you will never regret your splendid enterprise. 
 
 "To-morrow we'll talk of some of the beautiful 
 things you can do with money. Now ! " 
 
 A pretty flourish of the hands dismissed the subject. 
 
 Ralph captured both of them, and kissed, first one, 
 then the other, with brotherly fervour.
 
 174 Dr. Dale 
 
 The Bells and Dr. Dale, entering from the hall, 
 and Kate Meagley from the conservatory, saw the 
 action and paused instinctively. 
 
 " Come in ! come in ! " called Ralph, jumping 
 up. " If I Ve done anything to be sorry for, I 'm glad 
 of it ! If a fellow can't kiss his own sister, what fel- 
 low's sister can he kiss, I'd like to know? " 
 
 " That remains to be proved ! " said John Bell, 
 na'fvely. 
 
 His paternal attitude toward his sister was con- 
 sistent, even to his obtuseness to other men's admira- 
 tion of, and possible designs upon her. 
 
 A throaty gurgle, full of meaning, came from Kate 
 Meagley. In greeting the guests she gave her hand 
 first to Myrtle, still quivering all over with sup- 
 pressed merriment. 
 
 " Excuse me ! " she said, under cover of salutations 
 which Ralph made voluble. " But the simplicity of 
 the average brother is too delicious ! I am almost 
 reconciled to the fact that I never had one ! " 
 
 Myrtle felt the colour beat hotly in her cheeks. 
 
 " It is well to reconcile oneself to the inevitable," 
 she answered audibly, sweeping on to the seat 
 vacated by Ralph in her favour. 
 
 The slightly contemptuous cadence and hardly 
 perceptible backward motion of her head made 
 Ralph eye her keenly, then glance at Kate with 
 shrewd divination of the by-play that would have 
 amazed the actors. Miss Meagley was as shrewd as he, 
 but neither suspected to what he owed the increased 
 graciousness of the smile with which his arm was 
 accepted when dinner was served, or that Miss Bell 
 inclined a more indulgent ear to his table-talk be- 
 cause of the hot sting to maidenly delicacy inflicted 
 by the woman she began to dislike more than any- 
 thing else in the world. 
 
 By an ingenious contrivance of a folding-leaf pro-
 
 At Dinner with the Folgers 175 
 
 jecting over her knees, Ruth was able to preside at 
 her own table. John Bell was at her right hand, Kate 
 Meagley at her left, where Dr. Dale should naturally 
 have been placed had not Ralph's wishes controlled 
 his sister's arrangements. She knew that he did not 
 affect her companion's society, and that he was fond 
 of Dr. Dale. Thus it came about that Myrtle sat 
 next to a man who, she knew, admired her, and 
 opposite one whose interest in her she could not 
 ignore. 
 
 A greater contrast to the tumult of the forenoon 
 than was presented at the evening meal could not 
 be imagined. The light of wax candles, grouped in 
 silver candelabra, was tempered by pink shades ; a 
 bank of palest pink roses filled the centre of the 
 table, exactly matching the shade of Myrtle's crfyon 
 gown. 
 
 " Was it an inspiration? " queried Ralph, directing 
 notice to the coincidence. 
 
 " If so, it was Ruth's, not mine ! She asked me 
 to wear it. I am thankful not to have introduced a 
 discord into the opus" 
 
 " If the roses had been crepe myrtle, we should 
 have had unison instead of harmony," remarked Dr. 
 Dale, in quiet significance lost upon Kate Meagley, 
 while it sent a wave of deeper rose to the cheeks of 
 his vis-a-vis. 
 
 She was looking her best to-night. Her shoulders 
 rose, fair and firm, from her pink corsage ; the finely 
 moulded arms were partially veiled to the elbows 
 by a fall of cobwebby lace. The sophisticated host 
 could have told the cost of the filmy stuff to a guinea. 
 Kate Meagley's envious calculation undershot the 
 figure. 
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley was not looking amiss 
 in blue silk, a recent birthday gift from Ruth. The 
 deep satisfaction of sitting next the man she loved the
 
 176 Dr. Dale 
 
 more because she loved herself so well, mitigated her 
 stare, cleared and coloured her skin, unbent her lips, 
 and almost lowered the arch of her eyebrows. When 
 Dr. Dale inclined his fine head to catch her rounded 
 tones and his eyes answered hers in mirthful and in 
 earnest glance, she could afford to let the obnoxious 
 foreigner play what cards she chose for the great 
 catch of Northwestern Pennsylvania. She detested 
 Ralph Folger as much as she feared him. He was 
 not a marrying man. There was, therefore, no real 
 danger lest the vigorous flirtation he was carrying 
 on with John Bell's sister under the reverend gentle- 
 man's unseeing eyes would bring forth other fruit 
 than temporary diversion for him and chagrin for the 
 lady. 
 
 Kate saw, in the vivacity of the battledore and 
 shuttlecock compliment and repartee that kept their 
 end of the board lively, the pastime of an idle hour 
 on his side. She was maliciously willing to have the 
 other party to the game work out the punishment of 
 her presumption. 
 
 John Bell's full tones and the responses of Ruth's 
 gentle voice in carrying on such personal talk as is 
 practicable in a small company where each couple 
 has an individual interest in the topic that engages 
 thought and tongue, established the even balance of 
 masculine and feminine voices. Butler and footman, 
 shod in shoes of silence, glided behind the chairs of 
 hosts and guests, changing plates, handing dishes, 
 and replenishing glasses with never a clink or tinkle. 
 
 Myrtle Bell loved luxury every whit as well as 
 Miss Folger's paid dependant, and had a truer appre- 
 ciation of the beautiful and artistic. She also had a 
 sober knowledge of the gay and wicked world the 
 provincial schemer had not had an opportunity to 
 acquire. After making prudent and liberal allow- 
 ances for the deceptive ways of men in general, and
 
 At Dinner with the Folgers 177 
 
 rich young men in particular, she was aware that she 
 had but to hold out the taper third finger of her left 
 hand to have the most costly diamond ring money 
 could buy fitted to it as the precursor of the plain 
 gold band that would seal her ownership of wealth 
 beyond the dreams of avarice. 
 
 She was not tempted in spirit, however fondly 
 imagination may have hovered above the suggestion. 
 
 " Nice, if unencumbered ! " said the judicial sub- 
 jective nature whose mission, psychologists tell us, is 
 to preserve each of us from himself or from herself. 
 
 Queerly interjected athwart her musings was the 
 vision of old Meagley, wrinkled and palsied, the 
 bleared eyes lustful for his neighbour's goods. 
 
 " He done it ! " 
 
 She caught, affrighted, at the words before they 
 quite left her lips. Had the gas she had seen rush 
 up a monstrous afrite from the lower deeps, that 
 day, to spread through the upper world, affected her 
 brain? 
 
 She glanced nervously around the table. 
 
 John was bending toward Ruth, eyes, ears, and 
 thoughts engrossed by that marvel of white radiance. 
 Kate Meagley was talking low and rapidly to Dr. 
 Dale, whose eyes were fixed upon a flushed rose he 
 had picked up from the cloth. He was listening so 
 intently that he spared no thought for aught beside 
 what the other said. It was not a social pretence, 
 but genuine absorption of interest which awoke the 
 man all along the line of nerve and action. 
 
 With an unaccountable qualm, Myrtle's startled 
 eyes left the animated speaker and rapt listener, for 
 the little man whom Oil had made great, and was 
 making greater each minute while he feasted with his 
 friends. 
 
 His hair was absurdly red in the faint rose-light; 
 his face was unbecomingly florid, although he had
 
 178 Dr. Dale 
 
 not touched one of the white, amber, and ruby glasses 
 flanking his plate ; he was talking fast and flippantly. 
 With all her liking for him, her hearty appreciation 
 of his worth and abilities ; in the face of her womanly 
 hankering after the thousand solid goods wealth can 
 buy, and nothing else can procure, her head was 
 cool enough to reckon up pros and cons and strike a 
 balance. 
 
 " A princely estate, but the master would be an 
 encumbrance," thought this sapient young person. 
 " I will put the whole matter out of my mind. He 
 liked me in Italy, but he let me pass out of his life 
 for a whole year. He will soon get over this more 
 serious fancy. For Ruth's sake, I must see that it 
 goes no further." 
 
 In comfortable ignorance of the fact that his fate 
 had been decided, Ralph led the way to the smoking- 
 room when the ladies had left the table. 
 
 It was fitted up after his own whim, like a large tent, 
 or pavilion. Hangings of Persian stuffs fell from 
 cornice to floor, rounded the corners, and were shirred 
 to the centre of the ceiling. The pavilion was lighted 
 by a hanging lamp of wrought twisted iron from 
 Siena ; low tables and lounging-chairs were clustered 
 near the fireplace. Not a picture or book was to be 
 seen. 
 
 " I don't admit so much as a newspaper," said the 
 auburn-haired sybarite, when the three had settled 
 themselves to their satisfaction. " A smoke should be 
 a sedative, Latin root, sedatio, " the act of calm- 
 ing." I looked it up in the dictionary. Hence this 
 spurt of erudition. There are lots of other synonyms, 
 but that is enough for me. I take refuge in my tent 
 for the one, only, and express purpose of being 
 calmed. 
 
 " As his pal said of Dick Fanshawe, I 'will have 
 peace if I have to lick every damned galoot in the
 
 At Dinner with the Folgers 179 
 
 valley to get it ! ' Newspapers are exciting and 
 provocative of profanity. Books that are calming 
 are stupid reading, and stupid things irritate me. 
 Pictures set me to thinking when they are worth 
 having, and what good comes of thinking when 
 the day's work is done? What does it all amount 
 to? 
 
 " I say, Dale, you quoted some verses to me, when 
 we were mooning here one night, that have plagued 
 me ever since. They swim through my head just 
 when I want to think of something else or not 
 to think at all, which is a deuced sight better. 
 Something about a 'moving row'?" 
 
 Dale took his cigar from his lips to recite the lines. 
 
 " We are no other than a moving row 
 Of magic shadow-shapes that come and go 
 Round with this sun-illumined lantern held 
 In midnight, by the Master of the show. 
 
 " Impotent pieces of the game He plays, 
 Upon this checker-board of nights and days ; 
 Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, 
 And one by one back in the closet lays. 
 
 " The ball no question makes of ayes or noes, 
 But right or left, as strikes the player, goes ; 
 And HE that tossed you down into the field, 
 HE knows about it all HE knows HE knows ! " 
 
 The syllables slipped slowly and musically from 
 the speaker's tongue. He seemed to caress each as 
 it passed. The beautiful iron-gray head was nobly 
 defined against the leaf-brown satin of the chair- 
 back; the lids were lowered over the slumbrous eyes. 
 He raised his cigar again to his mouth, and there 
 was reposeful stillness in the luxurious retreat. 
 From the remote music-room an occasional bar of 
 dreamy music melted into the silence. 
 
 Then John Bell's deep voice thrilled out, sweet, 
 solemn, confident,
 
 i8o Dr. Dale 
 
 " Yes ! HE knows ! Blessed be His holy Name 
 for this one hope of a suffering world ! The ' mov- 
 ing row ' marches at His orders." 
 
 " And when one of the ' impotent pieces ' is left 
 to itself ? " said Dale, suggestively. 
 
 He looked too indolent for argument, but John 
 took up the gauntlet. 
 
 " It is never ' left.' Sometimes it mutinies. Then 
 it must take the consequences of its transgression. 
 Even then the rescuing hand is never far away ; the 
 Father-heart yearns over the wanderer. 
 
 ' I know not where His islands lift 
 
 Their fronded palms in air ; 
 I only know I cannot drift 
 Beyond His love and care.' 
 
 That is the best sedative, Ralph ! As much better 
 than not thinking as immortality is better than 
 annihilation." 
 
 " When a fellow has it, Dominie ! What 's that? " 
 turning his head sharply toward the door. 
 
 A muffled scraping and shuffling was going on 
 in the hall ; a thud jarred the panels, as if a heavy 
 body were pushed against them. 
 
 Ralph walked across the room and pulled the 
 door open. Arthur, the decorous, pitched heavily 
 over the threshold. Apparently he had been bar- 
 ring the intruder's entrance with his determined 
 body. 
 
 As he dropped, the Rev. C. Mather Welsh stepped 
 over him, planting one heel upon the tail of the foot- 
 man's dress-coat, the other upon a lappel. Before 
 the fallen picket could turn, or try to rise, the 
 shrunken figure of old Meagley followed his leader, 
 caught his toe in Arthur's watch-chain, and measured 
 his inconsiderable length upon the carpet.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 SOCIALISM AND SONG 
 
 " I am told them callest thyself a King. Know, if thou art one, 
 that the poor have rights ; and Power, in all its pride, is less than 
 Justice." 
 
 JOHN BELL and Dr. Dale sprang forward to- 
 gether to lift the fallen man. The shock had 
 driven the breath out of his lungs. The young 
 men put him into a chair, where he lay, choking 
 and coughing, stretching out twitching hands 
 like one drowning. 
 
 " Get a glass of brandy for him, Arthur ! " ordered 
 the master of the house from his post of observation 
 on the hearth-rug. 
 
 "No! no! fellow! not brandy, in God's name!" 
 interposed Welsh, crossing the servant's path to the 
 door. 
 
 " I have none of that brand," rejoined Ralph, 
 " being opposed to profanity in any form. A nip of 
 Cognac or old Monongahela would bring him around 
 sooner than anything else. But I don't insist upon 
 a waste of good liquor." 
 
 He knotted his hands behind his back, and eyed 
 the process of restoration with calm unconcern. 
 After beckoning up the footman, and enjoining him 
 not to let the ladies know that the two men were in 
 the house, he kept the rdle of an observer who had 
 neither part nor lot in the matter. 
 
 When Mr. Meagley's eyes ceased to bulge, his 
 trembling hands no longer plucked agonisedly at his 
 throat, and his respiration became nearly normal, 
 Welsh took a chair by him, depositing his hat upon 
 the floor.
 
 1 82 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Ah ! beg pardon ! " said Ralph, coolly, " I was 
 taken aback by your unexpected appearance, and 
 the manner thereof, and it did not occur to me to 
 invite you to sit down. If you can state the object 
 of your visit more comfortably and, ah compactly 
 sitting than you could standing up, or stepping 
 over, you are welcome to a chair. 
 
 " I had given my servant whom, by the way, I 
 never call ' fellow ' in any circumstances orders not 
 to admit any one this evening, being engaged with 
 friends of my own choosing. Naturally I was not 
 prepared, any more than he was, for your pushing 
 yourself into society. Perhaps, as my time is valu- 
 able, you would not mind proceeding at once to 
 business." 
 
 The careless tone was exchanged in the last sen- 
 tence for the curt speech of a man of affairs. He 
 meant business, and had done with badinage. 
 
 The plucky parson met him upon the prepared 
 ground. 
 
 " I am as little disposed to squander time as you 
 can be, sir. I am here on behalf of an unfortunate 
 man whose claims upon this community are every 
 whit as strong as your own. Mr. Meagley sank 
 wells, and got no oil ; you sank the same number of 
 wells, and found oil in such quantities that it promises 
 to make you the richest man in the State. He is old 
 and infirm; you are young and strong. He is 
 poor; you are rich and increased in goods. He has 
 worked harder than you, his morals are unim- 
 peachable ; he has been economical where you have 
 been extravagant ; he has a large family to support ; 
 you are a bachelor, whose only sister is wealthy in 
 her own right. By what law, human or divine, do 
 you claim to be the better man of the two? " 
 
 "The comparison is of your own making," retorted 
 Ralph. " Answer the question to suit yourself."
 
 Socialism and Song 183 
 
 The reply was brushed aside as if it were a gnat. 
 
 " Mr. Meagley, sir, has heard of the great increase 
 of wealth likely to accrue to the Folger estate from 
 the events of to-day. He came to me to-night, se- 
 cretly, for fear of opposition from his family, and 
 asked me to draw up a paper, setting forth what I 
 have just said, and memorialising you to allow him 
 a reasonable percentage upon every gallon of oil 
 drawn from the well reopened this forenoon. He 
 waives his claims upon the proceeds of other wells. It 
 is not right, in the sight of the Maker of heaven and 
 earth, that one man should have an income far ex- 
 ceeding his needs, while his brother starves. The 
 earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof. It be- 
 longs to one of His creatures as much as to another. 
 
 " I said when we had conversed awhile, ' Go 
 with me to Mr. Folger's house, and plead your right- 
 eous cause with him, face to face, as man with his 
 fellowman. I am well acquainted with Ruth Fol- 
 ger ' ' 
 
 " Drop that ! " cut in Ralph, sharply. " Don't 
 mention her again ! Stick to business ! " 
 
 " As you will ! My proposition, as I have stated, 
 is that you should make some amends to a worthy, 
 industrious, upright, high-minded gentleman " 
 
 "Meaning him?" Ralph nodded toward the ab- 
 ject figure, wiping his eyes with a blue cotton hand- 
 kerchief, and snivelling appreciation of the eloquence 
 of his counsel. 
 
 " I refer, sir, to Timothy Meagley, Esq. ! He is, 
 I repeat, an honourable, upright Christian gentleman. 
 If justice were meted out to him by his fellow-citizens 
 and the laws they make, he would to-night be living 
 in as fine a house as this, and have an income equal 
 to yours. Who hath made you to differ? " 
 
 " If that 's a conundrum, I may remark that levity 
 is out of place in such transactions," said Ralph.
 
 184 Dr. Dale 
 
 As before, the gnat was unnoticed. C. Mather 
 Welsh's hobby had the bit between his teeth. He 
 was more hortatory with each period. 
 
 " Allow me to say just here, Mr. Folger, that he 
 represents hundreds of others who have sunk their 
 earthly all in what has enriched you. I take leave, 
 moreover, to point out to you the obvious propri- 
 ety, the sacred duty, of dividing with these your 
 brethren according to the flesh your brothers in all 
 but good fortune the surplus riches you cannot 
 spend, even in such riotous living as I see illustrated 
 here," describing an expressive arc with a rhetor- 
 ical hand. " For bear in mind, sir, that you have 
 gotten this great wealth, not by right, nor by might, 
 but by " 
 
 Ralph gesticulated in his turn, 
 
 " I do hope," deprecatingly, " that you are not 
 going to make more profane allusions ! I really have 
 scruples on that point. And my friend, Mr. Bell, as 
 a clergyman shares my views." 
 
 John stepped forward. 
 
 " Don't you think we have had enough of this, 
 Ralph?" he said with dignity. "You will confer a 
 favour upon me by listening quietly to Mr. Welsh 
 until he has said all he came to say. 
 
 " Before you go on, however, Mr. Welsh," turning 
 to the orator, who was on his feet, stuttering in- 
 articulately, " it is but right for me to remind you 
 of what you must have heard, and more than once. 
 Mr. Folger has already done all that could be done, 
 in reason and humanity, for Mr. Meagley and his 
 family. Mrs. Meagley and her daughters would 
 have hindered him from making this application, be- 
 cause they know what are his obligations to Mr. and 
 to Miss Folger. Ask them yourself, if you doubt 
 my word ! " 
 
 Old Meagley shuffled between the two clergymen,
 
 Socialism and Song 185 
 
 kneading the blue handkerchief with both hands, 
 grimacing and shivering. 
 
 " Don't you do nothing o' the kind, Mr. Welsh ! " 
 he piped anxiously. " They Ve all been sot ag'inst 
 me by this man what 's got rich by stealing my ideas 
 and putting of 'em to his own wicked uses. As to 
 what he 's allowed me in part payment of what he 's 
 made out of me, what's one hundred dollars a 
 month? What's two hundred dollars a month, es- 
 pecially when it comes through the women's hands? 
 What 's even three hundred dollars a month, to what 
 ought to be mine this minute? Hard cash, in my 
 own hands, to do what I please with, every cent of it ! 
 
 " Ask Dr. Dale, there, if I did n't tell him, last 
 week, that Ralph Folger ought to give me ten thou- 
 sand dollars, cash down, to start me again in the 
 world? Talk about your Ruths and your Jumbos! 
 I 'd show you a trick worth two of both of them, if 
 I could lay my hand on that cool ten thousand. Dr. 
 Dale as good as said he 'd let me have it, but for 
 circumstances. He 's like a son to me, Dr. Dale is. 
 
 " Don't be scared, doctor ! " showing discoloured 
 fangs and bluish gums in a grin, meaningless to the 
 lookers-on. " I ain't going to give you away" for 
 Dale had him by the arm and was looking sternly 
 into his eyes. " You need n't be afraid I '11 let the 
 cat out o' th' bag." 
 
 " I am afraid of nothing ! " said Dale, calmly im- 
 pressive, " except that you will be ill to-morrow 
 after all this excitement Mr. Folger will order a 
 carriage to take you home. I am going with you. 
 Mrs. Meagley will miss you, and be uneasy. I 
 can slip you in at the back-door without letting her 
 know that you have been out. We will set Mr. 
 Welsh down at his door on the way. I take it, he 
 has nothing more to say to Mr. Folger. 
 
 " Mr. Folger ! the ladies will be wondering where
 
 i86 Dr. Dale 
 
 we are all this time. Will you and Mr. Bell go to the 
 drawing-room, and say that I am called out upon 
 professional business? I will stay with these gentle- 
 men, one of whom is my patient, until the carriage 
 is ready." 
 
 " Do you imagine, for the fraction of a second, 
 sir, that I would so far demean myself as to accept 
 a seat in any conveyance belonging to that Extor- 
 tioner, that Robber-of-Widows' Houses ! " burst out 
 the poor man's friend, fairly frothing at the mouth 
 and shaking his fist at Ralph, as he turned from the 
 door where he was giving an order to Arthur. " I 
 shall go as I came ! I shake the dust of my feet off 
 upon this wicked house " 
 
 Bell pulled Ralph away with him before the fulmi- 
 nation was finished, shutting the door as they went. 
 
 " That poor devil of a Meagley ought to be put 
 into an asylum," said Ralph in the hall. " He '11 
 do mischief some day, if his family don't look out. 
 The poor duffer would be welcome to twice ten 
 thousand dollars, if it would put his brains back 
 where they belong." 
 
 As they entered the drawing-room they heard the 
 front door close with a concussion that shook the 
 windows. 
 
 Fifteen minutes later, a close carriage drew up at 
 a side-entrance, and Dr. Dale, leading his patient, - 
 now whimpering out his dread lest Lizy Ann should 
 discover his delinquency, got into it with him. 
 
 Kate Meagley looked up brightly, when he re- 
 appeared in the drawing-room, less than an hour 
 after his excuse was delivered. 
 
 She was having a stupid interlude to what had 
 promised to be a brilliant evening. John Bell was 
 talking with Ruth, presumably upon matters con- 
 nected with the blue " Inasmuch " book lying un- 
 opened at her side.
 
 Socialism and Song 187 
 
 Myrtle and Ralph were seated by a table covered 
 with foreign photographs, mainly of places they had 
 visited together. They had invited Kate, civilly, 
 to join them. 
 
 " Thanks ! " she said sweetly. " I do not need any 
 more temptations than I now have to break the 
 Tenth Commandment. I and my work-basket will 
 keep one another company." 
 
 The basket a wicker-stand, beruffled and be- 
 ribboned was set where Dr. Dale must halt or 
 stumble over it on his way through the room. She 
 added to her glance of welcome a touch to a chair 
 near by. 
 
 " I will detain you but a minute," sotto voce. "I 
 have recalled something else that may interest you." 
 
 Myrtle saw neither glance nor gesture. She did 
 see that the confidential relations of the dinner-table 
 were resumed, apparently as much to the gratification 
 of one as of the other. She could not raise her eyes 
 from the photographs without seeing reflected in the 
 mirror opposite a tableau vivant singularly unpleas- 
 ing to her. Kate's work lay neglected upon her lap ; 
 as she talked, she leaned over the gay little work- 
 stand, the gold thimble tipping one white finger a 
 glancing spark of light in the energy of her narra- 
 tive. Dr. Dale's face was not a foot away from hers. 
 His dark eyes questioned ; hers, wide and earnest, 
 replied. 
 
 Ralph may have fancied that his companion was 
 wearying of travel-talk. He may have bethought 
 himself that Dale was having more than his due 
 share of Meagleys for one evening. He accosted 
 him without apology for the interruption, 
 
 " Dale ! is it moulting-season? " 
 
 " That depends upon the species," rejoined the 
 other, nonchalantly, with no symptom of surprise at 
 the query.
 
 i88 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Genus, human. Species, Dale," said Ralph, as 
 readily. " I have n't heard you sing since I got home. 
 Are you waiting for a bluebird accompaniment? " 
 
 "Does he sing?" exclaimed Myrtle, unthinkingly. 
 
 She set her teeth in the tip of the incautious tongue, 
 as Kate took up the word, 
 
 " Is it possible that you have never heard him in 
 all the weeks you have been in the same house? I 
 supposed, now you have a piano, you had music 
 every evening." 
 
 " We do ! " replied Dale, quietly emphatic. " That 
 is the reason I have not offered to sing." 
 
 " We don't ! " said ungallant Ralph, oblivious of 
 Miss Meagley's much practising, to which he could 
 not have shut his ears on the evenings he passed 
 with his sister. " That's the reason you are going to 
 sing now." 
 
 The music-room opened, through a curtained 
 alcove, into the larger apartment in which they were 
 sitting. Piano and performer were plainly visible to 
 the group that drew nearer together as the keys 
 awoke under a prelude played by powerful practised 
 fingers. It was simple, a few rich chords linked 
 by snatches of a plaintive melody that found full 
 expression in a song not one of the auditors had 
 ever heard, 
 
 The stagnant pool lies dark and still 
 
 Beneath the inky cloud ; 
 The night-fogs settle, dark and chill, 
 
 About me like a shroud. 
 The wind wails low, the witch-fires glow 
 
 Athwart the black lagoon ; 
 From sedge-choked glen and lowland fen 
 
 Rank vapours blur the moon. 
 
 I crawl 'mid slime and rotting ooze, 
 
 In marshy brakes I hide; 
 But one dread Face I cannot lose, 
 
 One Ghost creeps at my side.
 
 Socialism and Song 189 
 
 Weird night-birds fly with eerie cry, 
 
 Circling around my head, 
 While onward glides, nor quits my side, 
 
 The Memory of the Dead. 
 
 The black bat flits through branches bare, 
 
 Against the starless skies, 
 Through swamp-reek, on the fetid air 
 
 The frogs' rough croakings rise. 
 By witch-fires' light throughout the night, 
 
 I roam the marshy shore ; 
 While creeps with me that Memory 
 
 To leave me Nevermore ! 
 
 The words were perhaps turgid rather than tragic, 
 but the air wild, at times almost discordant, 
 breathing fear of death, dread of the unearthly, 
 lent the song a fascination not its own. The pure 
 articulation and apt emphasis rendered the meaning 
 forcefully. 
 
 For a moment after the last chord died away, 
 nobody spoke. The flexible voice and marvellous 
 technique impressed the listeners even less than did 
 the dramatic, sympathetic quality that underlay it. 
 It was not a song for a drawing-room, or for the 
 casual auditor of parlour music. A mail-clad Visigoth 
 at a village prayer-meeting would have been as much 
 in keeping with his environment. To applaud would 
 be a solecism. No one thought of conventional 
 compliment. The musician was as mute as the 
 auditors. Without rising, he passed his fingers so 
 lightly over the keys as to awaken but faint breaths 
 of sound, like almost spent echoes. 
 
 Ralph Folger broke the weird spell, drawing in his 
 breath between his teeth as one who dives into cold 
 water, 
 
 " I say, old chap ! don't do that sort of thing again ! 
 It gives one the horrors ! " 
 
 "You didn't like it, then?" Dale arose and
 
 190 Dr. Dale 
 
 sauntered back through the arch. Strange light 
 one might have thought of triumph shone in 
 the deep eyes, but he spoke carelessly. " I 'm 
 sorry you were not amused by my well-meant 
 efforts." 
 
 " Amused ! Heavens, man ! Is that your idea of 
 amusement ? One might as well be amused by a 
 thunderstorm in the Alps, or moved to giggle by a 
 small-pox epidemic. Ugh ! I can feel the damp, 
 and smell the marsh-vapours yet. If you must warble 
 malarial songs, I wish you 'd follow them up with 
 an ode to quinine or hot whiskey. It might stave 
 off mental chills and fever. I once heard of a 
 musical fellow who said it always gave him a head- 
 ache to compose drinking-songs, until a friend sug- 
 gested he should compose a bromo-seltzer with each 
 one." 
 
 Ralph's ancient anecdote called forth a feeble 
 laugh, and the tension relaxed somewhat. John 
 asked Kate Meagley a question about a book 
 she had been reading aloud to Miss Folger, and 
 Ralph, who had heard one chapter of it, had a 
 well-digested criticism ready that provoked a real 
 laugh. 
 
 Dale stood by Myrtle's chair, his hand on the tall 
 back. She looked up at him. 
 
 " Where did you get that song? Words and music 
 are new to me. I never heard anything just like it 
 out of tragic opera." 
 
 His half-smile was one with the light lingering 
 in his eyes. When he answered, she had the sense 
 of a sub-thought that abstracted his attention from 
 what he was saying : 
 
 " It is a free translation of verses written in Italian 
 by a man named Barretti. He was an Italian noble- 
 man who was banished from his own country for 
 some political offence. His home, after that, was
 
 Socialism and Song 191 
 
 in New Orleans. He he killed a woman, a 
 woman he loved. Then he fled to the bayous and 
 hid from justice for several months. A sheriff's posse 
 surrounded him in a swamp, and called on him to 
 surrender. He laughed in their faces, and blew out 
 his brains. When his body was searched the verses 
 of that song were found scrawled in pencil on the 
 back of some envelopes in his pocket, and on blank 
 pages of the letters the score of the music." 
 
 " What a strange, awfully sad story ! Where were 
 the verses printed? " 
 
 " They were never printed. They came into my 
 possession in a roundabout way, years ago. The 
 papers were passed over to Barretti's son. I suspect 
 he had little besides from the father. When he grew 
 up, he translated the doggerel and put the music 
 into shape. I knew him fairly well at one time. 
 I had the story, the song, and the music from him, 
 poor fellow ! " 
 
 Ralph was on the war-path again. As Dale uttered 
 the last words, the restless little man laid a hand 
 upon the doctor's arm, 
 
 " Now you 're not harping upon that blasted ballad 
 of ague, nightmare, and murder still, are you? 
 You 're morbid, old man ! " 
 
 " On the contrary, I was never less morbid in my 
 life than at the present moment," giving his friend 
 the benefit of his brightest smile. " What can I do 
 to prove it? " 
 
 " Sing a normal, up-to-date love song, to wash the 
 swamp-mud out of our imaginations. Something 
 tender and thrilling " 
 
 "And trashy?" subjoined Dale, still smiling, as he 
 went back to the music-room. 
 
 A dashing, tripping air, as tuneful and as shallow 
 as the carol of a cage-bred canary, trilled through the 
 rooms ; then the up-to-date song,
 
 192 Dr. Dale 
 
 I said her face so fair, 
 
 With its crown of sun-kissed hair 
 
 Golden-brown, 
 Far eclipsed the light of day 
 When the quick'ning sun of May 
 
 Flashes down ; 
 
 That her eyes of tender blue 
 Would outshine the heavens' hue 
 
 In their light. 
 
 But she would n't understand, 
 Vowed my praise was second-hand, 
 
 And so trite ! 
 
 Yet across the sunset skies 
 Roseate flushes seemed to rise, 
 
 All astir 
 
 With the joy the heavens shared 
 That their light could be compared 
 
 Thus to her ! 
 
 " That 's something like ! " cried Ralph, leading the 
 applause. 
 
 And Kate Meagley, as Dr. Dale helped her collect 
 the rolling spools from the wicker work-stand, tipped 
 over by an incautious movement right across his 
 track as he approached her, 
 
 " Your versatility is a continual surprise, even to 
 me, who ought to know you ' fairly well ' by this time." 
 
 From which sugary speech he guessed, whether 
 she meant him to do it or not, that she had over- 
 heard part of the story of song, author, and 
 translator.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A BRACE OF SURPRISES 
 
 " Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, 
 Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." 
 
 morning sunshine lay in a broad band 
 across the floor of Dr. Dale's inner office. 
 In the centre of the golden track sat Eg- 
 bert Dale. 
 
 The lines about his eyes and mouth were 
 wondrously softened, and the light on his face was 
 not all from the sun. It was one of the rare moments 
 when the soul of a dreamer ingenuous, sanguine, 
 loving looked from the eyes of the reserved man 
 of the world. In his hand he held a tiny square 
 of sheer cambric, turning it over with tender touches. 
 The light striking through it showed a monogram in 
 one corner, M. B., wrought in delicate embroidery. 
 A knock at the door brought him to his feet with 
 a guilty start. He thrust the handkerchief into an 
 inner breast-pocket, and strode through the outer 
 office to the front entrance. 
 
 It was the impersonal, dignified physician of office 
 hours who stood face to face with Kate Meagley 
 upon the threshold. 
 
 The very calm of his impenetrable visage sent a 
 queer pang through the girl as she returned his greet- 
 ing, and passed, at his request, into the general office. 
 Dale stood aside to let her enter, then followed. 
 She had broken in upon his reverie, and he was 
 vaguely resentful. 
 
 " I hope Miss Folger is no worse for yesterday's 
 excitement? " he said. 
 
 13
 
 194 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Not at all ! " briskly and brightly. " Indeed, she 
 does not admit that she was excited. I never saw 
 such self-possession. My nerves felt the strain, dear 
 Aunt Sarepta was quite overcome, and one might 
 almost have fancied that Miss Bell's own future pros- 
 pects were concerned in the success of the blast, from 
 the intense way she kept her eyes fixed upon Mr. 
 Raph. She has such a sympathetic temperament ! " 
 she made haste to add, the doctor's impassive de- 
 meanour discouraging further particulars. 
 
 " I am glad Miss Folger was n't overtired," a trifle 
 stiffly. " I was afraid, when I saw you, that she 
 might not be as well as she promised last night to be. 
 But " 
 
 " But " taking the word from his mouth " you 
 are wondering, in that case, why I am breaking in 
 upon your precious time. Now confess ! Are n't 
 you?"' 
 
 Her tone was laboriously playful. It " took " with 
 the Pitvalian masculinity of a certain type. She had 
 tried it before, with lamentable ill-success, upon Dr. 
 Dale. Man at large (represented by a provincial's 
 experience) she looked upon as a Marriageable Ani- 
 mal whose heart was an organ. Upon this instrument 
 any mistress of the fine arts of coquetry and so-called 
 badinage could play if she kept a steady head. Dr. 
 Dale responded to none of her tests thus far. She 
 had begun by seeing in him a rising physician who 
 might prove an excellent match for the middle daugh- 
 ter of the house of Meagley. With this idea she had 
 opened her campaign, marshalling her forces accord- 
 ing to tactics learned from novels and other women's 
 love stories. 
 
 Failing to secure even a second glance from the 
 eyes that looked so tranquil and were so deep, she 
 fell to studying the unimpressionable being more 
 closely. Then she saw that he was unlike any
 
 A Br ace of Surprises 195 
 
 man she had heretofore known. He met every re- 
 quirement set up by her novel-trained brain for a 
 young girl's ideal, and added several new and bewil- 
 deringly fascinating qualities to the model. His face 
 and form she likened to the much-abused Greek 
 god's ; his voice was rich music ; he talked well and 
 oftentimes wittily; his presence carried force. He 
 mastered men and was admired by women. His in- 
 difference to herself first angered, then enthralled her. 
 
 In brief, Kate Meagley had grown to love Egbert 
 Dale as only a narrow, self-centred woman can love. 
 
 It frightened as well as puzzled her, this unique 
 passion. It was so utterly foreign to the rest of her 
 nature. The force of it would long since have swept 
 her off her feet but for the utter unconsciousness of 
 the object of her devotion. As it was, she held 
 adoration in check by an effort that irritated and at 
 last wore her out. Her pride revolted at the cheap 
 pretexts she made use of to secure even five minutes 
 of Dale's society. She was not strong enough to re- 
 sist the temptation. 
 
 " Confess ! " she repeated, with a pitiful effort at 
 raillery. "You wonder what should bring me here 
 when Ruth does not need your services, and I have 
 nothing new to report of her. Well ! I '11 put you 
 out of your suspense. I came here to consult you 
 about a much less interesting person. I mean 
 myself." 
 
 " You are not ill, I hope ? You 're looking very 
 well." 
 
 The professional visor was closed ; the profes- 
 sional armour had no open joint. What she chose to 
 tell he would hear. He would not question without 
 a clue. 
 
 " It 's my heart, I think." Her embarrassment was 
 natural, but not becoming. " It runs in the family, 
 heart-trouble does. Some months ago I went to a
 
 196 Dr. Dale 
 
 specialist in Philadelphia. Ruth would make me see 
 him. He said there was ' functional irregularity,' 
 whatever that may mean," trying to laugh. " I sup- 
 pose you, being a doctor, can translate his terms. 
 He said I must be careful about running upstairs, and 
 things like that, you know. But lately it 's been 
 worse. I don't like to worry Ruth by talk of my 
 grievances and bad feelings. So I came here on the 
 sly. Perhaps you would n't mind listening to my 
 heart and telling me if there really is anything serious 
 the matter with it ? " 
 
 " Let me feel your pulse, first, please ! " said the 
 doctor, gravely. 
 
 The firm touch of his fingers thrilled her like a 
 slight electric shock. Her pulse was wiry, rapid, 
 irregular. It puzzled Dale, who, being the least 
 conceited of mortals, had not the faintest suspicion as 
 to the true cause of the arterial eccentricity. 
 
 " I would better listen to the heart," he said. " If 
 you will step into the inner office " 
 
 Kate had told the truth concerning her visit to the 
 Philadelphia specialist. He was fatherly ; he was 
 bald-headed and red-faced. She had felt little or no 
 embarrassment in undergoing the cardiac examina- 
 tion. Dr. Dale, though equally impersonal, with the 
 same machine-like professionalism, was a different 
 creature altogether. She blushed redly at the sug- 
 gested auscultation. Then she steeled herself for 
 the ordeal. It was a step gained to have him in- 
 terested in her case. 
 
 Without a word, she inclined her head slightly and 
 went into the other room. Dr. Dale followed her 
 some minutes later. She had had time to make the 
 needful preparations. She had had time, also, to 
 grow intensely nervous. 
 
 " Now, if you are ready, Miss Meagley," said Dale, 
 carelessly.
 
 A Brace of Surprises 197 
 
 Approaching her, as he might an automaton, he 
 put his left arm around her, the hand resting beneath 
 her left shoulder-blade. " Stand perfectly still, and 
 breathe normally, if you please," he went on, his ear 
 applied, now to the centre of her bared chest, now 
 pressed above the auricular valves, then over the 
 apex of the heart. 
 
 In a tremor of bashfulness Kate Meagley glanced 
 downward. 
 
 The broad band of sunshine touched Dale's bowed 
 head, making lustrous the stippling of silver in his 
 dark hair, and bringing out the sculptured outlines of 
 the beautiful head into clear relief. The light, strong 
 hold of the arm about her waist, the occasional touch 
 of his cheek or hair, were as strong wine to the girl's 
 love-touched brain. 
 
 And then Kate Meagley did what she was never 
 to forget or to forgive herself for, something she 
 could never explain in long vigils of anguished self- 
 contempt, during which she rehearsed to her writhing 
 soul every detail of the horror and the shame. 
 
 A tense chord snapped in her brain. The flood- 
 gates were down. 
 
 With one convulsive motion she gathered the bent 
 head in her arms, crushing it with unnatural force in 
 a wild embrace and gasping, 
 
 " Oh, I love you ! I love you ! My king ! I adore 
 you ! " 
 
 It was over in a second. 
 
 Dale had shaken his head free, and stood, gazing 
 wide-eyed, in amazed disgust, at the trembling girl. 
 Her face was buried in her hands, and her slender 
 form was shaken by a storm of dry sobs. 
 
 They stood thus for perhaps half a minute, the band 
 of sunshine lying like a bar of gold between them. 
 
 " Oh, how could I ! Oh the shame the shame 
 of it ! " she moaned, at last, brokenly.
 
 198 Dr. Dale 
 
 Dale turned on his heel and walked into the outer 
 office, leaving her to readjust her bodice. When she 
 appeared in the doorway, downcast and shaken, he 
 did not look at her; his tone was frigid. 
 
 " I think," he said, " you would better consult the 
 Philadelphia specialist again. I shall not be able to 
 take charge of the case." 
 
 The dispassionate formula fell upon her horror- 
 stricken spirit like vitriol. She opened her dry lips 
 to utter protest or plea, but before she could speak, 
 a knock sounded upon the outer door. 
 
 Dale answered it, and the Rev. C. Mather Welsh 
 pushed, uninvited, past him into the office. 
 
 " You '11 excuse my haste ! " he said curtly. " I 'm 
 in a great hurry this morning, and have only a mo- 
 ment to spare." 
 
 " May I suggest," remarked the doctor, " that you 
 might have spared that moment to advantage in 
 asking if I were disengaged ? " 
 
 Kate Meagley had retreated to the inner room at 
 the knock, and a glimpse of her red, tear-stained face 
 in a mirror made her shrink into a corner. Welsh 
 must not see her like this. 
 
 The clergyman glanced around the office, as if to 
 make sure there was no one else there. 
 
 " I came to speak to you about old Mrs. Belden in 
 Elm Street, No. 59," he began. " I went there this 
 morning, and found she had had a stroke of paralysis. 
 Her daughter begged me to go at once for Dr. Dale ; 
 that is why I am here ; that is why I did not stop to 
 ask if you were disengaged. I am too busy in the 
 Master's service to observe all the niceties of social 
 forms observed by you " 
 
 " And some millions of other decent people ! " in- 
 terpolated the physician, cuttingly. 
 
 Welsh was his bete noir at all times, and his temper 
 just now was excoriated by the recent incident.
 
 A Brace of Surprises 199 
 
 As a valiant member of the church militant, Welsh 
 struck back, and instantly, 
 
 " And which you have been taught to expect by 
 such tutors as Mr. Bell and the woman he is passing 
 off as his sister 
 
 " What!" thundered Dale, quivering with rage 
 and advancing toward the speaker. 
 
 The little figure in soiled threadbare black did not 
 flinch. The watery, red-rimmed eyes did not quail 
 before the blazing orbs that challenged him ; he even 
 smiled acridly. 
 
 " This show of indignation does you credit, Dr. 
 Dale !" he sneered, "or it would if it were at all 
 sincere. I suppose what men of your stamp call 
 ' honour ' obliges you to defend her, and as long as 
 Bell is not jealous, it is no affair of mine." 
 
 " Go ! " whispered Dale. 
 
 His face was grayish-white and perfectly calm, but 
 he seemed to have lost the power of speech. His 
 lips did not move as the monosyllable left them. He 
 pointed to the door with a steady hand. 
 
 Kate Meagley, whose very existence he had for- 
 gotten in this new crisis, looked on from the inner 
 room. For the time she worshipped the man who 
 had forced her to disgrace herself. 
 
 ' He 'd strike the little fool dead if 'twas n't for his 
 clerical coat," she thought. "He is magnificent !" 
 
 Welsh had expected an onslaught of some sort, 
 and braced himself to bear it like a Christian martyr 
 who dares to suffer for the truth. Dale's seeming 
 apathy was a problem. He had heard that men of 
 the world were different from this. He felt a certain 
 relieved contempt for the doctor. 
 
 " Yes," he replied sardonically, " I will go. I 
 do not wonder that you were disposed to resent my 
 honest words concerning your coadjutor's mis " 
 
 The speech ended in a gurgle.
 
 200 Dr. Dale 
 
 Dale had put out one hand, seized him by the 
 throat, crushing the dirty clerical collar into the un- 
 shaven neck, and had swung him clear of the floor. 
 With the open palm of the other hand he struck 
 Welsh's distorted face once twice thrice ! Then, 
 shaking him on the way until the lean arms and 
 legs wobbled like those of a badly strung marionette, 
 he bore the wriggling victim to the front porch and 
 dropped him gently down the short flight of steps 
 leading to the street. 
 
 Turning about without waiting to note the effect 
 of the fall, he closed the door behind him, re-entered 
 his office, went at once to a screened-off corner of 
 the room, and washed his hands vigorously. 
 
 This done, he picked up his hat and a black 
 satchel, preparatory to visiting paralytic Mrs. Belden. 
 
 He was half-way to the stricken woman's house 
 before his head cleared, and he recollected that he 
 had left Kate Meagley in his inner office. 
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley her momentary ex- 
 citement over the medico-clerical controversy giving 
 place once more to the gnawing shame that devoured 
 her walked, as in a dream, from the deserted 
 rooms and bent her steps mechanically toward the 
 Folger house. 
 
 At any other time a scene such as she had wit- 
 nessed between the two men would have sent her, 
 hot-foot, through the town, beginning with her 
 mother and sisters, regaling them and other choice 
 spirits with the story, and shining in reflected glory 
 as the sole spectator of the fray. 
 
 No better idea of her present state of mind could 
 be given than by saying that the quarrel and Dale's 
 attack had left her thoughts utterly. Those same 
 thoughts were stretched upon the most terrible tor- 
 ture-apparatus known in all the annals of Pain, the 
 rack of Self-loathing.
 
 A Brace of Surprises 201 
 
 That she, Kate Meagley, most fastidious of five 
 ultra-modest sisters; model (self-constituted) of Pit- 
 vale femininity; Propriety's doughty champion 
 that she should have been guilty of an action which 
 now luridly recurred to her as though it were the 
 deed of an absolute and most objectionable stranger, 
 was an awful Horror. 
 
 It is natural, in moments of extreme self-contempt, 
 to put out desperate hands and drag the nearest out- 
 sider down into the depths with us. Happy those of 
 us who can go so far as to leave the hapless fallen 
 vicarious sufferer writhing there, and ourselves rise 
 to the brink, thence to glare down in disgust or 
 better still, in hatred at him. If we can trace to 
 him, by any tortuous course of logic, some part or lot 
 in our misfortune, we are trebly comforted. Then 
 loathing has another object, and no longer turns in- 
 ward upon ourselves. 
 
 Kate Meagley, from solitary self-contempt, began, 
 unconsciously at first, to shift the blame upon Egbert 
 Dale. But for him this unspeakable Thing would 
 not have been. He could have averted it or when 
 it happened could have given a different complexion 
 to the incident, swollen in the retrospect into a ca- 
 lamity. He must have guessed in part he must 
 have foreseen ! 
 
 What a brute he was what a cur to permit her 
 thus to degrade herself! All the traditions of home 
 and family mustered to the aid of the rising belief in 
 herself as the prey of a wicked man's arts. 
 
 Lighter grew her self-hatred; fiercer burned the 
 glow of malevolence toward the witness and the 
 cause of her humiliation. She dug her nails into 
 her palms as she walked ; the murmur that broke 
 from her tormented soul was a hiss, 
 
 " Oh, to get even with him ! to humble him as he 
 has humbled me ! "
 
 202 Dr. Dale 
 
 Beautiful was lonely. 
 
 His mistress was writing letters, and for some 
 occult reason objected to being kissed and having 
 perfectly clean paws laid upon her lap while thus 
 engaged. 
 
 John Bell, the next most desirable comrade, was 
 out on pastoral visits, and had inexcusably forgotten 
 to invite Beautiful to go with him. Dr. Dale, too, 
 was absent. As a jack-at-a-pinch, the sedate phy- 
 sician was not amiss. Thomas Jefferson, under Mrs. 
 Bowersox's ponderous guidance, was climbing the 
 ladder of learning by means of a wretched little vol- 
 ume, entitled Reading without Tears, the blistered 
 pages giving the name the lie direct. Mrs. Bowersox 
 had mildly but firmly banished Beautiful from the 
 nursery during this penitential hour, precedent hav- 
 ing taught her that the versatile Jeffs mind would 
 otherwise bend toward natural history rather than 
 toward the book with the lying title. 
 
 Beautiful, temporarily robbed of human society, 
 was thrown upon his own resources for entertainment. 
 At first this did not seem such an evil case. He had 
 espied in the garden a cat a friendly cat with whom 
 he was usually upon comfortable terms and 
 dashed at her melodramatically, barking with rever- 
 berant ferocity, ruffling up the golden-red hair all 
 along his spine, as was his custom when on murder 
 bent. 
 
 Pussy had bided his coming valorously, in the 
 middle of a grassy plat, had scratched his nose with 
 virulence utterly uncalled for, and then fled, in simu- 
 lated dread and with bloated tail, up a tree, from the 
 branches of which she peered down upon the irate 
 dog in hypocritical and surpriseful reproach. 
 
 Balked of his natural sport, Beautiful, after barking 
 as long as the occasion seemed to demand, wandered 
 off in quest of fresh adventures.
 
 A Brace of Surprises 203 
 
 He feigned for a while to see lurking dangers in 
 outhouses and shrubbery, walking past them on the 
 tips of his toes, back bristling and tail rigidly hori- 
 zontal, the while emitting deep, threatening growls 
 for the benefit of theoretical hidden marauders. 
 
 This diversion palling upon him, he went back to 
 the front porch, where he flung himself weariedly on 
 the door-mat. From this vantage-ground his eyes 
 could sweep the road as far as Presto Corner, and up 
 and down the hill into the town. 
 
 Suddenly his feathery tail arose and struck the 
 porch-floor with a resounding thump, repeated sev- 
 eral times with emphasis. His ears were cocked; 
 the light of welcome shone in his big topaz eyes. 
 Along the road, evidently bound for the farmhouse, 
 plodded a woman in a fawn-coloured costume. Beau- 
 tiful did not wholly approve of the Middle Miss 
 Meagley. He was far from numbering her among 
 his nearest and dearest. Still a visit from any one 
 was a boon to a bored dog. 
 
 He writhed down the steps to meet her as she en- 
 tered the grounds. Then the instinct of hospitality 
 asserted itself. He had neglected to get his custom- 
 ary votive offering. A rapid and dismayed survey 
 of the premises failed to provide stick or stone of 
 convenient size, or so much as an eligible dead leaf. 
 He sped back into the hallway, through the door 
 which was ajar, in quest of an overshoe or a hat. 
 The place was as bare as Mother Hubbard's cupboard. 
 He was on the brink of despair, when he saw the 
 corner of a yellow envelope projecting over the edge 
 of the hall table. Springing up, he caught it in his 
 mouth and rushed out in time to intercept Miss 
 Meagley in the gravel walk. 
 
 The girl paid scant heed to the greeting of the 
 transmogrified Marquis. She glanced listlessly at 
 him, said dully " Good dog ! " and was passing on,
 
 204 Dr. Dale 
 
 when the envelope in his mouth arrested her eyes. 
 It looked like a telegram. She stooped to disengage 
 it from Beautiful's jaws. 
 
 " A telegram, and not opened ! " she said, half 
 aloud. " It must have been left in the hall by one of 
 those careless messenger boys. I '11 put it back." 
 
 The envelope was slightly torn by the jerk that had 
 wrested it from the dog's teeth. Kate read the ad- 
 dress : " Dr. Egbert Dale." 
 
 She glanced furtively around. Nobody was in 
 sight. Screened by a clump of evergreens, she 
 pulled the folded message through the tear in the 
 envelope. She was in no haste. She had come on 
 an errand from Ruth Folger to Mrs. Bowersox un- 
 willingly but she dared not provoke remark by re- 
 fusing. There was no risk of finding Dr. Dale at 
 home in the middle of the afternoon. She would 
 have a look at the despatch, tuck it back through the 
 rent, and throw the blame where it belonged, upon the 
 meddlesome, spoiled household pet. 
 
 She read the message. When she reached the 
 signature, her jaw dropped from sheer amazement. 
 Then it closed with a sharp click; an odd light 
 gleamed in her eyes. 
 
 " I '11 keep this ! " she said deliberately, thrusting 
 envelope and despatch into the bosom of her gown.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 " SO HELP ME, GOD ! " 
 And a little child shall lead them." 
 
 JEFFERSON was under sus- 
 
 Ipicion. 
 His mother had discovered, at breakfast 
 time, that Dr. Dale had not had a telegram 
 she had laid on the hall table at three 
 o'clock of the preceding afternoon. Since neither 
 Anneke nor Gretchen had touched it, it " stood to 
 reason," according to the maternal logic, that Jeff had 
 made away with it. 
 
 Without intermitting his breakfast, the small sinner 
 hearkened to accusation and exhortation in stolid 
 composure, until Myrtle Bell offered a disclaimer: 
 
 " The wind may have blown it to the floor and out 
 of the door, Mrs. Bowersox ; I don't think Jeff would 
 say he had not taken it if he had ! " 
 
 " I wish I could think so, Miss Bell ! But children 
 are not always as careful to speak the truth as they 
 should be, poor little dears ! Nor, for that matter, 
 are some grown people. I have said, a thousand 
 times, if I 've said it once, that if there is one sin 
 I dread as I do rank poison, it is lying, or trifling the 
 leastest little bit with the truth." 
 
 "Think, Jeff!" said Myrtle, persuasively, to her 
 prottgt. " Did you play with any papers any let- 
 ters or envelopes yesterday? What were you do- 
 ing after you finished your afternoon reading, until 
 you were called in to your supper ? " 
 
 The child's great blue eyes were introspective ; a 
 look of intensest solemnity stole into them and over
 
 206 Dr. Dale 
 
 his cherubic visage. He put his hands into his lap 
 and under the table as he had been trained to do 
 when grace was said. 
 
 " I fink," he enunciated slowly, "I 'most fink I 
 must have burned it up when I 'sploded my Wufe 
 well in the garden. That was when I burned my 
 fingers," holding up a pink thumb and forefinger, 
 each tipped with a round white blister. 
 
 "Jeff! " His mother elevated holy hands of hor- 
 ror. " How often must I tell you never to touch a 
 letter that doesn't belong to you? And none of 
 them ever do ! And how naughty it is for little boys, 
 poor dears! to play with matches? And do you 
 know it is awfully wrong to burn a telegram ? There 's 
 no telling what may happen to Dr. Dale because of 
 your meddling. Some poor, dear woman, or, for all 
 you know, a poor dear little boy no bigger than you, 
 may be badly burned with oil, or very sick, or some- 
 thing; and they couldn't get the doctor when they 
 sent for him, and poor, dear Dr. Dale not knowing 
 anything about it, because a naughty boy took the 
 telegram off the table where his poor mother laid it, 
 never dreaming, poor thing ! that her son would n't 
 mind what he had been told. 
 
 " I declare," to the party at large, " it is harder 
 every day I live for me to realise that child ! I don't 
 see where he gets his meddlesome tricks from ! " 
 
 Jeff's lip quivered ; he swallowed hard to get the 
 upper hand of a nasty knot in his windpipe. He 
 must choose between a cry and a swagger. 
 
 He swaggered. 
 
 " Oh, well ! " in the most mannish tone he could 
 manufacture, one that broke at the end in spite of his 
 pluck, " I fink, maybe, they '11 send another telegrand. 
 I would n't wowwy if I was you, Dr. Dale. Mamma, 
 may I please have one more cake ? With a good deal 
 of syrup on it?"
 
 "So Help Me, God!" 207 
 
 "Imperturbability?" queried John, of the two di- 
 verted listeners. 
 
 " Bluff! " answered Dr. Dale, laconically. 
 
 And Myrtle, " The shower is not far off. Change 
 the subject, or lift language above his comprehension. 
 Is it likely that serious inconvenience will result from 
 the transgression?" 
 
 Dale shook his head. 
 
 " Perhaps yes ; perhaps no ! The juvenile philos- 
 opher may be right in supposing that the message 
 will be duplicated. If nothing reaches me by noon, 
 I will call at the telegraph office and ask for a copy. 
 I have not time to see to it this morning; I am fear- 
 fully rushed with work. Will you excuse me, Mrs. 
 Bowersox? " 
 
 " I '11 go to the office for you," said John. 
 
 In rising from table the doctor patted his friend's 
 shoulder gratefully. 
 
 " No, thank you, old man ! It is probably of more 
 consequence to the sender than to me, so he'll try 
 again. And a doctor's telegrams are sometimes 
 confidential. Don't expect me to dinner, Mrs. 
 Bowersox. Good-morning to you all ! " 
 
 The sun was down, and Mrs. Bowersox was light- 
 ing the hall-lamp when a latch-key clicked in the 
 door, and Dr. Dale appeared. As he took off his 
 hat she saw that he was pale and evidently weary, 
 but his smile was pleasant; he spoke cheerfully. 
 
 " Good-evening ! " he said. " Has Jeff gone to 
 bed ? And in how many pieces ? " 
 
 " He 's been in bed this half-hour, doctor. You 're 
 very kind to ask after him. I 've kept his sin well 
 before him all day. There 's no telling what would 
 have happened to him if Miss Bell hadn't taken his 
 part and begged me when he wasn't by, of course 
 to let up on him. You may depend upon his not 
 touching any more of your telegrams."
 
 208 Dr. Dale 
 
 A queer something that was neither shadow nor 
 gleam flitted over the doctor's face. He moved 
 toward the nursery door at the back of the hall. 
 
 " May I look in upon him and speak to him if he 
 is not asleep ? " 
 
 "Surely!" 
 
 Myrtle had heard Mrs. Bowersox leave the nursery 
 and go off in the direction of the kitchen after Jeff 
 was put to bed. Then she seized the opportunity 
 to pay him one of the surreptitious visits in which 
 both delighted. She had discovered, long ago, that 
 the boy often lay awake in the dark for an hour or 
 more after the word had gone forth that he must 
 "go to sleep like a good boy, and not think." 
 
 The thinking was what kept the large brain active 
 when lumpish urchins of his age were snoring. 
 Myrtle had found him, once and again, staring into 
 gloom peopled for him with fantastic shapes, his 
 feet and hands cold, his head hot. 
 
 The scenes attendant upon the reopening of the 
 oil-well were still vivid in his mind. He had 
 dreams of his own, based upon what he had seen 
 and heard, and, as he had let slip under the weight 
 of the accusation brought against him at breakfast- 
 time, had begun operations that might lead on to 
 fortune and such fame as was awarded to Mr. Folger 
 by the hurrahing multitude. 
 
 He "had not meant to burn Dr. Dale's tele- 
 grand," he now confessed to Myrtle. "I s'pose I 
 must have been finking of somefing else when I 
 tooked it off the table, for I don't 'member it at all. 
 But I did start the fire to make b'lieve 'splode the 
 Wufe with a piece of yellow paper, 'most like a let- 
 ter. I hope Dr. Dale won't be angwy with me for 
 vewy long. I like Dr. Dale ! " 
 
 A long-drawn sigh said how much. 
 
 " He is not angry at all," responded the comforter.
 
 "So Help Me, God!" 209 
 
 " He is too good and too kind to be angry at what 
 he knows was an accident. He knows you did not 
 mean to do wrong. You can show him that you are 
 really sorry by being more careful another time. 
 
 " Now what do you say to getting into my lap 
 and letting me sing to you for a little while? " 
 
 Thus it came about that Egbert Dale, on the 
 threshold of the nursery, his hand upon the door 
 which was unbolted, and yielded slightly to his 
 touch, heard a soft voice singing within, and paused 
 until the hymn was done. 
 
 "Safe in the Hollow of Thy Hand, 
 
 I lay me down to sleep : 
 The Hand that sifts the stars like sand, 
 And measures out the deep. 
 
 " In darkest folds the night may fall, 
 
 The wind and rain may beat ; 
 My Father's Hand is in them all : 
 My slumber shall be sweet. 
 
 " Should haunting dreams my soul affright, 
 
 A grim and evil band, 
 These words shall put their hosts to flight, 
 
 The Hollow of His Hand.' 
 
 " Father ! through all my nights and days, 
 
 At home, on sea, or land, 
 Thee will I trust, this be my praise, 
 
 The Hollow of Thy Hand." 
 
 The man stood without the door, his head bowed 
 reverently, the light of a great peace upon his face. 
 As the singing ceased, he pressed his hand hard 
 against his eyes. When he had knocked he entered 
 the room with lifted head and light step. 
 
 " I thought it was Jack, when I called out, ' Come 
 in! ' so gayly," said Myrtle, glancing around. 
 
 She sat in a low rocker before the fire, Jeff, 
 
 4
 
 210 Dr. Dale 
 
 muffled in a crimson shawl Dale knew to be hers, 
 in her arms, the flossy curls rumpled against her 
 shoulder, the round cheek laid to hers. 
 
 " Would you have said, ' Stay out ! ' or only spoken 
 'Come in,' sadly?" smiled Dale. "Now that I am 
 in if upon false pretences may I sit down while 
 I say something to our little friend here? " 
 
 He moved a chair to her side and swept Jeff's face 
 with a gentle finger. Caress and tone were alike 
 soothing. 
 
 " I looked in to tell you, my boy, that your burn- 
 ing the telegram yesterday did no harm. I had an- 
 other to-day from the same person that straightened 
 everything out. I would n't make a business of 
 burning letters if I were you. But it 's all right 
 about this one, so we '11 say no more about it. 
 Shake hands!" 
 
 Jeff thrust a chubby fist from the crimson depths 
 of the shawl, and heaved a satisfied sigh. 
 
 "Then there wasn't anybody sick or dead you 
 could have helped if you had got it sooner?" 
 
 "There wasn't anybody sick or dead I could have 
 helped if I had got it sooner ! " repeating the words 
 as the child had said them, and with increasing 
 gentleness. 
 
 "She" Jeff raised loving eyes to the face above 
 him " said you were too good and kind to be angry 
 with anybody. I fought so, too ! " 
 
 A burning billow of colour leaped to Myrtle's 
 cheeks ; her eyes sank under the sudden fire darted 
 into them from orbs that met them in the surprise 
 of the unguarded instant. For that instant she was 
 speechless, and deaf to everything but the alarum of 
 her heart. 
 
 Jeff complicated matters. 
 
 "Your heart goes bumpety-bump ! " showing his 
 pretty teeth in a laugh and pressing his ear more
 
 "So Help Me, God!" an 
 
 closely to her chest. " Dr. Dale showed me where 
 my heart is. One day, when I tumbled off a hay- 
 wagon and cwacked my collar's bone. He listened 
 at my heart." 
 
 Had the averted eyes been raised just then, Myrtle 
 would have been chilled and repelled at the expres- 
 sion that transformed the visage but just now so 
 warm and bright. The spasm of disgustful memory 
 passed as swiftly as it had come. 
 
 "I am glad she thinks so well of me," kindly 
 and naturally. Then, in a different tone "I do 
 not deserve it. Nevertheless, I am grateful and 
 proud! Don't lift him!" as the girl moved to lay 
 her burden down. 
 
 He took the boy in his strong arms, and put him 
 into the crib without removing the shawl. When 
 he raised himself Myrtle saw that the fringe was 
 tangled about one of his cuff-buttons and started 
 forward impulsively to disengage it. Before either 
 of them could anticipate his intention, Jeff put an 
 arm about the neck of each, and drew them down to 
 him, kissing first one, then the other. 
 
 " You are awful good to me, Dr. Dale ! " Releas- 
 ing the doctor as he said it, he clasped Myrtle more 
 fondly. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Bell! you are the sweetest, prettiest 
 lady in the whole world ! Don't you love her, Dr. 
 Dale?" 
 
 The answer was prompt, serious, fervent. 
 
 " Yes, my boy ! Now, good-night, and no dreams ! " 
 He patted the curly head, and went out without word 
 or look for the third person present. 
 
 Myrtle lingered in the nursery until she was posi- 
 tive that Dr. Dale had gone up to his room, then 
 coming out, saw him standing at the hall window 
 near the foot of the staircase, his hands behind him, 
 looking out into the night.
 
 212 Dr. Dale 
 
 Softly as she tried to flit by him, he heard her 
 and turned. 
 
 " May I speak to you for a few minutes? " 
 
 She bent her head in silent acquiescence, and he 
 followed her into the Bells' parlour. 
 
 Lamp and fire let him see the downdropped eyes, 
 the pulsing carmine of her cheeks, the sweet grav- 
 ity of her mouth. She was as much superior to 
 coquetry as he to idle gallantry, at this, the su- 
 preme moment of their lives. When he took her 
 hand she did not resist. 
 
 "I am here to answer Jeff's question more fully 
 and strongly," he began without preamble. "I do 
 love you with all my heart and soul and strength. 
 Better than my life better than my soul ! So help 
 me, GOD!" 
 
 Her hand lay passively in his, the scent of the 
 knot of purple violets in her belt, drooping in the 
 fire-heat, mingled with the breath of the roses in 
 the bowl on a table near by; the room was as still 
 as a death-chamber but for the faint crackling of the 
 fire, while one could have counted thirty. 
 
 Then the downdropped lids flew wide; a flood of 
 laughing, loving light radiance, as from the open- 
 ing heavens was poured into his eyes and soul. 
 
 "The truth the whole truth and nothing but 
 the truth?" asked the girl, archly. 
 
 " So help me, GOD ! " was the solemn iteration. 
 
 "Nevertheless" she was saying saucily, when 
 they had waited a good forty-five minutes for "dear 
 old Jack" to come in "all this is horribly uncon- 
 ventional, and diametrically opposed to articles and 
 by-laws of the Etiquette of Courtship. To address 
 a well-bred young lady of quality and I am that, 
 although you may not believe it! anywhere but 
 under the roof of her parents or guardian Bless
 
 "So Help Me, God!" 213 
 
 me!" in comic dismay, "Jack is my legal guardian, 
 is n't he?" 
 
 "Give me credit for bearing that fact in mind," 
 rejoined Dale, with admirable sedateness. " I hope 
 your mind is easier now that you know the proprie- 
 ties have been conserved ? " 
 
 "No!" rallying bravely. "This is Mrs. Bower- 
 sox's house. Everything that has been said and 
 done in the last hour is null and void, and will have 
 to be done and said over again at a proper time and 
 place." 
 
 " With all my heart ! but when and where ? I 
 thought you said to-day that your uncle and aunt are 
 en route for California. When they get back, they 
 will go to a New York hotel. Complications are 
 on the increase. 
 
 " As I said, I am more than willing to go all over 
 the ground again. Suppose I begin by rehearsing 
 it to John? I hear his step on the porch." 
 
 Myrtle sprang up in a panic. 
 
 " Go and meet him ! " she panted. " Take him 
 into his study or to your room or anywhere ! and 
 tell him whatever you like! Mind! if Jack should 
 object " 
 
 " Well ? " Dale paused, his hand on the lock of 
 the door, a laugh in eyes that were no longer pen- 
 sive or wistful. "Should Jack object He is 
 taking off his overshoes in the hall. Speak quickly 
 or I cannot intercept him ! " 
 
 "Then I shall have no appetite for supper!" 
 and she fairly pushed him out. 
 
 John Bell heard this threat when the rest of the 
 story had been told, and the supper-bell tinkled in 
 the hall. 
 
 He laughed a little. He had worn a sober 
 but not an unsympathetic countenance throughout 
 the relation which Dale condensed into fewer
 
 214 Dr. Dale 
 
 phrases than would have sufficed most men in the 
 circumstances. 
 
 "I have no inclination to 'object,'" John said 
 sincerely. " It is late in the day for me to begin to 
 tell you what I think of you, and how I feel toward 
 you, my dear fellow. You also know, as well as 
 any outsider can, what my only sister is to me. 
 Frankly, there is but one shadow of doubt upon my 
 mind. I never ask questions as to another man's 
 business. But you have made this mine, because 
 it is my sister's. You spoke once less than two 
 months ago of some girl in Tennessee." 
 
 The big fellow was blushing and stammering as 
 if the secret were his, avoiding the other's eyes as 
 he tried to put the objection into words at once deli- 
 cate and direct. 
 
 Dale laid an arm over the broad shoulders; his 
 voice was never more sonorous and musical. 
 
 "John Bell! my dearest friend! Could I look you 
 in the eyes if I could not offer your sister a clean 
 hand and an undivided heart? 
 
 "That was a sick man's blunder. This! give 
 me a chance to prove what a sane man's love is ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 "LOVE! MY LOVE!" 
 
 " Dear Heart ! the cruel road was long, 
 And endless gloomed the night, 
 Till you merged sorrow into song, 
 Till your eyes brought me light. 
 
 Ah ! dear, dear eyes to guide me on ! Touch of a tender hand ! 
 Shadow of Rock ! and Cool of Stream ! in a dry and thirsty land." 
 
 1 
 
 reopening of "The Ruth" turned a 
 new and garish page in the history of the 
 oil industry. 
 
 As the winds from all quarters of the 
 heavens rush into the vacuum made by 
 flame, the wildfire excitement of that memorable 
 day brought a flight of adventurers from every point 
 of the compass into the valley where oil flowed as a 
 river. Town-lots were sold at gilt-edged prices; 
 architects and contractors laboured, day and night, 
 upon specifications; new gin-mills flew the devil's 
 flag at a dozen corners; blacklegs and chemical 
 blondes drove their accursed trades with the gullible 
 and the vicious, whose left hands speedily squan- 
 dered the money made by the right. The money- 
 making fever rioted in the veins of the tramp 
 population until all sense of honesty and decency 
 went to the dogs, and usually the victims of the 
 craze followed it. 
 
 Ralph Folger was, of course, the hero of the day. 
 Bushels of cards entreating the honour of personal 
 interviews, and barrels of letters begging for money 
 in sums varying from five dollars to five thousand, 
 kept servants and secretaries busy. Ralph would 
 not look at one of them. Firm as granite and cool
 
 2i6 Dr. Dale 
 
 as snow, he reserved to himself the right of doing 
 what he would with his own; took counsel with 
 neither speculator nor lawyer as to the manner of 
 increasing and dispensing his riches. 
 
 A dozen lots owned by the Folgers in the heart of 
 the town were to be thrown into a public park; an- 
 other Club House was to be erected near the railway 
 station in one of the worst of the bad neighbourhoods 
 of Pitvale. More could hardly be said in dispraise 
 of the locality. Ruth's pet scheme of a day-nursery 
 was to be carried out with as little delay as was 
 compatible with stability; a whole row of tenement- 
 shanties was swept away in a week to make room for 
 another block of model cottages. A line of electric 
 street cars was projected, and Sandy McAlpin's 
 dream of substituting natural gas for that manufac- 
 tured from coal was made a practical possibility by 
 the formation of a Natural Gas Company, Ralph 
 Folger, President. 
 
 A cheque for five thousand dollars was sent to 
 Rev. Cotton Mather Welsh by Ralph and Ruth 
 Folger, with the request that it might be used in fin- 
 ishing and furnishing the barn-like Mission Chapel 
 going up in the immediate vicinity of The Oilman's 
 Rest. 
 
 The cheque was enclosed in a gracious note from 
 Ruth, expressive of her brother's interest and hers 
 in the Mission. It was acknowledged in as few 
 words as would inform Miss R. Folger that every 
 cent of the donation would be appropriated to the 
 purpose specified in Miss F. 's communication. 
 
 John Bell was with Ruth when Mr. Welsh's letter 
 was brought to her. She read it over twice, once 
 silently, then aloud to her friend. 
 
 "I can't understand why he should take such a 
 tone ! " she said, raising puzzled, sorrowful eyes to 
 John. "We meant so well!"
 
 1IJ 
 
 John took the letter from her, read it, and creased 
 it into small folds while he talked. 
 
 "Don't lay it to heart!" he counselled. "The 
 small crusader belongs to the not-small number of 
 human things who squirm under a sense of personal 
 obligation. It galls him to receive a favour, and he 
 deludes himself into the fancy that he cancels it by 
 ignoring it." 
 
 " But I told him Ralph and I felt it to be a privi- 
 lege to give to such a cause ! " 
 
 " Of course you did ! " as he might console a 
 grieving child. "If he do not choose to believe the 
 truth, what does it matter? The motive in giving 
 and the manner of it are the main thing. If we get 
 no return from those for whom we work, the duty of 
 working and giving remains unaltered." 
 
 He was preaching to himself more than to his 
 parishioner. The plait between his level brows 
 was oftener and longer there than Myrtle or Ruth 
 liked to see. He was away from home a great deal 
 nowadays, and frequently out late at night. Some- 
 times Sandy McAlpin or Carl Nolting accompanied 
 him. Sometimes, but more rarely, Dr. Dale or 
 Ralph Folger shared his beat or vigil. Generally 
 he walked alone, fearlessly, although known by his 
 height and figure to every rough who had been two 
 days in town. He had been seen to enter The Oil- 
 man's Rest at one o'clock in the morning and to 
 come out, half carrying, half leading a man who 
 could not walk. He beat up recruits for the base- 
 ball nine; for the newly organized Choral Union; 
 for the Bachelors' Club ; for Sunday-school and The 
 Men's Bible Class taught by himself. He visited 
 drunken husbands, and talked with wives driven 
 desperate by the cruelty of husbands; he and his 
 co-workers gathered homeless children and vagrant 
 women from the streets and gave them shelter
 
 218 Dr. Dale 
 
 and food and a chance to get back to safety and 
 friends. 
 
 Sandy McAlpin told Ruth Folger, in one of the 
 conferences over the "Inasmuch Library," to which 
 she summoned him now oftener than of yore, that 
 "one line of a hymn was aye singing itself in his 
 head whenever he spied the Dominie making his 
 rounds, 
 
 " ' Seeking to save ! seeking to save ! ' " 
 
 In outward seeming Egbert Dale and Myrtle Bell 
 were in the heart of the maelstrom of strife, of war- 
 ring evil and valiant good, of the lowest and the 
 holiest passions mortality has experience of in this 
 sphere. 
 
 Dr. Dale had never been so busy before, had 
 never thrown himself with such energy into the 
 work crowded hard upon his hands. Myrtle, under 
 her brother's direction, and as Ruth Folger' s agent, 
 was a ministering angel in many an abode of misery, 
 a willing helper in charitable enterprises maintained 
 by the women of church and community. Her 
 ready tact, her gay spirits, her fulness of sympathy 
 and the winsomeness of manner and speech that 
 were a peculiar and gracious gift, cleared a path for 
 her wherever she went. Poor women confided in 
 her; little children flocked about her; the rudest of 
 the men she met in her walks and visits paid her 
 the tribute of a respectful demeanour and address. 
 
 "What have Una and her lion been about to- 
 day?" asked Dale one evening in the tete-a-Ute 
 which they kept up the pleasant fiction of calling 
 "waiting for Jack to come in." 
 
 Poor Jack ! whose comings and goings were now 
 as uncertain as they had once been methodical. 
 The chances were even that they would have to go 
 into supper without him, although Mrs. Bowersox
 
 "Lovef My Love/' 219 
 
 would hold back the meal as long as she dared run 
 the risk of culinary ruin. 
 
 "As for Miss Bell and the doctor, it was a miracle 
 that the poor dears were not starved every night 
 waiting sometimes until half-past eight without a 
 mouthful they were that loath to sit down to table 
 without Mr. Bell poor man!" 
 
 The brace of poor dears meanwhile, fed as upon 
 heavenly manna, recked not of the lateness of the 
 hour, of over-done meats, over-boiled coffee, and 
 fallen muffins. Whether they were apart or to- 
 gether, the catholicon of Love, like a viewless at- 
 mosphere, was around them. The overwrought 
 physician had grown ten years younger in ten days ; 
 the girl who had been comely with freshness of 
 youth and high spirits, was beautiful in other eyes 
 as well as in those feasting themselves this even- 
 ing upon her brilliant bloom, the spirited play of 
 feature and expression, the tender light shining 
 through all from a heart aglow with love and 
 happiness. 
 
 By common consent John was their only confidant. 
 The expediency of secrecy was obvious. 
 
 "That much," Myrtle had said decidedly, "is due 
 to the proprieties which Egbert takes to himself 
 credit for 'conserving.' (The phrase is his patent.) 
 If the gossips get hold of the truth, I shall be 
 obliged to leave the house or he will. By all 
 means let us go on with our 'conservation, ' which 
 must not be confounded with conservatism. That is 
 not in this little affair ! I shall go northward in 
 April, when uncle and aunt come back to the East. 
 Dr. Dale will follow me, and after a few days re- 
 turn to Pitvale, the poorer for the purchase of a 
 modest diamond ring, as befits his moderate means, 
 and the sisterhood of gossips, with the Meagleys as 
 f uglewomen, will ' take up the wondrous tale. '
 
 220 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Voilct the triumph of conservation ! As Dickens 
 says of Mrs. Fielding's gloves, worn while she was 
 eating, ' Let us be genteel, or die ! ' ' 
 
 Among the countless subjects upon which she and 
 her lover were a unit in opinion was that they were 
 far happier for keeping their beautiful secret to 
 themselves. Mrs. Bowersox, albeit aunt-in-law to 
 five notorious scandalmongers, and sister-in-law to 
 their disappointed, acrimonious mother, had mas- 
 tered the art of minding her own business. She 
 talked a great deal, and apparently aimlessly. In 
 reality, her prattle was as guileless as that of a 
 yearling baby. 
 
 "Artfully artless!" Kate Meagley had said of it 
 to her sisters, after doing some vigorous and in- 
 effectual pumping. "That woman pushes truth-tell- 
 ing to a vice, yet you cannot draw what she does 
 not choose to tell out of her with a corkscrew." 
 
 The thumbscrew could not have forced the worthy 
 soul to equivocate, nor the rack wrung from her what 
 she thought belonged rightfully to another. If she 
 had suspicions and hopes of her own relative to the 
 handsome pair whose behaviour in her sight was as 
 frankly unembarrassed as it had been within a week 
 after their first meeting, she veiled these under a 
 motherly regard for their physical comfort and grate- 
 ful appreciation of their goodness to her boy. As 
 for her husband, he did not count. He was one of 
 the men who are thrown into society, as expletives 
 into conversation that would be quite as strong and 
 more elegant without them. Looking at Joachim's 
 nothing-in-particular face, and hearkening to his 
 insipid platitudes, one entered into the difficulty his 
 spouse had in "realising Jeff." 
 
 The plighted pair made much, in these halcyon 
 days, of the cherub who had enacted the Deus ex 
 machind in Egbert's wooing. The doctor took him
 
 "Love! My Love!' 221 
 
 along in fine weather when he drove into the coun- 
 try or about town upon professional calls ; Jeff and 
 Beautiful accompanied Miss Bell in her walks. The 
 little fellow was very dear to both of them. They 
 appreciated his mother's discretion, and were grate- 
 ful for Joachim's obtuseness, and were happy with 
 all their might. 
 
 "There is all the difference between an announced 
 engagement and ours ! that there is between the 
 hard gloss of a nectarine and the down of a ripe 
 peach," Myrtle had said, earlier in the waiting hour, 
 " or the same peach when washed and scrubbed. I 
 am glad we can enjoy our fruit an. naturel yet 
 awhile 
 
 " My dear boy ! you will be a kiln-dried peach if 
 you stay there any longer ! " 
 
 Dale had thrown himself upon the tiger-skin rug 
 that had been one of her gifts to her brother. He 
 was in the hottest glow of the fire; his head was 
 against the elbow of her chair, one arm lay across 
 her lap. 
 
 "I was frozen stiff this afternoon, and will need 
 an hour's baking at least to take the frost out of my 
 bones. I am never too hot. I have Southern blood 
 in my veins, you know." 
 
 "Jack told me that your parents were English, 
 but that a remote ancestor was Italian. There are 
 Greek lines in your face some of the best lines 
 there " tracing his profile playfully with one fin- 
 ger. " Your eyes have the softness, the depth, 
 sometimes the fire of the Italian. Your manner to 
 most people not to me is that of the high-bred 
 Englishman. Some day, when you are in the humour 
 for story-telling, you will give me the romance of 
 your life." 
 
 " Do you recollect the needy knife-grinder and his 
 ' Story ? Lord bless you, sir ! I have none ! ' " said
 
 222 Dr. Dale 
 
 Dale, lazily. "I am too comfortable just now to 
 set about doing anything. I am altogether content 
 
 ' Not to be doing, but to be ! ' 
 
 I want to be talked to, not to talk." 
 
 And then he put the question, " What have Una 
 and her lion been about to-day? " 
 
 "The lion look at him, Egbert! He actually 
 knows we are talking of him! If he goes on in- 
 creasing in intelligence, it will not be safe to talk 
 where he is," cried Myrtle, in pretended alarm. 
 
 Beautiful had raised his bron2e-red body from the 
 floor, on the other side of his mistress, and laid his 
 muzzle upon her knee, his eyes, golden in the fire- 
 gleam, winking lovingly at her. 
 
 Dale turned his lazy head to find the dog's within 
 two inches of it, and laughed. 
 
 "A study in comparative physiognomy for you," 
 he said, pulling one of the silky ears, "and, I 
 shrewdly suspect, not to my advantage. But I am 
 not jealous of you yet, old boy! She hasn't said 
 that you have a Greek profile, nor called you a 
 'peach;' that is, not in my hearing. There's no 
 telling what flatteries she may heap upon you in the 
 long days when I am off putting broken bodies to- 
 gether, and saving lives that are of no value to the 
 owners or to anybody else. 
 
 "It 's a comfort to know that the lion goes 'pad! 
 pad ! pad ! ' at Una's side in Pig Alley and in back 
 streets that ought to have worse names. " 
 
 Raising himself to his knees, he took the dog's 
 face between his hands and studied the splendid 
 eyes, eloquent with the dumb agony of wistfulness 
 it makes a man's heart ache to see. 
 
 " You will take care of her for me won't you, 
 Beautiful ? You deserve your name, if ever a dog 
 did. Being a dog, you can be charitable to creat-
 
 "Love! My Love!' 223 
 
 ures that are not as honest and straightforward and 
 single-minded and faithful as you. Tell her for 
 she says she can guess what you are thinking of 
 tell her that men are a bad lot, and that I have been 
 no exception to the rest. That her sweet, clean 
 imagination (that's one thing dogs haven't got 
 imagination !) cannot know how bad I could and 
 would be, but for the hope of having her for my 
 very own some day. Tell her that she can make 
 and keep me good, she, and nothing else. And 
 when she is quite sure of all that you will know 
 it by her eyes, I always do ! say that before that 
 blessed * some day ' some time when she has eight 
 or ten hours to spare, and a whole heartful of sym- 
 pathy, and a tank as big as the moat around 'The 
 Ruth,' brimming with womanly charity, at call I 
 shall tell her the whole history of my life (but there 
 was no romance in it until I saw her !) from A to Z, 
 with an Amperzand thrown in for good measure. 
 
 " Why, Beautiful ! that 's a tear on my hand, and 
 from an angel's eyes ! " 
 
 With a gesture of passionate adoration he raised 
 both arms and drew the face, shining through a rain 
 of happy tears, down to his. 
 
 The blissful silence was broken by a diversion at 
 once startling and absurd. 
 
 Beautiful, seeing himself swept aside as a forfeited 
 pawn from a chess-board, withdrew from rug and 
 fire, the offended hauteur of his earlier incarnation in 
 full possession, and stalked majestically to a distant 
 window in the most dismal part of the room. There, 
 regardless of the fact that the outer shutters were 
 closed, he arose upon his hind legs, his forepaws on 
 the sill, and feigned to stare intently into the garden, 
 until such time as he considered the love-making 
 ought to be over. Becoming impatient at the vari- 
 ance of opinions on this head, he elevated his nose
 
 224 Dr. Dale 
 
 vertically, and emitted a blended whine and howl, 
 so shrill of pitch, so doleful in meaning, that Myrtle 
 clapped her hands to her ears and Dale looked 
 around, half laughing, half angry. 
 
 " For heaven's sake, stop that ! Come here, sir ! " 
 
 As the dog obeyed, reluctant and melancholy, the 
 doctor drew him toward him gently by the ears. 
 
 " His eyes are positively green with jealousy ! " he 
 cried. " With dangerous red lights in them ! See 
 here, old fellow ! be philosophical and submit to the 
 inevitable. You look as if you would like to do me 
 an ill turn. Don't you know a friend when you see 
 him? What do you take me for? A kidnappper ? 
 or a sneak thief ? " 
 
 Myrtle interposed, 
 
 " Give him time ! The Marquis has antiquated 
 ideas as to les convenances, notions of his own as to 
 the conservation of proprieties. There ! dear ! " kiss- 
 ing the beauty spot between the imploring eyes, " I 
 love you just as much as ever and a little more ! 
 
 "Did I ever tell you " beginning to laugh at the 
 recollection " of the fright he cost me the week 
 after you gave him to me ? You know he has what 
 Jack calls ' his cat-er-war-ling yell ' because it is 
 never used unless he sees a cat. It is something ter- 
 rific, a grand, intolerable combination of screech- 
 owl, panther, and hysena. I had never heard it, no 
 cats happening to be about, when, about dusk on 
 the evening of that day, I was sitting here, feeling a 
 bit lonely for Jack. I did n't know you well enough 
 then to suspect that I might be missing you too. 
 There came a tap at the door. ' Come in ! ' said I, 
 without moving, for I supposed it was Mrs. Bower- 
 sox, when enter Miss Kate Meagley, come to pay 
 her first call. 
 
 " Beautiful gave his ear-splitting caterwaul, and 
 sprang at her. I caught him by the collar just in
 
 "Love! My Love!' 225 
 
 time to hold him back from her throat, and had to 
 box his ears hard before he would be quiet. Miss 
 Kate nearly fainted upon the chair nearest the door. 
 She thought me 'very brave to keep such a creature 
 about, but I impressed her as a person of phenomenal 
 nerve.' Beautiful does n't like to hear me talk of 
 that afternoon," stroking the abashed head he sank 
 upon his paws. " He knows now how foolish it 
 was to mistake a nice young lady in a silk-and-cloth 
 ' costume ' and white gloves stitched with lavender, 
 for a sleek, sly, treacherous feline animal. If I were 
 to pronounce c a t in that energetic tone, he would 
 be up and at the door to look out for one of his 
 natural enemies." 
 
 "Good dog! sensible dog! "said Dale, heartily. 
 " Give us your paw ! The Marquis is an authority 
 upon metempsychosis. A fascinating study that ! 
 but not without danger to the unguarded learner." 
 
 "Egbert " hesitatingly. 
 
 " Say on, my darling ! " 
 
 " We you and I don't gossip, you know " 
 
 " Never ! Allah be praised ! " 
 
 " But would you mind telling me why Ruth Folger 
 does n't see through that woman ? The one is all 
 frankness, purity, and goodness; the other " 
 
 " Don't try to put it into words, love ! I know her 
 better than you do. Miss Folger may know her 
 better than both of us put together. I incline to 
 think, however, that she has faith in Miss Meagley's 
 professions of devotion to herself, and will not dwell 
 upon faults she cannot help seeing. You may not 
 know that both of them fell into my hands the night 
 they were rescued from the raft ? Miss Folger was 
 frightfully injured ; Miss Meagley very slightly, al- 
 though she was prostrated by the shock and by the 
 almost certainty that the rest of her family were 
 drowned. At daybreak Miss Folger begged to see 
 
 '5
 
 226 Dr. Dale 
 
 her. I was afraid the excitement would be too much 
 for her, and said so. She insisted, and we brought 
 Miss Meagley to her bedside. I could not leave my 
 patient for fear she would sink without continual care, 
 and I had to witness the interview. Then and there 
 Miss Folger promised that the orphan should have a 
 home with her, and a sister's loving care so long as 
 they both should live or so long as Miss Meagley 
 could be happy with her. 
 
 " You know how Miss Folger keeps her pledges, 
 and with all her faults and foibles, I believe Miss 
 Meagley to be sincerely attached to her benefactress." 
 
 Something in his tone a cadence of reserve, 
 slight, but impassive dissuaded further catechising. 
 
 Myrtle's hesitation in continuing the discussion 
 verged upon timidity so foreign to her temperament 
 and habit that she shook it off impatiently. 
 
 " Do you know," glancing brightly at his grave 
 face, " I was mortally jealous of Kate Meagley 
 once?" 
 
 His smile was incredulous ; the slight shake of the 
 head declined to admit the possibility. He raised one 
 little hand to his lips and held it there for an instant. 
 
 " I was ! " persisted Myrtle. " The night we dined 
 with the Folgers after what Jeff calls the 'Splosion 
 of the Wufe.' You two were so confidential at table, 
 and later in the evening in the drawing-room, that I 
 had a most disagreeable sensation in the region of 
 the heart. I had never seen a symptom of the flirt 
 in you before, and the experience was n't pleasant. 
 Neither you nor the Middle Miss Meagley had eyes 
 or ears for anybody else for me, least of all or 
 so I fancied 
 
 " Oh, Egbert ! don't look so solemn ! You frighten 
 me ! " 
 
 He was holding her hands fast and reading her 
 eyes with his ; every feature was earnest and fixed.
 
 "Love! My Love/ 9 227 
 
 " Dear ! " he said, presently, tenderly and seriously. 
 " Am I demanding too much of you when I say that 
 you must trust me through and through, however 
 appearances may set against me ? This is but one 
 of many instances when you may see and hear things 
 to puzzle you, and which I cannot explain at once to 
 your satisfaction. Some of them I may never be able 
 to explain. But I am I shall be faithful to you 
 through all, and in spite of everything." 
 
 She had slipped one hand from his grasp and now 
 laid it over his mouth. Her cheeks glowed; her 
 eyes were bright. 
 
 " As if I could doubt you ! Not another syllable 
 or we may quarrel in dead earnest. All the Kate 
 Meagleys that ever lived are not worth one sad 
 thought or word of yours or mine. 
 
 " Now I shall go to the piano, and charm away 
 the dark spirit." 
 
 " It is already exorcised and forever ! But your 
 music is always a joy. 
 
 " The rose-leaf upon the full cup," he subjoined, 
 passing a fond hand over her head, when she was 
 seated at the piano. " The figure is trite. The 
 reality is a glorious novelty to me ! " 
 
 He went back to the arm-chair set for him every 
 evening at the corner of the hearth. 
 
 Just so he had sat and listened to her playing on 
 the bleak evening could it be only two months 
 ago? when the piano was brought home. 
 
 Just so in seeming ! A slow smile of ineffable 
 content, of fulness of joy he could not have uttered, 
 illumined his face; delicious languor, that had in 
 it naught of weariness, stole over him. These were 
 the green pastures, these the still waters of the Eden 
 he had never thought to enter. The rippling music 
 was like the flow of the River of Life. 
 
 They had had other twilight hours together, when
 
 228 Dr. Dale 
 
 she had played and he had listened, and the two had 
 dreamed silently and aloud. Something set this 
 apart for them, even then, as the perfect pearl of 
 calm delight, a season that was to be wrought into 
 the pattern of their lives, to become an integral part 
 of themselves. 
 
 " Sing ! " murmured Dale, by and by, " ' Between 
 the Lights.' " 
 
 It was an especial favourite with Myrtle. But, as 
 she told him the first time he heard it, she chose 
 her audience carefully when she sang it. She had 
 not let him hear it until they were betrothed. She 
 had never rendered it with such exquisite tenderness, 
 such a passion of pathos, as she breathed into it 
 to-night : 
 
 " Love ! my Love ! the sunset splendour 
 
 Left the world an hour ago ; 
 The maiden moon, all shy and slender, 
 
 Swooning in the fervid glow. 
 'Neath curtains drawn, the earth is listing 
 
 The wooing sibilants of the sea ; 
 O'er land and wave, to keep our trysting, 
 
 Your constant spirit speeds to me. 
 
 " Love ! my Love ! at twilight musing, 
 
 Apart and lone, save for your dream, 
 Memory Past and Present fusing 
 
 Into one swift, shining stream : 
 Leagues by hundreds numbered parted 
 
 From eyes wan with watching vain ; 
 You, O leal and single-hearted ! 
 
 Answer, throb for throb, my pain. 
 
 " Love ! my Love ! weird fancies thronging, 
 
 As the south winds crisp the sea ; 
 Hope and dreading, joy and longing, 
 
 Have their minor tone for me. 
 Yours may be GOD'S calm Forever, 
 
 Safe from touch or jar of Fate, 
 Far as star-sown depths can sever 
 
 From me who expect and wait.
 
 "Love! My Lovef 229 
 
 " Love ! my Love ! in purple drifting, 
 
 Summer dusk the valley fills ; 
 To the bending skies uplifting 
 
 Reverent brows, rise altared hills. 
 By the meaning hush of even, 
 
 By the mirrored deep in deep 
 Be your bourn or earth or heaven, 
 
 I know our promised tryst you keep ! " 
 
 Before Dale knew that the singer had left the 
 piano-stool she had stolen noiselessly behind him 
 and dropped a kiss upon his hair. 
 
 " Love ! my Love ! " she whispered.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE WOMAN IN BLACK 
 
 " Alas ! how easily things go wrong ! 
 A word unsung in a lover's song. 
 And there comes a mist and a blinding rain, 
 And life is never the same again." 
 
 ~W" ~T"NA and her lion fared forth, bright and 
 early, next morning. 
 
 A house had been engaged as a tem- 
 ^L^y porary day-nursery, pending the erection 
 of the substantial building planned by 
 Ruth Folger. A canvass of districts wherein women 
 lived who made the family living or eked out their 
 husband's wages by " going out for the day," to 
 wash, clean, or sew, was arranged by the working 
 sisterhood of John Bell's church. Certain streets 
 and byways on the skirts of the town, where rents 
 were cheaper than in thickly settled neighbourhoods, 
 were assigned, at her own request, to the pastor's 
 sister. 
 
 " I am fond of walking," she said. " The distance 
 is a recommendation, not an objection, and the 
 women who live there are just the sort who need the 
 benefits of the nursery. My laundress is one of 
 them, and there are several others who, I know, 
 come regularly into Pitvale to work. They must 
 leave their babies at home with neighbours, or with 
 older children. I shall be glad to have the privilege 
 of telling them that the little things will be better 
 cared for if they let us have them." 
 
 There had been heavy rains up the valley, and a 
 sudden rise of temperature had melted the mountain
 
 The W^oman in Black 231 
 
 snows. The creek usually a tame, tortuous affair 
 that took its time in attending to its regular business, 
 and never concerned itself with the affairs of others 
 looked like a convulsed yellow serpent, as it tore 
 between high banks, overflowed low shores, and bit 
 wickedly at fences and houses built incautiously near 
 its normal limits. The meadows were black with wet, 
 the soaked hills were sullen under a bluish-slaty sky, 
 crossed at languid intervals by gray wreaths of cloud. 
 
 As Myrtle paused on the top of a hill to the north 
 of the town to note effects that suggested a world in 
 second mourning, she saw that, by some peculiar 
 law of refraction, the motley-hued clump of villas 
 beyond the intervening depression seemed to be less 
 than half their real distance from her. The main 
 town was wrapped in dreary shadows ; the flags upon 
 the Club House and in the grounds of the Folger 
 mansion clung sluggishly to the poles ; the red, white, 
 and blue were sharp dashes of colour in the general 
 dulness of tint. The odour of oil was all-pervasive 
 and pungent; the shriek of a locomotive two miles 
 away was as clearly audible as the rumble of traffic 
 in the streets below, and the puffing of the hundred 
 engines drawing oil from the bosom of the sullen 
 hills. 
 
 While the young lady was remarking the variations 
 from the ordinary aspect of the landscape, she heard 
 a shrill shout behind her that presently divided itself 
 into her own name. 
 
 " Miss Bell ! Me-e-ess Bel-l-l f" 
 
 A diminutive figure was racing toward her from a 
 side-street, followed by a woman who made frantic 
 dives to seize the flying coat-skirts. 
 
 Beautiful bounded off to meet the new-comers, 
 snatching a votive wisp of hay from the roadside in 
 his rapid transit. Myrtle awaited his return with his 
 convoy of Jeff and Gretchen.
 
 232 Dr. Dale 
 
 The maid had been into town on a marketing ex- 
 pedition, taking the child along " for a walk." Catch- 
 ing sight of Miss Bell and her dog from the bottom 
 of the hill, the young master had " fair run the feet 
 off of" his nominal guardian in the effort to overtake 
 them. 
 
 " You can go on, Gretchen," said Myrtle. " I will 
 see that he gets home all right. I thought of taking 
 him with me, this morning, but was afraid I was 
 going too far." 
 
 " I walked two whole miles oncet ! " retorted the 
 pained infant. " Dr. Dale tooked me to visit everan- 
 eversomany sick folks, and he said it was all of two 
 miles. My legs are awful strong. I have n't never 
 broked any of them! " 
 
 " Good ! " encouragingly, " some day we will walk 
 two whole miles together, you and I." 
 
 Jeff cast a side-ray at her oblique and suspicious. 
 
 " You won't never forget it, will you ?" 
 
 " Jeff! have I ever forgotten anything I promised 
 to do for you ? " 
 
 " No-o-o ! " conceded the immature pessimist. 
 " But there is them that does ! There 's Uncle Meag- 
 ley, now ! He promised me honest-truly, blackan- 
 bluely, he 'd give me fifty cents as soon as he got 
 ten thousand dollars, and he did n't do it. No, madam ! 
 not a cent of it ! " 
 
 " Because he has not got the ten thousand dollars. 
 I would forget all about it if I were you." 
 
 " Ten thousand ! You bet he 's got as much as ten 
 hundred in the bank this minute ! He 's just too stingy 
 to pay his debts. Anneke says Uncle Meagley 's ' a 
 bit dotty.' What does dotty' mean, Miss Bell?" 
 
 Before the amused listener could reply she felt a 
 touch on her shoulder, and a voice said in her very 
 ear, so close to her that she shrank from the breath 
 that carried the words,
 
 The Woman in Black 233 
 
 " Will you please, ma'am, tell me where Dr. Dale 
 lives?" 
 
 The speaker was a woman dressed plainly in black. 
 From her speech and appearance it was easy to see 
 that she was from the country, even without the evi- 
 dence of a large carpet-bag, swollen with packages of 
 divers shapes and tied about with a rope, which she 
 held in her left hand. Her black straw hat was 
 trimmed with crape, and a touzled crape veil hung 
 on one side to her shoulder. She was scrawny of 
 figure, and sallow of complexion, with deep-set black 
 eyes as round, and seemingly as hard, as beads. A 
 black woollen glove was on the hand that carried the 
 carpet-bag. The other, with which she had touched 
 the young lady, was bare, roughened by labour and 
 chapped by the cold. 
 
 Made keenly observant by the surprise of the en- 
 counter, Myrtle took in these details at a glance, 
 divining immediately that this was a country patient, 
 or that she wished to secure medical attendance for 
 some one else. Dr. Dale's was a potent name to 
 conjure with in an area of fifty miles up and down 
 the valley. 
 
 " If you will walk on with us, I will point out his 
 office to you in a few minutes," she answered with 
 ready friendliness. " If you are a stranger in the 
 place, I should hardly be able to direct you in any 
 other way." 
 
 " Thank ye, ma'am ! I Ve never been here before. I 
 come in on the cars that got to the deepo at ten 
 o'clock. I Ve been walking ever since." 
 
 " You have come a good deal out of your way. 
 Almost any one at the station or on the street could 
 have showed you a more direct route to Dr. Dale's 
 office. Everybody knows him." 
 
 " I was 'fraid to ask. You never know what tricks 
 folks may play on a person when they see she 's from
 
 234 Dr. Dale 
 
 the country. But seeing you with the little boy and 
 hearing him talk so free to you, I thought you were 
 respectable and you looked real kind-like." 
 
 She stole a furtive glance at the clear, bright face 
 smiling upon her. 
 
 " I hope I am respectable, and I try to be kind." 
 Myrtle struggled with her perception of the humour 
 of the situation. " But I don't think anybody in Pit- 
 vale would have given you the wrong direction to a 
 doctor's office. There are kind people everywhere, 
 a great many good, kind people in Pitvale." 
 
 The board sidewalk was hardly wide enough for 
 the three to walk abreast comfortably, particularly as 
 the carpet-bag was broader than the bearer, who fell 
 to the rear in going down the hill. Jeff, holding 
 tightly to Miss Bell's hand, kept twisting his head 
 around to scrutinise the stranger, scraping his toes 
 on the warping boards, and once catching his foot in 
 a crack, and swinging quite around, only keeping his 
 balance by clutching at Myrtle's gown. 
 
 " Jeff ! dear boy ! look where you are going ! " she 
 admonished him. " Good walkers always do." And 
 in a sub-tone, < Don't stare, dear ! It is not polite ! " 
 
 Half-way down the hill they met the Folger T-cart 
 coming up, a smart affair, drawn by a powerful roan 
 horse. The panels shone, the plated harness glit- 
 tered ; the big horse carried his head up and stepped 
 high. Kate Meagley, in a spruce blue gown braided 
 with red, a sailor hat with a red wing on one side, 
 perched atop of her bebanged hair, was driving. 
 She sat bolt upright, holding her whip in coachman- 
 like style. Harriet was in the seat behind her sister, 
 a natty groom was on the back rundle. 
 
 Kate nodded superciliously from her elevation to 
 the party on the sidewalk. 
 
 " Sorry you 're going the wrong way ! I 'd give you 
 a lift ! " she called out airily.
 
 The Woman in Black 235 
 
 The countrywoman stopped short and stared after 
 the equipage ; her beady eyes were sharply suspicious. 
 
 " You 're sure you know where Dr. Dale lives ? " 
 she queried abruptly of her conductor. 
 
 " Certainly ! " amazed at the accent and look. 
 " We shall be in sight of the office in a minute." 
 
 The other fell back, muttering something that 
 sounded like " A person can't be too careful," pro- 
 nouncing the last word " keerful." 
 
 A light dawned upon the guide. 
 
 " She has doubts of my respectability ! " she re- 
 flected gleefully. " She probably never saw a T-cart 
 before, or a woman playing smart coachman, and a 
 groom in livery holding on behind. She judges me 
 by my acquaintances. It is n't an adventure I 'd care 
 to speak of to Egbert, but Jack and I will have a 
 jolly laugh over it. What would Kate Meagley say? " 
 
 Her face was alight with the fun of the idea when 
 she turned to say to the woman in black, 
 
 " Do you see that buff-coloured house down there, 
 on the left-hand side of the street ? The house with 
 a large elm-tree before it ? When you get to it, you 
 will see Dr. Dale's name on the door-plate. I think 
 you will have no trouble in finding the place. Good- 
 morning ! " 
 
 "I'm mightily obleeged to you," was the reply. 
 
 The dubious look had not passed away ; her eyes 
 ran curiously over the lithe figure, passing to the 
 child and then to the dog. Beautiful, aware that he 
 was an object of distrust, assumed his grandest air, 
 and gazed with fine unconcern at a derrick in the 
 middle distance. 
 
 " Maybe you know him ? " interrogated the stran- 
 ger, the round black eyes returning to Miss Bell. 
 
 " Dr. Dale? There are few people in Pitvale who 
 do not know him by sight, at least. Good-day, 
 again. Come, Jeff! "
 
 236 Dr. Dale 
 
 She walked on more briskly than before, her chin 
 level, a glint in her eyes the provincial stranger did 
 not see. It was one thing to direct a patient to a 
 physician ; it was quite another thing to discuss her 
 betrothed with a person with whom she could have 
 nothing in common. 
 
 Jeff, as usual, had a diversion of the best quality on 
 tap. 
 
 " How do you s'pose that lady broked her finger 
 off? " he asked, looking backward, as one fascinated 
 by what he had seen. 
 
 " Was her finger broken off? I did not notice it." 
 
 " Broked off. Or cut off with a knife. Or, maybe, 
 a naxe. I should n't be s'prised if it was bited off. 
 By a lion, I fink. Like this ! " designating the final 
 joint of his little finger. " The last end of it was 
 clean gone. 'T was her hand that had n't any glove 
 on it. Likely she 's got the piece in her pocket, and 
 is going to get Dr. Dale to sew it on again. 'T was n't 
 a bit bloody, though. It looked all mended over. I 
 'spect she did it week before last, maybe." 
 
 The subject was too nearly involved with thoughts 
 of his own many misadventures for him to get away 
 from it easily. He twisted his head about again, as 
 he trotted at his companion's side. 
 
 " She 's gone straight into the office ! I 'm going 
 to ask Dr. Dale all about her to-night." 
 
 " Indeed you must not ! " returned Myrtle, emphat- 
 ically. " Never talk to doctors about people who go 
 to them to be cured or mended. It is not right for 
 a doctor to tell who has been sick and who has been 
 hurt. People don't like to have such things told." 
 
 " / don't care who knows about me ! " in modest 
 pride. 
 
 " All people are not like you. So, dear, we will 
 not say a word to Dr. Dale of the lady we saw just 
 now."
 
 'The W^oman in Black 237 
 
 The silenced, if unconvinced, Jeff was not tempted 
 to disobey the injunction that day. Dr. Dale did not 
 appear at dinner-time, nor had he been heard from 
 when John Bell granted himself the rare treat of a 
 ride with his sister in the afternoon. 
 
 Ruth Folger had put a saddle-horse at Myrtle's 
 disposal as soon as the rigour of the winter abated 
 somewhat, and Ralph urged John to exercise a 
 blooded mare her master was fabled to keep for his 
 especial pleasure, 
 
 " When, in point of fact, I have mounted her but 
 three times in a month. I should n't have done it 
 then if Miss Bell hadn't been kind enough to go 
 with me. The creature is as gentle as a robin, and as 
 swift as a swallow when you want to go. You '11 
 do me a favour if you keep her from getting stale or 
 skittish, standing in the stable." 
 
 " I 'm sorry Egbert did not come home to dinner," 
 said Myrtle, regretfully, as they walked their horses 
 out of the Bowersox gate. " Ruth has written to ask 
 me to dine and spend the evening with her. Her 
 brother is in Philadelphia, and Kate Meagley will be 
 at her father's. I so seldom have Ruth all to myself 
 for a whole evening that I have promised to go. Eg- 
 bert intends to look in upon the Choral Union re- 
 hearsal to-night, I know, but he will be in to supper, 
 I suppose, and will expect to see me." 
 
 "We'll ride by his office and post him up as to 
 your plans," proposed John. " He'll be glad to have 
 even a glimpse of you. He ought to be thankful for 
 the privilege. You are always at your best and pret- 
 tiest in the saddle." 
 
 " I may return the compliment with interest," re- 
 torted the sister, eyeing the superb figure beside her 
 in loving pride. " I can't recollect the time when 
 I did not wish that Heaven had made me such a 
 man."
 
 238 Dr. Dale 
 
 " You have done better for yourself, pet. Dale is 
 a better-looking and a far more brilliant man than 
 your brother can ever hope to be. Every day proves 
 to me how well suited you are to one another." 
 
 Myrtle turned her face aside. Not even Jack must 
 see the rise of the sweet, warm moisture through 
 which she saw road, trees, and houses as through a 
 prism. 
 
 Was ever another woman so blest in the double 
 devotion of brother and lover? Where, in all the 
 wide, beautiful world, was there another girl whose 
 every desire was so abundantly satisfied? 
 
 The world, that afternoon, was not beautiful to eyes 
 unanointed with the oil of gladness. The blue-grays 
 that had predominated in the morning were now a 
 baleful purple. The breeze had swooned into a calm 
 that oppressed the lungs and the senses. Sounds 
 that were painfully distinct in the earlier hours of the 
 day were mixed and dulled into a troubled murmur, 
 a groaning together of labour and traffic ; the air was 
 strangely sultry for mid-March, yet not humid. 
 
 John pointed out to his sister a flock of crows hov- 
 ering evilly over the muddied, tawny waters of the 
 swollen creek. 
 
 " That looks as if the freshet had done harm to 
 stock up the country," he said. " I have not seen 
 the creek out so far since the dam broke. That gave 
 me a new conception of the meaning of the phrase, 
 ' the letting out of waters.' " 
 
 They were still talking of the casualty when they 
 drew rein at Dr. Dale's door. John alighted, handed 
 his bridle to Myrtle, and went in. The doctor met 
 him in the hall. They exchanged a few words, and 
 came out together, Dale without his hat. 
 
 Myrtle leaned from the saddle to speak to her be- 
 trothed, her brother lingering discreetly on the steps. 
 
 As John had said, she was at her prettiest on horse-
 
 The Woman in Black 239 
 
 back. Heat and exercise had brought the rich blood 
 to her cheeks ; the eyes bent upon the man of her 
 heart shone softly ; her smile was happy and loving. 
 The dark brown habit fitted perfectly; the jaunty 
 silk hat became her rarely. 
 
 A shadow fell upon the sparkling face as she 
 looked more closely at her lover. 
 
 "You are pale and tired!" she said in tender 
 reproach. " I don't believe you have had a mouth- 
 ful to eat since breakfast naughty boy! You are 
 working yourself to death ! " 
 
 " I telephoned for a luncheon-tray from the Club." 
 
 His voice was unresonant, his eyes were dreary. 
 She could have believed that they had sunken more 
 deeply under the brows since she had looked iitfo 
 them, seven hours before. He looked past her in 
 speaking. 
 
 " I have had a hard day and a hard headache. 
 That accounts for much. And I cannot get home 
 until late to-night. That accounts for more " meet- 
 ing her eyes now, and smiling faintly. 
 
 " It will mean less to me because I shall not be 
 there myself until ten o'clock, or maybe later," Myrtle 
 began her explanation by saying. 
 
 He listened attentively, nodding his satisfaction as 
 she concluded. 
 
 " That 's all right ! I saw Miss Folger this morn- 
 ing, and she told me she had invited you. Have a 
 cosey evening with her, and don't fret your sweet 
 soul over my nasty headache and more hateful pre- 
 occupation. I 'm not worth it ! I hope you '11 have 
 a pleasant ride. Don't get overheated ! This is 
 most unseasonable weather. Good-by ! " 
 
 He took the bridle of John's horse from her, and 
 passed it to her brother, stepping back to the side- 
 walk to do it, without offering to touch her hand. 
 
 She knew why when she saw, over the clouded wire
 
 240 Dr. Dale 
 
 blind filling the lower sash of the window in the 
 private office, the face of the woman she had directed 
 to him in the forenoon. 
 
 The black hat and veil had been laid aside ; the 
 hair, strained back tightly from her face, showed a 
 narrow forehead and hollowed temples. The beady 
 eyes surveyed the group without as sharply as they 
 had looked from T-cart and occupants to Myrtle. 
 Egbert was the last man in the world to parade an 
 intimacy before a curious spectator. 
 
 " Au revoir f" cried the girl, gaily, waving her whip 
 as they struck into a lively canter. 
 
 " Dale looks fagged ! " observed John, solicitously. 
 " And what wonder ! He has enough laid upon him 
 to break down six ordinary men. Fortunately, he is 
 not an ordinary man, in any sense of the word." 
 
 When the Middle Miss Meagley elected to pass an 
 evening in the bosom of her family, they sat in the 
 front parlour, where a fire was kindled in her honour. 
 As she was not backward in reminding her nearest ol 
 kin, but for her they would all be in the poorhouse. 
 
 " Since I have got to pay for the coal, I don't 
 mean to be cooped up in that wretched hole of a 
 back-room," she gave them to understand, " with Pa 
 making a fool of himself before my eyes, and nothing 
 to be seen from the windows but the back-yard and 
 clothes-lines, and the backs of common peoples' 
 houses and a cat or two on the fence." 
 
 Her consequence was fully recognised by her 
 beneficiaries. They toadied her, served her, and 
 obeyed her slavishly. She was to them the em- 
 bodied essence of victuals and drink, home and 
 clothes. In her and by her and through her they 
 stood. Without her they would fall, and exist no 
 more as reputable householders, who they supposed 
 that other people supposed " lived on their money."
 
 The W^oman in Black 241 
 
 The despot had expressed her intention to Harriet 
 that forenoon of supping with " mother and the 
 girls," and passing the evening with them. The 
 monthly accounts were to be audited by her, and 
 other items of business attended to by the head of 
 the family, and neighbourhood affairs to be set to 
 rights generally. "Mother and the girls" were 
 " dressed up " to receive her ; everything was in 
 apple-pie order ; there would be waffles for supper, 
 compounded according to the celebrated Bowersox 
 formula, with broiled chicken, fried potatoes, and 
 three kinds of cake, not counting crullers. 
 
 The vanity of the Middle Miss Meagley, con- 
 founded by her with her virgin affections, had had 
 a blow recently. She had a wild disposition to 
 trample upon somebody or somebodies while the 
 smart was fresh in her mind. The instinct 'of the 
 wounded bully to choose the most defenceless victims 
 he can think of upon which to wreak his wrath, 
 directed her to the parental abode. 
 
 She was set down at the porch paid for with Mrs. 
 Bowersox's money, at half-past three, alighting from 
 the carriage with the assured grace of the owner of 
 the handsome turnout. When her wraps were re- 
 moved, she was inducted into the softest of the 
 figured plush chairs ; a cushion supported feet encased 
 in such boots as none of her sisters could afford to 
 wear. She looked luxurious, and she felt cruel. 
 The chair was set at an easy angle of incidence to the 
 front window. Five votaries were gathered about 
 her, ready to catch crumbs, or crusts, or mayhap 
 cuffs. 
 
 The French clock under the bell-glass on the 
 mantel sounded four feeble strokes as the Bells 
 passed on horseback, neither of them, as Levina 
 cynically remarked, " taking the trouble to look to- 
 ward the house." 
 
 16
 
 242 Dr. Dale 
 
 "The talk is that she will catch Ralph Folger 
 yet," said Mrs. Meagley, sourly. " D' ye think it 
 looks some like it, Katey dear?" 
 
 Kate's eyebrows were half-hoops; her upper lip 
 was shortened in a sneer. 
 
 . " It won't be her fault if she don't ! He 's cut his 
 eye teeth, to be sure, but it 's always on the cards that 
 any man may make a fool of himself. She 's the 
 fastest sort of a flirt. She '11 get her comeuppance 
 some day, if she has rope enough." 
 
 The rest of the domestic circle were in drill uni- 
 form as to speech and behaviour. Miss Katharine 
 was in fatigue undress. 
 
 "Ain't them two of the Folger horses?" was the 
 mother's next inquiry. 
 
 " Those are two of the Folger horses ! " with 
 monitory emphasis. 
 
 " Seems-to-me she 's gettin' very thick with Ruth, 
 too. I do hope and pray she won't cut you out 
 there ! " the tactless mother was left to herself 
 to say. 
 
 Kate smiled lofty and superior to the clumsily 
 worded fear. 
 
 " That would be awkward for some folks I could 
 name ! " cuttingly. " But we 're wasting time gos- 
 siping ! Before it gets dark, I '11 look over those 
 bills." 
 
 The bills had been examined, criticised and dis- 
 missed with cautions against future extravagances, 
 and the censor lay back upon her throne, taking no 
 pains to conceal her ennui, when Harriet's exclama- 
 tion and rush window-ward drew the others after her 
 like a flock of pigeons at the scattering of a handful 
 of corn. 
 
 Between the sunflowers and daisies on the Notting- 
 ham lace curtains were peep-holes of figureless net, 
 through which the coterie took observations of Dr.
 
 The W^oman in Black 243 
 
 Dale walking up the street past their house, with a 
 woman none of them had ever seen before. 
 
 A woman clad in a black alpaca skirt and jacket, 
 a skirt that, as all agreed, was " miles too short and 
 hung anyhow," while the jacket " might have been 
 made by a blacksmith." 
 
 " Actually a round hat with a crape veil ! " tittered 
 Miss Julia. "Where do you suppose the creature 
 came from? " 
 
 " And however did she happen to be with him ? " 
 chimed in Harriet, who, next to Kate, had the lar- 
 gest peep-hole. "My! but don't he look high and 
 mighty alongside of her! And she's crying, as 
 sure 's you live ! See her wiping her eyes and blow- 
 ing her nose! Who can she be ? " 
 
 "Some countrified thing who is taking him to see 
 a sick person, and telling the symptoms on the way 
 faugh!" ejaculated magisterial Kate. "It's the 
 same woman Myrtle Bell had in tow this morning. 
 She was taking her to Dale then. She 's forever 
 hunting up that sort of case. It 's one of her ways 
 of making herself solid with rich men and so-called 
 charitable doctors. It 's a dodge that pays well." 
 
 "Can it be only five o'clock? " as the debilitated 
 bell overhead said its little say. 
 
 She consulted her watch. 
 
 "I declare that contemptible clock is right for 
 once! How long the days are getting! Somehow 
 the time drags more slowly in this house than it 
 does anywhere else upon the habitable globe!"
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE ELECTRIC STORM 
 
 1 1 have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 
 Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen 
 Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam. 
 
 But never till to-night never till now, 
 Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. 
 Either there is a civil strife in heaven, 
 Or else mankind, too heedless of the gods, 
 Incenses them to send destruction." 
 
 1 
 
 "<t HE tete-d-tete dinner was over, and the two 
 friends were back in Ruth's sitting-room. 
 "The Chamber that is called 'Peace,' " 
 Myrtle had named it. The aptness of 
 the title appealed to her imagination to- 
 night, when in the half-light of shaded electric 
 burners the white fluffiness of curtains and rugs and 
 the cool grays of walls and furniture suggested the 
 plumage of a dove, rest and tranquillity brooding, 
 like a holy presence, over the figures in the alcoved 
 window. It overlooked, as from a safe and downy 
 nest, the lights of the town, and, beyond these, the 
 hills surmounted by the twin derricks covering the 
 "big wells." 
 
 " Ralph calls this the ' nookiest corner of the 
 house,'" said his sister, reaching out an arm to 
 loosen the lace draperies behind them from their 
 loopings. 
 
 They fell slowly into straight folds, shutting down 
 like moonlit mists between them and the rest of the 
 room. 
 
 Ruth's movement was so active and so unexpected 
 that Myrtle had not time to forestall it.
 
 The Electric Storm 245 
 
 " Oh, take care ! " she ejaculated, " Why did n't you 
 ask me to do that ? You might have hurt yourself ! " 
 
 In the dim light she could see the beautiful smile 
 upon the other's face. 
 
 "I am practising such feats nowadays," said 
 Ruth, tranquilly. " For this is a secret for a 
 little while longer, dear! I am getting so much 
 stronger and less helpless that I begin to hope 
 Dr. Dale says I may expect to be able to walk one 
 day, Myrtle darling." 
 
 Myrtle was kneeling by her, kissing her hands, 
 her cheeks, her forehead, laughing and crying to- 
 gether, like a wild thing transported with joy. 
 
 " O my sweet ! my lily ! my wounded dove ! I am 
 so glad so grateful for you and for all of us ! It 
 is too blessed too beautiful to be true!" 
 
 "So I thought for a long time," went on the even 
 tones. " Sit down on this cushion, close by me, 
 and let me tell you how it happened. 
 
 " Three months ago the foot and leg we thought 
 were paralyzed began to get 'fidgety.' I haven't 
 any other word that will describe the feeling. I 
 had pricks and tinglings, such as I had never known 
 before, running up and down it and along the spine. 
 The masseuse Ralph ordered to be sent to me from 
 Paris before Christmas has treated me three times a 
 week ever since. She may have begun the good 
 work. She has much natural magnetism, or elec- 
 tricity, or whatever the gift of healing may be 
 called. For a long time I said nothing to anybody 
 except to her of these odd new sensations that grew 
 more active every day. I did not want to excite 
 hopes that might never be fulfilled. 
 
 "Then and this is the wonder of wonders on 
 the fourteenth of February, as I was sitting in the 
 carriage, looking up the hill when, for a moment, 
 it seemed as if Ralph had made a mistake in think-
 
 246 Dr. Dale 
 
 ing the well was not extinct and the people 
 laughed that horrid laugh something like an elec- 
 tric shock went all through me, then another, and 
 another, stronger and stronger, when the great ex- 
 plosion came. It was like what the cripple at the 
 Beautiful Gate of the Temple must have felt when 
 his feet and ankle-bones received strength. Only 
 the thrill and the strength went all down that 
 side of me. 
 
 " I could hardly keep from calling out to Dr. 
 Dale when he came to the carriage, and your 
 brother must have seen that I was labouring under 
 strong excitement. 
 
 " When we got home I told Kate. She was 
 almost beside herself with joy, and could hardly 
 wait until evening to take Dr. Dale into our confi- 
 dence. You may recollect that they had a great 
 deal to say to one another at table that night and 
 afterward. I did not trust myself to look at them 
 lest I should betray my consciousness of our great 
 secret. " 
 
 Myrtle pressed the slender hands, her eyes flash- 
 ing intelligent sympathy, her lips apart and quiver- 
 ing with smiles. 
 
 " I see it all now ! " she breathed excitedly. To 
 her heart she added : " O, my love ! my honourable 
 darling! This was what you could not speak of, 
 even to me!" 
 
 " For secret I insisted it must be until the won- 
 derful change was proved to be a certainty," Ruth 
 went on to say. " Dr. Dale came by appointment 
 the next afternoon, when I knew Ralph would be 
 out of the way. I made an errand that would take 
 poor Kate out of the house. She was quite un- 
 strung by the prospect of the examination and what 
 the verdict might be. No one was with me when 
 the doctor came except the masseuse. She helped
 
 'The Electric Storm 247 
 
 him. They have consulted every day since. Yes- 
 terday afternoon he called Ralph in and told him we 
 might hope for the best. 
 
 "The dear boy was completely overcome. I 
 thought I had known all along how much he loved 
 me. When he took me in his arms and fairly 
 sobbed, I felt that even I had never quite under- 
 stood him until that minute. He rushed off to 
 Philadelphia by the midnight train to see a maker 
 of artificial limbs, and to order a skilled workman 
 to be sent to Pitvale to measure me for a new foot." 
 
 She stopped to laugh, and Myrtle joined in. It 
 was a relief to touch upon the comic side of the 
 subject. 
 
 "He will be back to-night," continued Ruth, 
 "and may bring the man with him. You know 
 Ralph's energetic ways. I walked across the room 
 yesterday afternoon, leaning upon him on one side, 
 upon Dr. Dale on the other. It was like a miracle! 
 When they put me back in my chair, Dr. Dale 
 kissed my hand, in the graceful, half-foreign man- 
 ner he has at times, and I saw tears in his eyes. 
 
 " ' She may never be able to run races, ' he said. 
 ' There is no reason that I can see why she should 
 not walk comfortably by the help of a cane, or a 
 steady arm. ' 
 
 "And poor Ralph's voice broke as he said, 'My 
 arm will be at her service as long as I am above 
 ground, doctor ! ' 
 
 " How good they were to me ! Everybody has 
 been good to me always. The Father's goodness 
 and mercy have followed me all my days. The cry 
 of my heart is continually, ' What shall I render 
 unto Him for all His benefits toward me?' 1 
 
 The listener could not speak. She laid her wet 
 cheek upon the soft palm she was holding, and tears 
 did duty for language. Ruth stroked the bowed
 
 248 Dr. Dale 
 
 head with her free hand, murmuring endearing 
 phrases until the wave of feeling spent itself. 
 
 " What a weak baby I am ! what an unsatisfac- 
 tory creature altogether ! " cried Myrtle, petulantly, 
 dashing the clinging drops from her eyelashes, and 
 sitting upright resolutely. " But the surprise was 
 so sudden, and so passing sweet ! and we are all 
 going to be so happy together ! Pshaw ! there I go 
 again. Now I will be sensible ! " 
 
 "Not yet, please, dear! " With gentle force Ruth 
 pressed her confidante's head down again. "I have 
 more to say, and something harder to say than I 
 thought it would be. Something Kate does not 
 dream of, something I could not tell Ralph unless 
 he were well prepared beforehand. I cannot say it 
 to you if you look at me 
 
 "Myrtle darling! has your brother ever told 
 you " 
 
 It was a tremulous whisper, and the answer was 
 scarcely louder, 
 
 " No, dear ! But I have guessed it. " 
 
 As Ralph had done, she gathered the slight figure 
 in her strong young arms. Brown and fair heads 
 lay close together in the sisterly embrace. 
 
 Ruth found words first. The marvellous self- 
 control studied through years of suffering came to 
 her aid. She spoke low but clearly, and hesitated 
 no longer, 
 
 " We found it out, two years ago. He had saved 
 my life from the freshet and the fire at the risk of 
 his own. One day I was driving out and the coach- 
 man fell from the box in a fit. The horses ran 
 away. Mr. Bell was walking toward us and saw 
 what had happened. He dashed into the middle of 
 the road, seized the horses by the head and clung to 
 them until they stopped. You know how strong he 
 is. They dragged him some distance, and I called
 
 The Electric Storm 249 
 
 to him to let them go, that his life was more pre- 
 cious than mine. Kate was with me. She lay in a 
 dead faint in the carriage when he lifted me out and 
 carried me to a grassy bank. I told him to go back 
 for her. He would not. He had no thought for 
 anybody but me. Both of us said things in the ex- 
 citement of the minute we could not recall. 
 
 "The next day we talked it all over, solemnly and 
 calmly. He would have taken me as I was, a help- 
 less log. That was not what had kept him silent " 
 laughing low and merrily at the thought. " It seems 
 absurd that he should have been afraid of me as an 
 heiress. But he was ! I showed him that while the 
 money was less than nothing in my estimation, I 
 loved him too well I did not mind saying that when 
 I knew what must be! I loved him too well to tie 
 a clog about his neck. That I had long ago ac- 
 cepted the truth that what other women prized most 
 dearly, could never be mine. That I would be his 
 best and dearest friend as long as he was single 
 and his true friend forever. That is the way the 
 matter has stood ever since. 
 
 "Once just before you came, he disobeyed 
 orders and said, ' You are no longer an invalid. 
 My feelings are unchanged. There is but one 
 woman in the world for me.' 
 
 " I stopped him there. 
 
 " 'There is but one man in the world for me,' I 
 said. 'I think too much of him and of his work to 
 hamper him. His wife should be a helper, not a 
 burden.' When he would have said more, I would 
 not listen. 
 
 "Myrtle! Sister!" relaxing her hold upon herself 
 for an instant. " Do you wonder that I went mad 
 with joy at the idea of standing upright upon the 
 earth once more of walking at his side? Was it 
 wicked that, when Dr. Dale spoke of a steady arm,
 
 250 Dr. Dale 
 
 and Ralph dear old fellow! said I should have 
 his, I thought of another so steady ! so strong ! 
 
 " Ah, dear Lord ! " lifting her clasped hands. " To 
 think all this should come to me! Sometimes it 
 seems that I must die with the happiness of it!" 
 
 "Live for the happiness of it, sweet sister! How 
 lovely that sounds ! I always wanted a sister. I 
 never dared hope for such a one as you. It was not 
 for nothing that I fell in love with you at sight, and 
 have gone on loving you more and better every day 
 since. Dear Jack ! how brave and constant how 
 delicate and tactful he has been ! And to think of 
 your walking about with the best of us going 
 everywhere upon your own dear little feet! 
 
 " I suppose, " in whimsical perplexity, " it would n't 
 be quite the thing for a minister's bride to dance at 
 her own wedding?" 
 
 The ringing laughter that followed the transition 
 from the sentimental to the ridiculous startled whis- 
 pering echoes in the strange stillness that enveloped 
 them like a tangible atmosphere. 
 
 Without, the blue-black murk had grown so dense 
 that the lights of the town were dim specks; night- 
 sounds were muffled, as by falling snow; the air 
 was more sultry with each minute, until respiration 
 was an effort. 
 
 " If it were summer, I should say we were going 
 to have a thunderstorm," remarked Myrtle, a vague 
 uneasiness creeping over her as she observed phe- 
 nomena overlooked in the intense interest of the 
 conversation. "Do you often have such warm 
 weather at this season?" 
 
 " I don't recollect ever sitting with windows open at 
 
 night as early as March fourteenth, " began Ruth. 
 
 A blaze of purplish lightning illuminated trees, 
 
 lawn, and fences, the town in the hollow, and the 
 
 hills beyond the town. Before the startled girls
 
 The Electric Storm 251 
 
 could exclaim, a crash shook the heavens and the 
 earth. 
 
 The electric storm had broken, and they were in 
 the heart of it. 
 
 Simultaneously or so it seemed a pillar of 
 flame darted skyward from one of the twin hills. 
 
 "The Ruth! " cried the girls in one breath. 
 
 A wild sweep of rain and wind blurred the awful 
 conflagration for a few minutes. Through the floods 
 that deluged the window-panes, they saw, as it 
 were, a universe on fire. The lurid glare dyed the 
 clouds crimson, and rolled blood-red surges over the 
 face of the earth. 
 
 A babel of shouts and alarm-bells, the shriek of 
 fire-engines, the whistling of steam-pumps arose 
 upon the blast. As the brief passion of the tempest 
 abated, every feature of the scene became fearfully 
 distinct. The monster beacon light had not wav- 
 ered for gust or rain. It mounted, straight and 
 strong, shedding baleful gleams upon mountains 
 fifty miles away. 
 
 Ruth's maid and the masseuse had flown to her at 
 the first alarm. Half-a-dozen other servants pressed 
 into the room, the women hysterical, the men ask- 
 ing for orders. 
 
 The young mistress recovered outward compos- 
 ure at sight of their disorder. Her clear voice and 
 the sight of her peaceful face stilled their clamour. 
 
 "The new steel tank has been struck by light- 
 ning," she said. "You can do nothing until Mr. 
 Folger gets back. 
 
 "The judgment of Heaven?" as a weeping maid 
 sobbed the question. " By no means ! GOD has a 
 right to do as He pleases with His own." 
 
 A bustle about the entrance sent the terrified 
 crew flying in different directions, as they heard 
 their master's voice.
 
 252 Dr. Dale 
 
 The rain ran in rivulets from his shoulders and 
 hair; his face was as sunny as a May morning. 
 
 " I ran home for a minute to make sure you were 
 not scared, Ruthie," he began, by the time he was 
 in the room. "You here, Miss Bell ! That 's first- 
 rate! Couldn't be better! If I 'd known that, I 
 needn't have been uneasy about this little girl." 
 
 He stooped to kiss the face looking lovingly at 
 him flushed rosily, as was her white gown, by the 
 ruddy flare from the hilltop. 
 
 "How's that for a bonfire?" he ran on, shaking 
 hands with Myrtle, and motioning toward the win- 
 dow. "By George ! I can think of nothing but ' hell 
 with the lid off.' That 's what Jim Parton said of a 
 big blast furnace in Pittsburg. ' The Ruth ' goes 
 the whole figure every time. I 'm proud of her as a 
 patent burner of forty volcano power. 
 
 "Now, Ruth dear," in the gentle tone he always 
 used to her, "I 'm off to try an extinguisher of my 
 own devising upon your lively namesake. Luckily, 
 the cannon we used on February fourteenth has 
 never been taken away. It is under a shed close to 
 the Jumbo derrick. Big Sandy and some other fel- 
 lows have gone up there to train it full and square 
 upon the tank of ' The Ruth. ' A few solid shot will 
 tear a hole in the side that will let the oil run into 
 the moat from the bottom of the tank, where it has 
 not taken fire, and so exhaust the supply. When 
 the lamp is empty it will go out. We were going 
 to begin filling up the moat with earth to-morrow. 
 It 's well we had n't done it before. Good-by, and 
 don't worry! Everything will come out straight." 
 
 He rattled it off between short breaths, gave his 
 sister another hasty kiss, waved his hand gaily to 
 Myrtle, and was off like a whirlwind. 
 
 Ruth dismissed her two attendants, after charging 
 them with a message of reassurance to the servants.
 
 The Electric Storm 253 
 
 Then she and Myrtle awaited, suspensefully, the 
 result of the daring expedient. Towering columns 
 of flame were capped by volumes of smoke, inky- 
 black above, reddened fiercely underneath, spread- 
 ing, as they rolled upward, into a canopy that hid 
 the heavens. The hollow roaring of the burning 
 filled the ears, and even at that distance the odour 
 was rankly offensive. 
 
 The girls clasped each other's hands and gazed, 
 oppressed and dumb with awe, at the stupendous 
 sight. 
 
 Once Ruth said, " Heaven grant the heated plates 
 may not burst before the shot is fired ! The moat 
 could not stop a river of fire." 
 
 "The cannonade seems a desperate expedient to 
 me," ventured Myrtle. 
 
 " Ralph knows what he is doing ! " in confidence 
 nothing could shake. 
 
 It was but nine o'clock, and nobody was asleep in 
 Pitvale. Thousands of eyes were fixed upon the 
 group of men, blackly gigantic in the flaring blaze, 
 collected at the base of the Jumbo derrick. 
 
 The excitement was too intense for much talking, 
 but murmurs ran through the packed streets of what 
 had been done upon the two hills one month ago, 
 and of the marvel that the only thunderbolt of the 
 storm so unseasonable and so terrific as to be ac- 
 counted miraculous, had fallen just at that point, 
 and done such execution. 
 
 One crank, an assistant in Mr. Welsh's Mission, 
 mounted upon a barrel, and inveighed against the 
 "outrageous iniquity of interfering with the doings 
 of the Almighty. 
 
 " He has stored up oil in the bowels of the earth," 
 he vociferated, "to burn the world and the inhabi- 
 tants thereof at the last day, and woe ! woe ! woe ! to 
 the presumptuous worm of the dust who tries to
 
 254 Dr. Dale 
 
 thwart His decrees ! One woe is come, and six more 
 will follow unless the wicked in high places repent 
 and turn from their sins ! " 
 
 One of the Folger well-men kicked the barrel 
 from under the orator, and the crowd cheered hys- 
 terically as he pitched headforemost among them. 
 
 " There she goes ! " yelled fifty voices. 
 
 A spurt of blue flame, sicklied by the glare of the 
 burning tank, was the precursor of a burst of sound. 
 Another, and still a third shot followed, as fast as 
 the cannoneer could reload. Runners tore down the 
 hill to announce, that a big hole had been made in 
 the lower plates of the tank, and that cold, unlighted 
 oil was pouring by the hundred hogshead into the 
 moat. 
 
 A bellow of applause went up from the multitude. 
 
 "Bully for Folger! Three cheers and a tiger for 
 the smartest boss in America ! " 
 
 The intrepid little millionaire had scored another 
 and his greatest point. 
 
 By ten o'clock the mighty column of flame was 
 but a flicker on the top of the tank. 
 
 At eleven Ralph paid a second visit to his sis- 
 ter's sitting-room. This time John Bell was with 
 him. 
 
 "I met him as I was going out," reported the hero 
 of the night. " He was at my side when I ' fired the 
 shot heard round the world,' or a section of it. 
 
 " But I tell you that was a close call ! There was 
 enough oil in the tank to flood the town. And if it 
 had all taken fire! ugh! it's an ugly idea! That 
 cannon was what might be called a special Provi- 
 dence eh, Dominie?"
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 " THE RUTH " AT MIDNIGHT 
 
 " Neither is it safe to count upon the weakness of any man's un- 
 derstanding who is thoroughly possessed of the spirit of revenge to 
 sharpen his invention." 
 
 ^ ^RUE to her belief that the success of 
 what Ralph set out to do was a foregone 
 conclusion, Ruth Folger had ordered sup- 
 per to be made ready for serving at the 
 moment of his return home. The serene 
 self-poise that made her ever mindful of the wants 
 and wishes of those about her had also kept her 
 from forgetting that Kate Meagley was to be sent 
 for at ten o'clock. 
 
 The exemplary companion's agony of solicitude 
 for the object of her fondest regards, the friend who 
 must be undergoing untold tortures of anxiety and 
 alarm, had nearly tempted her to walk home in the 
 worst of the storm, this she poured out to Ruth 
 the moment she arrived, but her family would not 
 let her brave the danger of making her way on foot 
 and unattended, through the crowds choking every 
 street and byway. 
 
 Her gratitude to Heaven and to Miss Bell was feel- 
 ingly rendered : 
 
 " You are so cool-headed, so even of pulse, so 
 ready to say and do the right thing in the nick of 
 time, that you filled the place of comforter and 
 adviser far better than I could have done,'" she sighed, 
 pressing her hand to her palpitating heart and hang- 
 ing over Ruth with an elaborate assiduity of fussiness,
 
 256 Dr. Dale 
 
 tucking in the shawl around her shoulders, straighten- 
 ing her skirts, covering her feet, humming and cooing 
 like a magnified mother pigeon, until Myrtle's even 
 pulses plunged rebelliously under the repressed in- 
 clination to shake her into quietude. 
 
 Ruth's fulness of content held her above petty 
 flurries. She soothed Kate's nerves and allayed her 
 expressed dreads with a few affectionate sentences, 
 then sat with folded hands and placid demeanour, 
 waiting for what the next hour would bring, giving 
 personal audience to the relays of messengers sent 
 every ten minutes by her ever-thoughtful brother, 
 thanking each sweetly for his message, prophesying 
 to all that " everything would come right soon." 
 
 That Ralph should be his own final messenger and 
 confirm the tidings of his completed victory over ad- 
 verse circumstance, was only what she had expected, 
 The welcome in her luminous eyes, as John Bell took 
 her hand, said that she had anticipated as confidently 
 his coming. 
 
 It was in keeping with the daintiness of Ralph's 
 personal habits that he made a thorough, if rapid, 
 change of attire before sitting down to the meal he 
 needed more than the rest of the little party. He 
 had eaten nothing since noon, he confessed as an 
 excuse for an excellent appetite. Fresh as to eyes 
 and complexion, natty as to clothes, he took the foot 
 of the board, asked John Bell to say grace, and char- 
 acteristically tabooing the discussion of topics that 
 " might jostle digestion," rushed into extravaganzas 
 relative to his visit to Philadelphia. He always had 
 adventures when he travelled by land or water, ad- 
 ventures that were all blunders, making up a series 
 of jokes of which he was the butt. There had been 
 encounters of wits in which he was invariably worsted, 
 the telling of which sent the spirits of the auditors 
 up to the high level of his own. The fun became
 
 "The Ruth" at Midnight 257 
 
 general ; every clever touch told ; not a laugh hung 
 fire. Even Kate Meagley laughed naturally and 
 dealt no felted taps. 
 
 Looking back to that never-to-be-forgotten evening 
 in after years, more than one of the quintet who par- 
 took of the late supper recalled the Scottish super- 
 stition that to be " fey " presages calamity. At the 
 time the prevailing hilarity seemed but the rebound 
 of overwrought feeling when the weight of a great 
 impending danger was removed. 
 
 When Ruth gave the signal for leaving the table, 
 Ralph ran around to her, picked her up in his sinewy 
 arms and literally danced with her, to his own whis- 
 tling of a popular air, across the hall into the white 
 parlour, she protesting and pleading all the way, as 
 well as she could for laughing. 
 
 As he put her into her chair, he said : " She will be 
 waltzing upon her own blessed light fantastics before 
 the year is out. God bless her ! By the way, who 
 has seen Dale lately? Queer he hasn't turned up 
 this evening somewhere. I 've seen every other 
 man, three fourths of the women, and half the chil- 
 dren in town, and not so much as a glimpse of 
 the handsomest fellow in all Pitvale. Where is he 
 hiding himself? " 
 
 Kate Meagley's dulcet word slipped in before any 
 other was ready. It was politic not to avoid the 
 mention of the once dear, now detested name. Smil- 
 ing indifference was the best cloak for the memories 
 gnawing at her vitals. 
 
 " I saw him at five o'clock this afternoon. He 
 passed my father's house, walking toward Penn Boule- 
 vard. He was escorting a woman ; " her smile a 
 thought too wide to be quite spontaneous. " A very 
 common-looking person dressed in black. Presum- 
 ably a country patient. The same woman who was 
 walking with you this morning, Miss Bell. We took 
 
 17
 
 258 Dr. Dale 
 
 it for granted that you had recommended her to the 
 doctor. She is probably one of your pensioners? " 
 
 Absurdly enough, Myrtle felt swift tongues of 
 flame flash across her cheeks. She was preposter- 
 ously angry, unaccountably confused. Ralph's nimble 
 tongue saved her from the humiliation of an intem- 
 perate reply, 
 
 " More likely one of the millions of halt, maimed, 
 and blind Dale collects from the byways and hedges, 
 and treats with oil and wine on the Jericho road. 
 I never saw such a fellow ! He will go further and 
 fare harder for a pauper patient than for the richest 
 man who ever ' struck ile.' There 's no discount on 
 him, however everything else in the way of ' human 
 warious ' stock may depreciate. If I knew where to 
 find him, I 'd 'phone him up. It is n't fair we should 
 be having all the good times and he be off slaving 
 for other people, or gnawing his nails in solitude." 
 
 John forbore to glance at his sister's kindling eyes 
 as the honest tribute to her betrothed was spoken. 
 He toyed with a spray of citronaloes taken from a 
 vase near by, as he said, 
 
 " He was at home for a while this evening. I took 
 supper at the Club, and telephoned to his office with- 
 out getting any answer. Then I rang up Mrs. 
 Bowersox, for I wanted him to join me at supper. 
 She answered that he had been in a little before 
 seven o'clock, 'just in time to keep Jeff, poor dear! 
 from bleeding to death, ' " laughing as he repeated 
 the words. 
 
 Ruth and Myrtle exclaimed together. Jeffs many 
 casualties had not steeled his friends against anxiety 
 on his account. 
 
 John explained : " Case Van Wagenen had been 
 mending the wheelbarrow, and left the wheel lying 
 on the ground. Jeff took it into his head to make a 
 bicycle of it ; stole out of the back-door, having first
 
 "The Ruth'" at Midnight 259 
 
 got hold of Case's lantern, dragged the wheel into 
 the wood-shed, rigged up a handle-bar, and mounted 
 his machine. Naturally, he took a ' header,' and, as 
 it happened, into the wood-shed window. Result, 
 a gash ever so many inches long and nobody knows 
 how many deep, in his wrist and upward. As Provi- 
 dence would have it, Dr. Dale happened to come in 
 in the very nick of time. He stopped the bleeding 
 and plastered the boy together." 
 
 " Did she tell you all this by telephone? " laughed 
 Ruth. 
 
 " I venture to say she did ! " broke in Ralph. 
 " Moreover, that there is no telling what would have 
 happened if the doctor, poor dear ! had n't been 
 there. You don't say anything of the state of mind 
 at the Central Office while the dialogue was going 
 on ! Though, for that matter, nobody ever loses 
 patience with that best of women. So you did n't 
 get Dale ! " 
 
 " No. When the dear lady called the doctor to 
 supper, he was not in his room. Gretchen ' believed 
 he had had a call.' He was to be at the Choral 
 Union this evening, but there was no meeting, of 
 course." 
 
 Myrtle was on her feet, bidding Ruth " Good-night," 
 and engaging to run in the next morning. 
 
 " She must be very weary," she observed to Ralph. 
 " We have kept her up too late already. She has 
 more nerve and spirit than any of the rest of us, 
 but there are limits to human endurance." 
 
 " It won't take you five minutes to sing 'Adrift' for 
 me before you go," he said unexpectedly. " And I 
 shall sleep the better for it. Ruthie will, too. That 
 ought to persuade you into pleasing me." 
 
 " I did not need that," returned Myrtle, gravely, 
 pulling off the glove she had just drawn on, as she 
 went with him to the music-room.
 
 260 Dr. Dale 
 
 The drawing-room lay between it and the white 
 parlour. The doors of the suite were open. Kate 
 Meagley, who had strayed idly into the conservatory, 
 John and Ruth, left together in Ruth's parlour, heard 
 every note of the song, to which Ralph listened, spell- 
 bound, standing behind the musician, arms folded 
 and head bowed. 
 
 " ' Heart of my heart ! the years have flown, 
 And lost is Arcady ! ' " 
 
 he repeated, musingly, as she finished. " How vividly 
 it brings it all back to me ! I saw it while you were 
 singing, the Lagoon, the glitter of the moonlight 
 on the waves, and you in your white dress, your 
 guitar on your knee ! You had taken off your hat. 
 The moonlight was very clear." 
 
 He put out a restraining hand as she would have 
 moved toward the door. 
 
 " It is odd how much more the picture means to 
 me now than it did then " 
 
 She interrupted him ; not brusquely, but with frank 
 friendliness that signified more unequivocally the dif- 
 ference in their phases of thought and feeling, 
 
 "That is the glamour of Retrospect. It makes 
 plain things beautiful, commonplace things romantic. 
 We did have a pleasant visit to Venice, did n't we ? 
 I, too, remember it the more gratefully since I have 
 known you better, and seen you and Ruth in your 
 home." 
 
 He bowed low in stepping back to let her pass 
 through the curtained archway. She had saved his 
 self-respect by reminding him that in his own house 
 it would be ungenerous to urge his suit. Her tact 
 and gracious candour were her own. She meant all 
 that she implied in linking his name with his sister's. 
 GOD bless her for a true woman; honourable and 
 clement beyond the rank and file of her sex 1
 
 "The Ruth" at Midnight 261 
 
 The rest saw nothing unusual in their manner when 
 they appeared in the white parlour. Myrtle kissed 
 Ruth with unusual warmth. She had kept this friend, 
 too, by her ingenuousness with the brother. She 
 passed Kate Meagley with a mute inclination of the 
 head. The nasty little nettle still rankled in her 
 memory. 
 
 If Ralph remarked her stiffness and put his own 
 construction upon it, he gave no sign. While John 
 was wrestling with his dreadnaught in the hall, strik- 
 ing out right and left until both arms were in place, 
 grappling the collar, and finally lunging his great 
 frame into the recesses of the garment to make sure 
 he had got it on, there was opportunity for the ex- 
 change of a sentence or two upon the doorstep. 
 
 Myrtle improved it. 
 
 " Ruth has told me the glorious news about herself. 
 I congratulate you with all my heart ! " 
 
 " I knew you would ! GOD bless you ! " 
 
 Ralph put her into the carriage in waiting ; shook 
 hands with John as he stepped in after her, slammed 
 the door, and ordered the coachman to drive on. 
 
 He stood watching the carriage as it rolled down 
 the avenue to the outer gates. The weather had 
 changed within the hour. A strong north wind was 
 clearing the lower heavens of smoke and oily reek. 
 Here and there a stray star found its way between 
 the drifting rack overhead. The turbulent town was 
 stilling down ; the smitten tank was darkly invisible. 
 All danger was mercifully over, without the loss of 
 one human life. Every precaution had been taken 
 to avert further calamity. Trustworthy men were 
 posted about the foot of the hill whereon stood the 
 ruins of the derrick. There was no telling what mis- 
 chievous boy or meddling tramp might not do if 
 tempted by curiosity to visit the scene of the dis- 
 aster. The master was too well versed in the caprices
 
 262 Dr. Dale 
 
 and possibilities of Oil to take the remotest risk in 
 dealing with it. 
 
 Luckily, a long train laden with empty tanks was 
 at the railway station. Ralph had ordered the pipes 
 connecting the moat with the tank near the station to 
 be opened and the unlooked-for flow of oil to be drawn 
 off as fast as was practicable, then transferred to the 
 tubular tanks on the cars. Such a vast body of oil 
 exposed to the air, and by day to the sun, would be 
 too inflammable for public safety. He would begin 
 rebuilding the burnt derrick to-morrow. 
 
 There was no reason why the master of millions, 
 the saviour that night of thousands of dollars' worth 
 of property and of hundreds of lives, should not take 
 rest in sleep like the poorest of his operatives. There 
 was absolutely nothing more for him to look after for 
 ten hours to come. 
 
 He said it inly, standing bareheaded upon the 
 marble steps of the mansion his money had built, 
 the rising wind making a drowsy rustle in the laures- 
 tinus leaves about his ears, soughing dreamily in the 
 arbor-vitae trees lining the drive. 
 
 After an irresolute minute he went back to his 
 sister. Her maid and the masseuse were in waiting 
 to roll her wheeled chair to her chamber. He put 
 them aside, wound his arm about Ruth's waist, and 
 supported her along a short passage to her bedroom 
 in the wing of the house. 
 
 In letting her sink into an easy-chair, he kissed her 
 fondly twice. 
 
 " I have faith to believe there are bright days ahead 
 of both of us, sweet one ! " And, as he had said to 
 Myrtle, " GOD bless you ! " 
 
 He did not intimate his intention of going out 
 again. He never spoke of anything that could cause 
 her uneasiness when it could be avoided, and he knew 
 she would say he ought to go to bed. She was far
 
 "The Ruth" at Midnight 263 
 
 more careful of his physical well-being than he ever 
 thought of being. He knew how tough he was, how 
 little sleep he needed, what a sedative and yet what a 
 tonic action was to him. 
 
 He would have a look at the scene of the fire be- 
 fore turning in for the night. He was too restless 
 to sleep, and he did not want to dwell upon certain 
 obtrusive subjects one in particular which would 
 be sure to settle upon his pillow if he laid his head 
 down upon it. 
 
 To an incorrigible night-hawk 'like himself, it was 
 a bagatelle that midnight was proclaimed by the 
 cathedral chimes of the clock in the cupola of the 
 Club House as he cleared the iron gates of the ave- 
 nue. It was confirmed by feebler tongues from three 
 church-spires. 
 
 He recollected, complacently, that he had ordered 
 the clock-bell to be cast in Munich, and had John 
 Bell's name engraved on the rim, and that it was known 
 throughout the region as " the Dominie." 
 
 Smiling at the thought, he took out his repeater 
 and rang it. 
 
 " The Dominie keeps tip-top time ! " he said, aloud. 
 " ' Steady as a clock ' means everything when you 're 
 talking of him and of his ! " 
 
 Walking faster than was his habit by day, he skirted 
 the business portions of the lower town, crossed the 
 creek on the boulevard bridge that led to his own 
 place, and began more leisurely to climb the rising 
 ground on the other side. All was quiet; few lights 
 were to be seen, and these were at street corners. 
 The district was sparsely settled, and badly lighted, 
 even near the bridge. After a while the form of reg- 
 ular streets was abandoned. A vast common, dotted 
 by a dozen huts, lay about the hills that were Ralph's 
 destination. 
 
 He was challenged by, and answered two sentinels 
 before they recognised him.
 
 264 Dr. Dale 
 
 To the first he said : "All right, my lad ! Glad to 
 see you know your business ! " 
 
 To the second he called gaily, in tramping by, 
 " ' If anybody tries to haul down the American flag, 
 shoot him on the spot ! ' no matter what the spot 
 is!" 
 
 The man told the story to his dying day. 
 
 Half-way around the base of " The Ruth " hill, the 
 public road made an abrupt turn to the right. A 
 country lane joined it here, and at the junction was a 
 clump of dwarf cedars. Between their blackness and 
 the lighter streak of the lane winding away from com- 
 mon and highway, Ralph's falcon eyes saw something 
 that did not belong there. Without a moment's hesi- 
 tation, he charged down the bank towards it. 
 
 A man who had been sitting, or lying upon the 
 ground under the cedars, arose at the sound of his 
 rapid advance, and moved down the lane. 
 
 " Halt there ! " shouted Ralph. " Hold on, and 
 give an account of yourself, my friend ! " 
 
 " Don't be a fool if you can help it, Folger ! " said 
 cool, cutting accents. 
 
 " Dale ! what in thunder are you doing here, this 
 time of night? " 
 
 " Just what you are doing, I fancy, and what 
 another friend of us both is doing, going to and fro 
 in this damnable earth, and walking up and down 
 in it." 
 
 Folger gave his easy-going jolly laugh and locked 
 his arm in Dale's. 
 
 " Do you I know the other fellow you speak of 
 does n't object to company? " 
 
 " To-night ? Yes ! decidedly ! I am going home. 
 You, I take it, will be fooling around this unlucky 
 hill until daybreak. I am dog-weary ! Judging from 
 your voice, you are as fresh as a daisy." 
 
 " Right you are, my boy ! You thin-skinned
 
 "The Ruth" at Midnight 265 
 
 thoroughbreds are not in it with us cold-blooded 
 roadsters. Go your way, and I '11 go mine. I should 
 be better company than you to-night, a thing that 
 never happened before. Judging from your voice 
 and your incivility I know you are knocked to 
 pieces. Good-night ! Go home and go to bed ! " 
 
 He had not tramped another hundred yards when 
 he espied a second trespasser upon forbidden ground. 
 This time the creature was in motion. Creeping 
 up the lower slope of the hill directly toward the 
 guarded moat, a bent figure was making its slow way. 
 Now, seen in dim relief against the clouded sky, it 
 might be a dog, or other brute animal ; then it raised 
 itself almost to a man's height, and seemed to pause 
 for breath. Ralph gave silent chase, overtaking the 
 predatory mystery on the very brink of the moat. 
 
 He was still fifty feet or more away when the light 
 from a dark lantern, suddenly opened, shone out. A 
 man knelt upon the top of the bank, undoing a bun- 
 dle of slender sticks. The leap that landed Ralph 
 upon him was too late to intercept the act of lighting 
 the loosened faggot at the lamp within the lantern. 
 The torches flamed fiercely as if they had been dipped 
 in oil or pitch. 
 
 With a shout, Ralph seized the incendiary by the 
 throat and pulled him backward. As they went down 
 together, the burning sticks were tossed into the 
 moat, still half full of crude oil. 
 
 " D n you ! " said a husky voice, as a red blaze 
 rushed up, revealing the face of the assailant. 
 
 They had slipped upon the earth, soaked with water 
 and oil. Up the saturated sides of the moat and over 
 the edges roared the fiery surf, licking greedily the 
 surface of the thousand barrels of oil, curling, flick- 
 ering, flaming, as from a bottomless pit of wrath, 
 streaming up the oil-soaked heights beyond, to tank 
 and half-consumed derrick, a mountain of living fire.
 
 266 Dr. Dale 
 
 The watchmen, rushing to the place where the men 
 had fallen, saw a tall figure -rolling a smaller over and 
 over on the wet ground to extinguish the fiery sheet 
 enwrapping him. 
 
 At the bottom of the slope a third form writhed 
 and screamed in a pool of liquid flame. 
 
 " Dr. Dale ! " cried the first man to reach the fatal 
 spot, recognising the taller of the two. 
 
 The next second he gave a shriek, taken up and 
 echoed by his fellows, a groan and yell of unspeak- 
 able horror and anguish. 
 
 " It can't be Mr. Folger ! " 
 
 " It is ! " said a voice, calmly authoritative even 
 at this supreme moment. " One of you run for a 
 carriage ! Three of you help me carry him down ! " 
 
 While he spoke, he was taking off his coat to wrap 
 it about his friend. 
 
 " Somebody look after the other one, down there ! " 
 he ordered, as the four stooped to lift their precious 
 burden. 
 
 When the " other one " was picked up, his burning 
 clothing was stripped from him, somebody washed 
 the mire and smoke from the face distorted by 
 pain and crying, and bawled between disgust and 
 contempt, 
 
 " Blamed if 't ain't Old Meagley ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE PASSING OF RALPH FOLGER 
 
 " Thus did this man die, leaving . . . the memory of his death for 
 an example of virtue and fortitude." 
 
 r VWO o'clock tolled out, deep, sweet, mellow, 
 from the Club House clock as John Bell 
 and his sister alighted at the house they 
 had left so cheerfully less than three 
 hours ago. 
 
 The door flew open before they could 
 ring. Arthur, ashy pale, with loose trembling lips 
 that would not form a syllable, admitted them. A 
 wave of his hand gave Myrtle to understand that she 
 was to go to Ruth's room. John paced the hall in an 
 agony of grief and pity, while waiting for a summons 
 to the chamber of suffering. 
 
 Dr. Dale had finished dressing Ralph's burns. 
 They had carried him to the white parlour at his re- 
 quest. He lay on a broad divan drawn into the 
 middle of the floor. Perfectly conscious and col- 
 lected in mind, he had ordered every light in the big 
 room turned on. 
 
 " No darkened chamber and stereotyped death-bed 
 scene for me ! " he announced to physician and at- 
 tendants. " If this thing finishes me, I 'm going out 
 in a blaze of glory. Eh, Dale? " 
 
 Dale, skilled in reading signs of pain, saw from the 
 cruelly clenched jaw and the anguish behind the 
 alert little eyes, what the dying man suffered. He 
 honoured Folger for the flippant words wrung from 
 lips white with agony.
 
 268 Dr. Dale 
 
 The boy knew he was dangerously hurt ; how 
 badly he could not tell ; but the only sign of tor- 
 ture or of fear he betrayed was in the unnaturally 
 light speech that sought to mask the pain. 
 
 "Mr. Bell is here, sir!" whispered a frightened 
 servant, who tapped timidly at the door. 
 
 "Say that I'm en " began Dale, in the same 
 guarded key. 
 
 Ralph had overheard, and cut in, 
 
 "Go out and speak to him, old man! Don't mind 
 about leaving me alone. My mind 's a bit bewil- 
 dered, and I want a few minutes of solitude to pull 
 myself together in. Tell old John I 'd like to see 
 him after a while." 
 
 Dale made a few rapid preparations for the pa- 
 tient's comfort, crossed the room with noiseless 
 tread, and slipped into the hall, drawing the door 
 to behind him. The silence and awe of the im- 
 pending Great Change already brooded over the 
 house. 
 
 John checked his hurried walk and confronted the 
 doctor. 
 
 "How is he?" 
 
 Dale shook his head, without speaking. 
 
 "Is it " 
 
 " It is a question of a few hours at most. Besides 
 the external burns, which would be fatal, he inhaled 
 the flame. You know what that means. He cannot 
 live until morning. He is perfectly conscious, but 
 he is in horrible pain. He bears it splendidly. 
 You 'd better go to Miss Folger and break the 
 news to her. You '11 do it better than anybody 
 else. Make her understand there 's 'no hope, but 
 tell her to meet him bravely and not to break 
 down. That would but make it harder for him. I 
 think she can be trusted to control herself. Poor 
 girl!"
 
 Passing of Ralph Folger 269 
 
 The professional voice shook slightly. He paused ; 
 then professionalism and assumed coldness were 
 thrown to the winds. 
 
 " God knows I have done all I could ! I 'd gladly 
 have laid down my own life for the boy ! If I had 
 got there a minute sooner, I might have prevented 
 the fire. And he bears it like a hero. It shames 
 me to see such pluck. He has everything to live 
 for and to hope for and to work for ! And 
 now " 
 
 He checked himself abruptly and strode to the 
 open outer door, where he stood for a moment, his 
 back to John, staring, with eyes that saw not, into 
 the outer darkness. 
 
 His hands were knotted together behind his back. 
 Bell could see that the knuckles were white with 
 the convulsive pressure. The clergyman, albeit his 
 closest friend, had never known him to be thus 
 moved. John forbore to intrude upon the strong 
 man's grief, either by word or gesture. In another 
 minute Dale had returned to the other's side. His 
 beautiful face was haggard, but marble in its pro- 
 found calm. And now John for the first time, as 
 Dale stepped nearer to him and the light from the 
 hall chandelier fell full upon him, took note of the 
 doctor's appearance. 
 
 He started back with an exclamation of alarm, 
 
 "Egbert! you are badly hurt yourself! You 
 must be in dreadful pain. Your hair and eyebrows 
 are singed! the left side of your face is blistered! 
 And look at your hands ! " catching them in his and 
 raising them to the light. " They are covered with 
 burns and your wrist ! Your coat is torn there 
 is blood upon your shirt-front ! You were in it all ! 
 And you need to be attended to at once! " 
 
 "Yes?" answered Dale, nonchalantly. "It does 
 hurt just a little. I Ml have time enough to think
 
 270 Dr. Dale 
 
 of all that later. Now I must go back to Folger. 
 He must not be left alone longer. You would bet- 
 ter tell his sister at once. Let her be ready to 
 come to him at a moment's notice. Tell her the 
 first coherent words he said, after we picked him up, 
 were to beg that she should not be frightened. That 
 was characteristic, too. " 
 
 Ralph was lying very still when Dale re-entered 
 the white parlour. 
 
 It was an odd picture the spacious, brilliantly 
 lighted room associated in Dale's mind with peace, 
 luxury, and the perfect love of the brother and sister 
 who were so much to one another, the solitary 
 occupant huddled together on the broad couch, his 
 form swathed in white bandages. His keen light 
 eyes shone restlessly from above the face-cloths; 
 patches of fiery hair bristled forth between the 
 snowy head-coverings. 
 
 The bandaged figure, which even the majesty of 
 approaching death could not wholly rob of a certain 
 element of the grotesque, lay helpless amid sumptu- 
 ous surroundings. The master of millions was in 
 a plight for which his grimiest employe" would not 
 have exchanged his place. The man who had made 
 and who ruled Pitvale was at this moment of less 
 human account than the meanest loafer skulking in 
 its slums. 
 
 Folger did not speak or move until Dr. Dale bent 
 over him. Then he turned upon him restless eyes, 
 into which solemnity, all new to them, had crept. 
 
 "I 'm going out, old chap?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes ! " the doctor answered very gently. 
 
 "And soon?" 
 
 Dale bent his head, mutely. 
 
 The boy was silent for a long minute, looking 
 straight up at the ceiling frescoed with soft gray 
 clouds, a few pale stars gleaming between them.
 
 Passing of Ralph Folger 271 
 
 His eyes seemed to pass from one to another of 
 these to where the silver sickle of the young moon 
 shimmered through a veil of mist. There they 
 rested until he spoke, 
 
 "I'm pretty young to die, doctor ! " 
 
 There was no self-pity, not a suspicion of com- 
 plaint in his tone; only a sort of awe, tinged with 
 faint regret. He paused, then went on in the same 
 strain, 
 
 " This is a jolly old world. I 've had some first- 
 rate times in it. It will seem queer to go out of it 
 all! Did you ever think, Dale, what that means? 
 To be absolutely out of the game, with no way of 
 communicating with those we love; to be shut out 
 of their lives as utterly as if we 'd never lived at all. 
 It 's a queer thought. It 's hard to get used to it. 
 To be no longer one of the ' moving row ' we were 
 speaking about the other night, but to be laid ' back 
 in the closet. ' Such a little while such a bright 
 while ago, it was that you, John, and I were talk- 
 ing such things over!" 
 
 The deepening eyes were fixed upon the shadowy 
 moon above him. 
 
 " The rest does n't bother me now. I ' ve steered 
 fairly straight, for the most part. But to be out of 
 it all ! " 
 
 "You'll never go out of the lives of the Pitvale 
 people, Folger," answered the doctor. "They'll 
 remember you and love your memory as long as 
 they live. If you 'd seen some of them to-night, 
 when they heard that you were hurt, you 'd under- 
 stand that." 
 
 A happy smile lighted the drawn face. 
 
 "They are fond of me ! " he murmured. 
 
 Articulation was increasingly difficult. Dale 
 moistened his lips, and dropped, spoonful by spoon- 
 ful, a cooling preparation between them.
 
 272 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Don't try to talk ! " he advised. " It only makes 
 you suffer and exhausts your strength." 
 
 "That doesn't matter now! I like to believe 
 that my fellows love me and will miss me. I'm 
 not given to talking about such things, you know. 
 But I 've always thought that some day or other we 
 employers will be called on to give an account of 
 our stewardship over the people who have worked 
 for us. Ruth and I have had many a talk together 
 about it. I'm pretty sure, "smiling again, "that 
 her recording angel has a duplicate set of the ' Inas- 
 much Library.' And I should n't care to be put to 
 shame on that Day. When the books are opened, 
 you know." 
 
 "You won't be!" came the curt response, in a 
 husky, unnatural voice, as Dale arose to renew the 
 bandages on the injured man's face. 
 
 "Thank you!" said Ralph, simply. 
 
 Then "I haven't waited until to-day to make 
 my peace with my Creator. Scrambling into glory 
 on the last call is n't in my line. That does n't 
 strike me as a square deal, exactly. 
 
 " But there are other things to be settled. And 
 the time for earthly affairs is short. I 've sent for 
 Hendrickson. He does all the law business for the 
 Folger wells since his father died. He ought to 
 be here by now. I must make my will. Might I 
 trouble you to see if he 's come, and if he has, to 
 send him in ? " 
 
 The lawyer had been waiting five minutes in the 
 hall, not daring to intrude. 
 
 " I 've put you to lots of bother in my day, Hen- 
 drickson," was Ralph's greeting. "But I fancy this 
 will be the last time. Dale! will you put him up 
 to what he must do to start my vocal apparatus 
 again when it gives out? And will you, before 
 you go, give me a drink of something to brace
 
 Passing of Ralph Folger 273 
 
 me up a bit, so that I can dictate all I want written 
 down ? " 
 
 As the doctor complied with both requests, the 
 earnest eyes met his wistfully. 
 
 "Somehow I'm not as strong as I ought to be. 
 Will you come back in about ten minutes, or so, 
 and bring a couple of the servants with you to act 
 as witnesses? Sorry to trouble you! Hendrickson 
 will let you know when we've finished." 
 
 Dr. Dale sank down on a carved settee in the re- 
 cessed hall-window. 
 
 His head ached. Reaction was setting in. His 
 burns began to throb and smart. His left shoulder 
 was wrenched, and shooting pains ran through it. 
 He gave scarcely a thought to his injuries. His 
 heart was heavy for the dying boy in the adjoining 
 room. He was deeply stirred by Folger 's brave 
 gaiety in the face of death. The physician, inured 
 to witnessing bodily distress, despair, all the hor- 
 rible stages that lead to dissolution, shrank from 
 what the next hour must bring to pass. 
 
 He sat there, elbows on knees, his face in his 
 scorched hands, listening mechanically to the fit- 
 ful monotone of Folger's voice dictating his will. 
 Once, when the murmur failed entirely, professional 
 instinct made the listener lift himself and strain his 
 ears. When the sound began once more, he relapsed 
 into his listless attitude. 
 
 Again, the voice was raised slightly. Without 
 comprehending their import, Dale could make out 
 one or two of the testator's words. 
 
 He got up and moved further from the door of the 
 death-chamber, quite out of ear-shot. 
 
 At length the droning of the voice ceased. Hen- 
 drickson opened the door of the inner room and mo- 
 tioned that he was ready for the witnesses. 
 
 As Dale returned to the white parlour, butler and 
 
 18
 
 274 Dr. Dale 
 
 housekeeper at his heels, he saw, at a glance, that 
 the work of dictating the will had sorely drained 
 Ralph's remaining strength. The eyes were sunken 
 and glassy; the breath came in laboured gasps. The 
 cooling draught had to be administered between 
 every two or three words. 
 
 The doctor gave his whole attention to the task 
 of reviving the patient, while the scared witnesses 
 affixed their signatures beneath Ralph Folger's, and 
 the lawyer pressed the blotter upon them, then 
 folded it up and put it into his pocket. 
 
 Dale stepped aside, out of Ralph's sight, to whis- 
 per to the butler as the man was leaving, 
 
 "Tell Mr. Bell to have Miss Folger brought in in 
 about ten minutes." 
 
 To the housekeeper, a sensible elderly woman, he- 
 gave another low-voiced order. 
 
 Hendrickson left the room with the servants. 
 
 Dale moistened the bandages anew, set tumbler 
 and spoon at Ralph's side ready for use, and held a 
 glass to his lips. 
 
 "There! that will brace you!" he said, encourag- 
 ingly, as it was swallowed slowly. " The strain has 
 been too much for you. " 
 
 "Would you mind " Ralph began hesitatingly. 
 
 "That's all right! I've sent for Miss Folger. 
 Bell will have her here in a few minutes." 
 
 " But " the wistful eyes seeking his with an 
 intensity of meaning. 
 
 " I 've sent for her, too." 
 
 "God bless you for a good man and a true 
 friend, Egbert Dale ! " broke out Folger, impul- 
 sively. " And now I want a word with you before 
 
 they come. It 's an awkward thing to speak of. 
 j " 
 
 " Must it be said ? " suggested the doctor, wetting 
 the poor dry lips and tongue, as the voice died away.
 
 Passing of Ralph Folger 275 
 
 Ralph rallied manfully. 
 
 "Yes! I shied at it a bit the first time, that's 
 all. I 'm not used to discussing such things. Men 
 aren't, as a rule. But here and now is where 
 it 's got to be done." 
 
 " Go on, then ! " assented Dale. 
 
 Spoon and glass in hand, he watched for the mo- 
 ment of need. 
 
 " Dale ! old man ! you 're one of the best friends I 
 ever had. I don't know your past. I don't want to 
 know it. But I 'm a fair judge of men, and I know 
 you for one of the truest, whitest men I ever met. 
 You 're a gentleman and a man of honour. That 's 
 enough for me." 
 
 He paused. Not a muscle of Dale's face had 
 moved. 
 
 " She loves you ! " Ralph resumed brusquely, as 
 if hurrying through a painful task. " She loves 
 you ! Even I can see that. You worship the ground 
 she walks upon. You are proud as Lucifer. You 
 won't ask her to marry a poor country doctor. That 
 is foolish. She isn't the sort of girl to let such 
 things matter. You thought once I had a chance 
 there. Don't deny it ! It was one night when she 
 was playing for us. I saw it in your eyes. Just 
 because I was rich. You knew I meant to ask her 
 to marry me." 
 
 "Don't go on!" pleaded Dale, for the breath was 
 short and hard. 
 
 "I must! Why, Dale! I knew that when you 
 risked death to-night to save the life of a man you 
 believed was your rival. With me out of the way 
 you believed your course would be clear. Yet you 
 followed me into that hell and dragged me out." 
 
 " Don't ! don't speak of that ! " said Dale, in strong 
 agitation. "I had no such thought! What I did, 
 any one of a hundred other men would have done 
 gladly and better ! "
 
 276 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Maybe so. That does n't alter the case as far as 
 I can see. You risked everything for me! " 
 
 Another silence. The final rally of senses and 
 strength had come. He was making the most of it. 
 
 When he spoke again, there was a new note in his 
 voice, although it was a half-whisper. A smile lit 
 up the bandaged face, almost glorifying it. 
 
 "I love her, too!" he said. "That's no news to 
 you, of course. She cares nothing for me! How 
 could she? I ought to have seen that, long ago. 
 Now I 'm clean out of the race, and I mean that you 
 shall win. May I ask you one question? I don't 
 want to know anything about your past life, except 
 this, apart from lack of money, is there any just 
 impediment to your marrying? " 
 
 " Before Almighty GOD NO ! " 
 
 Dale arose to his feet; his voice rang out with 
 strange fervour. 
 
 "Then marry her!" panted Ralph, wrestling 
 with a new spasm of pain and breathlessness, yet 
 resolute as ever to finish the matter he had in hand. 
 " I 've left you half my estate. You will be the 
 richest man in this section of the State by the time 
 the sun is up. 
 
 "Don't start back! Can't you see, man, it 's for 
 her not for you? I 'm robbing no one. Ruth has 
 already more than she can use. I 've left a few 
 other legacies. But most to you and to her! 
 
 "Ah! I think I hear her voice outside now and 
 Ruth's. Send them in won't you? 
 
 "And " a gleam of the old humour leaping into 
 the tortured eyes "for the love of Heaven, steer 
 the Meagley girl off! Give her my respectful 
 adieux. But whatever you do, don't give her a 
 chance to get in here and smooth the pillow of the 
 dying saint. Good-luck, old chap ! " 
 
 Egbert Dale took the swathed hand in both of his.
 
 Passing of Ralph Folger 277 
 
 He tried to speak, but no voice came. There was a 
 sharp, clicking sound in his throat, as he tenderly 
 laid down the heavy hand and walked quickly from 
 the room through another door than that by which 
 John Bell entered, carrying Ruth Folger in his 
 arms. 
 
 Dawn was creeping, slow and chill, over Pitvale. 
 
 The streets had been disquieted all night. Knots 
 of men hung about tavern and saloon doors, or 
 drank within them to drown the anxiety that pos- 
 sessed the town as the bosom of one individual. A 
 common dread was in every soul; a common fear 
 blanched faces made horribly distinct by the ominous 
 glare of the burning hill, the funeral pyre of many 
 hopes. 
 
 A pyramid of dark-red flame, bent this way and 
 that by the rising wind, it flared at daybreak as it 
 had rioted in the first hour after midnight, without 
 let or molestation ; as it would riot for many hours 
 to come, until the oil was licked from the trench 
 and the soaked sheathing of the moat consumed. 
 
 Even Ralph Folger would be at a loss for an ex- 
 pedient for arresting the conflagration, had he been 
 up and doing. And Ralph Folger, as every child 
 in Pitvale knew, lay a-dying in the great stone 
 house on the hill, the gray walls of which showed 
 ruddy by reflection from the consuming fire. 
 
 In one quarter the peaceful, pretty quarter of 
 the model cottages lamps had burned all night; 
 anxious faces pressed against the window-panes and 
 peered from oft-opened doors, as men passed the end 
 of the thoroughfare, or brought news direct from the 
 great house. 
 
 At six o'clock a man ran down the middle of the 
 street, a man, panting, coatless, hatless, his 
 oil-stained overalls and soiled shirt streaked and
 
 278 Dr. Dale 
 
 scorched. Like one distraught he ran, shouting 
 brokenly a single sentence as he went by each 
 house. 
 
 And from the whole quarter, when he had passed, 
 arose a mingled clamour of the weeping of women 
 and the strangled oaths of rough, sorrowing men. 
 
 For the runner was Sandy McAlpin, and the 
 broken words he sobbed out were, 
 
 "Ralph Folger 's dead! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 IN THE LIBRARY 
 
 " With thy true eyes on mine, dear heart, 
 
 As at the margin of the Sea 
 Which thee and me one day must part, 
 
 Forgive all that I would not be. 
 Assoil thou me, while I cast out 
 
 Dark fancies that have wrought me pain ; 
 Let love's strong faith bear down weak doubt : 
 
 We shall not pass this way again." 
 
 DR. DALE, calling at the Folger house on 
 the afternoon of the second day after the 
 electric storm, was admitted by Arthur, 
 who had evidently been on the watch. 
 " Miss Folger is sleeping very quiet, 
 sir," he said. " And will you please walk into the 
 liberrery? One of the ladies will be down directly." 
 " One of the ladies " signified but one to the wait- 
 ing visitor. Assured that the formal message was 
 from her, the physician laid by hat and overcoat in 
 the hall, and passing with the light, soundless step 
 habitual to him, into the library, was- met full by 
 Kate Meagley. 
 
 Before she said so much as " Good-afternoon," 
 she glided behind him and closed the door he had 
 been too much surprised to shut. 
 
 There was not a vestige of colour in her face; 
 there were dark crescents under her eyes ; her lips 
 were dry and livid. The cool-headed observer 
 thought he had seldom seen a less attractive woman. 
 For the first time since the beginning of their 
 acquaintanceship, she had not cared to commend 
 herself to his eyes in arranging the interview. She 
 entered at once upon business.
 
 280 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Ruth has been much more comfortable since you 
 were here this morning," she said. " Mr. Bell saw 
 her afterwards and thought her condition much 
 improved. She fell into a natural sleep an hour ago 
 at two o'clock." 
 
 " Yet I found a message upon my office-slate at 
 half-past two, asking me to call here at an early hour. 
 Why was I sent for? and by whom? " 
 
 " Because I wanted to see you upon another matter 
 altogether. I heard at two o'clock I had known 
 nothing of it before being so much engrossed by 
 Ruth and all the sad preparations that my father 
 was on the hill, night before last. You may imagine 
 the shock it was to me. My sister Harriet brought 
 me the sad story. I asked her to leave the message 
 at your office." 
 
 The corners of the listener's mouth twitched 
 slightly. 
 
 A useless lie is always a blunder. He had left the 
 house and walked down the avenue with Miss Julia 
 Meagley at eleven o'clock, she descanting with tear- 
 ful volubility upon dear Kate's distress at learning 
 what had happened to " poor Pa" over-night. 
 
 Since, however, it suited the diplomatic daughter to 
 receive him in the earliest transports of grief-full con- 
 sternation, he would give her her head. 
 
 "She tells me" the Middle Miss Meagley was 
 saying " that Sandy McAlpin has been to my 
 mother to-day to say that her husband is responsible 
 for what has happened. Sandy was in a fearful rage. 
 He told her that if my father were in his right mind 
 he would be dragged out of his bed, tarred and 
 feathered, then hanged to a lamp-post. He warned 
 her that ' the wretch' those were his words 
 ' must be locked up in a mad-house as soon as he 
 can be moved, or the boys will pay him off in 
 their own fashion.'
 
 In the Library 281 
 
 " Dr. Dale ! you know what my father is, a feeble 
 old man, broken by his unmerited misfortunes, and 
 with the foolish ways and talk of his age and condi- 
 tion. It would kill him to be put into an asylum. It 
 would be a lasting disgrace to his family. I am in- 
 formed that you are the only person who knows just 
 what happened before the fire broke out. My mother, 
 my sisters, and myself were greatly excited by the 
 storm, and the lightning-bolt, and the cannonading 
 early in the evening. When the carriage came for 
 me, my mother was unwilling to have me venture into 
 the streets, filled as they were with all sorts of des- 
 perate characters. When I would come home to see 
 how Ruth was bearing it all, her uneasiness and worry 
 made her forget my father. She supposed him to be 
 in bed until he was brought home with his clothes 
 burned off his body. 
 
 " He was suffering too much to give any rational 
 account of himself. The men who brought him told 
 a confused story of having found him near the moat, 
 which had somehow taken fire. We could not get 
 you, as you were busy with Mr. Folger. Dr. Kruger 
 was sent for. He put my father under the influence 
 of morphine and ordered him to be kept perfectly 
 quiet. Until McAlpin called, my mother did not 
 know how he got his burns. You have seen McAlpin, 
 of course, and heard his story? " 
 
 " He helped me bring Mr. Folger home." 
 
 " He is naturally greatly excited. Mr. Folger was 
 his liberal patron. His death may mean much to the 
 man. He says you were actually on the spot, and 
 that you know more about the awful affair than 
 anybody else. Dr. Dale ! you have a kind heart. 
 You are a merciful man. Don't add to the miseries 
 of an unfortunate family. I sent for you to beg 
 on my knees, if need be, for I am brought very low 
 my pride is utterly gone ! to beg you to hold back
 
 282 Dr. Dale 
 
 anything that would set this lawless community against 
 my father, or lessen Ruth Folger's regard for me 
 for us ! " 
 
 Again the lines of the impassive visage before her 
 were stirred. This time the gleam was touched with 
 contempt. The last luckless slip of the tongue had 
 betrayed her. The faint smile stung her like a lash. 
 
 She was standing before him, for he had declined 
 to sit down, her hands clasped upon her breast, 
 her eyes, wide and piteous, raised to his. She was a 
 poseuse, despite the terrible sincerity of her petition. 
 Her recoil was natural, the fling of her hands behind 
 her effective, because unstudied. 
 
 " I know what you are thinking ! You despise us 
 as her pensioners. You have never believed in my 
 friendship for her. You would like to have her cast 
 us off because she has been brought to think that 
 my father an infirm, timid old man, had some- 
 thing to do with her brother's death. That would 
 strengthen your hold upon the Folger money, and 
 the hold the Bells are getting upon Ruth." 
 
 " If you will kindly come to the point of this extra- 
 ordinary attack, I shall be better able to answer you." 
 
 The chill scorn of countenance and tone were a 
 withering black frost. She had spoiled all by letting 
 heat get the better of her discretion for one minute. 
 Stormy scenes with Julia and with Harriet had 
 abraded her nerves and weakened self-control. Su- 
 peradded to these was the passionate resentment 
 boiling up within her at sight and hearing of the man 
 who had humbled and infuriated her as no mortal 
 ever had before, as no other ever could humiliate her 
 again. She flung the reins upon the neck of the tem- 
 per dreaded by her dependants, unsuspected by her 
 superiors. There was nothing to lose with this man. 
 He might be bullied, and to bully him would relieve 
 the volume of pent-up iury.
 
 In the Library 283 
 
 Her hands clutched and pinched one another be- 
 hind her back, as she met his gaze boldly, and dashed 
 her words into his face, 
 
 " The ' point ' is just this : If you do know any- 
 thing that happened night before last that would 
 harm my father if it were told, I expect you to keep 
 it to yourself. The fire was an accident. A careless 
 workman or one of the guards may have dropped a 
 coal from his pipe, or let a lighted match fall into the 
 moat . Or, the lantern which people who did not 
 see it insist was carried by my father, fell into the 
 oil. / insist that the person who dropped the lantern 
 was not my father, but some one else who got away 
 unhurt. Mr. Folger said that he did not recognise 
 the incendiary. He died without suspecting who it 
 was. Would not he have known Mr. Meagley in- 
 stantly ? What I expect you to do is to keep these 
 things in mind, and be very careful what you say." 
 
 " Is that a threat ? " eyeing her with tranquil curi- 
 osity, most exasperating because she could not resent 
 it in words. 
 
 " It may, or it may not be." She was regaining 
 composure, although the fingers he could not see 
 still scratched and tore at one another. " If I make 
 a threat, you may be sure it will be carried out. We 
 Meagleys have long memories." 
 
 " Leaving generalities," each word a drop of 
 caustic, " let me say that I have already been called 
 upon by six newspaper reporters, not to mention 
 many other people all upon the same errand. As 
 soon as news of Mr. Folger's death was telegraphed 
 to other places, requests for particulars were poured 
 into our telegraph and telephone offices. As the one 
 man as you have remarked who was an eyewit- 
 ness of the whole affair, I was applied to for these 
 particulars." 
 
 Kate Meagley felt herself growing sick and weak.
 
 284 Dr. Dale 
 
 She sat down, and rested her forehead upon her 
 hand. Dr. Dale remained standing; the hard cold- 
 ness of accent and eye did not vary. 
 
 " I said to each caller, without invidious comment, 
 that I was talking with Mr. Folger near the base of 
 the hill a few minutes before I saw him turn from the 
 road and begin to climb the hill. At the same in- 
 stant I caught sight of the person he was pursuing. 
 I followed him. When but a few rods away, I saw a 
 light at the edge of the trench into which the oil from 
 the broken tank had run. I distinctly saw a man 
 lighting what looked like slender sticks, by a lamp or 
 candle. As Mr. Folger reached him, the man threw 
 the blazing sticks into the trench. The oil was ig- 
 nited and rushed over the edge of the trench. I laid 
 hold of Mr. Folger, and kicked the other man down 
 the hill. The man, when picked up, proved to be 
 Mr. Meagley." 
 
 As the merciless narrator went on, the girl's face 
 was bluish-white; both hands were pressed hard 
 upon her heart. The roaring in her ears, the op- 
 pression on her chest, were the sensations of one 
 drowning. 
 
 " You are quite sure ? May there not have been 
 some mistake?" she faltered. "It was night, you 
 know." 
 
 " I saw both men by the light of the blazing oil. 
 When asked as to my opinion with regard to Mr. 
 Meagley's presence there at such an hour, I said that 
 he is a monomaniac, who considers himself ill-used 
 by Mr. Folger and other successful men because they 
 would not share their profits with him. That I had 
 advised his family, as his physician, to keep a close 
 watch upon his actions, since they would not take the 
 wiser course of sending him to an insane asylum. 
 
 " This is the substance of what I have said to other 
 people. It is all I have to say to you."
 
 In the Library 285 
 
 He bowed, walked to the door she had shut, and 
 set it wide open. 
 
 No more emphatic indication of a desire to end an 
 unpleasant interview can be given. The emphasis 
 thus conveyed is usually an insult, and is designed to 
 be construed as such. 
 
 A girl dressed in black was crossing the central 
 hall on the way from the conservatory to the stair- 
 case. Her arms were full of Annunciation-lilies. At 
 sight of the figure in the doorway of the library, the 
 pale face was irradiated ; a low cry of rapture es- 
 caped the lips. She flew as straight to Dale as a 
 wind-driven bird to shelter, never observing that he 
 was not alone. 
 
 " Love ! my Love ! I did not know that you were 
 here ! " 
 
 He took her in his arms, lilies and all, holding her 
 as if he would never let her go. 
 
 There were two doors to the library. When Dale 
 drew his betrothed into the room, there was no one 
 there but themselves. He said never a word of the 
 interview he had ended emphatically. The woman 
 who had threatened him was unprincipled, and he 
 had made her desperate. He dismissed all thought 
 of her. He would have liked to open the window 
 and change the air she had breathed before he let his 
 darling enter. 
 
 Until this moment he had not seen Myrtle alone 
 since the evening when, at his request, she had sung 
 " Between the Lights ; " had not looked into the dear 
 eyes since they laughed back at him as she cantered 
 away from his office-door, a gay " Au revoir ! " upon 
 her tongue. 
 
 Between that hour and this he had waded through 
 the deeps of hell, had tasted the bitterness of 
 death. But she was his his alone! wedded to his 
 soul for time and for eternity. Another man who
 
 286 Dr. Dale 
 
 had loved her lay dead in the room above them. 
 The lilies she had gathered to put upon the stilled 
 heart were heaped, like perfumed sea-foam, upon 
 the table beside them while they talked, and while 
 he held her in fierce tenderness, defiant of death 
 and the pains of hell. 
 
 "Mine! mine! MINE!" he uttered, over and over, 
 in the semi-delirium of one who, perishing with 
 thirst, stoops to the fountain. 
 
 Then, as he saw how wan were her cheeks when 
 the flush of meeting had passed, how languid the 
 eyes from much weeping and loss of sleep, his heart 
 smote him for the selfish indulgence. 
 
 "It is cruel barbarous forme to talk of my- 
 self and my love while your heart is so heavy," he 
 said. "Ralph was very dear to us both." 
 
 At Ralph's name the tears gushed afresh. He 
 drew her head to his breast, and let her sob herself 
 calm there. It was her resting-place, her home, 
 her shield from this time and forevermore. Come 
 what had come, come what might, she was his, wholly 
 and always. 
 
 As soon as the poignancy of her grief should be 
 over, when the friend "dear to them both" should 
 be laid away in his last resting-place, and the 
 needful legal formalities should be done with, he 
 would tell her that there was no longer any bar to 
 their immediate union, break to her the news of 
 Ralph's magnificent bequest to them to her! 
 
 When they had borne Ruth away from her 
 brother's death-chamber, she had besought Myrtle 
 to stay with her. 
 
 "He loved you so dearly!" she had cried, cling- 
 ing to her friend's neck. "You are all I have left 
 of him ! " 
 
 "You must stay!" said John, and Dr. Dale had 
 not gainsaid the verdict.
 
 In the Library 287 
 
 He said now, within himself, that they would 
 live close to Ruth in the Future so blessedly near 
 at hand. The stricken woman should have the com- 
 forter who, she fondly believed, would have been 
 her sister had her idolised brother lived. 
 
 Ah, well! let her believe it, so long as his love, 
 himself and Ralph knew better! 
 
 The snow had begun to fall when Myrtle quieted 
 down into her normal self. 
 
 A great bay-window opened upon the garden, and 
 they went over to sit in it and watch the fine, soft 
 flakes. They powdered the evergreens, they lodged 
 in the crotches of naked branches; they spread a 
 light gray lacy web, then a carpet of pure wool, 
 upon the faintly greening turf, the gravel-walks, the 
 asphalt drive, the black mould of beds and borders 
 made ready for spring flowers. The ghostly still- 
 ness of the outer world was in close touch with the 
 death-hush within doors. 
 
 " We cannot be glad. It will be a long, long time 
 before we can be light-hearted again," whispered 
 Myrtle, nestling into the firm embrace of her 
 lover's arm. "But we can be peaceful and thank- 
 ful as long as we are left to one another. Separa- 
 tion would be worse than bereavement, worse than 
 death itself. 
 
 "You see," touching her skirt, "I have put on a 
 black gown. I felt like doing it, and I knew it 
 would gratify Ruth, and I thought he would like to 
 know it. You don't mind it, do you? " 
 
 " I mind nothing that is a comfort and a satisfac- 
 tion to you, my darling. And, as Ruth said, Ralph 
 loved you very dearly." 
 
 It cost him no effort to be generous. Was she 
 not all his, heart and soul, mind and body? his 
 leaf of healing, his pearl of great price, his dove of 
 peace ?
 
 288 Dr. Dale 
 
 He liked that simile best of all. Such peace and 
 gratitude as were his, sitting in the summer warmth 
 of the hushed room, seeing the snow cover every- 
 thing of earthly soil out of sight and what he had 
 sworn was dearer to him than his soul's salvation, 
 in his arms. 
 
 " ' Memory past and present fusing 
 Into one swift, shining stream,' 
 
 he quoted dreamily. " I wish ' Present and Future ' 
 would scan! ' Forgetting the things that are be- 
 hind,' we live and love in one eternal Now." 
 
 The carpet of white wool was a three-ply, many 
 times multiplied, when a brougham, curtains down 
 and glasses raised, drove under the window and down 
 the avenue. 
 
 " There goes Kate Meagley ! " said Myrtle. " She 
 is very busy, and obliged to go out a great deal. I 
 am thankful to be able to stay with Ruth in her 
 absence. I am beginning to be ashamed of my 
 harsh judgment of Kate. I don't think I can ever 
 bring myself to like her or to trust her. But I 
 cannot help respecting her somewhat just now. 
 She is marvellously efficient. Her gentleness to 
 me is marked. She has not said one feline 
 thing to me. Her behaviour to Ruth is beyond 
 praise. Seeing all this is a lesson in charitable 
 judgment." 
 
 Dr. Dale held his peace.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 UNDER THE SNOW 
 
 " So passed the strong, heroic soul away, 
 And when they buried him, the little port 
 Had seldom seen a costlier funeral." 
 
 " For there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed." 
 
 1 
 
 snow-storm that had set in quietly 
 on the afternoon of the sixteenth day of 
 March, with no portent of violence, waxed, 
 with the falling of the night, into a bliz- 
 zard the like of which had never visited 
 the hill-locked valley. 
 
 Railways were blocked by the close of the second 
 day of windy storm and tempest; in the narrower 
 streets the snow lay even with the sills of second- 
 story windows; the whirling masses filled the black- 
 ened moat below the ruined well; cottagers were 
 dug out of their hidden houses, as sheep out of 
 drifts; drunkards, reeling homeward from saloons 
 whither they had gone to be warmed and filled, 
 sank down for their endless slumber under a fleecy 
 coverlet, and were not found until March suns 
 changed ice and snow to water. 
 
 Ruth Folger, awaiting patiently the postponed 
 day of her brother's burial, scanned her " Inasmuch " 
 books to judge who would be most seriously affected 
 by the loss of work and by the fierce weather. New 
 cases of distress were hourly added to the list by 
 John Bell and Dr. Dale, reports rendered the more 
 freely because each appreciated how salutary was 
 the occupation thus rendered to the burdened mind. 
 By her orders, gangs of men, shut off from well- 
 
 9
 
 290 Dr. Dale 
 
 work and transporting oil to the station by the 
 depth of the drifts, were set about clearing streets 
 and roads, and carting the snow thus removed out 
 of the town, receiving for their labour double the 
 wages they would have drawn for their ordinary 
 occupation. To each gang hot coffee was served 
 from the Club House kitchen three times a day, a 
 hot meal of meat and vegetables at noon. 
 
 "And I 'm to tell ye, me lads, that it 's from Mr. 
 Ralph Folger, with his sister's love," Big Sandy, 
 her accredited ambassador, made out to say the day 
 the gangs began work. "Because, she says, it's 
 what himself would have done if he were here the 
 day." 
 
 After which stammering deliverance, they saw 
 his face no more for a good hour. 
 
 On the twentieth of that fateful month the 
 mightiest funeral procession the hill-country was 
 ever to see set forth from the stone house on the 
 South Side, for the cemetery that lay about " Dom- 
 inie Bell's" church, in which five generations of 
 Folgers had worshipped God according to the tradi- 
 tions of their rustic forbears. 
 
 From the oriel of the white parlour, the bereaved 
 sister, whose house was left unto her desolate, saw 
 the long black line wind through the hollow ways 
 hewn in the snow as in solid marble. Every flag 
 was at half-mast ; the responsive tolling of bells 
 thrilled the frosty air. The weather was still in- 
 tensely cold from the vast bodies of snow burying 
 the earth out of sight for fifty miles around, but 
 there was no wind, and the sunshine was heartlessly 
 bright. 
 
 Behind the carriages and horsemen walked hun- 
 dreds of working-men, each decent coat-sleeve and 
 hat banded with crape. The like badge of mourn- 
 ing fluttered from many a tenement-house window,
 
 Under the Snow 291 
 
 and drooped from cottage door-knobs. Back of 
 closed windows, women, children, and old men 
 crowded the panes to see, with tear-blurred eyes, 
 the last of one all acknowledged as benefactor and 
 friend. Under the limitless hollow of wintry blue 
 there was no sound but the rhythmic beat of the 
 bells, the creak and crunch of wheels in the pol- 
 ished ruts worn in the snow. 
 
 The forest of derricks arose, gaunt and black, 
 from the dazzling surface; pumps were silent, and 
 the tall chimneys smokeless. All Pitvale mourned 
 as the heart of one man for the young, exuberant 
 life so pitilessly quenched. 
 
 As John Bell read of the Resurrection and the 
 Life in the crowded church, summoning all the 
 forces of his strong soul to command his voice and 
 to stifle the pleadings of his brother-heart for the 
 right to bow as a mourner beside the coffin, instead 
 of standing as priest above it, Myrtle knelt by 
 Ruth's chair, and they comforted one another with 
 the same divine words. 
 
 No one was present, besides themselves, while the 
 low, girlish tones read the simple, beautiful service. 
 No one interrupted them during the solemn hour 
 that followed. The great common sorrow had knit 
 their hearts very closely together in these last ter- 
 rible days. 
 
 "I am selfish, I know," Ruth said, that evening, 
 as John Bell was bidding her " Good-night." "But 
 her going will take so much from me ! If you coula 
 spare her to me a few days longer, it would be a 
 great comfort." 
 
 John looked an inquiry which Ruth did not see. 
 
 " I will stay ! " said Myrtle, promptly. 
 
 Ruth thanked them, without in the least suspect- 
 ing the nature or degree of the sacrifice made for 
 her " comfort. "
 
 292 Dr. Dale 
 
 It was no time for stories of love and betrothal. 
 John repressed the longing, at times almost intoler- 
 able, to offer the bereaved woman the devotion of 
 his tender, constant soul, to assert his right to stand 
 nearest and dearest to her in her hour of supreme 
 need. In the early transports of her grief.it would 
 be indelicate, according to his chivalric code, to 
 obtrude his claims. After a little while he might 
 speak, and she might listen, and, he fondly hoped, 
 find surcease of pain in the certainty of his love. 
 
 Dr. Dale came daily as physician and friend, and 
 left directions with Miss Bell when the professional 
 call was over. The grateful patient knew nothing 
 of his changed relations to her friend. Therefore 
 she could not guess at the thoughts which flew 
 yearningly, during the quiet evenings in the white 
 parlour, to the room deserted by both men in Myrtle's 
 absence. The vision of the chilly gloom, brooding 
 where warmth and heart-cheer had reigned for two 
 idyllic months; the vacant arm-chair before the fire- 
 less hearth, the silent piano, the absence of the 
 Presence that made it Home to the trio, pained 
 and oppressed her. 
 
 On three evenings of that week John took his 
 sister's place as reader, companion, and custodian, 
 and sent her off to walk under Dr. Dale's escort. 
 
 They were back within an hour each time, for it 
 was a sickly season, fraught with coughs, colds, and 
 consumption, the dregs of the hard winter that 
 seemed endless. If Myrtle brought fresher roses 
 and brightened eyes to her friend's room on her 
 return, exercise and fresh air accounted for them. 
 
 Kate Meagley "found Miss Bell's visit such a 
 blessing" at that particular juncture. Her father 
 continued very ill, so shattered in mind and body 
 as to demand continual care, and the whole family 
 regarded the middle daughter as a mainstay. She
 
 Under the Snow 293 
 
 passed several hours of each day in the paternal 
 abode, and more than once came home so worn out 
 in nerve as to be compelled to go at once to her 
 chamber and to bed. She was exquisitely sensitive, 
 according to compassionate Ruth, and the part her 
 unhappy parent had taken in the late tragedy told 
 upon her sadly. 
 
 Then a rain-storm set in, converting the snow- 
 wastes into gray slush, flooding the streets and 
 making out-door exercise impracticable. It was a 
 dreary, dreadful interval between a prolonged and 
 a tardy season. 
 
 When the sun shone again, he was convoyed by 
 bitter east winds that froze the slush into solid rock. 
 
 March was outdoing herself, making a record she 
 would find it hard to break in years to come. 
 
 Upon the tenth day of Myrtle's sojourn in the 
 Folger house, her brother brought Jeff to spend the 
 afternoon with her. Ruth had given him a confi- 
 dential commission to that effect, and smiled hap- 
 pily at the delighted surprise in her friend's 
 countenance at sight of him. 
 
 The little fellow had been at a loss how to dispose 
 of his superabundance of leisure and himself, with 
 Miss Bell away all the time, Mr. Bell and Dr. Dale 
 hardly ever at home, even at meal-times, and Beau- 
 tiful a resident, with his mistress, of Miss Folger's 
 house. Ruth was a prime favourite with Jeff; a 
 visit to her a treat that nearly made him forget his 
 mother's injunction to "move very quietly and speak 
 softly," when with one whose brother "had just 
 gone to heaven." 
 
 Myrtle caught him from John's hand, with a hug, 
 and a kiss that gladdened his inmost soul. 
 
 " My boy ! my dear, dear boy ! " she said, her tones 
 so heartsome that he clasped her neck in an ecstasy 
 of relief.
 
 294 - r ae 
 
 " Oh-h ! " he breathed in her ear. " I was afraid 
 you 'd be crying all the whole time ! " 
 
 Myrtle lifted him to her knee, undid his wrap- 
 pings, and laid her face to his, cold, round, and 
 rosy. 
 
 " How good it feels ! " she said. " No, dear ! we 
 do not think our dear Mr. Folger would like us to 
 be crying all the time, because he is so much hap- 
 pier than we could make him. He liked to have 
 happy people about him, you know. Go to Miss 
 Ruth now! She is waiting to speak to you." 
 
 Seated in a chair just his size, set at Miss Ruth's 
 left hand, a new top, of a pattern hitherto unknown 
 to him, in one hand, a gorgeous picture-book in the 
 other, a seductive picture of bon-bons before the 
 eyes of his fancy, the important small person was 
 not forsaken by all his wits. 
 
 "We meeted Dr. Dale in the street," he informed 
 Myrtle, seriously conscientious. " He gived me a 
 peticular message for you. He says you are going 
 to walk me them those no! these two miles to- 
 day that you promised. He says be sure to put on 
 rubber shoes with roughed soles. 'Cause the walk- 
 ing is very slippy." 
 
 John Bell clapped his hands. 
 
 " Bravo ! my man ! Very well done ! Verbatim, 
 if not literatim ! Allowances must be made for the 
 medium of transmission. Miss Kate is at home to- 
 day, pet, and you must follow the doctor's prescrip- 
 tion. You will be better for the tramp after being 
 storm-bound so long. The walking is more toler- 
 able than might have been expected. What is left 
 of the snow has settled into a hard crust." 
 
 He moved over to Ruth and looked down upon 
 her with love-full eyes. 
 
 "Before the next snow flies we shall have this 
 little lady ready for snow-shoes and skates."
 
 Under the Snow 295 
 
 The softest imaginable shade of pink, delicate as 
 that which dashes the outer petals of a bride-rose, 
 tinged Ruth's cheeks at this, the first allusion he 
 had made to his knowledge of her precious secret, 
 and what it might involve for them. 
 
 She put out her hand impulsively. It was en- 
 closed in both of his. 
 
 Myrtle lifted Jeff to the floor. 
 
 "The very best place for spinning that top is the 
 conservatory," she declared. "The floor there is 
 all marble. Come!" 
 
 The conservatory was as warm and bright as June. 
 A mocking-bird's cage hung in the branches of an 
 orange-tree. The orange-tree was in bloom, and 
 the bird was singing. Rows of stately lilies faced 
 a bank of roses; orchids vibrated, like birds-of-para- 
 dise all a-flutter, in the wafts of sun-filled air rising 
 to the domed roof. 
 
 After setting the top going, Myrtle strolled slowly 
 up and down the aisle, basking in the light, inhal- 
 ing the fragrant air, and thinking her own beautiful 
 thoughts. 
 
 She was going " home " in two days more ! Kate 
 Meagley had been to her room that forenoon to 
 thank her for her "great kindness," and to report 
 her father as so far convalescent that he could be 
 left to the care of his wife and four resident daugh- 
 ters. She had talked quietly, unaffectedly, and sadly 
 of the event that had plunged two households into 
 mourning. Her unhappy father would be sent to a 
 private Retreat, as soon as he could be moved. It 
 was best so. She did not say, but Myrtle surmised 
 correctly, that the Retreat was an expensive shelter, 
 and that Ruth Folger would defray the costs of the 
 monomaniac's keeping. 
 
 In her heart Myrtle could not but honour the girl 
 for the manner in which she had comported herself
 
 296 Dr. Dale 
 
 of late. She had shielded Ruth from disturbances 
 from without; directed the servants, received calls, 
 and answered notes, yet continued to give part of 
 each day to her distressed family, loyally resolute, 
 it would seem, to show to a censorious public that 
 she would stand by kith and kin, whatever happened. 
 To a generous nature there is pure satisfaction in 
 reversing an uncharitable opinion of a fellow-creat- 
 ure. Myrtle was glad to think kindly and compas- 
 sionately of the Middle Miss Meagley. 
 
 " Egbert says it is only the untempted who have a 
 show of right to judge harshly of the sinner," she 
 thought. 'Put yourself in his place,' is his favour- 
 ite motto. " I must put myself to school to him in 
 the matter of Christian charity. Others preach it. 
 He practises it." 
 
 The swift, shining stream of her musings did not 
 dally long with Kate Meagley and abstract moralis- 
 ings. Dearly as she loved Ruth, it was natural 'that 
 her heart should be "light as it had wings," in an- 
 ticipating the return to the fondly familiar round of 
 every-day life at Mrs. Bowersox's. She had so much 
 to say, and so much more to hear, that she could 
 scarcely wait forty-eight hours longer. 
 
 Egbert was grievously shaken by Ralph Folger's 
 death and the attendant circumstances. He could 
 not refer to them without an exhibition of emotion 
 that did not accord with his habitual self-control. 
 He looked jaded and careworn, and, in reply to his 
 fianceVs anxious inquiries, had confessed that his 
 old enemy, insomnia, was in full possession of the 
 hours that should bring rest in sleep. 
 
 He had told her that, on her first evening at 
 home, they "must have a long business-talk," and 
 at her solicitous exclamation had added, with the 
 grave tender smile oftener upon his lips now than 
 the flashing gleam that used to change his whole
 
 Under the Snow 297 
 
 visage, that "there was nothing to make her un- 
 easy. She must trust him yet a little while." 
 
 Ignorant of the fact that Ralph Folger's will was 
 that day admitted to probate, and that the singular 
 provisions of the instrument were no secret to any- 
 body in town except herself, Ruth, by John's ad- 
 vice, having refrained from speaking of them to her 
 or to Kate, she had not the most shadowy idea of 
 what the purport of the business-talk would be. 
 Only that she must go on believing in Egbert. 
 
 " Trust him ! " She said it aloud, looking through 
 the bowery leafage and bloom to the sun shining in 
 his strength. "To the death! As if anything 
 could shake my faith!" 
 
 "Yes, Miss Bell?" responded Jeff, politely, from 
 the marble floor and the humming-top. 
 
 "I did not speak to you, dear. Are you happy? " 
 
 "Very happy, thank you, Miss Bell!" primly, but 
 heartily. 
 
 "So am I, in heart!" strolling to the far end of 
 the flower-lined alley as she soliloquised, smiles 
 upon lip and in the earnest, sensitive eyes. "Very 
 peaceful and thankful. Such peace as even sorrow 
 cannot take away." 
 
 At three o'clock she and Jeff set out, in good 
 heart, for the two-mile walk. The spring sun had 
 melted the ice from the board sidewalks, leaving 
 them so wet and sloppy that the pedestrians were 
 glad to quit them as soon as they struck a path 
 through a vacant lot, as a cross-cut to the open 
 country. 
 
 The most nearly romantic walk Myrtle had ex- 
 plored in her many tramps in the environs of Pit- 
 vale lay along and across what was known to the 
 country people as "The Glen," an irregular ravine 
 winding between steep banks fringed with bushes, 
 down to a narrow strip of meadow-land washed by
 
 298 Dr. Dale 
 
 the creek. A bustling little brook ran in the bot- 
 tom of the gully and cut a crooked streak in the 
 meadow in its impatience to throw itself into the 
 full-grown water-course. One of the few belts of 
 native forest that had once covered acres of farm- 
 land bounded the farther side of the glen. 
 
 Jeff gave his companion to understand that this 
 was one of his stamping-grounds. He had been in 
 those woods many and many a time. Leastways, 
 Mr. Bell had walked him there oncet or may 
 'twas twicet. And Dr. Dale had rided him there 
 one other day. In a buggy and a horse. There were 
 ten millions of white flowers on the trees that day. 
 
 " Oh, Jeff dear ! Ten millions ? " 
 
 "Tenny rate, there were a hundred. Dr. Dale 
 cutted off a big bunch for me. They did not have 
 any smell, but they were nice. I fink he said they 
 were dogwood. Or, perhaps, catwood. I don't just 
 remember. I saw a squirrel. He ranned up a tree. 
 And a rabbit with a funny stuck-up tail. He ranned 
 away in the bushes. Never-an-never so fast. Dr. 
 Dale said 'cause he couldn't climb a tree. His feet 
 weren't made right, you know. Wouldn't you like 
 to get across the gully, Miss Bell? You just come 
 down this way. I '11 show you. Me and Dr. Dale 
 went acrost it. He tied the buggy to a tree this 
 side." 
 
 Prattling as fast as his tongue could wag, he 
 scampered on ahead. The ravine was choked with 
 snow for some distance. The shrubs, thrusting 
 dark tips through the crust, reminded Myrtle of 
 black pins in a white cushion. She spoke of it to 
 Jeff, and both laughed. The crisp, pure air had got 
 into veins and head. She could have danced and 
 sung as they broke their way through the bushes. 
 A row of pines grew in the edge of the wood close 
 to the brink of the gully. She stopped to listen
 
 Under the Snow 299 
 
 to the "hush! hush! hush!" of the wind in the 
 plumy branches. 
 
 Pines sing the same song all around the world. 
 She loved them and their music and their scent. 
 Some day she would ask Egbert why he " hated " it. 
 
 When she was a little girl, she used to persuade 
 John to swing her hammock between two tall pines 
 upon the lawn of a farmhouse where they spent 
 several summers. The long-drawn sighs always put 
 her to sleep. 
 
 A plantation of scrub-pines filled up the shallow 
 end of the ravine where it lost itself in the meadow. 
 
 Cones had doubtless fallen from the larger trees 
 above, and taken root in the clayey soil. The low- 
 lands were one glare of ice left by the receding 
 freshet. 
 
 Myrtle called to Jeff to go carefully lest he should 
 slip. Beautiful bounded down the hill to overtake 
 him, warned by his mistress's accent that there was 
 danger somewhere. Before she came up with them 
 she heard the child's gleeful shout, and an odd 
 sound as of a pickaxe striking upon ice. Jeff was 
 capering with delight, and clapping his hands. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Bell! look at Beautiful! I do 'spect 
 it 's a rabbit or maybe a squirrel or maybe a 
 woodchucker he 's after ! " 
 
 The dog was digging frantically with his forepaws 
 into a heap of frozen snow lodged under the scrub- 
 pines, fragments flying about him like a sleet-storm. 
 
 Myrtle pressed forward and seized him by the 
 collar. 
 
 " Beautiful ! no ! no, sir ! What do you want with 
 a harmless little rabbit ? " 
 
 The dog paid no heed. A large piece of snow- 
 crust hit her in the face. She released the excited 
 creature, and staggered back, clearing her smarting 
 eyes with both hands.
 
 300 Dr. Dale 
 
 Jeff's shriek was a different note from his scream 
 of enjoyment in the dog's exploit. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! See what he 's done ! " 
 The digger had uncovered a woman's arm em- 
 bedded in the snow-ice. The sleeve, revealed to the 
 shoulder, was of black stuff. The bare hand, frozen 
 into chalky whiteness, clutched a bunch of yellow 
 willow twigs. 
 
 " Oh, Jeff ! stand back ! What is it ? " 
 "I fink," solemnly deliberative, "it must be- 
 long to the lady we sawed the other day. The end 
 of her finger is broked off. "
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 CORONER KRUGER 
 
 " First Grave-digger. But is this law? 
 
 " Second Grave-digger. Ay, marry, is 't, crowner's quest law. " 
 
 PITVALE justice, like Pitvale sanitary con- 
 ditions, pavements, and schools, had by no 
 means kept pace with the growth and wealth 
 of the town. 
 The place was a rank mushroom, born of 
 Oil, reared and nourished by Greed, Money, and 
 Excitement. Something must be left unfinished. 
 In this case there were numerous things. 
 
 The town was the county-seat, it is true, and 
 boasted a two-storied stuccoed Court-house, which 
 was also the City Hall and the local jail, part of which 
 was the jailer's private residence. 
 
 The second floor of the Court-house consisted of 
 one large room with three smaller at the right and 
 left, used as clerks' offices and jury-room. In the 
 central chamber every case, criminal or civil from 
 a " drunk and disorderly " up to a legal squabble 
 over the ownership of a hundred thousand dollar oil- 
 well was adjudicated. Here public meetings were 
 held, municipal, political, philanthropic, and even 
 religious. 
 
 The first floor was occupied by " Bat " Sydney, the 
 jailer, his wife and their two children. It was roomy 
 and comfortable, for " Bat " was a man of conse- 
 quence, combining with that of jailer the offices of 
 deputy county-clerk and deputy-sheriff. 
 
 In the basement were some eight or ten strong
 
 302 Dr. Dale 
 
 cells. The collection was dignified by the name of 
 " The Jail " proper. 
 
 Except in one instance, when an oilman had shot 
 his opponent at cards, and another, when Mrs. Bower- 
 sox's wash had been painlessly extracted from the 
 lines by a negro who was caught white-handed in 
 the act and consigned to the jail (Mrs. Bowersox 
 daily sending jelly and chicken and mince-pies to the 
 " poor dear," until he was removed, at the end of 
 thirty days, to the penitentiary), the lock-up, up to 
 date, had been merely the depository, for brief pe- 
 riods, of certain inebriated oilmen and loafers in 
 general, who were lodged there until they had slept 
 off their quarrelsome fits and were ready to accumu- 
 late another " load." 
 
 Pitvale, albeit it had had enough sensations lately 
 to sate a town ten times its size, arose ravenously to 
 a bait the like of which had never been thrown to it 
 before. Heretofore its misdeeds had been done in 
 the open. There had never been a Murder mystery 
 worthy of commemoration in inch-long capitals and 
 flaring head-lines in metropolitan papers. The town, 
 although horrified, was a trifle vain of the distinction. 
 
 Accordingly, on the morning set for the Inquest in 
 the case of the dead woman who had been found on 
 the bank of Ranken's Creek two days ago, the Court- 
 room was packed to the very doors, and a throng of 
 grease-grimed oilmen and inquisitive women hung 
 about the stairways and the front porch. Little work 
 was done at any well. Everybody took a day off. 
 The streets were almost deserted and quieter than on 
 Sunday. All Pitvale was at the Court-house. All 
 who could squeeze in were in the Court-room. 
 
 Samuel Johnson Kruger, M.D., had run for Coro- 
 ner the year before and got the appointment, an 
 honour damaged on the way to him by the knowledge 
 that Dr. Dale had positively refused to allow his
 
 Coroner Kruger 303 
 
 name to be mentioned in connection with the office. 
 To-day Dr. Kruger felt himself, for the first time in 
 his professional career, to be in his true element. He 
 was, at last, the centre of public interest. He had 
 been Pitvale's leading doctor in days when, as a 
 country practitioner, he had gleaned a scanty liveli- 
 hood in a sparsely settled district. 
 
 Then had come the oil-boom, and the consequent 
 influx of population. The village swelled into a 
 town ; the town promised to grow into a city. Samuel 
 Kruger forecast a future of wealth and renown for 
 himself. His lack of skill, and the address that often 
 in his profession atones with the ignorant majority 
 for deficiency in skill, resulting in more than one dis- 
 astrous blunder, were for a time readily condoned 
 in a rough-and-ready community, only too thankful 
 to have a doctor of any sort within easy call. 
 
 He prospered, adding case to case, and dollar to 
 dollar, until Dr. Dale appeared upon the small 
 stage. Workingmen and adventurers are quick 
 to size up a man, and Kruger suffered in the com- 
 parison. With growing hatred for the supplanter, 
 he had to stand aside and see his patients, one after 
 another, turn from him to this upstart ; to see the 
 few wealthy families of the place employ the specious 
 new-comer; to note the difference between Dale's 
 grave, easy manner and consummate skill, and his 
 own bluster, his illiteracy, and ignorance of the 
 subtler brands of his calling. 
 
 The consciousness of inferiority hurt him even 
 more than the steady loss of practice. 
 
 The climax came in the form of a stray speech of 
 Ralph Folger, retailed to Kruger by some kind well- 
 wisher, 
 
 " Dale has Manner: Kruger has n't even manners." 
 
 Close upon this came Dale's nomination as Coro- 
 ner; his prompt refusal of the office, and his sag-
 
 304 Dr. Dale 
 
 gestion that the post be offered to his less fortunate 
 rival. Kruger accepted the position, and cordially de- 
 tested the man at whose motion it was given to him. 
 
 Now, however, for one bright, if brief day, he was 
 the hero of an Occasion, and Dale was not even in 
 court. It irked the official that his enemy should 
 not be a witness of his triumph. Since Dale had be- 
 come a millionaire (a fresh grievance), Kruger sup- 
 posed sourly that he would feel little interest in 
 Pitvale affairs. With all his elation, the Coroner was 
 somewhat nervous. It was his maiden experience in 
 an affair of such magnitude. Despite hard study of 
 buff calfskin books over-night, he was not quite sure 
 as to the law regarding inquests in the case of a pos- 
 sible homicide. Like many a wiser man, he resolved 
 to rule arbitrarily upon doubtful points, carrying the 
 matter with a high hand, and taking the chances that 
 nobody in the motley throng before him was better 
 posted than himself. 
 
 The initial steps of the Inquest were taken in com- 
 parative security. A fleeting smile from Hendrick- 
 son, the Folgers' lawyer, who, by virtue of his 
 profession, sat just within the bench enclosure and 
 let no stage of the proceedings escape him, warned 
 Kruger now and then that he was skating upon thin 
 ice, and he invariably glided over to the next point. 
 
 The task of impanelling a jury was plain sailing. 
 Half of Pitvale was eager to serve. True, Barney 
 Crogan refused to sit on the same jury with Elihu 
 Maxwell, upon the ground that the latter had owed 
 him four dollars for six months, and was therefore 
 not a fit person to decide what was or was not a 
 square trial. 
 
 Kruger frowned down the hilarity excited in the 
 audience by the original objection, and hastened to 
 overrule it by explaining in his best chest-tone and 
 second-best legal phraseology, that the fact of the
 
 Coroner Kruger 305 
 
 said Maxwell's having owed the said Crogan the sum 
 of four dollars no cents for six months, had no real 
 bearing upon the case in point, and did not, per se, 
 disqualify the said Elihu Maxwell from determining 
 by what means the deceased woman whom the 
 Court (for the lack of a better name) would desig- 
 nate as Jane Doe came to her death. 
 
 The last juror was at length sworn in, and Kruger, 
 hiding a tremor under an access of bluster, opened 
 the Inquest. 
 
 It is safe to say that up to this moment not ten 
 people in the room felt the occasion to be solemn, 
 much less momentous to any person or persons pres- 
 ent. Curiosity had drawn them together, and they 
 were wide awake to the element of the farcical already 
 introduced into the proceedings by the squabble be- 
 tween the jurors and the overstrained dignity of the 
 presiding officer. 
 
 "The investigation, Gentlemen of the Jury and fel- 
 low-citizens," he began, his voice going flat, then 
 abruptly scaling a whole octave, " in the case of 
 Jane Doe will now begin. By virtue of my position 
 as Coroner of this town, I will state briefly, that said 
 Jane Doe, apparently thirty years of age, habitat 
 unknown " 
 
 Here Hendrickson smiled, and Kruger went on 
 more loudly, 
 
 " Habitat unknown, was found dead on the right 
 bank of the stream known as Ranken's Creek, at a 
 point about one-half mile below the Bradfield Road 
 on last Monday afternoon, March twenty-six, at about 
 four o'clock P. M. by Miss Myrtle Bell, sister of Rev- 
 erend John Bell of this place. As coroner and phy- 
 sician, I examined the body of the deceased. 
 
 " She was five feet six inches in height and slightly 
 built. The second joint of the little finger of right 
 hand was missing. The injury was plainly of long
 
 306 Dr. Dale 
 
 standing, as was shown by the cicatriced sear. Her hair 
 was dark ; her hands were those of a working- woman. 
 Her clothing was of cheap material, but neat and 
 whole. The underclothing was home-made. She 
 wore knitted stockings, a black stuff gown, no gloves, 
 stout shoes, and a black straw hat with a crape veil. 
 There was no mark upon the handkerchief in her 
 pocket, or upon any of her clothing, and no papers 
 of any description upon the body. Her only orna- 
 ment was a gold breastpin or brooch in the form 
 of a bunch of grapes, the pin of which had been 
 broken and fastened on with a bit of wire a circum- 
 stance trifling in itself, but testifying that she was 
 a countrywoman, and could not get at a jeweller in 
 such an emergency." 
 
 Hendrickson raised his hand to smother a smile 
 or a yawn. The Coroner had read thus far from his 
 note-book. He trusted to his professional memory 
 for the next particulars : 
 
 " The presumption that the said Jane Doe came to 
 her death by violence at the hands of some person or 
 persons unknown is made clear to the Court by the 
 circumstance that there was a contusion and a scalp 
 wound, as from a heavy blow with a blunt instrument, 
 at the conjunction of the occipital and left parietal 
 bones of the cranium, I may explain, for the bene- 
 fit of such of you as are not versed in technical terms. 
 The blow upon the head was sufficient to have caused 
 her death, and effectually disposes of the hypothesis 
 of suicide." 
 
 The crowd had stilled down into respectful atten- 
 tion. The case was taking on a grave aspect. The 
 Coroner's spirits rose, his voice with them, 
 
 " But the further presumption is that the said Jane 
 Doe, stunned or dead, as the case may be, was then 
 thrown into the stream known among you as Ran- 
 ken's Creek, there to meet her death by drowning.
 
 Coroner Kruger 307 
 
 " The murder occurred, no doubt, during the 
 freshet two weeks ago. Otherwise the body could 
 not have been carried so far down stream, and cast 
 up with such force to the point referred to. We 
 know the murder must have been committed fully a 
 half-mile above this spot (probably on or near the 
 North Bridge), for the aforesaid Jane Doe had grasped 
 at some willow twigs as she fell into, or floated upon, 
 the water, and the twigs were still in her clenched 
 hand, stiff frozen, as was the rest of the body. 
 
 " Now, Gentlemen of the Jury and fellow-citizens ! " 
 rising portentously upon his toes to accentuate a 
 telling point, "the Court himself has examined the 
 banks of the aforesaid Ranken's Creek, in propria per- 
 sona, and there is n't a willow farther down stream 
 than about fifty yards below the aforesaid North 
 Bridge, and on the opposite side of the creek from 
 the place where the body was found. The current 
 undoubtedly carried the deceased across to the other 
 shore and landed her upon the bank. 
 
 " All this may be considered irregular testimony by 
 sticklers for the jots and the tittles of legal formal- 
 ities," scowling in the direction of the urbane Hen- 
 drickson, " but as I saw the place myself and as I 
 was the surgeon who examined the body, I '11 con- 
 sider that I 'm the first witness, and that I 've been 
 testifying in that capacity." 
 
 Again Mr. Hendrickson's politely puzzled face re- 
 laxed into a smile, and Kruger passed on hastily to 
 the third stage of the inquiry. 
 
 I" The next witness I shall call is Miss Katharine 
 Meagley, who, I am credibly informed, saw the de- 
 ceased on the day of her de I would say, her death. 
 Miss Katharine Jane Meagley will please take the 
 stand." 
 
 The Middle Miss Meagley had long filled the 
 widowed Coroner's mind as his ideal of a real refined,
 
 308 Dr. Dale 
 
 tasty-looking, genteel young lady. His manner 
 underwent a decided change for the gentler as he 
 questioned her. 
 
 " Miss Meagley," he began as a leading query, 
 " did you ever see the deceased Jane Doe prior to 
 her death?" 
 
 "I did!" 
 
 Her voice was incisive, slightly metallic. Her kit- 
 tenishness had vanished, leaving in its place a certain 
 feline calm, an utter absence of agitation. 
 
 " State the circumstances of your seeing her, 
 please ! " 
 
 "I saw her twice," answered Kate, choosing her 
 words carefully. " Both times were on March four- 
 teenth. The first time was about half-past eleven 
 in the morning. She was walking down Hill Street 
 with Miss Bell and Mrs. Bowersox's little boy. She 
 and Miss Bell were talking together and seemed on 
 excellent terms. I supposed, from their manner, 
 that they were old friends. As the woman was 
 a stranger and rather peculiar in appearance, I 
 looked more closely at her than I should have 
 done otherwise." 
 
 "You have viewed the ah remains, Miss 
 Meagley?" 
 
 A palpable shudder prefaced the reply. 
 
 "I have." 
 
 " And are convinced in your own mind that they 
 are those of the person you saw on the aforesaid 
 fourteenth day of March ? " 
 
 "lam." 
 
 " Did you see where the deceased woman and Miss 
 Bell went on that occasion ? " 
 
 "Yes. I was driving, and stopped the horse at 
 the top of the hill to let him breathe. Chancing to 
 look back, I saw them stop at the corner of Williams 
 Street. Miss Bell was pointing towards Dr. Dale's
 
 Coroner Kruger 309 
 
 office. They talked together for perhaps a minute. 
 Then Miss Bell and the little boy walked on up 
 Meade Street. The strange woman went down Wil- 
 liams Street and into Dr. Dale's office." 
 
 "You don't know how long she stayed there?" 
 
 " Naturally not ! " with a perceptible stiffening of 
 feature and form. "I could not have been so ill- 
 bred as to stay and spy upon them. It was purely 
 by chance that I turned to look after I had passed 
 them." 
 
 "There is no doubt in your own mind as to the 
 identity of the person who went into Dr. Dale's 
 office with the aforesaid Jane Doe ? " urged Kruger. 
 
 Again the artistic shudder. 
 
 " None whatever. I recognised her face and her 
 dress. It was the same woman. " 
 
 " You have said that you saw her twice on March 
 fourteenth. Please state to the Court the time, 
 place, and manner of your second meeting." 
 
 " It was not a meeting. I saw her from the par- 
 lour window of my father's house on Mulberry Street, 
 No. 140. It was at five o'clock in the afternoon. 
 The clock struck just after they had gone by." 
 
 "She was not alone then? Was Miss Bell with 
 her this time?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Who was ? " 
 
 Kate looked down ; tapped her foot nervously on 
 the floor, and shrank within herself effectively. 
 
 "Must I answer that question, doctor? " 
 
 The appeal came in a low voice that shook just a 
 little. 
 
 " Certainly, Miss Meagley. I am sorry to force 
 you to speak out against your will, but Justice de- 
 mands the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
 the truth, you know. Who, then, I ask, was with 
 the aforesaid Jane Doe when you saw her from the
 
 310 Dr. Dale 
 
 window of your father's house, 140 Mulberry 
 Street, at five o'clock on the afternoon of March 
 fourteenth ? " 
 
 Five hundred heads bent forward to catch the 
 reply. There was a hush throughout the room, that 
 the lowest word should not be missed; but the an- 
 swer, this time, was in a clear, steady tone that 
 travelled to the utmost limits of the hall. 
 
 "Dr. Egbert Dale was with her." 
 
 A rustle a confused sound, that was not gasp, 
 murmur, or whisper, yet a blending of the three 
 ran through the assemblage. 
 
 The Coroner paused, pointedly, until it subsided 
 into a felt stillness before demanding, from the 
 depths of his capacious stomach, 
 
 "Is Dr. Egbert Dale in Court? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 "Clerk!" commanded Kruger. " Send a messen- 
 ger at once to Dr. Dale's office, and request him, 
 with the compliments of the Court, to step around 
 to the Court House immediately. Tell him his tes- 
 timony is needed. If he is not there, find out where 
 he is, and produce him without delay. 
 
 "Now, Miss Meagley" his voice again labori- 
 ously gentle " please state to the Court if Dr. 
 Dale and this woman appeared to be on amicable 
 terms." 
 
 " She was wiping her eyes, " began Kate, " and " 
 
 "I object!" 
 
 Coroner, witness, and spectators turned toward the 
 quarter whence the interruption had come. 
 
 Hendrickson, the lawyer, was upon his feet. 
 
 "Your Honour!" he said, bowing suavely to 
 Kruger, who nodded uneasily in response, "I have 
 hitherto offered no objection to the somewhat irreg- 
 ular mode in which this Inquest has been conducted. 
 It was no affair of mine. It even amused me, "But
 
 Coroner Kruger 3 11 
 
 when Dr. Dale's name is brought into the proceed- 
 ings, I must object. Dr. Dale is my client. I have 
 charge of the moneyed interests bequeathed to him 
 by the late Mr. Ralph Folger, and am his regularly 
 constituted legal adviser. In that capacity I shall 
 represent him here and now. If, when he appears 
 in Court, he declines to allow me to do this, I will 
 apologise to the Court and withdraw my claim. In 
 the mean time I demand that his name be omitted 
 from the investigation until his arrival." 
 
 The lawyer sat down. 
 
 Kruger glowered, changed his weight from one 
 leg to the other, and seemed at a loss how to pro- 
 ceed. Once or twice he glanced at the calfskin 
 law-book at his elbow, as for advice. 
 
 A titter started in one corner of the hall. 
 
 " Good work, Hendrickson ! " said a voice near 
 the door. 
 
 " Order ! " snarled Kruger, his yellow chin-whisker 
 bristling with outraged dignity. "Since my legal 
 brother fears that his client's interests may suffer 
 from a little plain truth-telling, I suppose we must 
 bow to the moneyed interests he represents, and not 
 breathe the new-made millionaire's sacred name un- 
 til he makes his appearance in person. Let us hope 
 that Dr. Dale will not block the wheels of Justice 
 very long. I could wish " 
 
 " I am here ! " answered a quiet voice from the 
 entrance. " What is your wish ? "
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 DOGBERRY IN THE CHAIR 
 
 " Dogb. Pray thee, fellow, peace ! I do not like thy look, I prom- 
 ise thee. . . . Dost thou not suspect my place ? Dost thou not sus- 
 pect my years ? . . . I am a wise fellow, and, what is more, an officer. 
 . . . Bring him away ! O, that I had been writ down an ASS I " 
 
 WHEN you address the Court, Dr. 
 Dale, have the kindness to say ' Your 
 Honour, ' " commanded the Coroner. 
 "Mr. Hendrickson, your lawyer, has 
 taken up the cudgels in your behalf. 
 Probably under your instructions as your represen- 
 tative. He has delayed the Inquest and wasted val- 
 uable time by his zeal." 
 
 "Mr. Hendrickson has not acted under my in- 
 structions," rejoined Dale, working his way through 
 the crowd until he stood before the Coroner's raised 
 desk; "for, not foreseeing that my testimony would 
 be needed in the Inquest, I could not very well 
 have given him any such authority. Still, I thank 
 him for acting in my behalf, and I trust he will do 
 me the honour to continue to do so." 
 
 Bowing slightly to the Bench, he crossed to where 
 Hendrickson sat, shook hands with the lawyer, and 
 took a place at his side. 
 
 "The investigation will now continue," announced 
 the Coroner, in his most pompous tones. "Miss 
 Meagley ! the Court must apologise for the rudeness 
 with which your most excellent testimony was in- 
 terrupted. We will proceed. You said that, when 
 you saw the deceased in company with Dr. Dale, 
 she was wiping her eyes. Did Dr. Dale appear 
 agitated also?"
 
 Dogberry in the Chair 313 
 
 "Not at all." 
 
 " I object ! " 
 
 The witness and the lawyer had spoken in one 
 breath. 
 
 " I object ! " went on Hendrickson. " Your 
 Honour," with the faintest tinge of irony, "is, 
 presumably, after the facts in the case. You are 
 not seeking, or should not be seeking, to learn 
 what the witness's impressions of a man's mental 
 attitude may be, as judged from his appearance." 
 
 "The Court needs no suggestions as to its duty 
 from you, sir ! " retorted Kruger. 
 
 After a moment's consideration he waived the 
 question, asking, instead, 
 
 "In what direction were Dr. Dale and the woman 
 going when you met them, Miss Meagley? I take 
 it, that is a matter of fact." 
 
 "Toward the North Bridge." 
 
 " Could you see from your window whether or not 
 they actually turned in that direction after reaching 
 the head of Mulberry Street? " 
 
 Kate had the grace to blush. 
 
 "They did," she answered in a low tone. 
 
 "And about what time of day did you say this 
 was ? " 
 
 "At five o'clock in the afternoon." 
 
 "Did Dr. Dale see you? I trust my legal friend 
 will permit that question ? " grinning sardonically. 
 
 " He did not look at the house." 
 
 " I object ! " said Hendrickson, wearily. 
 
 "That is all, Miss Meagley. Thank you!" said 
 the Coroner, ignoring the interruption. "Miss 
 Harriet Meagley will please come forward ! " 
 
 Miss Harriet, so sallow, even to her lips, with 
 agitation as to look cadaverous in her sage-green 
 costume, was led to the witness's chair by a Court 
 attendant
 
 314 Dr. Dale 
 
 In answer to the Coroner's questions she corrobo- 
 rated her sister's testimony in every detail, but with 
 half-dramatic, half-scared speech. It was like the 
 sputtering flicker of a damp match following a clean 
 lightning-flash. 
 
 " Is Miss Myrtle Bell in Court ? " called Kruger. 
 
 Dale's black brows contracted at the coarse- 
 mouthed shouting of her name. He seemed about 
 to speak when John Bell's tall head arose above the 
 throng about the door. 
 
 "Your Honour, is it absolutely necessary that 
 Miss Bell should appear in this matter?" he asked 
 respectfully. 
 
 "The interests of Justice demand it imperatively, 
 Mr. Bell," answered the Coroner. "I regret, as 
 much as you can, the necessity of bringing your 
 sister's name into this very unpleasant case, but 
 she is an important witness. I must send for her." 
 
 "I will go for her," replied John, after a glance 
 at Hendrickson, and a nod from the latter. 
 
 " Not to lose time, the Court now summons the 
 Reverend Cotton Mather Welsh," resumed Kruger. 
 
 A fresh murmur arose from the spectators, as the 
 little minister, in his threadbare surtout and slov- 
 enly white necktie, stepped to the front. 
 
 "Do you swear " began Kruger, holding out the 
 shabby Court Bible. 
 
 Welsh pushed the Book aside. 
 
 " ' Let your yea be yea, and your nay, nay ! ' " he 
 said sternly. " It is also written, ' Swear not at 
 all!' I refuse to take an oath; I will affirm." 
 
 "That will do," assented the Coroner, after a 
 hasty dip into the calfskin manual. 
 
 "Mr. Welsh," he went on, "did you ever see 
 the deceased woman whose death the Court is, at 
 present, investigating?" 
 
 " And whose funeral services I am to conduct to-
 
 Dogberry in the Chair 315 
 
 morrow? Yes, sir, both before and after her 
 death." 
 
 "State the circumstances, if you please." 
 
 " I was returning from a pastoral visit to the fam- 
 ily of Mr. Joseph Eddy on the Blackstone turnpike, 
 about two miles from town, on the afternoon of 
 March fourteenth. To shorten the distance I took 
 a footpath across the fields and came home by way 
 of the North Bridge." 
 
 In his desire to abide by his affirmation the wit- 
 ness omitted no particular. 
 
 " I had crossed the bridge and was about half a 
 mile this side of it or it may have been three- 
 quarters when I met the deceased woman in 
 company with Dr. Egbert Dale. They were talk- 
 ing earnestly ; the woman seeming in great distress 
 of mind, or perhaps of body. When they perceived 
 me, both became silent, nor did they (so far as I 
 could determine) speak again until I was out of 
 earshot. They were walking towards the bridge. 
 I watched them until a turn in the road hid them 
 from my sight." 
 
 "Did they seem in a hurry to arrive at their 
 destination ? " 
 
 " No. They walked slowly. The woman looked 
 tired." 
 
 " Did you see the woman again that day? " 
 
 "I did not." 
 
 "Or Dr. Dale?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "About what time was it when you met them 
 near the North Bridge?" 
 
 "At five forty-five p. M." 
 
 " Can you speak positively as to the hour? " 
 
 "I heard the chimes in the cupola of the resort 
 known as The Bachelors' Club ring the quarters as 
 I passed the man and the woman."
 
 316 Dr. Dale 
 
 "Those chimes are usually correct, I believe? " 
 "They are the only correct thing in that " 
 " I object ! " Hendrickson was on the alert. 
 "Your Honour, the witness's ideas as to The Bach- 
 elors' Club have no place in this Inquest." 
 
 "Mr. Hendrickson, the Court will be obliged if 
 you will attend solely to the interests of your client 
 
 which are likely to need all your time and care 
 
 and not interfere in other matters," snapped 
 Kruger. 
 
 The lawyer smiled leisurely. 
 
 This smile was of a childlike and gentle strain, 
 and drove the Coroner furious each time it lighted 
 up Hendrickson's clean-shaven face. 
 
 " Dr. Egbert Dale ! " he vociferated savagely. 
 "You will take the stand!" 
 
 Again a hush fell upon the Court-room, as Dale, 
 calm and gravely unconcerned, walked to the wit- 
 ness's stand, bowed to his rival and sat down. 
 
 Hendrickson followed him closely, and stood lean- 
 ing lazily against the side of the Coroner's desk. 
 
 The combination aggravated Kruger's nervous- 
 ness. Hendrickson smiled as he observed his per- 
 turbation, and the smile changed the Coroner's 
 uneasiness to anger. 
 
 "I suppose I ought to apologise," he began, 
 sneering openly into the witness's stern, faultless 
 face, "for troubling a millionaire a plutocrat 
 with so menial a task as answering my questions. 
 But the law, Dr. Dale, is no respecter of persons; 
 at least not in Pitvale, where men are honest and 
 upright, even if they do earn their livelihood by the 
 sweat of their brows." 
 
 If he had hoped to make a favourable impression 
 upon the populace by this gallery-play, he was 
 disappointed. 
 
 A low growl of dissent arose from the centre of
 
 Dogberry in the Chair 317 
 
 the room where sat a bunch of oilmen. Something 
 very like a hiss was heard near the south windows. 
 
 "Order!" cried Kruger. "Dr. Dale! do these 
 people insult the Court at your instigation ? Do 
 you recognise the great solemnity of the occasion? 
 Are you informed who and what I am ? " 
 
 As Hendrickson turned half-way on his heel to 
 stare wonderingly into his face, the functionary lost 
 his head and coherence of words. 
 
 "Answer me that!" he spluttered, bending over 
 the desk and pointing a stubby forefinger into Dale's 
 face. " Are you informed who and what I am ? " 
 
 " I have had much useless information thrust upon 
 me from time to time," answered Dale, drily, as 
 Kruger paused for a reply. 
 
 A mighty guffaw, that ceased as abruptly as it had 
 started, broke from the audience. 
 
 " ORDER ! " screamed the Coroner, scarlet with 
 fury. "Dr. Dale! are you aware that I can commit 
 you for contempt of Court, and and and for 
 delaying and tampering with the ends of justice 
 in exciting this riot? " 
 
 "Your Honour!" broke in Hendrickson, peremp- 
 torily, and serious enough by now. "This is all 
 beside the point. My client, not knowing that he 
 would be called here to-day, could scarcely have 
 instigated a ' riot,' as you term it, for the purpose 
 of breaking in upon his testimony. Moreover, he 
 is ready to answer any relevant question you may 
 put to him. As he is a very busy man and has no 
 time to waste, may I ask your Honour to begin his 
 examination at once?" 
 
 For a whole minute lawyer and Coroner eyed each 
 other in silence while the crowd whispered together. 
 Then Kruger confronted Dale, and administered the 
 oath. 
 
 " Dr. Dale, " with forced composure, " three reput-
 
 3i8 Dr. Dale 
 
 able witnesses have deposed to seeing you with 
 the deceased Jane Doe on the afternoon of March 
 fourteenth. You are believed to have been the last 
 person seen with her alive. What answer have you 
 to make to this charge? " 
 
 " If your Honour will question me more directly, 
 I can answer more intelligently," replied Dale. "It 
 is difficult to refute a charge that has not been made, 
 and the nature of which I do not know." 
 
 " Did you, or did you not, see the deceased woman 
 known here as Jane Doe on the afternoon of March 
 fourteenth ? " 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "Who was she? " 
 
 " She did not tell me. I did not ask." 
 
 " She was not a friend of yours, then ? " 
 
 "She was not." 
 
 " Yet you were talking to her. " 
 
 " I am talking to your Honour now. " 
 
 Another mighty bob-tailed laugh jarred the 
 windows. 
 
 Dale glanced appealingly at the spectators. In 
 an instant the room was silent. 
 
 " You will gain nothing, sir, by impertinent re- 
 plies," growled Kruger, whose mental epidermis 
 Dale's last retort was just beginning to penetrate. 
 
 " If your Honour will confine yourself to pertinent 
 questions, my client will do his best to answer in 
 kind," suggested Hendrickson, smilingly. 
 
 "Will your client be good enough," Kruger 
 went on, swallowing his wrath visibly, "to tell us 
 the particulars of the interview or interviews 
 with the deceased woman on the afternoon of March 
 fourteenth? Or, to put it more pertinently, will 
 he tell us what he knows of her doings on that par- 
 ticular day? In short, why she came to his office, 
 how long she stayed there and how long they were
 
 Dogberry in the Chair 319 
 
 together in all ? The Court wants and will have 
 categorical answers to these questions. And no 
 gratuitous comments from witness or counsel." 
 
 His self-esteem mounted gratifyingly. He had 
 never done a handsomer thing. 
 
 " The woman in question " said Dale, amid a 
 general hush above which his rich voice arose 
 clear and calm "came to my office about half- 
 past eleven o'clock in the forenoon of March four- 
 teenth. She told me she had just come to town. 
 She was in search of her husband, who had practi- 
 cally deserted her. She had heard, she said, that 
 he was earning good wages in Pitvale, and she had 
 come here to live with him. My name had been 
 mentioned in one of his letters as a prominent 
 physician in the place, and she thought I might be 
 able to tell her something about him. 
 
 " She had travelled all night, and was fatigued 
 and faint from fasting. I made her lie down upon 
 the lounge in my private office, and telephoned to 
 The Bachelors' Club for a substantial luncheon for 
 her. This fact can be substantiated by the waiter 
 who brought the luncheon." 
 
 "Confine yourself to the line of evidence indi- 
 cated by the Court, if you please!" interjected the 
 Coroner, magisterially intolerant of side-issues. 
 
 " After she had eaten, she fell asleep upon 
 the lounge," Dale continued, unmoved by the re- 
 buke. " It was perhaps half-past four when she 
 awoke. " 
 
 "And you wish us to believe that, in all this 
 time, she had not told you the name of her hus- 
 band?" sneered the Coroner, incredulously. 
 
 " I did not say that. If your Honour had put the 
 question, I should have answered that his name was 
 the same as my own Dale," smiling slightly as he 
 said it.
 
 320 Dr. Dale 
 
 A big Irishman shot up in the heart of the crowd 
 like a derrick. 
 
 "Begorra!" he cried, in a voice thickened by 
 whiskey and excitement. "That would be Tom 
 Dale that worrked wid meself for two mont' in the 
 Landruss wells ! A dhrunken blagguard he wor, 
 an' skipped the town a week ago, owing iverybody 
 as would thrust him for the price av a dhrink ! " 
 
 "Order! Sit down, sir!" shouted Kruger, bring- 
 ing his fist down upon the desk. " Now Dr. 
 Dale!" with elaborate civility, "will you go on 
 with your story ? Had you ever heard of this Tom 
 Dale let me ask, first of all?" 
 
 " Never, until this instant. I had heard that sev- 
 eral oilmen who had come to Pitvale lately boarded 
 at the Eddy farmhouse on the Blackstone turnpike. 
 I knew that she could be comfortably lodged there, 
 even if she did not find the man she was looking for 
 among these new men. I offered to show her the 
 way and to give her a note to Mrs. Eddy. We 
 walked together as far as this end of the North 
 Bridge. The chimneys of the Eddy house can be 
 seen from there across the fields. I pointed it out 
 to her, and left her. I went directly home." 
 
 " After leaving her, you did not see her again that 
 day?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Kruger pondered blankly, pursing up his mouth 
 and tugging at his chin-whiskers. 
 
 "The Reverend Mr. Welsh has testified," he said 
 at last, "that the woman's eyes were red. Had she 
 been crying ? " 
 
 "She had." 
 
 " For what reason ? " 
 
 " She was tired, disheartened, and nervously ex- 
 cited. Then, too, she was afraid her husband would 
 be angry with her for coming."
 
 Dogberry in the Chair 321 
 
 " Ah ! she apprehended violence on his part ? Did 
 she say he had ever beaten or been unkind to her? " 
 
 Dale smiled again, very faintly. The questioner 
 bored, yet amused him. 
 
 " On the contrary, she said he had always treated 
 her kindly, while they lived together." 
 
 " You went directly home after leaving her. To 
 your office ? " 
 
 "No, to Mr. Bowersox's, where I am boarding." 
 
 "About what time did you get there? " 
 
 "At six fifty-five. The supper-hour is seven." 
 
 " You are sure as to the time ? " 
 
 "I am. I looked at the kitchen clock as I 
 entered." 
 
 " You arrived there at six fifty-five, you say. Mr. 
 Welsh has testified that he met you at five-forty- 
 five. Allowing that you walked to the bridge in 
 twenty minutes for he says you walked slowly 
 and allowing ten minutes for your instructions to 
 Jane Doe at this end of the bridge, that would 
 have given you forty-five minutes to cover the 
 two miles back to Mr. Bowersox's house. A long 
 time, Dr. Dale, for a brisk walker like yourself. 
 Are you sure you did not walk with her down the 
 other side of the creek as far, let us say as the 
 willows grow? " 
 
 Hendrickson struck into the examination, thor- 
 oughly aroused by the Coroner's palpable intention 
 to trip up the witness and the broader intent of the 
 concluding clause. 
 
 " Your Honour has said that the woman was evi- 
 dently killed on the other side of the creek, and 
 pointed out the probability that the current, which 
 we all know swirls violently across stream just op- 
 posite the spot where she was found, carried her 
 body to the mouth of the Glen. Suppose Dr. Dale 
 walked over the bridge with her, they sauntering 
 
 21
 
 322 Dr. Dale 
 
 along, as Mr. Welsh has testified. It is a measured 
 three miles not two, as your Honour has said inad- 
 vertently from the willows you have spoken of 
 below the North Bridge to the farmhouse of Mr. 
 Joachim Bowersox on the south side of the town. 
 Even so brisk a walker as Dr. Dale is reputed to 
 be, would have been put to it to cover that distance 
 in forty-five minutes. Without depreciating Dr. 
 Dale as an athlete, I doubt if he could keep that 
 up for three consecutive miles, up hill and down, 
 without winding himself." 
 
 The picture of the dignified physician traversing 
 the landscape at the rate of nine miles an hour 
 brought a giggle from the feminine portion of the 
 audience. 
 
 The men present did not smile. Kruger's evi- 
 dent desire to implicate the man they loved and 
 trusted in the dark deed they were considering, left 
 them too indignant for amusement, even if the Coro- 
 ner had failed to make his point. 
 
 "You say you reached home at six fifty-five, by 
 Mrs. Bowersox's kitchen clock," persisted Kruger, 
 nettled to obstinacy by the laughter. "Can you 
 prove it ? " 
 
 "I can. Mrs. Bowersox called me into the 
 kitchen the moment I reached the house. Her 
 little son had cut his wrist with a piece of glass. 
 She ran into the hall when I shut the front door 
 and asked me to attend to him at once. He was in 
 the kitchen. She said supper would be ready in 
 five minutes, but hoped I would not mind waiting a 
 little while. We both looked at the clock as she 
 said it. It was six fifty-five." 
 
 " Clerk ! " ordered the Coroner. " Send a mes- 
 senger to Mrs. Bowersox and ask her to step here. 
 Tell her it's an important matter. She must drop 
 everything and come. That will do for the present,
 
 Dogberry in the Chair 323 
 
 Dr. Dale. Stay in Court. I may have to recall 
 you." 
 
 Dale left the stand and went back to where he 
 and Hendrickson had been sitting before he was 
 called upon to testify. 
 
 John Bell led his sister to the place they had just 
 vacated.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 MRS. BOWERSOX TAKES THE STAND 
 
 " Examinations are formidable, even to the best prepared ; for the 
 greatest fool may ask more than the wisest man can answer." 
 
 "m mr iss MYRTLE BELL!" called out 
 
 ^L / II Kruger, perfunctorily, as Dale's eyes 
 ^k/ I met those of the girl. " Please take the 
 W I stand!" 
 
 "^^ Myrtle moved forward to the spot 
 designated. Her brother put her into the chair and 
 stood by her, his hand upon the back. 
 
 " Do you swear," continued Kruger, his eyes roam- 
 ing admiringly over the spirited face and simple yet 
 elegant cloth gown, " to tell the truth, the whole truth, 
 and nothing but the truth, to the best of your knowl- 
 edge and belief so help you, GOD? " 
 
 At his gesture, the clerk of the Court thrust the 
 greasy Court Bible into the girl's face. 
 
 For one rapt instant she forgot where she was. 
 The words carried her back to the time when she 
 had, in feigned playfulness, quoted part of the oath 
 to Dale. Again she heard the love-shaken voice 
 murmur, " So help me, GOD ! " The breath of the 
 warmed violets mingled with the roses in her fancy ; 
 she trembled under the ardent gaze of the deep, glo- 
 rious eyes. A dreamy smile stole into her own eyes, 
 while her lips were grave; she became, all at once, 
 fearless and collected. 
 
 One of the hundreds who were gazing at her, saw 
 and understood the love-light that came and was gone 
 in a second, and worshipped her afar off. 
 
 The touch of the ill-smelling Bible, worn and em-
 
 Mrs. Bowersox takes the Stand 325 
 
 bellished by contact with countless oil-grimed hands, 
 recalled her rudely to the actual and the present. 
 She bent her head and brushed the book lightly with 
 her firm lips. 
 
 " Miss Bell," said the Coroner, raspingly, " Miss 
 Katharine Meagley has testified to seeing the de- 
 ceased Jane Doe in your company on the forenoon 
 of March the fourteenth. Were you acquainted with 
 the deceased woman?" 
 
 " I was not." 
 
 " How did you happen to be walking with her?" 
 
 " She asked the way to a certain house, and I 
 walked a short distance to show her where it was. I 
 never saw her before, nor do I know who she was." 
 
 " What was the ' certain house ' to which you di- 
 rected her?" 
 
 " Dr. Dale's office," replied the girl, the clear 
 girlish voice forcing the words reluctantly. While 
 the ingenuous eyes did not droop, her face flushed 
 warmly, i 
 
 " Why should she have applied to you for that 
 information? Why should she suppose you were 
 better able to direct her to Dr. Dale's office than 
 any other of the many people she must have met in 
 the streets of a strange city?" 
 
 " I object ! " called Hendrickson. " That question 
 is irrelevant, immaterial, and incompetent." 
 
 His quick eye had noted the witness's blush, and 
 the spasm of anger that wrung Dale's features. He 
 threw himself forward to guard both of them, with 
 professional jealousy and friendly promptness. 
 
 Again Kruger, frightened by the long words, as a 
 wolf is fire-scared from a camp, waived the question. 
 
 " Please tell us all you know of this woman." 
 
 Briefly and clearly Myrtle told how and where she 
 had met the stranger, and then the story of finding 
 the body in the snow. She was serious, self-possessed,
 
 326 Dr. Dale 
 
 and modestly dignified. Her brother's eyes rested 
 pridefully upon her. In his far corner the lover lost 
 not a word or look, and thought what God and he 
 knew. 
 
 Kruger made no attempt to shake her testimony. 
 
 " That will do, Miss Bell," he said patronisingly, 
 as she finished. " Or, stay ! When you mentioned 
 afterwards to Dr. Dale that you had sent a lady to his 
 office and and maybe joked him a little about his 
 mysterious visitor, what did he say? Did he appear 
 confused? or give you an evasive answer? or what?" 
 
 Myrtle's honest eyes looked inquiringly into his. 
 
 " I beg your pardon? " she said tentatively. 
 
 " Why," explained Kruger, with elephantine play- 
 fulness, " you and Dr. Dale board in the same house, 
 and are no doubt quite chummy and all that, you 
 know. When he came home to supper that night, I 
 suppose you teased him a little on the subject, did n't 
 you? Just light table-talk, you know, such as any 
 lady might engage in. Sort of breezy badinage 
 eh?" 
 
 " I 'm afraid I hardly understand you," said the girl, 
 slowly. " I should not think of questioning a phy- 
 sician about his patients." 
 
 " Oh, perhaps not ! But he may have volunteered 
 some remark about this one. That would be very 
 natural for any man, talking over his day's work at 
 the table. Did n't he?" 
 
 " Dr. Dale has never spoken of his professional 
 work in my hearing. I have always understood that 
 it is considered dishonourable for physicians to discuss 
 their patients with outsiders." 
 
 Her eyes had not left his. She spoke as one who 
 states a general principle, without temper and with 
 cool civility. 
 
 "She can take care of herself! " said Hendrickson 
 in Dale's ear. " Blood and breeding will tell ! "
 
 Mrs. Bower sox takes the Stand 327 
 
 Kruger looked stupidly at the witness, dimly sus- 
 pecting he had received a rebuke, yet hazy as to the 
 exact nature of it. He had tried to adapt himself to 
 the vein of persiflage he supposed " society people " 
 used. He felt that he had somehow failed. 
 
 " Oh ! " he said again ; then, " That is all at pres- 
 ent, Miss Bell. Thank you ! " 
 
 As Myrtle left the stand, the coroner addressed 
 the clerk querulously, 
 
 " Has n't Mrs. Bowersox put in an appearance 
 yet? " 
 
 " Here I am ! " came in decided tones from the 
 audience, and, people parting good-naturedly to let 
 her thread the close ranks, Mrs. Bowersox made her 
 way to the platform on which were the Coroner's desk 
 and chair. 
 
 She had evidently obeyed the injunction to " drop 
 everything and come." Her purple calico was the 
 same she had worn at the breakfast-table, and, 
 although clean and smooth, was indubitably a work- 
 ing-day gown. Her bonnet was askew, her cloak 
 was buttoned crookedly. She had the air of a fat 
 elderly woman overblown by exercise. She fanned 
 her florid face with her folded handkerchief as she 
 spoke, face to face, with the frowning official. 
 
 " What upon earth could you want of me, Sam 
 Kruger? It beats me to know what put it into your 
 head to think that I'd know anything about the poor 
 dear that I never clapped eyes on, living or dead." 
 
 She was as nearly out of humour as her nature and 
 her religion ever suffered her to be. 
 
 " Take the stand, Mrs. Bowersox ! " commanded 
 Kruger, loftily. 
 
 And, as the worthy soul established herself in the 
 chair designated by a grinning attendant, amid a 
 general ripple of merriment, and gazed up per- 
 plexedly at him "In addressing me, please say
 
 328 Dr. Dale 
 
 ' Your Honour.' It is the custom in speaking to the 
 presiding officer of the Court." 
 
 "Your Honour !" echoed Mrs. Bowersox, in genuine 
 amazement, suspending her fanning. " For goodness' 
 sake, Sam Kruger ! I 've known you, man and boy, 
 these twenty-odd years. And your father, poor 
 dear man ! before you. It 's late in the day for you 
 to be putting on frills with me, Sam ! " 
 
 The laughing Hendrickson left his seat as Kruger 
 tried in vain to silence a howl of delight from the 
 spectators. The lawyer said a few words to the 
 witness in a low tone, then turned to the Coroner. 
 
 " Your Honour ! The witness did not understand 
 the nature of your present office. I have explained 
 it to her. I am certain that, if you will overlook her 
 lack of legal experience, she will give you no further 
 trouble." 
 
 " None at all ! not a mite ! " Mrs. Bowersox 
 hastened to say agreeably. " I 'm only too glad to 
 be of any help to the law gracious knows, Sam! 
 I mean, Your Honour ! I '11 answer any questions you 
 choose to put. Now I 'm here, I 'm in no hurry. If 
 it is baking-day and " 
 
 " Give me your attention, please ! " said Kruger, 
 lunging portentously upon each syllable. " Did you 
 ever see or hear of the deceased Jane Doe before 
 the finding of her body on the afternoon of March 
 the twenty-sixth in the present year? " 
 
 " The deceased Jane Doe whose body was 
 found day before yesterday." 
 
 " Oh-h ! the poor dear who was froze to death ! 
 I did n't know, just at first, who you meant. And 
 you've found out her name at last? Jane Doe! 
 Well ! well ! well ! I used to know a family of Does 
 over Pittsburgh way, before I was married. I wonder 
 if she was any relation to them? "
 
 Mrs. Bowersox takes the Stand 329 
 
 " Order ! " yelled Kruger, as the audience shrieked 
 anew. 
 
 " Mrs. Bowersox ! The deceased is designated by 
 the Court as Jane Doe, merely because her name is 
 not yet known. It is a legal term." 
 
 " Oh-h ! you just call her that? I see ! Seems to 
 me you might have thought up a nicer name while 
 you were about it. For instance " 
 
 " You are wasting the time of the Court, Mrs. 
 Bowersox ! " reproved Kruger. " Please attend 
 closely to my questions and answer as briefly as 
 possible. Dr. Dale is a lodger in your house, I 
 believe? " 
 
 " You know he is ! Why, only last week, you " 
 
 " Do you remember," hurried on the Coroner, 
 " at what hour he reached home on the evening of 
 March fourteenth the evening of the thunder- 
 storm ? " 
 
 " We always have supper at seven. And Dr. Dale 
 is pretty prompt. That is, unless he 's kept out by 
 some patient or other, poor dear gentleman ! He 's 
 got an awfully big practice, you know. And even 
 then he sends word when he can by telephone, 
 you know " 
 
 " I ask when he came home on the evening of 
 March the fourteenth ! " interposed Kruger, impa- 
 tiently. " Did he or did he not come in to supper 
 on that particular night ? " 
 
 "Why, how should I know? It was all of a fort- 
 night ago. You can't expect me " 
 
 " Let me refresh your memory with his Honour's 
 permission, of course ! " interrupted Hendrickson, 
 who had remained near the desk. " Mrs. Bowersox ! 
 do you recollect the night your little boy cut his 
 wrist so badly with a piece of glass?" 
 
 " I should say I did ! Why, the poor dear would 
 have bled to death if Dr. Dale had n't happened to
 
 330 Dr. Dale 
 
 come in, in the very nick of time, and plastered him 
 up. There never was another such child for acci- 
 dents. I always say that I can't realise Jeff at any 
 time. But it passes me where he got his talent for 
 getting into scrapes." 
 
 " At what time did Dr. Dale get home that even- 
 ing? " The lawyer led her gently back to the 
 point. " You are sure it was the fourteenth of 
 March ? " 
 
 "I ain't likely to forget it! Why, that was the 
 night poor dear Ralph Folger died, and the steel 
 tank was struck, and mercy knows what other awful 
 things happened. I remember, because I had a lot 
 of bother getting poor dear Jeff to sleep after his 
 wrist was bandaged, and I just couldn't sing ' The 
 Hollow of His Hand ' to suit him, and Miss Bell 
 not being at home, she could n't sing it for him, and 
 he was just getting sort of quiet when the cannon 
 went off" 
 
 " Exactly ! " assented Hendrickson, insinuatingly. 
 " And that was the night of March fourteenth." 
 
 " Of course it was ! Just as I was saying, Pitvale 
 ain't likely to forget that date. If only because poor, 
 dear Ralph Folger as nice and friendly a boy " 
 
 " Quite so ! And you say Dr. Dale came in punc- 
 tually to supper that night? " 
 
 " I know he did. At least " 
 
 " At least what? " cut in the Coroner, sharply. 
 
 " At least, I 'm pretty sure. I remember the kitchen 
 clock began to strike seven just as Dr. Dale was 
 dressing Jeff's poor dear wrist." 
 
 " Had you spoken of the time before that? " pur- 
 sued Hendrickson, in his suavest tone. 
 
 " Now you mention it, of course I had ! I had 
 Jeff at the sink, running cold water on the cut, and 
 he trying to be brave, as I will say for him he always 
 tries to be, poor dear ! and Anneke that 's my cook
 
 Mrs. Bower sox takes the Stand 331 
 
 says, ' There 's Dr. Dale now ! ' and out I ran, and 
 there he was hanging his hat on the rack in the hall. 
 And he came straight into the kitchen and as he 
 took hold of poor dear Jeffs hand I recollected that 
 he 'd likely be in a hurry to get away after supper, 
 and says I, looking at the clock, ' I 'm afraid this will 
 keep your supper waiting, doctor? It'll be ready at 
 seven o'clock, and it 's five minutes of now.' And says 
 he, ' I '11 have this all done before long.' He never 
 wastes words Dr. Dale does n't. He and I are 
 alike in that. And as true 's you live, as the clock 
 struck seven, he put the first stitch in the bandage on 
 the poor dear wrist." 
 
 A stir of deep satisfaction went through the room, 
 like the rustle of leaves in a sudden breeze. People 
 felt, and looked the feeling, that the persecution of a 
 successful man by an unsuccessful rival was at an 
 end. An alibi was established beyond the shadow 
 of even an envious man's doubt. 
 
 Kruger was brutal in his instincts, and he had the 
 bull-dog's tenacity of purpose and hold. He set his 
 heavy jaw squarely ; obstinacy gleamed redly in his 
 narrowed eyes. 
 
 " Was that clock right ? " he demanded harshly. 
 
 " It's always right. Been so for seventy-odd years. 
 It belonged to Father poor dear soul ! and he 
 always said " 
 
 " You declare, upon your oath you Ve taken an 
 oath, recollect, Mrs. Bowersox ! that your clock is 
 always right? " 
 
 " It 's always right, I tell you, Sam your Honour ! 
 That is " her passion for truth-telling getting the 
 better of pride in the heirloom, " except, of course, 
 the time my Jeff set it forward a whole hour, and got 
 us all up at peep o' day, and made " 
 
 " How do you know your son didn't set it back on 
 March fourteenth?"
 
 33 2 Dr. Dale 
 
 " I don't really know, of course. Only he never 
 has been known to do the same naughty thing twice. 
 Especially after what I said to " 
 
 " You cannot swear he did n't ? " 
 
 " No ! but I 'm pretty sure he would n't. And I 
 had said to him " 
 
 " You admit that he may have done it again ? " 
 
 " He may have ! " repeated the dazed mother, 
 slowly, beginning, despite her better self, to believe 
 in Jeff's turpitude after all this nagging iteration. 
 " I '11 ask him the very minute I get home. And if 
 he did " 
 
 " So you think it likely he had tampered with the 
 clock?" 
 
 " I should n't really wonder, now you put it that 
 way, if he had the bad boy ! " 
 
 The witness was getting bewildered. A motherly, 
 home-staying hen, straying between the two opposing 
 lines in the heat of battle, would not have felt more 
 out of place. 
 
 One idea stuck fast in her mind in the maze: she 
 must tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
 the truth. ~- 
 
 Kruger followed up his advantage cleverly. 
 
 " I can understand, being a father myself, that you 
 are grieved by the thought of your boy's disobedi- 
 ence. And he had, perhaps, promised not to touch 
 the clock again." 
 
 " He had," chokingly; " and mischievous as he is, 
 I never knew Jeff to tell a lie." 
 
 " I don't believe he did. Let us think the matter 
 over coolly. Did n't it seem later than seven o'clock 
 when Dr. Dale got home?" 
 
 " It certainly seemed very late ! " agreed the wit- 
 ness, eagerly. " I said to Anneke while we were 
 trying to stop the bleeding, ' This is the longest day 
 I ever spent ! Where can Dr. Dale be all this time? '
 
 Mrs. Bowersox takes the Stand 333 
 
 I just said it because I was so impatient for him to 
 come, I suppose. I said, ' This is the longest day I 
 ever spent. Where can ' ' 
 
 "Would you be willing to swear that the clock 
 struck seven after Dr. Dale came? Could it have 
 been eight? Think of it carefully, Mrs. Bowersox, 
 before you answer. Can you declare, before God 
 and man, that it was not eight that struck? In your 
 flurry and distress, and by lamplight, maybe you 
 made a mistake when you looked at the clock. I 
 know that faithful old timepiece well. But it stands in 
 a rather dark corner when the sun is down. Can you 
 swear the clock did not strike eight, and not seven? " 
 
 " Mercy sakes, no ! I won't swear to any such 
 thing ! It would be a terrible sin if it happened that 
 the clock did strike eight, and not seven. Yet I 'm 
 sure " 
 
 "You aren't sure it was n't eight o'clock? As a 
 matter of fact, it now seems to you as if it must have 
 been eight, and not seven, doesn't it? The day 
 seeming so long, and the evening so dark ? " 
 
 "I don't know, Sam ! your Honour, I mean ! " 
 panted the badgered woman. " Maybe it was ! Come 
 to think of it " 
 
 " Well ! " sharply. " Speak out ! you are wasting 
 the time of the Court! " 
 
 This put to flight the last vestige of self-possession, 
 dissipated the remnant of memory. 
 
 "I I " she began, then ended weakly, " Maybe 
 'twas!" 
 
 "The more you think it over the more you are 
 impressed by the idea that it was eight o'clock?" 
 pursued Kruger. 
 
 " I don't know ! That is yes ! I suppose it must 
 have been ! " 
 
 " That will do, Mrs. Bowersox ! " announced her 
 tormentor, leaning back in triumph.
 
 334 Dr. Dale 
 
 Hendrickson came forward : 
 
 " One moment if you please ! Your Honour, I 
 should like to cross-examine this witness in behalf of 
 my client. You have tangled her ideas until she 
 hardly knows what she is saying. Mrs. Bowersox," 
 gently and persuasively, " you said a few minutes 
 ago, that you were sure the clock struck seven when 
 Dr. Dale began dressing Jeff's wrist. Isn't that 
 still your impression? Take time to think it over 
 calmly. No one wants to force your convictions. 
 We all know how conscientious you are, and will be- 
 lieve what you say when you are left to yourself." 
 
 The relief came too late. Mrs. Bowersox's flaccid 
 brain was one mazy jumble whence came no assured 
 knowledge. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ! I don't know ! " she murmured 
 distressfully. "The more I think of it ' seems to 
 me, the more I don't know ! But ' seems to me, 
 maybe 'twas eight ! " 
 
 In her extremity, Mrs. Bowersox talked strangely 
 as Jeff would talk in like circumstances. 
 
 "Much may depend on your answer," went on 
 Hendrickson, impressively. " Think again, please ! " 
 
 " I can't tell a lie about it, Mr. Hendrickson ! " 
 sobbed the witness, breaking down miserably under 
 the protracted strain. " And the more I think of it 
 now after what Sam Kruger his Honour Kruger, 
 I mean said why the more it seems it must have 
 been eight, and not seven." 
 
 "That is all, Mrs. Bowersox," said Hendrickson, 
 seeing he could not hope to restore present order to 
 the chaos the Coroner had created in her mind. 
 
 Mrs. Bowersox left the stand in tears. She stood, 
 helpless and bewildered, for a moment, before the 
 Bench, not knowing which way to turn. 
 
 Dr. Dale his mask-like expression broken into 
 one of infinite compassion for the poor old woman's
 
 Mrs. Bowersox takes the Stand 335 
 
 plight took her hand, and with words of whispered 
 comfort led her to a seat beside Myrtle, who rose to 
 receive her from his hands. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Bell ! what did they ask me all those 
 questions for?" whispered Mrs. Bowersox, chokingly. 
 " What did all that have to do with that poor dear 
 dead person ? " 
 
 " I don't know," answered Myrtle. " I can't at all 
 comprehend what he 's trying to prove." 
 
 Hendrickson stooped toward them, and spoke low : 
 
 " I will tell you, then. The ass hates Dale, and 
 he 's doing his best to mix him up in the case, some- 
 how, with a view to disgracing him." 
 
 " And I helped him do it ! " ejaculated Mrs. Bow- 
 ersox, clambering to her feet by laying hold of the 
 lawyer's arm, tears giving way to indignation. " Sam 
 Kruger ! do you mean to " 
 
 " ORDER ! " shouted Kruger. "Deputy Sheriff! if 
 that person interrupts the Inquest again, remove her 
 from the room. Dr. Dale ! " glancing at a slip of 
 paper a boy had just laid on his desk. " Please take 
 the stand once more." 
 
 On the slip of paper was pencilled, 
 
 "Ask Dr. Dale where and with whom he was in 
 the habit of spending the hour between six and seven 
 P. M. during the two months preceding the murder. 
 
 " Ask him where and in whose company he was 
 during that hour on the evening of the day before he 
 was seen with the dead woman. 
 
 "Ask him what is the nature of his relations with 
 Miss Belir 
 
 No name was signed. The handwriting although 
 this Kruger did not know was Kate Meagley's. 
 
 " Dr. Dale," said the Coroner, deliberately, as one 
 feeling his way, step by step, " I must ask you to
 
 Dr. Dale 
 
 give me true answers true, direct answers mind 
 you ! to the following questions." 
 
 He consulted the paper while speaking, puzzled, 
 yet intent upon following the new trail. 
 
 " If I give you any answers, they will be true ones," 
 answered Dale, impassively. 
 
 " I trust so ! " said Kruger, accenting the verb ever 
 so slightly, but with disagreeable significance. " Dr. 
 Dale, you have sworn that between the hours of six 
 and seven on the evening of March fourteenth you 
 were on your way to Mrs. Bowersox's house. Where 
 were you, and with whom, between the same hours 
 on the preceding evening?" 
 
 For the fraction of a second Dale seemed to hesi- 
 tate. In that fraction of a second he saw a firelit 
 room, a halo of flame-kissed hair bending above 
 him, and half heard a voice that breathed, " Love ! 
 my Love ! " 
 
 " I refuse to answer that question," he said coldly. 
 " It has no bearing upon the case." 
 
 " No ? " sneered Kruger. " I fancy we will prove 
 otherwise presently." 
 
 The anonymous hint was working to a charm and 
 he was elate. 
 
 " Now, then ! " he continued. " You refuse to an- 
 swer, do you ? On the ground that it has no 
 bearing on the case in hand ? When you have 
 answered me, perhaps the Court can judge better 
 than you what bearing it may have. I demand a 
 reply ! " 
 
 " I shall not give it." 
 
 " We will come back to that later," pursued Kruger. 
 " Though you refuse to say where you were on that 
 particular evening, you will hardly object to telling 
 where and in whose company you were in the habit 
 of spending that hour of the day during the two 
 months preceding the murder."
 
 Mrs. Bower sox takes the Stand 337 
 
 " I object ! " interrupted Hendrickson, rising. "This 
 surely cannot affect the case in hand." 
 
 " Sit down, sir ! " thundered Kruger, springing to 
 his feet. " And keep silent ! Now, Dr. Dale ! I ask 
 you again, where and in whose company were you 
 between six and seven o'clock on the night preceding 
 that on which you were first seen with the deceased 
 Jane Doe ? Also, where and in whose company 
 did you usually spend that hour during the two 
 months preceding the murder ? " 
 
 " I refuse to answer either question." 
 
 An expectant rustle ran over the crowd. 
 
 It encouraged the Coroner, as his master's voice 
 urges on a tired horse. Still standing, and raising 
 his right arm to add force to the words, he leaned 
 toward Dale and said slowly, 
 
 " I demand a straightforward reply ! It may throw 
 a new and interesting light upon this important case. 
 Listen to me, if you please, and answer me truthfully, 
 when I put another question ! " 
 
 He paused for effect, and again five hundred necks 
 were craned forward 'in breathless expectancy. 
 
 Kruger was by no means sure how his next ques- 
 tion would affect the matter in hand, but the first two 
 anonymous suggestions had borne fruit, and he had 
 hope of the third. 
 
 " Dr. Dale ! " portentously, bringing his face to a 
 level with that of the man on the floor below the 
 desk, " what are your relations with " 
 
 Dale stepped close to him. His face went hid- 
 eously white. His mouth was a mere line in the 
 ashen face ; the dark eyes glittered and glowed like 
 a lightning-stroke that arrested the word upon the 
 Coroner's lips. 
 
 " Speak that name " he whispered so low that 
 
 none but Kruger heard him " and by ! I will 
 
 kill you where you stand."
 
 338 Dr. Dale 
 
 For a moment the men one white, calm, and 
 deadly, the other florid and blustering eyed each 
 other. 
 
 Those who were nearest Kruger vowed afterward 
 that they saw the florid face blanch, and the fear of 
 sudden death creep into the round bulging eyes. 
 
 Then the Coroner dropped back into his chair, and 
 waved his hand feebly. 
 
 "That is all for the present Dr. Dale!" he 
 said.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE COMMITTAL 
 
 " The mob is a blind, unwieldy monster which, at first, rattles its 
 heavy bones, threatening to swallow the high and low, the near and 
 distant, with gaping jaws, and, at last, stumbles over a thread." 
 
 KRUGER leaned back in his seat and 
 glowered vindictively at Dale as the latter 
 left the stand and returned to the bench 
 against the wall where Hendrickson sat. 
 The Coroner did not go on at once with 
 the Inquest, but sat peering from under his shaggy 
 brows at the man who had defied him. 
 
 It is not pleasant to be cowed. When the cowing 
 is public, the process is humiliating. 
 
 Myrtle Bell had slipped from the Court-room with 
 Mrs. Bowersox after the examination of that worthy 
 woman, and by alternate coaxing and reasoning had 
 induced her to go home in the carriage that had 
 brought the Bells into town. Then Miss Bell 
 had returned to her brother's side in the hall. 
 Kruger had noted how respectfully the crowd made 
 way for her. 
 
 She had insulted him. He was not sure just how 
 or to what extent. He would have to think the 
 matter over and rehearse the dialogue before he 
 could decide. But she had insulted him, and the 
 Court in him. There was no doubt on that head. 
 He wished he had forced Dale to answer that ques- 
 tion as to his " relations " with her. Something lay 
 back of, and under the query, something that might 
 cut the comb of the upstart who had taken so many 
 loaves of daily bread out of his mouth.
 
 340 Dr. Dale 
 
 " I suppose he thinks I am afraid of him ! " mused 
 the Court, wrathfully. 
 
 The sullen glow turned upon the six jurors. As 
 was his prerogative, Kruger had chosen his jury 
 from his own small circle of friends. A country 
 coroner has that privilege. Most of the six were in 
 his debt. All were under his thumb in one way or 
 another. None chanced to belong to the Folger 
 wells or to The Bachelors' Club. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Jury ! " began the Coroner, 
 clearing his throat noisily and expectorating into 
 a cuspidor below the desk, before sitting up stiff 
 and straight as beseemed his office. " We have 
 heard about all the testimony necessary, I guess. 
 
 "We have here a painful duty to perform, but a 
 necessary one. A woman is found murdered. With 
 whom did she spend the last day (presumably) of 
 her mortal life? Who was she seen with last? 
 Who has wilfully and deliberately misstated the 
 hour of his return from his walk with this woman? 
 Who has refused obstinately to say where he has 
 been lately, spending his time between certain 
 hours the time during which the woman was 
 killed (presumably)? In fact, to whom does the 
 finger of guilt point with an unerring an an 
 unerring finger? 
 
 " At Dr. Egbert Dale, Gentlemen of the Jury, and 
 at no one else! I instruct you, Gentlemen of the 
 Jury, to bring in a verdict to that effect. 
 
 "Here " handing the open leather-bound book 
 to the foreman " on page 467, you will find the 
 different forms of verdict. Retire, and come to a 
 decision." 
 
 Solemnly the six functionaries filed into a side 
 room, the foreman taking the law-book with him, 
 another man carrying a pen and an ink-bottle, a 
 third bearing two sheets of foolscap.
 
 The Committal 341 
 
 " What is all this ? " exclaimed Myrtle, as they 
 left the hall. 
 
 She had listened incredulously to Kruger's charge, 
 and now turned wondering eyes upon her brother. 
 He smiled reassuringly. He did not look worried, 
 still less alarmed. 
 
 " Hush ! " he whispered. " It is only a formality. 
 Of course Kruger would injure Dale if he could. 
 He hates him because he is successful and popular. 
 In his position as Coroner, Kruger can annoy him. 
 He knows as well as I do that no Grand Jury on 
 earth would hold Egbert upon such flimsy evidence. 
 But he hopes to degrade him and to profit by his 
 degradation. He feels he has a long score to pay 
 off. The attempt will harm nobody but himself. 
 All we have to do is to be patient." 
 
 The body of spectators took a less philosophical 
 view of Kruger's act. An ugly muttering ran 
 through the room, gathering force where groups of 
 oilmen sat together, and sharpening to a shrill, 
 flustered whisper of indignation as it reached the 
 women huddled in one corner. With every mo- 
 ment of waiting the murmur waxed louder and 
 deeper. There lacked little to change it into a 
 roar. 
 
 Again Kruger's florid complexion was a shade 
 less ruddy. But a railing and his raised desk were 
 between him and the malcontents; a door was be- 
 hind him. And, despite his flinching before Dale's 
 eyes, the bully was not a coward. 
 
 The Jury re-entered the Court-room. They had 
 been gone four minutes. Just long enough for the 
 foreman's unpractised hand to scrawl a verdict. 
 
 He handed the sheet of foolscap to the Coroner, 
 then sat down, looking important. 
 
 Kruger cleared his voice anew, glanced over the 
 paper, stood up, and read aloud :
 
 342 Dr. Dale 
 
 " We, the undersigned jurors, find that the deceased Jane 
 Doe came to her death by a blow on the head at the hands 
 of Dr. Egbert Dale. 
 
 Signed JOHN HOOKER. 
 
 ASA BRINKERHOFF. 
 THOMAS SMITH. 
 WILHELM VAN WAGNEN. 
 JOHN F. POSTHANGER. 
 EDMUND DE HART, Foreman.' 1 '' 
 
 The silence that followed the reading was more 
 terrible than any outcry would have been. Dale 
 had sat with folded arms and downcast eyes, his 
 features absolutely immobile, since he resumed his 
 seat. 
 
 Now he looked Kruger full in the face. The fury 
 that had transformed him into an avenging spirit 
 ten minutes ago, had given place to his wonted 
 gravity; the eyes that met Kruger's no longer 
 blazed. They were tranquil, and perhaps a shade 
 contemptuous. 
 
 Kruger's gaze fell. Again he ransacked the pages 
 of his law-book, turning them fast and nervously. 
 
 The stillness grew oppressive ominous. 
 
 "Well!" drawled an oilman from the middle of 
 the room. " What are you going to do about it ? " 
 
 The tension snapped. There was a hoarse guffaw 
 from all sides. Men looked shamefacedly at one 
 another. They had actually been afraid, for a mo- 
 ment, that some harm threatened Dale. The inter- 
 ruption had restored their senses. They were again 
 disposed to look on the whole affair of the Inquest 
 as a farce. 
 
 The laughter brought Kruger to his feet with a 
 bound. 
 
 " Order ! Order ! " he called. Then " Dr. Egbert 
 Dale ! this intelligent Jury of your peers finds you
 
 The Committal 343 
 
 guilty of the deceased Jane Doe's dec death. In 
 my capacity as Coroner, I must bind you over to a 
 magistrate who will hold you to await the next sit- 
 ting of the Grand Jury. 
 
 "Deputy Sheriff! send across to Squire Worten- 
 dyke and ask him to step here. He's the nearest 
 Justice of the Peace." 
 
 The Coroner finished his speech without inter- 
 ruption. The ominous silence again gripped the 
 tongues and dazed the senses of the crowd. 
 
 Myrtle made one convulsive movement toward her 
 lover, hands clasped and a stifled exclamation of 
 horror upon her lips. John checked her, and whis- 
 pered reassuringly in her ear. 
 
 Dale had not moved a muscle. His only expres- 
 sion was one of weariness approaching boredom. 
 
 And still the bodeful silence hung, like a pall, 
 over the throng for full twenty seconds. 
 
 Then the burly Irishman who had interrupted 
 Dale's testimony, again uplifted his voice, 
 
 "Is the man a starrk, starring fool? It's Tom 
 Dale he should be afther not an innocent man 
 and a gintleman!" 
 
 A figure shot up against the rear wall of the room, 
 long, lank, bronzed, and bearded. 
 
 Kruger recognised him as a former ranchman from 
 Southern Arizona who had followed the oil-boom to 
 Pitvale, bringing his wife with him. She had fallen 
 ill, and Kruger was called in. Not until he had 
 declared that she and her unborn child must both 
 die, was Dale summoned in consultation by the 
 frantic husband. Mother and child were saved. 
 This was just after the second blasting of "The 
 Ruth," and the tale of one physician's failure and 
 the other's skill was fresh in men's minds. 
 
 Kruger frowned heavily, but the man merely 
 waved his wide-brimmed hat airily in his direction
 
 344 Dr. Dale 
 
 and to attract the notice of his audience, then began 
 his speech. 
 
 " Gents ! " he uttered sombrely. " Which the 
 Boys would take this Kruger party, if we was back 
 in Arizony, and they 'd string him up a lot, on the 
 business-end of a lariat, connected with the first 
 tree that wasn't otherwise engaged at the moment, 
 fer compilin' of a verdick of thet natur'. If any 
 gent within the sound of my voice will concoct a 
 motion to thet effect, I 'm here to say I '11 shorely 
 back his play up to the limit." 
 
 The odd diction did not provoke a smile. It 
 served, however, to start again the sullen murmur 
 which sprang up now from twenty points at once, 
 with increasing vehemence. 
 
 " I 'm in on that deal ! " yelled a grimy oilman. 
 
 " String up the Coroner ! " bawled a Tough, 
 gleefully. 
 
 The cry went like wild-fire. Every man was on 
 his feet. Every woman screamed who did not faint. 
 
 "Order!" shrieked Kruger, in an impotent effort 
 to stem the torrent. 
 
 The only response was a general movement of 
 the disorganised mass towards the railing separat- 
 ing the Coroner's enclosure from the rest of the 
 room. 
 
 Kruger made a hasty backward step towards the 
 little door behind his desk. 
 
 "He 's gettin' away!" howled the Tough who had 
 proposed stringing up the Coroner. " Rush him, 
 boys ! " 
 
 The rail snapped and splintered like kindling- 
 wood before the onrush. Kruger dashed for the 
 little door, recoiling from it as if the knob had 
 burned him. It was locked ! 
 
 A laugh loud, harsh, exultant rose from the 
 crowd. There were no longer men among them,
 
 The Committal 345 
 
 merely atoms in that unthinking, unhuman, pitiless 
 Horror we call a Mob. 
 
 Already the first hand the ranchman's had 
 clutched the skirt of Kruger's coat, when the assail- 
 ant was sent spinning back among his fellows. 
 
 "Back!" commanded a voice that pierced the 
 uproar like a bugle-call. " Back, men ! Back, and 
 listen to me ! " 
 
 Changed as were the intonations, more than one 
 hearer recognised the voice that had soothed a sick 
 child to sleep, or spoken words of sympathy in 
 squalid homes. 
 
 There was a perceptible check in the angry wave 
 that had just now threatened to engulf the obnoxious 
 Coroner. All eyes turned upward to where, on the 
 dais at Kruger's side, stood Egbert Dale. 
 
 One arm was raised to enforce silence. The ter- 
 rified Kruger clung, shuddering, to the other. 
 
 "What were you about to do?" demanded Dale, 
 as the tumult subsided. " This man has done what 
 he believed to be his duty. Would you hang him 
 for t/tat? Is there a man among you who would 
 come forward, alone, and deliberately murder him? 
 There is not one ! Yet, if he is killed, every one of 
 you will bear the curse of murder upon your souls. 
 And for what good? At the worst, I shall be im- 
 prisoned for a few days. My arrest is nothing but a 
 legal formality." 
 
 The mob, quieted for a moment, began to stir 
 uneasily and to growl angrily. It was silenced, not 
 appeased. 
 
 "For God's sake, men!" pleaded Dale, feeling 
 throbbing in the deep voice, his soul in his eyes, 
 "don't ruin by a single mad act the work John Bell 
 and I have tried for years to do ! We have worked 
 hard to make you better, happier, more comfortable. 
 Our best energies our very lives, have been spent
 
 346 Dr. Dale 
 
 in your service. Was it all for nothing? Is Pit- 
 vale still the lawless, drunken community of three 
 years ago? Where is the improvement you prided 
 yourselves which we prided ourselves upon? In 
 the presence of women your wives and daughters 
 in the presence of a minister of the gospel of 
 peace would you murder an innocent man ? You 
 are angry with Dr. Kruger because you think he is 
 committing me to jail unjustly." 
 
 " He 'd better not ! " cried a voice. 
 
 " He can do nothing else, believing what he does. 
 Are you going to commit a more grievous fault by 
 killing him without trial ? And you are the men I 
 was proud to call my friends ! " 
 
 A muttering this time of doubt swept through 
 the Mob, and with the doubt it ceased to be a Mob. 
 
 "What do you want us to do, Doctor?" asked 
 Sandy McAlpin, breasting the calmer waves to the 
 front. "You've only to speak the word." 
 
 Dale's rare, winning smile lighted up his face. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. McAlpin ! I want you, one 
 and all, as a favour to me and to Mr. Bell, to leave 
 the Court-room quietly, and to take no further steps 
 against Dr. Kruger. I beg every man who is my 
 friend to obey both these requests. Go, please ! " 
 
 He motioned toward the door, and bowed cour- 
 teously. 
 
 For an instant the crowd gazed, undecided, at the 
 commanding arm, the beautiful face gleaming with 
 high resolve, the erect, fearless figure. 
 
 Then they turned, shuffled sheepishly from the 
 hall, and trailed down the stairs. 
 
 John Bell, powerless to quell the riot, had caught 
 up his sister in his arms, and stepped back into the 
 Jury-room near at hand. Through the door, which 
 he left ajar, they had witnessed the scene in the 
 outer hall.
 
 The Committal 347 
 
 Behind them, unobserved by the Bells until the 
 Court-room was cleared, were two other refugees 
 from the human storm. 
 
 Myrtle recoiled, and John bowed stiffly, as they 
 recognised Kate Meagley and the Rev. C. Mather 
 Welsh. The latter buttoned up his coat defiantly, 
 and marched past brother and sister without a word. 
 Kate smiled superciliously. 
 
 "Quite dramatic, was it not? I had no idea Dr. 
 Dale was such an orator. But he is, all the while, 
 surprising us in one way or another. Mr. Welsh ! 
 if you are going home, I can offer you a seat in my 
 brougham." 
 
 They left the Court House together.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 THE "PREFERRED" PRISONER 
 
 " I know not whether Laws be right, 
 Or whether Laws be wrong, 
 All that we know who lie in gaol 
 Is that the wall is strong ; 
 And that each day is like a year, 
 A year whose days are long. 
 
 " But this I know, that every Law 
 That men have made for Man, 
 Since first Man took his brother's life 
 And the sad world began, 
 But straws the wheat and saves the chaff 
 With a most evil fan." 
 
 1 
 
 horror of the Select Circle of Pitvale 
 at the detention of their popular physician 
 in the common jail upon a charge so pre- 
 posterous and abominable as the murder 
 of an unknown vagrant, was surpassed by 
 the indignation of the populace. 
 
 With his social equals Dr. Dale was dignified in 
 deportment, independent in speech. The few men 
 of his own age belonging to the Select Circle, who 
 affected the airs of the jeunesse dorfa, secretly re- 
 sented, while they admired, a certain fine hauteur 
 which is the born aristocrat's armour of proof. To 
 the poor, the lowly, the suffering, to women and to 
 little children, to prisoners and to captives, his 
 gentleness was invincible. In attic, in cellar, in 
 hut, his rich-toned voice was, as sorrowing women 
 said, like that of an angel. The practised touch of 
 the trained physician was joined in him to mesmeric 
 finger-tips which, his grateful patients believed, had
 
 The "Preferred* Prisoner 345 
 
 the gift of healing. He handled the human body 
 reverently; he wrought in its upbuilding as upon a 
 temple. 
 
 All this was said, in homelier and stronger 
 phrase, at street-corners, in cottage-homes, in shop 
 and pump-house, and most forcibly in the Club of 
 the prisoner's founding. 
 
 A petition that was to be monstrous in propor- 
 tions was circulated zealously, praying the munici- 
 pal and county authorities to set Dr. Dale at liberty 
 on bail, without awaiting the action of the Grand 
 Jury, which would not meet in three weeks from the 
 day of the Inquest. The committal, it was urged, 
 was irregular and unjust, if not actually illegal. 
 
 John Bell checked the movement midway by rep- 
 resenting to the bearers of the paper the uselessness 
 of the appeal and the desire of the accused man to 
 await the regular course of investigation. 
 
 Then he carried the document sheet upon sheet 
 of stout foolscap, pasted into a strip six yards long 
 to the prisoner. 
 
 Dale took it without a word, laid it upon the table, 
 unrolling it gradually to read every one of the five 
 hundred and six names already appended to it. 
 
 Many of the signers had made their marks against 
 the names written for them by others, sprawling 
 crosses dug into or splashed upon the sheet. Here 
 and there they meant it so much that the pen went 
 through the paper. The signatures of Mrs. Theo- 
 dorus Vandergrift of Vandergrift Hall, and those of 
 her three daughters, in the strident characters fabled 
 to have been imported from England for the express 
 use of America's Upper Ten, loomed directly above 
 the wavering scratches Bridget O'Leary and her 
 sister Madonnas of the wash-tub and scrubbing- 
 brush could hardly see to trace for hot and angry 
 tears. Well-men had left the imprint of greasy
 
 350 Dr. Dale 
 
 thumbs in the margin by which they had held the 
 paper; their employers affixed their individual sig- 
 natures, and added the style and address of their 
 respective corporations, representing millions of 
 dollars. 
 
 Dr. Dale uttered an inarticulate sound, more 
 moved than mirthful, as he laid his finger upon 
 the signature, in old-fashioned script, of " Sarepta 
 Bowersox" It was followed by the names of her 
 husband and their three household employees, and 
 then, in legible characters, was inscribed " Thomas 
 Jefferson Bowersox. " 
 
 John smiled in answer to his friend's look. 
 
 "Yes! she guided his hand. He was bent upon 
 signing it." 
 
 He walked to the hearth and poked the fire assid- 
 uously, that he might not see the prisoner bow to 
 kiss Jeff's name. 
 
 "May I keep this? " asked Dale, when he had fin- 
 ished reading, and began to roll up the manuscript. 
 
 " Of course you may. I thought you would like 
 to have it. The hearts of your people are with you, 
 old man, and the farce will be played out within 
 an hour after the Grand Jury comes together. The 
 burlesque upon justice is all Kruger's work." 
 
 "And Cotton Mather Welsh's and the Middle 
 Miss Meagley's," smiling cynically. 
 
 "They were dragged into it by the Coroner!" 
 asserted John, earnestly. "Ruth tells me Miss 
 Kate cried all night after the Inquest, and she has 
 been pitiably unnerved ever since. Ruth thinks 
 she is threatened with nervous prostration. Welsh 
 went out of town the morning after the committal, 
 and has not shown up since. Sandy McAlpin can- 
 not be persuaded that he hasn't run away to keep 
 out of the boys' clutches. Mrs. Bowersox has a 
 dreadful suspicion that he has committed suicide,
 
 The "Preferred" Prisoner 351 
 
 driven to it by remorse for having defamed an in- 
 nocent man. I may mention, as the first known in- 
 stance of its kind, that she did not say ' poor dear ! ' 
 in speaking of him. In fact, she confided to Myrtle 
 her fear that she ' almost hated that man, minister 
 or no minister. She hoped hating wasn't a mortal 
 sin when a person just couldn't help it.' ' 
 
 " Sandy was here last night to say that the boys 
 hold themselves ready to tear down the jail if I 
 want to get out." The moved smile had returned 
 to Dale's eyes. "I told him such a thing was not 
 to be thought of, even if I could n't walk out of the 
 front door, or get out through any one of four win- 
 dows at any time, if I chose to do it. I said that 
 I am taking the first vacation I have had in three 
 years; that and this is true lam living on the 
 fat of the land. Mrs. Sydney brought her sick baby 
 in to me this morning, looking upon me as a resi- 
 dent physician. 
 
 " By the way, I am going to trouble you to bring 
 me a medicine-case from the office. It stands in 
 the closet of my private office, and is lettered * No. 
 2.' Here is the closet -key." 
 
 " I look into the office every day, " rejoined John, 
 as he pocketed the key. "You will find everything 
 in order when you get back. " 
 
 Dale's eyes wandered wearily about the room. 
 
 " Mrs. Wilmerding sent a hamper of game yester- 
 day and the orchids on the table. Mrs. Sydney 
 baked waffles for my breakfast; I had oysters last 
 night. As for flowers!" waving his hand toward 
 the bouquets and baskets set wherever there was 
 space for them. " It took me ten minutes to trans- 
 fer my riches to the hall last night. Did you ever 
 hear of the man whose wife poisoned him by filling 
 his bedroom with his favourite hyacinths, and then 
 shutting doors and windows while he slept? I
 
 35 2 Dr. Dale 
 
 should be drugged with the balm of a thousand 
 flowers if I were to sleep with all those in here, 
 unless I were to shut myself up in what Mrs. Syd- 
 ney dignifies as my bed-chamber. It has no win- 
 dow. Then I should be asphyxiated by carbonic 
 acid gas. I should have the bed moved into this 
 room, were it not that the Sydneys call the two ' a 
 soot of rooms,' and are so artlessly proud of them." 
 
 It was the third day of his confinement. The 
 apartment was part of the jailer's family residence 
 their guest-chamber, in fact, the largest and best 
 in the house. Thick rugs that never belonged to 
 the Sydneys were spread upon the ingrain carpet ; a 
 roller-top desk, a centre table with an embroidered 
 cover, a lounge heaped with pillows; book-shelves, 
 easy-chairs, and a handsome student's lamp had been 
 sent down by Ruth Folger, and put into place by 
 'Bat' and his partner, with the royal disregard of 
 prison-regulations that guided their joint adminis- 
 tration. Books, magazines, and newspapers littered 
 the tables; muslin curtains, also sent in by Ruth, 
 draped the windows. Not a bar was to be seen in 
 one of the four. A fire of noble hickory logs burned 
 in the chimney. 
 
 "I am doing an excellent imitation of the pam- 
 pered minion of fortune, you see," continued Dale, 
 in the same strain of affected levity. "It's a pity 
 Welsh has left town. He might get some new ideas 
 as to the modus operandi of flourishing like a green 
 bay-tree. 
 
 "And speaking of Welsh reminds me that Hen- 
 drickson opened his legal counsel to me the morn- 
 ing after I came here by advising me not to tell him 
 even confidentially if there were anything ' shady ' 
 about my relations with the deceased woman." 
 
 "No?" interjected John, indignantly. 
 
 "Fact! he says he cannot do himself justice if he
 
 The "Preferred" Prisoner 353 
 
 has reason to suspect that his client is guilty. He 
 prefers to base a hypothesis of defence upon the 
 evidence given in open Court and to work up that. 
 There 's something in it. It took me somewhat 
 aback, I confess. I had n't given the profession 
 credit for that much squeamishness. It argues the 
 existence of a legal conscience. I said to him that 
 if he had put me in the confessional instead of 
 warning me to hold my tongue, my answer would 
 have been the same. I should have communicated 
 nothing I had not said at the Inquest. Hendrick- 
 son is a good fellow, and the most honest member 
 of his guild I know. By the way, again," hurry- 
 ing over the sentences, " I made my will yester- 
 day. Hendrickson has it. Whatever becomes of 
 me, Ralph's intentions toward your sister will be 
 carried out. 
 
 " Now, let us talk of pleasanter things. How does 
 she stand affected, to-day, with regard to the decree 
 that she is to keep away from my present quar- 
 ters, the Hotel Sydney?" 
 
 John shook his head dubiously. 
 
 " She is suspiciously tractable. For forty-eight 
 hours she rebelled furiously, as I told you. Not 
 until Ruth took our side, and begged her not to fly 
 into the face of our opposition, did she yield one 
 hair's breadth. She spends most of the day with 
 Ruth. She is always at home in the evening to 
 meet me. She is as true as steel plucky beyond 
 any other woman I ever saw with perhaps one 
 exception." 
 
 Dale sat in an arm-chair, resting his chin on his 
 hand, gazing into the fire, his most habitual atti- 
 tude when thoughtful or weary. His hair had silvered 
 perceptibly in the last fortnight. The clear olive of 
 his complexion had grown delicately transparent; 
 the classic contour of his features was refined, not 
 
 23
 
 354 Dr. Dale 
 
 sharpened, by the ordeal he was undergoing. While 
 courage had not flagged for an instant, it was easy to 
 see that his pride bled inwardly under the ignominy 
 of his position. To such a man to be accused of a 
 crime was more galling than conviction and sentence 
 would be to coarser spirits. 
 
 " I think the world does not hold two other women 
 like them," he said lowly and fervently. " I write to 
 Myrtle every day how welcome the sight of her would 
 be to me, yet how inflexible is my conviction that it 
 would be wrong for her to come here ; that she must 
 not be mixed up in this wretched business. At least 
 one pair of eyes is watching her every movement. 
 One person is ready to take cruel advantage of any- 
 thing that could be used to annoy or hurt her." 
 
 John's broad shoulders were braced against the 
 high wooden mantel ; his hands were thrust deep into 
 his pockets. From his superior height he surveyed 
 his friend, an indulgent smile in the honest, loving 
 eyes. 
 
 " Come now, old chap ! you are getting morbid ! 
 There is n't a creature in all Pitvale this day leaving 
 out Kruger and his beggarly crew of toadies who 
 does n't wish you well out of this scrape. You don't 
 hear them talk. / do ! " 
 
 "The Meagleys, for instance?" a faintly bitter 
 gleam crossing his face. 
 
 John snapped his ringers. 
 
 " Bah ! that for the whole tribe ! What influence 
 has a set of notorious gossips, unpopular in them- 
 selves, and whose father crazy or sane caused 
 Ralph Folger's death upon public opinion? And 
 why should they care to injure you, if they had the 
 power? Which I deny ! " 
 
 " Kate Meagley rules the ' tribe,' as you call it. 
 Without going into particulars, let me tell you that 
 she hates me with or without cause with perfect
 
 The "Preferred" Prisoner 355 
 
 hatred. Moreover, that she knows how matters stand 
 between your sister and myself, and will not hesitate 
 to use that knowledge, when the time comes, to the 
 best advantage for her schemes, and the worst for us. 
 I cannot say this to Myrtle ; you cannot say it to Miss 
 Folger unless you are prepared to bring proof of 
 what you assert. And these proofs I cannot give. 
 There are things a man does n't speak of to his best 
 friend." 
 
 " I hope," resumed John, after a thoughtful pause, 
 " that you judge the girl too harshly. She has be- 
 haved well about our engagement. There is not a 
 symptom of jealousy or wounded feeling, although 
 she knows now how long the affair has been going 
 on. She said to me, in the most delicate and tactful 
 manner, yesterday, that she means to go home to her 
 mother when we are married. She has wished, for a 
 long time, to have her sisters open a school for small 
 children and become self-supporting, They were not 
 willing to undertake it unless she would superintend 
 everything. While she could be of service to Ruth, 
 she would not speak of it to her. As matters now 
 stand, she asked me to broach the subject to Ruth, 
 and persuade her to give her up." 
 
 Dale lifted his head for a long stare at the speaker, 
 and then laughed outright, as he had not laughed 
 since Ralph Folger died. 
 
 " O Nathanael without guile ! " he cried, when he 
 could use his voice. " If I could make others see you 
 as I see you, you would be the greatest show on 
 earth ! John B. Gough defined a greenhorn as ' a man 
 who is perfectly honest, and believes everybody else 
 to be as honest as himself.' That is John Bell ! out 
 and out, and every time ! Seriously, my dear fellow, 
 I would chop off my right arm at the shoulder if, in 
 losing it, I could gain your conscience, your faith in 
 your fellow-man, and in women, who are so far from
 
 356 Dr. Dale 
 
 being our fellows that not one of us ever really com- 
 prehends one of them. 
 
 " When the Meagley School for small children is 
 opened, we will talk further of these things. Which 
 is equivalent to dismissing the matter for good and 
 all." 
 
 " It does me good to hear you laugh, even at me ! " 
 rejoined John, imperturbably good-natured. " That I 
 don't see the point of the joke does n't affect my en- 
 joyment of your amusement." 
 
 " ' Amusement ! ' ' Dale had returned to his study 
 of the coals ; his face was dark to moroseness. " It has 
 been many a long year since I was really amused. A 
 learned philologist says, ' Whatever amuses serves to 
 kill time, to lull the faculties, and to banish reflection.' 
 
 " Time has hung, living and heavy, upon my hands 
 all my life. My faculties have been too keenly alive 
 to suffering of all sorts. Reflection upon these and 
 other miseries has been, like the world Wordsworth 
 saw, ' too much with me.' Time, the faculties, and 
 reflection are having things all their own way with 
 me nowadays. You may recollect how Hodge 
 summed up the pleasures of church-going to his 
 rector? 
 
 " ' I can just put me feet up an' think o' nothin' 
 by the hour.' 
 
 " / can sit here all day long and think of every- 
 thing ! " 
 
 "I cannot say that he is unaccountably depressed," 
 said John Bell to his betrothed in describing the inter- 
 view. "The inaction of prison life must be intol- 
 erable to a man of his habits and energy, to say 
 nothing of the galling circumstances of his confine- 
 ment. These things do not demoralise him in the 
 sense of weakening courage and will. He would not 
 show the white feather in the face of death itself. 
 But he is embittered. And bitterness does not be-
 
 The "Preferred"' Prisoner 357 
 
 long to Dale's nature. He has the tenderest heart 
 in the world under his impassiveness." 
 
 " As I have every reason to know ! " returned Ruth, 
 her sweet eyes glistening gratefully. " Do you know, 
 Jack, if I were in Myrtle's place, I 'd marry him out 
 of hand to get the blessed privilege of staying with 
 him and comforting him?" 
 
 " ' A girl she would a- wooing go, 
 Whether her lover would, or no ! ' " 
 
 parodied John, in feigned liveliness. " Dale would 
 never consent to the sacrifice. No true man would, 
 were he in his place. 
 
 " There are heroes as well as heroines, pet," with 
 an arch smile into her troubled face, " in this world 
 of ours that seems so out of joint just now."
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 AGAINST ORDERS 
 
 " I count men's words but idle breath, 
 Innocuous find their gall ; 
 But o'er the lily of thy fame 
 I would not have it fall." 
 
 1 
 
 ^iHE world looked hopelessly disjointed 
 and black as a starless midnight to him 
 who, in the late afternoon of a bleak, 
 bright April day, a week after the inter- 
 view related in the last chapter, gave up 
 the attempt to interest himself in a volume of Emer- 
 son's Essays, and sat, listlessly watching a bar of red 
 sunlight sliding up the wall opposite the western 
 windows. 
 
 It was a whitewashed wall. The lime had been 
 often renewed, and the consecutive coats were in evi- 
 dence in sundry places. Some of the earlier deposits 
 were gray, some embrowned by smoke. Traces of 
 scribbling were visible upon several, offering chances 
 of the discovery of a serial palimpsest to a curious 
 idler. Where the outer coating had scaled away in 
 one place, a space was exposed a foot square. Some- 
 body perhaps a former " preferred " prisoner had 
 left just there a barbarous charcoal sketch of a gallows 
 and a man hanging from it. Beneath the sketch were 
 scratched the words, "My Family Tree" Subse- 
 quent applications of whitewash had dimmed the 
 lines, but the red sunbeam brought them out for the 
 listless eyes. 
 
 When the gleam travelled past it, the eyes reverted 
 again and again to the barbarous etching.
 
 Against Orders 359 
 
 The room was at the back of the house, and 
 comparatively remote from street noises. The late 
 spring was slow and sour. It was a March, not 
 an April wind that shook the loose window-sashes 
 and piped through the keyhole from the draughty 
 passage. 
 
 Hendrickson had passed an hour with his client 
 that afternoon. The lawyer's well-meant efforts to 
 enliven the prisoner had depressed him instead. 
 
 " Vanity of vanities ! " he sighed, in recalling the 
 professional jokes to which he had lent fatigued ears, 
 the adjuration to " keep up his courage and hope for 
 the best as a certainty," that had made away tediously 
 with sixty minutes of the leaden time. 
 
 At seven o'clock Mrs. Sydney would bring in his 
 supper and talk of the baby's convalescence and the 
 chances of a relapse, while he pretended to eat it. 
 There would still remain two hours and a half be- 
 fore bedtime. Even under the milk-mild regime of 
 kindly 'Bat' Sydney, visitors could not spend the 
 evening with prisoners. 
 
 To-morrow would be just such another day and 
 the next and the next and so on until the middle 
 of the month should bring the meeting of the Grand 
 Jury. 
 
 " I wish it were to-morrow ! " he muttered, rising 
 to pace the floor, ten strides from wall to wall, 
 ten strides back again. 
 
 What if, in the inscrutable caprice of law and jus- 
 tice, twelve jurors, " good men and true," were to 
 give the law the benefit of the doubt of his innocence 
 and sentence him to fifteen years twenty a life- 
 time of this sort of existence? 
 
 He halted at the charcoal sketch. 
 
 " I 'm not sure I should n't prefer that ! " he said, 
 aloud. 
 
 Already the sound of his own voice startled him.
 
 360 Dr. Dale 
 
 Voluntary seclusion was one thing, compulsory soli- 
 tude another. 
 
 The tense lines of the mouth softened as he 
 checked his stride and laid his hand, in light ca- 
 ressing, on the shining key-board of an upright grand 
 piano which was not there a week ago. He passed 
 his fingers silently, almost reverently, over the keys. 
 
 Standing thus for nearly a minute, his half-shut 
 eyes conjured up a vision that, from the look which 
 stole over his face, must have been fraught with peace. 
 
 His hand went from the keyboard to his inner 
 pocket. He drew forth a letter, worn by much read- 
 ing, opened it and perused it as one who cons some- 
 thing he already knows by heart. 
 
 The note had come with the piano. It was brief. 
 
 " DEAR HEART, They won't let me come to you ! So I 
 send my dearest possession in my place. Play on it in the 
 twilight sometimes " 
 
 " As if I could ! " interpolated the reader, with an 
 odd catch in his breath. 
 
 " Play on it in the twilight sometimes ; shut your eyes and 
 imagine I am beside you. O my own ! I am with you, at 
 heart, always, always!" 
 
 Dale folded the note and slipped it back into his 
 pocket. The light died from his face, leaving it very 
 weary. 
 
 Loneliness again enwrapped him around. It was 
 intangible, invisible, but terribly present. He breathed 
 with difficulty in silence that might be touched were 
 he to put out a hand. 
 
 A tap at the door must mean an uncovenanted call 
 from Mrs. Sydney, with talk than which felt silence 
 and solitude were more endurable. 
 
 He threw himself into a chair in saying, " Come in ! " 
 and leaned his forehead upon his hand.
 
 Against Orders 361 
 
 An attitude that did not invite sociability might be 
 some protection. 
 
 A light rustle of skirts, quite unlike the slow swing 
 of Mrs. Sydney's brown merino, the sound of foot- 
 steps that skimmed the floor as a sea-bird the billow, 
 and soft, warm hands were pressed upon his aching 
 eyes ; kiss after kiss, like showering rose-leaves, cooled 
 his forehead. 
 
 Before he could start up, Myrtle Bell fluttered to a 
 perch upon his knee and had his head between her 
 hands ; her face, rosy with exercise and sparkling with 
 smiles, was close to his. 
 
 " My love ! my love ! " was all he could say. 
 
 Nothing but that, in every intonation love could 
 inspire. And then, wildly, "Is it a dream? Have 
 I gone mad at last? " 
 
 It was like the loving, volatile sprite to pinch his 
 ears, to assure him of her identity. Like her, too, 
 to divert a dangerous current by chat of common 
 things. Her first sentence steadied his brain, 
 
 " Mrs. Bowersox poor dear ! brought me. We 
 took a close carriage. To conserve the proprieties, 
 you know ! If I had my way which I am not 
 likely to get while you and Jack live I should 
 come every day, and bring you all your meals. 
 Beautiful has my tea-basket here. He stood close 
 to the door until he was wanted, like the well-bred 
 chaperon he is. You can always count upon the 
 Marquis to do the proper thing. Come here, old 
 fellow, and pay your respects ! " 
 
 She patted him in taking the basket from his 
 jaws. 
 
 Beautiful paid his respects by rearing himself upon 
 his hind-legs, putting his forepaws upon Dale's 
 shoulders, and giving a genteel whine of sympathy 
 before dropping on all-fours. His appreciation of 
 the changed conditions of all three was so apparent
 
 362 Dr. Dale 
 
 that Myrtle could have cried more easily than she 
 laughed. 
 
 " Very neatly expressed, Monsieur le Marquis ! " 
 she cried approvingly. " Now lie down and make 
 yourself comfortable and small, while I give Dr. Dale 
 his supper. I have tea, cream, sugar, a spirit-lamp 
 and kettle. And in this basket, which I brought, not 
 caring to tempt the Marquis to mouth-watering by 
 the odour thereof, there are rolled sandwiches, thin 
 as writing-paper, just as you like them, and some of 
 the incomparable Bowersox cookies, fresh from the 
 oven. I am going to make tea and help you to 
 drink it. Mrs. Sydney's mother was an old crony of 
 Mrs. Bowersox's, and Mrs. ' Bat ' knows how to be 
 discreet. You should have heard the dear soul tell 
 her that ' Dr. Dale and Miss Bell are great friends 
 almost like brother and sister,' and that ' we two ' 
 that is, Mrs. Bowersox and Mrs. Sydney ' will have 
 a nice gossip here, while Miss Bell makes a cup of 
 tea and some music for that poor lonely dear who 
 never ought to be where he is God forgive Sam 
 Kruger!' 
 
 " It was fun alive ! " 
 
 The tea was made, the dainty equipage that had 
 come in the basket was set in order upon the table, 
 and the lovers, facing one another over the teacups, 
 had looked into each other's eyes and chatted for a 
 good half-hour before Dale could bring himself to 
 utter what should have greeted the appearance of the 
 unlooked-for guest, 
 
 " You ought not to have done this, dear heart ! 
 You must not do it again ! " 
 
 " So Jack has remarked repeatedly," said Myrtle, 
 composedly. " So Ruth says. She says most things 
 that Jack says nowadays. I never promised to 
 obey them. I meant, all the time, to come. And 
 when Jack let slip, to-day, that he was ' afraid confine-
 
 Against Orders 363 
 
 ment was beginning to tell upon your spirits/ I 
 determined to see for myself how you are. You 
 can't scold me, now I 'm here, no matter how hard 
 you try." 
 
 " Scold you ! " He grasped her hands, his face 
 colourless with intensity of feeling. " Do you need 
 to have me tell you that the sight of you is life to the 
 perishing, food to the starving? That the room 
 will have the chill and the gloom of the grave when 
 you go ? I have asked myself, times without number, 
 since I have known you, if man could love woman 
 more entirely, more madly than I love you. I know 
 now no man ever did or could. 
 
 " But, dear child ! that very love makes me say you 
 must not come to me again. Whatever Hendrick- 
 son and others may think, I am sure the trial will 
 come off. Jack calls me ' pessimistic.' Hendrickson 
 will have it that my presentiment is superstition. I 
 have it, by night and by day. They declare I have 
 no enemies who would bestir themselves to do me 
 harm. I know better. And I will not have you 
 made the target for malice and impertinence. The 
 money which he who has gone meant should make 
 us happy will be a decoy to gossips, public and 
 private. Your picture will figure in sensational news- 
 paper reports ; every item of your personal history 
 will be worked up into ' copy.' Ah ! the thought 
 makes my blood boil ! And I shall not only be 
 powerless to stand by you, but I shall suffer the tor- 
 ments of the lost in knowing all this has come on you 
 through me ! " 
 
 " Don't ! don't ! " pleaded the girl, pressing a firm 
 soft hand over his mouth. " Jack is right. All this 
 horror you Ve been through has made you morbid. 
 Why, darling ! it is n't a bit like you to feel so. 
 When you 're free again, and the wind is in your 
 face, and the spring sunshine in your eyes, you '11
 
 364 Dr. Dale 
 
 laugh at the recollection of your gloom. You talk as 
 if this miserable legal technicality were of real 
 importance. Don't you know not a soul in Pitvale 
 believes you to be anything but the hero the 
 honest, honourable man you are? Don't you know 
 there is n't a shred of evidence against you ? Why, 
 the Grand Jury will free you within ten minutes after 
 the case comes before them. Even the Philadelphia 
 and Harrisburg papers say so, and that your arrest 
 was a ' travesty on justice unworthy of a civilised age.' 
 Be reasonable, dear ! " 
 
 She spoke passionately ; the hand that smoothed 
 the care-lines from his forehead was magnetic, and 
 carried mental healing in its touch. 
 
 A great burden seemed to drop from Dale's shoul- 
 ders. In one flash of conviction he saw his case 
 with her eyes. Freedom life love Myrtle ! 
 all were before him. 
 
 He caught the girl in his arms, laughing hysteri- 
 cally. It was such an irrational revulsion of feeling 
 as can come to an intense nature alone, and to one 
 all unused to happiness. 
 
 "What a fool I've been!" he laughed. "And 
 what a sorceress you are, darling, to open my eyes to 
 the truth ! I don't know how you Ve done it. Cer- 
 tainly not by argument, for John has said all that to 
 me a dozen times. I think it was your presence, your 
 touch, your voice. You led me into the sunshine 
 once before, dear love ! I feel now that you will keep 
 me there. You are the whole world to me, sweet- 
 heart. You Ve changed the face of the universe 
 itself for my eyes. 
 
 " And here I am talking like a dime-novel swain, 
 and feeling like a schoolboy the day before vacation, 
 while the main facts remain unchanged." 
 
 " What facts ? " asked Myrtle, demurely. 
 
 " That you should n't have come here. That you
 
 Against Orders 365 
 
 mustn't come again. That you must go home at 
 once." 
 
 " Three leading propositions ! To the first I agree, 
 if you say I must. To the second I consent," reluc- 
 tantly, "if if you insist. The third has neither 
 rhyme nor reason. I won't go home at once ! " 
 
 " You must, dear." 
 
 " Why, I should like to know ! " returned the girl, 
 with pretty wilfulness. " The danger you point out 
 is in my being here at all. Now that I 'm here, 
 why should I hurry away? I won't have been here 
 any the less because my stern tyrant orders me from 
 his presence before my visit is half out. In very 
 plain language, I 'm not going to leave you, until, as 
 Jeff says, ' I am good and ready.' And that won't 
 be for an hour to come. You may as well make up 
 your mind to that. Of course, if I bore you 
 
 He did not let her finish the sentence. 
 
 " There ! " she rebuked, disengaging herself. " Will 
 you have the goodness to look at my hair? When 
 Mrs. Bowersox sees it, her ideas of our Platonic 
 friendship will be shaken to their roots poor things ! 
 I spent fifteen solid minutes when I might have 
 been improving my mind in making my hair look 
 nice for your benefit, and in fifteen seconds you Ve 
 utterly wrecked it." 
 
 " It perished gloriously," consoled Dale. " Let it 
 rest in peace. There 's a glass over the fireplace. 
 You can set the hair to rights before you go." 
 
 Myrtle walked to the window. Twilight was set- 
 tling upon the jail-yard. 
 
 " Egbert ! " dropping her light tone, and speaking 
 under her breath, " let down the shades ! " Don't 
 light the lamp ; the fire gives a better light. I '11 
 play for you. It will be like home again." 
 
 Dale laid a couple of fresh logs on the fire, and low- 
 ered the shades. Myrtle had seated herself at the piano.
 
 366 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Shall I sing, or just play? " 
 
 " Play." 
 
 Her hands wandered idly over the keys for a min- 
 ute, then the first bars of the " Siegfried Idyll," 
 breathing of peace and of forest life, far from the tur- 
 moil of man, rose through the red duskiness. 
 
 Dale laid a cushion upon the floor beside the piano- 
 stool, sank happily down upon it, his head resting 
 against Myrtle's side, his eyes wandering, as of old, 
 between the dancing firelight and the shadowy face 
 above him. 
 
 The player knew his tastes in music. To-night 
 she would play nothing that might jar upon his pres- 
 ent mood of happy reaction and hope. As the " Sieg- 
 fried Idyll " was ended, her hand slid down to his 
 head and lay there in a mute caress. He drew it to 
 his lips. Neither spoke. 
 
 Outside, the raw wind had risen to a blast that 
 shook the windows and sent fitful puffs of smoke 
 down the chimney. 
 
 Myrtle's released hand went back to the keys. 
 Dale shut his eyes that he might the better see the 
 pictures music always painted for his mind. 
 
 " Oh ! I am very, -very happy \ " he sighed in sheer 
 content. 
 
 For the dear hands were playing Dvorak's " Hia- 
 watha's Wooing." Dreamy, tender, restful, infinitely 
 sweet, embodiment of utter contentment the strains 
 stole upon the prisoner's nerves in placid benediction. 
 In this music there was no strife, no baffled longing, 
 no haunting omens that would not down. Nothing 
 but calm, repose, Peace ! 
 
 " Why did Dvorak call it ' Hiawatha's Wooing,' 
 I wonder," mused the girl, aloud, as she played. 
 "There is no incertitude, no doubt, no passion in it. 
 It were better called ' Hiawatha's Betrothal.' " 
 
 Dale, with closed eyes, saw no love-scene. The
 
 Against Orders 367 
 
 music to him called up a boundless stretch of prairie, 
 clad in the pale verdure of early spring. A soft wind 
 breathed across it, bending the short grass into gentle 
 wavelets, with here and there an eddy. Spring 
 flowers starred the prairie. Spring sunshine smiled 
 down upon it. The air was full of spring. Not one 
 human figure broke the beautiful monotony, least 
 of all, any hand-painted savage with primitive ideas 
 on the subject of wooing. 
 
 The girl ceased playing; her hand slid again to 
 Dale's head. She glanced down at him, and their 
 eyes met. 
 
 " ' Lenore ! ' " he said. 
 
 She obeyed without speaking; the air throbbed 
 with the opening measures of the march from Raffs 
 great symphony. 
 
 A new note had been struck. The dreams called 
 up by Wagner's " Idyll " and " Hiawatha's Wooing " 
 vanished. 
 
 Again the listener saw the high-walled Italian street, 
 the hot, palpitating sunlight, the black cortege bear- 
 ing the dead hero whose face was bathed in a tri- 
 umphant light that was not of this world. The 
 dreamer heard alternately the low weeping of women, 
 and the fierce, despairing scream of the trumpets, 
 re-echoing from wall to wall. 
 
 " The death-song of a soul ! " he repeated to him- 
 self. " Conquered, yet conquering; vanquished, yet 
 victorious; sin-stained, but fearless. The soul of a 
 MAN." 
 
 A " drunk and disorderly " in one of the basement 
 cells, who had been enlivening his enforced solitude 
 by alternate song and profanity, paused in a musical 
 exhortation (addressed to one Jennie, whom he ad- 
 jured to " wait till the clouds rolled by ! ") and heark- 
 ened, open-mouthed, to the distant notes of the piano. 
 Mrs. Bowersox, discoursing with the jailer's wife, two
 
 368 Dr. Dale 
 
 rooms off, felt her eyes fill with tears, and knew 
 why. 
 
 A little black-clad man stopped short on the steps 
 of the jail the entrance being on a side street just 
 below Dr. Dale's room listened for a minute; then 
 for some reason he could never explain, decided to 
 postpone for another half-hour the visit he had come 
 to make. 
 
 " Don't play any more ! " whispered Dale, as the 
 last chord of the march crashed out. " I want to 
 carry the memory of that in my mind until we meet 
 again." 
 
 He had her hand, holding it between both of his, 
 his head against her side. The fingers of the other 
 hand roamed lightly through his hair, stroking it 
 back from his temples, soothing him as a woman's 
 alone can do. 
 
 Thus they sat in silence, each reading an Arcadian 
 future in the shifting gleam of the flames that leaped 
 up the chimney. In silence that was not silence. 
 Wordless, but speaking direct from heart to heart. 
 
 The clock on the mantel struck six. The mellow 
 tones of the Club-house chimes tolled out the same 
 number of strokes. The sound, remote but dis- 
 tinct, reached the lovers. 
 
 Dale rose and stretched out his arms to the girl. 
 The hour of parting had come. 
 
 Despite her assurance that in a little over a week 
 her betrothed would be free, Myrtle clung to his 
 neck almost hysterically, her stout heart quailing 
 for one dark moment. She could not trust her 
 voice to speak. She felt his arms tighten about her 
 slender body almost painfully, and comprehended 
 that the causeless spirit of dread had entered into 
 his heart from her own. Their lips met then 
 again, and yet again. 
 
 And after that the door closed and she was gone.
 
 Against Orders 369 
 
 Left to himself, the momentary horror departed 
 from the prisoner. His spirits rose to the level to 
 which Myrtle's presence had buoyed them. 
 
 He sat down by the fire. While the half-light 
 lingered, he could imagine Her still there. 
 
 After a time he heard footsteps in the passage 
 leading to his room. 
 
 Unwilling to have Mrs. Sydney know that he and 
 Myrtle had been sitting in the firelight, he sprang 
 up, struck a match and lighted the lamp. 
 
 As the blaze flickered upward, the door opened. 
 There had been no inquiring tap. 
 
 Dale turned. 
 
 The Rev. Cotton Mather Welsh stood in the 
 doorway.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 MR. WELSH PAYS HIS DEBT 
 
 " For time, at last, makes all things even ; 
 And, if we do but watch the hour, 
 There never yet was human power 
 That could evade, if unforgiven, 
 The patient search and vigil long 
 Of him who treasures up a wrong." 
 
 DALE looked at the new-comer in sur- 
 prised inquiry. 
 Welsh was surveying the room, taking 
 in each detail as the rising lamplight 
 made all distinct. His red-rimmed eyes 
 swept from wood-fire to desk and revolving desk- 
 chair; from curtains to book-case and lounge, and 
 so on until they rested on the open piano, in grow- 
 ing wonder and disapproval. Last of all, his gaze 
 fell on Dale. It was gloomily menacing. 
 
 He sat down without uttering a sound. 
 
 His manner irritated, yet amused the doctor. 
 
 "Mr. Welsh," he said, after waiting in vain for 
 the other to open the conversation, " it seems that 
 when you visit prisoners and captives you enter as 
 informally as when you last honoured my poor office 
 with your presence. I trust you'll not force me 
 again to speed the parting guest, as I had to do 
 then." 
 
 " Luxury ! " commented Welsh, his eyes again 
 touring the apartment. " Godless luxury ! ' I have 
 seen the wicked in great power and spreading ' : 
 
 "I am familiar with the quotation, thank you!" 
 broke in Dale. " May I ask to what I am indebted 
 for this call ? Have you come to take holy joy in
 
 Mr. Welsh pays his Debt 371 
 
 the work you helped to do? Or have you so far 
 fulfilled Scriptural commands as to forgive this 
 particular enemy, and come here to set at liberty 
 him who is bound?" 
 
 " Man ! " cried Welsh, springing to his feet in a 
 sudden rage, " Man of sin ! Son of Belial ! Do you 
 add blasphemy to your other enormities? Do you 
 dare make their sum greater by scoffing at Holy 
 Writ?" 
 
 "If you'll kindly name a few of the enormities 
 you refer to vaguely, it will be more to the point, 
 and I'll understand you better. At present, I am 
 somewhat in the dark. " 
 
 "Their name is Legion: Godlessness; Perfidy; 
 Hypocrisy; Perjury; and to crown all Murder!" 
 
 "The Grand Jury will prove a better judge of that 
 than you, my friend. Suppose we wait for its de- 
 cree before indulging in such terms. What you 
 have said is distinctly libellous, at present." 
 
 " What do I care for that ? " 
 
 "Very little judging from what I know of you. 
 Others may care more." 
 
 " What others ? " Welsh's sneer was ugly. 
 "Yourself and " 
 
 " Not I, for one! " remarked Dale. " If it amuses 
 you to take advantage of your cloth and of my posi- 
 tion, and shriek insults at me, why, keep it up, by 
 all means. I only spoke for your own good, in 
 advising you not to repeat the experiment in public. 
 Some of the townspeople and oilmen may forget that 
 you are a minister of the gospel of peace and love 
 in recognising the fact that you are vilifying one 
 of their friends. In which case the consequences 
 may prove just a trifle unpleasant for you, you 
 know. But do as you like, of course. I merely 
 threw out the warning as a suggestion." 
 
 Welsh was mute. Dale looked for another out-
 
 372 Dr. Dale 
 
 burst of wrath, and it seemed on the way. It 
 changed suddenly to a smile. The brooding gleam 
 did not look to the observer like a smile of Chris- 
 tian forgiveness. In spite of himself, it worried 
 him. He was angry, too, that the aura of Myrtle's 
 presence in his room should so soon be dispelled by 
 a malignant influence. He felt the idyllic mood 
 into which her visit had charmed him gradually 
 changing into the intolerance and disgust which 
 contact with the fierce little bigot always induced. 
 
 He had fancied for an instant that Welsh had 
 come to pay him a pastoral visit, and had been half- 
 ashamed of his own incivility. He was now sure 
 the man was there to gloat over a worsted foe. The 
 thought completed the wreck of his happier frame 
 of mind. 
 
 " There are certain disadvantages in being a pris- 
 oner," he said, after a pause. "One advantage 
 hitherto has been, that I need see no one I did 
 not choose to see. May I ask how you got in 
 here?" 
 
 " I called to see Richard Avery, who is incarcer- 
 ated downstairs in a real prison-cell. My visit 
 to him could wait, so I stepped in here, instead of 
 going down to the basement." 
 
 " While Sydney was looking the other way, I sup- 
 pose? Well! well! Love laughs at locksmiths, 
 they say. And true, earnest friendship, such as 
 you feel for me, cannot be barred out by all the Bat 
 Sydneys on earth. It really touches me to think 
 how strong that friendship must be, when it leads a 
 man of God to enter the jail under a lying pretext, 
 and sneak into my room while my jailer's back is 
 turned. Truly, greater love hath " 
 
 "I did none of these things!" snorted Welsh, a 
 puff of rage ruffling the sallow face. "I came to 
 the jail to visit Richard Avery also. I shall "
 
 Mr. W^elsh pays his Debt 373 
 
 "I thought I recognised Dick Avery's voice!" 
 interposed Dale, sarcastically. The impulse to 
 prod the intruder out of his senses was gaining 
 upon him. " It rises fitfully now and then from 
 the cells. He was brought in last night. At first, 
 if I might judge from sounds, he was indulging in a 
 mild attack of the horrors. This morning, the D. 
 T. changed into coherent and picturesque profanity. 
 For the past few hours a melting mood has come 
 upon him, and he has broken forth into song. You 
 can hear him now, if you listen hard." 
 
 Dale had not sat down, although the visitor had 
 resumed his chair. Standing on the other side of 
 the table from Welsh, his hands behind him, a 
 sneer in every feature, he looked like a handsome 
 Mephistopheles despising the wretched thing before 
 him, while he could not refrain from goading it. 
 
 "'Drunken Dick,' as the boys call him, is if I 
 mistake not a parishioner of yours, Mr. Welsh," 
 he pursued cruelly, as Welsh continued to stare at 
 him, and to breathe stertorously as one whom wrath 
 had bereft of speech. "Didn't I read in one of the 
 Home Missionary papers an account of his conver- 
 sion, signed by you ? " 
 
 " Avery is a poor, weak vessel ! " The last taunt 
 restored to Welsh the use of his tongue. He forced 
 himself to seem dignified. "A pitiable backslider, 
 who, I still believe, is groping for the light." 
 
 Dale laughed. 
 
 " Oh, that is what he 's doing is it ? " as a crash 
 from below indicated that the jail furniture was hav- 
 ing a lively bout with the merry prisoner. 
 
 Welsh's eyes flashed; his fist came down upon 
 the table. 
 
 "At all events, Dr. Dale, he is not " He 
 choked. 
 
 "Not a member of the Bachelors' Club, you were
 
 374 Dr. Dale 
 
 about to say? No! With all his faults he has 
 escaped that den of iniquity." 
 
 " I was about to say nothing of the sort ! " snapped 
 Welsh. " Since you force me to speak out what I 
 would have broken to you more gradually Avery 
 is an unwilling slave to drink, not a cold-blooded 
 murderer. " 
 
 "No?" queried Dale, flippantly. "But, then, he 
 is young yet. Don't despair. Give him a chance. 
 Hark ! he is singing now ! The rascal has a good 
 voice. A little cracked by drink, at present, but 
 of fair compass." 
 
 He laughed again. 
 
 The voice of the singer, maudlin but strong, arose 
 through the floor. 
 
 Welsh caught a line of the song and reddened 
 furiously. 
 
 "Really, Mr. Welsh," sneered Dale, "I can't 
 compliment your convert on his choice of ditties." 
 
 " There are many ribald songs worse than that 
 to be heard in Pitvale of late years," returned the 
 other. " I have tried " 
 
 " Are there ? I must bow to your superior knowl- 
 edge of such lyrics. Personally I have so little 
 taste for that sort of thing that I have n't noticed 
 the popular liking for them." 
 
 The subterranean song rose to a bellow that jarred 
 the lamp; chimney and shade tinkled together. 
 Dale put out a hand to steady them; his slight 
 laugh was more disagreeable than ever. 
 
 " If Paul and Silas had such lungs, it is small 
 wonder all the prisoners heard them," he continued, 
 bent upon exasperating the unwelcome visitant into 
 leaving the room. " I begin to understand why the 
 prison-doors were burst open." 
 
 Before the ill-chosen taunt had left his lips, the 
 man repented him of it and suffered in his self-
 
 Mr. Jf^elsb pays bis Debt 375 
 
 respect. Although not a church-member, he had a 
 profound reverence for the Book of books. For a 
 second he was inclined to apologise to the man he 
 detested. 
 
 Welsh seemed not to have heard him. He was 
 fumbling in his pocket, and presently fished up a 
 yellow paper folded lengthwise. His manner was 
 ominously judicial. He spoke so deliberately that 
 he appeared to bite off each syllable clean, and then 
 eject it. 
 
 " I came here to-day, Dr. Egbert Dale, in a spirit 
 of fairness, to warn you, as a Christian minister 
 should warn even a hardened sinner. You received 
 me in what, were I a man of your class, I should 
 call ' an ungentlemanly manner. ' You have be- 
 littled my life-work; you have scoffed at my reli- 
 gion. I say nothing of the insults you have neaped 
 upon my person. Those I account as less than 
 nothing. I find you rolling in the lap of luxury, 
 while a better man languishes in a dungeon beneath 
 your feet, and is the butt of your sacrilegious gibes. 
 All this shall not change my purpose." 
 
 " You came to warn me, you say ? " said Dale, 
 indolently tranquil. "Very good of you, I 'm sure. 
 I shall be more intelligently grateful when I know 
 of what I am warned." 
 
 " Of your peril, Dr. Dale. If I were not bound 
 by my religion to forgive and to pray for such as de- 
 spitefully use me, I should account you my enemy, 
 and treat you as such. You have reviled me, times 
 without number. Once you threatened almost in 
 the presence of a dying man to throw me out of a 
 window. Once you raised your hand against me 
 against an ambassador of the King of kings, Dr. 
 Dale ! I let all that pass, and have come here on 
 an errand of mercy, to warn you. " 
 
 Dale sighed, as one who has suffered long and 
 would be patient, if the flesh were not weak.
 
 376 Dr. Dale 
 
 "I haven't an idea what this mysterious preamble 
 is leading to," he said. "Though I suppose if I 
 let you go on talking long enough, I shall find out 
 in the course of time. But let me say, here and 
 now, that in spite of your professions of forgive- 
 ness, you are looking at me, at the present moment, 
 with about the most unloving, unpardoning expres- 
 sion a meek and humble Christian can possibly 
 summon up. I speak of it that you may keep face 
 and words together better. That is all. Go on, 
 please ! " 
 
 For answer, Welsh thrust forward the folded yel- 
 low paper he had drawn from his pocket. 
 
 It was creased and dirty. Dale took it, and un- 
 folded it gingerly. 
 
 As he glanced over it, the fastidious touch became 
 a grip that almost tore the paper. The beautiful 
 face did not lose one shade of its contemptuous 
 calm. 
 
 In imperturbable silence he passed the paper back 
 to Welsh, his black brows raised in polite inquiry. 
 Instinctively, as it seemed, he drew a handkerchief 
 from his breast-pocket and wiped his finger-tips. 
 
 "Miss Kate Meagley found this telegram I am 
 forced to conclude providentially," said Welsh, 
 now master of himself. " Your dog was playing 
 with it in the garden and dropped it at her very 
 feet. It was sealed, but the envelope was torn by 
 the dog's teeth, and " 
 
 " And she opened it, and read it, and filed it away 
 for future reference," finished Dale. "An honour- 
 able lot, most women are ! Providence must have 
 made them to match men like you. So she brought 
 it to you in the fulness of time, and between you, 
 you have built up a story laden with the most de- 
 lightful amount of sin. I 'm sorry to disappoint 
 you. "
 
 Mr. Jf^elsb pays bis Debt 377 
 
 "Impudence and insult won't serve you now, Dr. 
 Dale," said Welsh, almost sadly. "Your course of 
 crime is run." 
 
 "Will you end this farce one way or the other? " 
 demanded Dale, peremptorily. " Will you tell me, 
 in as few words as possible if you can be brief 
 and direct ! what you are driving at ? " 
 
 But Welsh was not a man of few and direct words. 
 Nor was he minded to spoil, by haste, one iota of 
 the dramatic effect he had planned. The sensa- 
 tional preacher would not be balked of his finest 
 periods. 
 
 " Do you know " more rhetorical with each 
 word " do you know, Dr. Egbert Dale, a woman 
 by the name of Anastasia Collett ? " 
 
 He peered keenly across the table into the impas- 
 sive face. He read there nothing of surprise, of 
 fear, of horror. Nothing but boredom, intensest 
 weariness of him and his subject. The black brows 
 still questioned him in civil perplexity. 
 
 " She is in Pitvale ! " pronounced Welsh, and 
 made another rhetorical pause. 
 
 A faint flicker of the broad eyelids or it may 
 have been a shadow cast by the wavering flame of 
 the lamp, as Dr. Dale returned his handkerchief to 
 his pocket was the only reward of a second scru- 
 tiny of his visage. 
 
 "She is in Pitvale." Welsh spoke more rapidly. 
 "She is stopping with friends of mine. I shall 
 not tell you where. You will hear from her soon 
 enough. She arrived to-day. She came with me." 
 
 Another pause. Another fruitless scrutiny. 
 
 " Miss Meagley showed me that telegram, the day 
 of the inquest," resumed Welsh. "We talked the 
 matter over, and decided it was of weight. In the 
 interests of justice, in the interests of truth, I felt 
 it to be my duty to follow up the clue. Miss Meag-
 
 378 Dr. Dale 
 
 ley agreed with me. She obtained some money for 
 me " 
 
 "From Miss Folger. Upon the pretext that you 
 needed it in your mission for secret deeds of 
 mercy. Mr. Bell mentioned it to me," interpolated 
 Dale, quietly. 
 
 The satirical accent infuriated the listener. Was 
 the fellow's armour impervious? 
 
 " And was not that the truth ? " he cried. " Was 
 not the act one of mercy to the community at large? 
 I used that money to pay my way to the place 
 whence this telegram was dated. As soon as I got 
 there I set about making inquiries. In a week I 
 had the whole story. I used that money to pay 
 Anastasia Collett's expenses and mine back to Pit- 
 vale. Her testimony will be of weight with the 
 Grand Jury." 
 
 He waited for Dale's answer. The beautiful face 
 was a haughty mask. 
 
 "What have you to say to all this, Dr. Egbert 
 Dale?" he asked magisterially. 
 
 Still there was no reply. Dale stood, as before, 
 one hand behind him, the other resting lightly on 
 the table. His great sombre eyes were fixed upon 
 the little minister. His face was emotionless. 
 
 A pang of doubt as to the reality of his triumph 
 stung Welsh. 
 
 " We are prepared to prove " he began blus- 
 teringly. 
 
 The words crumbled under that sombre, unwaver- 
 ing gaze. 
 
 Twice Welsh essayed to speak. Twice he checked 
 himself. Fear got hold upon him, fear lest there 
 might be, after all, a weak link in the chain of evi- 
 dence he believed he had forged so cunningly. 
 
 "I see you are not minded to take my warning as 
 I hoped," he said, at last. "I am not one to stab a
 
 Mr. Welsh pays his Debt 379 
 
 man in the back. I have given you fair notice of 
 what is coming. You are hardened in your sin. I 
 wash my hands of you ! " 
 
 He looked back from the door. Dale had not 
 stirred. The dark eyes were still fixed upon the 
 visitor. Fury at the failure of the dramatic scene 
 arranged with such pains shook Welsh like a reed. 
 Being a pious man, he mistook it for natural horror 
 at seeing a criminal so stubbornly unrepentant. 
 
 " I will leave you in peace to your own devices ! " 
 he began. Then, lashed into frenzy by the sight of 
 the immobile face, he shook his fist at it, purple and 
 gurgling. 
 
 " Peace, did I say ? ' There is no peace to the 
 wicked, ' saith the Lord. ' How art thou fallen, 
 Lucifer! Son of the morning! Hell from beneath 
 is moved for thee, to meet thee at thy coming ! ' ' 
 
 He tossed both arms above his head and stamped 
 from the room. The door slammed heavily behind 
 him. 
 
 Dr. Dale stood emotionless, expressionless, a 
 graven image, for perhaps five minutes after Welsh's 
 footsteps ceased to echo in the corridor. 
 
 Then he heard the clink of dishes. Mrs. Sydney 
 was coming with his supper. 
 
 The clock struck seven. Just one hour had passed 
 since Myrtle left him. 
 
 "I'm just on time, doctor!" chirruped the 
 jailer's wife, sidling into the room with the tray. 
 "I know you men don't like being kept waiting for 
 your meals." 
 
 "Thank you, Mrs. Sydney," replied Dale, kindly. 
 "But I 've a bad headache to-night. I don't think 
 I shall eat any supper." 
 
 "I 'm awful sorry!" in motherly pity, at sight of 
 the livid, haggard face. " Sha'n't I make you a cup 
 of tea? I've brought chocolate. Can't you take 
 something for your head ? " 

 
 380 Dr. Dale 
 
 " I shall after a while." 
 
 The doctor was bending over the little medicine- 
 chest he had set on a stand. Mrs. Sydney noted 
 the label on the bottle he took out. 
 
 " Why, that 's the anti stuff Dr. Kruger gave 
 Bat for his headaches before you came to town ! 
 You told me once it ought n't to be fooled with, 
 because an overdose would stop the heart from beat- 
 ing, or make it work too hard, I forget which." 
 
 She lifted the rejected tray from the table, but 
 lingered. She was a social creature and fond of 
 her baby's doctor. 
 
 "Antipyrin is dangerous stuff to meddle with," 
 rejoined Dale, holding the phial between him and 
 the lamp. "But we doctors run risks we never let 
 our patients take. It never seems to hurt us, some- 
 how. If it does not relieve my head, I '11 try your 
 tea at breakfast time. Fasting is a good thing for 
 most diseases." 
 
 He laid the phial on top of the medicine-chest, and 
 began arranging writing materials on the centre table. 
 
 "I 've some work to do," he said, his face averted 
 from her, while he laid out paper, blotter, and pen. 
 "Tell Bat that he must not mind if I sit up later 
 than usual." 
 
 " Ought you to write when your head 's so bad ? " 
 objected the lingering landlady. "Can't you wait 
 till morning? A good night's sleep " 
 
 "I must finish this writing to-night," answered 
 Dale, still kindly, although his voice was hollow 
 from pain. "I '11 get a long sleep after it's done. 
 Good-night! I 'm glad the baby is better." 
 
 "Good-night, sir. Bat '11 be in before he goes to 
 bed, and see you 're comfortable for the night. And 
 if you should change your mind about the tea, I 'd 
 be only too glad to make it for you, if 't was at 
 midnight ! "
 
 Mr. Welsh pays his Debt 381 
 
 "You're too good to me, Mrs. Sydney. Good- 
 night again." 
 
 He threw a fresh log on the fire, turned up the 
 lamp, watched it a moment to see if it were going 
 to smoke, and seated himself at the table. 
 
 All his motions were steady and mechanical. 
 
 He dipped the pen in the ink and wrote at the 
 top of a large sheet of paper: 
 
 " MYRTLE, T/te following is for your eyes alone. 
 Destroy it when you have read it. " 
 
 He laid down the pen, resting his head upon his 
 hand for a long minute. 
 
 Arousing himself, he dashed off in feverish 
 haste: 
 
 " The woman on account of whose death I was ar- 
 rested was my wife. 
 " / murdered her. "
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 A SHEAF OF MEMORIES 
 
 " Grief, envy, hate, were mine in fullest measure, 
 
 A shipwrecked seaman I, on Sorrow's tide. 
 I dreamed of home and hours of tranquil pleasure, 
 
 When Fate first led my footsteps to your side. 
 Sweet ! in your eyes I read a heavenly meaning, 
 
 With love unchangeable I saw them glow. 
 GOD bless thee, Love ! It was but idle dreaming, 
 
 GOD bless thee, Love ! Fate would not have it so." 
 
 EGBERT DALE read the two sentences he 
 had written, then read them over again. 
 They seemed to hold some morbid fas- 
 cination for him. In the second reading 
 his eye took in Myrtle's name at the top 
 of the paper. 
 
 A strong shudder ran through him ; the pen fell 
 from the convulsed fingers to the floor. The click of 
 the fall aroused him. He picked it up leisurely, and 
 began to write again. 
 
 For a few minutes he wrote slowly and with effort. 
 A frown drew his brows together. He had trouble 
 in choosing words. His sentences were short and 
 jerky. As he went on, the frown passed, leaving his 
 face expressionless and calm, like the death-mask of 
 Augustus. His hand traversed the paper more and 
 more rapidly. Brain and pen were at last in accord, 
 the one transcribing, without conscious effort, the 
 thoughts of the other : 
 
 " I killed her. She was my wife. There is the 
 whole story. She was my wife. She came back into 
 my life when I believed her dead, to ruin the first 
 happiness I ever knew. I killed her.
 
 A Sheaf of Memories 383 
 
 " Why am I writing this to you? I do not know. I 
 am not given to putting my emotions down in black 
 and white. Perhaps it is the egotism of a criminal. 
 I am a criminal a murderer. The man you love ! I 
 can write it without a tremor. I must not think of 
 you while I write this. It is no confession for the 
 world to gape at; for the papers to print under glar- 
 ing head-lines. It is for your eyes alone. You alone 
 will read it. You alone will know. You alone will 
 judge me. I owe it to you. I shall seal and envelop 
 it and send it to you to-night by Sydney. You will 
 read it, and then destroy it. My name will never be 
 tarnished. You will never be sneered at as the woman 
 who loved a wife-murderer. I have arranged for that. 
 You will understand how, soon enough. 
 
 " Do you recollect the night I said I would tell you 
 the story of my life sometime when you had eight or 
 ten hours to spare? 
 
 " What woman but you would have awaited that 
 time without asking a hundred tactless questions, or 
 imagining some senseless mystery? 
 
 " I keep my word. To-night I will tell you all I 
 promised. I will tell it briefly, baldly. Why not ? It 
 is not a pleasant story, but one to be hurried over as 
 quickly as possible. What a fool I am to shrink from 
 coming to the actual facts ! But bear with me. It 's 
 very hard ! 
 
 " I had pictured the time when I should tell you my 
 history from first to last. I should feel your touch 
 upon my hair and on my face. The strong, trusting 
 clasp of your dear hands would help me over the 
 darker passages. I should see the pity, the love, in 
 your eyes, and that would save me. When it was all 
 told, I should read pardon, infinite womanly for- 
 giveness, in your face. I should arise from the con- 
 fessional shriven, safe forever in the harbour of your 
 love.
 
 384 Dr. Dale 
 
 " I am writing this in a prison. You will read it far 
 away from me. Instead of drawing us together, the 
 confession will snap the last link that binds us the 
 one to the other. 
 
 " If all this seems maudlin sentimentality, forgive it. 
 I dread telling you the truth, though I have already 
 told you the worst." 
 
 Dale paused : the frown gathered again between 
 the gloomy eyes. There he shook his muscular frame 
 impatiently, and bent him over his work. 
 
 " My name is not Dale. If I have any name at all, 
 it is Barretti. That was the name my father bore. It 
 had a ' di ' before it once. When my ancestors were 
 counts of the Holy Roman Empire. My father was 
 the last of the noble line. He was implicated in one 
 of the premature Italia libera plots. That charlatan 
 adventurer, Garibaldi, was his god. He incited Bar- 
 retti to sing in public, ' Italia libera ancor non /.' 
 The song was the signal for a riot. My father was 
 arrested the next day. He escaped imprisonment for 
 life through family influence and fled the country. 
 He passed a year in England, where he married. 
 
 " Then he came to America, and settled in New 
 Orleans, where he supported himself and his English 
 wife by giving music lessons, and later as a grand 
 opera tenor. I remember him dimly, a tall, hand- 
 some man, with the sweetest voice I ever heard at the 
 South. 
 
 " When I was four years old, he killed the woman 
 he loved, the wife who had shared his poverty and 
 exile. She was my mother. I have no recollection 
 whatever of her, though I used to lie awake at night, 
 as a boy, straining my eyes into the darkness, trying 
 to call up a vision of her. I was foolish enough to 
 think that, if I could carry with me the memory of 
 my dead mother's face, life would be easier, and I 
 could have the thought that she was watching over
 
 A S heaf of Memories 385 
 
 me. It was of no use. In those long nights I could 
 see my father's face ; sometimes a line of grotesque 
 heads some grinning at me, some dripping with 
 blood would pass before me. But no vestige of 
 my beautiful mother. 
 
 "My father killed her in a fit of jealous fury. When 
 his temper got the better of him, he was a madman. 
 
 " He killed her, then fled to the marshes and hid 
 there. For weeks the police hunted for him. At 
 last they tracked him down. He was a poseur, an 
 Italian sensationalist. Who else would have made his 
 own sin, his terrors, his flight, the subject of a song? 
 Who else would have laughed in the face of the 
 police and then blown his brains out ? 
 
 " I told you the story once before. Do you recol- 
 lect it ? that night at the Folgers ; when we all 
 dined there, and Ralph asked me to sing ? It was not 
 so outre as it may seem, my singing my translation 
 of Barretti's verses. For years, I had not trusted 
 myself to think of him, or of the terrible heritage of 
 poverty, unkindness, loneliness, and evil passions he 
 had bequeathed to me. The memory was a black 
 cloud over my life. Then, under your influence, I 
 came into the sunshine. I sang that song, and gave 
 you its history as a crucial test of my new state of 
 mind. The test succeeded. Neither song nor story 
 cast more than a fleeting shadow over my spirit. I 
 was free from the horror of the murderer's memory. 
 
 " My father fled from justice, leaving me, a mere 
 baby, to the mercy of strangers. I was sensitive, 
 high-spirited, and finely strung, precocious to a fault, 
 and as different as an elfin changeling from the stolid, 
 tow-headed children of the planters in the neighbour- 
 hood to which I was taken. No one wanted me. 
 Nobody understood me. I was not lovable. The 
 neighbourhood verdict was that I must be sent to the 
 New Orleans Orphan Asylum- 
 
 25
 
 386 Dr. Dale 
 
 " Then a man who had known and admired my 
 father offered to take care of me. He was a Dr. 
 Dale, an eccentric, immensely wealthy physician. My 
 father's voice, his fanatical love for Italia libera, 
 and his marked distinction from the slouch-hatted, 
 tobacco-chewing Louisianians, interested Dale. He 
 became a sort of Maecenas to the struggling tenor. 
 
 " So, when my father died, Dr. Dale took me to his 
 own home. I lived in his house from that time until 
 I was twenty-five years old. He would not adopt 
 me legally, although I was called by his name ; nor 
 would he give me a definite status in his household. 
 By turns I delighted and annoyed him. He encour- 
 aged me to say so-called clever things. If they bored 
 him, he called me ' a beggar brat.' If they pleased 
 him, he would bring his heavy hand down on my 
 shoulder with a shout of laughter, and perhaps give 
 me a gold-piece. I sat by him at his wine suppers, 
 and was plied with champagne and brandy for the 
 amusement of his boisterous guests. I jabbered in 
 English and Italian, racking my befuddled brain for 
 funny things to say, knowing, child as I was, that I 
 would be turned out of the room as soon as I ceased 
 to be amusing, and be left to sleep off my potations 
 wherever I chanced to fall. 
 
 " Mrs. Dale (a cold, feline woman, who hated me) 
 kept her son, who was about my age, with her in 
 their own apartments during these orgies. All the 
 love and tender care that can come to an only child 
 was lavished on him. 
 
 " Once, when I was six years old, I threw my arms 
 about Mrs. Dale's neck in a spasm of demonstrative- 
 ness. I had seen her son do it, and how she would 
 gather him in her arms and kiss him and call him pet 
 names. Perhaps, I reasoned, she would treat me in 
 that way if I made the first advances. With a look 
 of disgust, as if touched by a snake, she pushed me
 
 A Sheaf of Memories 387 
 
 away so violently that I fell and cut my head on the 
 corner of a table. The scar is on my temple now. 
 
 " When a lad, I shared young Dale's tutors. His 
 father explained to me that he was educating me that 
 I might the better amuse him, and be a congenial 
 companion for his leisure hours. I entered college 
 with Dale, and learned the faster for having no social 
 life there. Young Dale took pains to tell his mates 
 that I was a dependent upon his father's charity, and 
 was there partly that I might learn to support myself, 
 partly as a sort of upper body-servant for him. He 
 even hinted that my olive complexion was not due to 
 Italian blood. This was the finishing touch. The 
 quadroon was shunned as though he were a leper. 
 
 " Dr. Dale's son and I took up the study of medi- 
 cine together. I was wild with enthusiasm over it, 
 and took extra courses. He was content to scrape 
 through. When we were graduated, Dr. Dale set up 
 his son and heir in an office of his own in Natchez 
 with a liberal allowance, the fellow having a fancy for 
 that city. I stayed in New Orleans as the father's 
 assistant. I did this on his voluntary promise that 
 he would leave me his practice and one hundred 
 thousand dollars at his death. 
 
 " I worked as his unpaid partner until I was twenty- 
 five. Then he died without a will. His wife was 
 dead. His son came into his whole estate, returned 
 to his native city, and claimed his father's practice. 
 I was homeless and penniless. 
 
 " For the next three years I was a wanderer. 
 
 " I don't like to recall that time. Every good im- 
 pulse seemed dead within me. I was embittered by 
 disappointments, furious at the thought of how I had 
 been cheated. 
 
 " One day, in Philadelphia, I met young Dale. He 
 was at the North on his wedding-trip. I was gaunt 
 and shabby, and he tossed a dollar to me in passing
 
 388 Dr. Dale 
 
 me on the street. Something snapped in my brain. 
 When I knew where I was, I was struggling with four 
 policemen who held me away from the man I had 
 struck down. Dale was ten weeks in hospital. The 
 doctors said I had disfigured him for life. 
 
 " I was horrified at what I had done. Not on Dale's 
 account, but because I recognised in it the murder- 
 ous frenzy that had caused my mother's death. Since 
 then I have fought my temper as no man ever fought 
 visible adversary. 
 
 " Things went from bad to worse. I drifted from 
 New York to Denver, from Minnesota to Alabama. 
 Everything I touched was doomed to failure. I 
 worked my way to Europe on a cattle-ship, meaning 
 to cultivate my voice abroad and to earn a living on 
 the opera stage. I had had a fair education in vocal 
 and instrumental music. Dr. Dale used to make me 
 sing for him until my throat burned, when the gout 
 held him prisoner. 
 
 " A cold, caught at sea, proved obstinate, and 
 ruined my musical hopes for the time. I came back 
 to America poorer than I went. 
 
 " I heard of the mines in the Cumberland Moun- 
 tains as a likely opening for a physician, and went 
 there. The day of my arrival in the mining village 
 of Crockett, Tennessee, there was an accident in the 
 largest mine. I was badly hurt. (Ask John to tell 
 you about it some day.) 
 
 " There was no hospital there, and but one doctor, 
 and he a quack. I could not be removed to the 
 nearest town. One guileless mountaineer suggested 
 that ' they 'd better send a load of buckshot through 
 the stranger's head and put him out of his misery.' 
 The merciful motion might have been carried through 
 if a woman had not interfered, and, after scolding the 
 men for their inhumanity, begged them to take me to 
 her mother's house.
 
 A Sheaf of Memories 389 
 
 " I fainted from pain on the way, and then sank 
 into delirium that lasted a month. When I came to 
 myself, I was lying on a corn husk mattress in a 
 lean-to opening into a farmhouse. The lean-to was 
 newly built, for the fresh pine boards reeked with 
 turpentine in the sun. They reeked, and they warped, 
 leaving cracks through which I could see sky and 
 trees. The odour of resinous woods always recalls 
 that place and time for me. 
 
 " You may recollect my rudeness when we visited 
 the moat Ralph Folger had built to receive the over- 
 flow from the reopened well, and where the smell of 
 the pine boards was heavy in the air? For the mo- 
 ment I was not far from madness. For that stage of 
 my miserable past had effectually barred me from 
 a future I might have had, a future which, even 
 then, I longed for above all else, a future with 
 you ! 
 
 "The cabin belonged to an old woman named 
 Sperry. She was bedridden, and had two daughters. 
 The elder, a shrewish, domineering creature, was mar- 
 ried and lived about a mile farther up the mountain. 
 The unmarried daughter, Mamie Sperry, had saved my 
 life. She had nursed me through my long delirium, 
 spending most of her scanty hoard of money to buy 
 me comforts and medicines. I lay there, helpless, 
 for nearly three months. 
 
 " It was the nearest approach to happiness I had 
 ever known, negative happiness, but I had had no 
 taste of any other. Despite the physical anguish, 
 those were ideal months. Mamie Sperry's devotion 
 to her mother, her care of me, the peaceful life led 
 by them in the humble mountain cottage, appealed to 
 me as they could appeal to no one but a vagrant who 
 had never known home and domestic affections. 
 
 " One day, as I was growing better, something 
 happened to change it all. I had been asleep, and
 
 390 Dr. Dale 
 
 was awakened by the voice of the viragoish married 
 sister in the adjoining room. She was scolding 
 Mamie, whose sobs were audible through the thin 
 partition. 
 
 " ' Your reputation 's ruined ! ' I heard the married 
 woman say. ' You Ve made a fool of yourself by 
 bringing him here and nursing him. Everybody's 
 talking about it, and folks won't believe anything but 
 the worst sort of things about you. You 've dis- 
 graced yourself and your family.' 
 
 " Then Mamie choked back her sobs and said, ' I 
 love him so I just could n't help it ! ' 
 
 " I did n't hear anything more, for by now I was 
 wide-awake, and buried my head in the pillows to shut 
 out their voices. 
 
 " I lay awake all that night. In my weakness I 
 was ready to believe that Mamie had innocently 
 endangered her good name by her care of me. I 
 had brought shame upon the only person who had 
 ever befriended me. There was but one means of 
 reparation in my power. After all, it mattered little 
 what became of so useless, so ill-starred a being as 
 myself. 
 
 " The next day a Methodist circuit-rider was sent 
 for and made us man and wife." 
 
 Dale laid down his pen, and stretched out his right 
 arm. It was cramped by long and rapid writing. A 
 little heap of written sheets lay in the middle of the 
 table. The methodical pile of blank pages before 
 him gleamed whitely in the lamp-glare. 
 
 The wick sputtered occasionally. He lifted the 
 lamp to make sure there was oil enough to last until 
 the task was done. From the cell below rose inter- 
 mittingly the sound of drunken weeping. The noise 
 seemed to bring disagreeable associations to the 
 writer. He could not fix his mind upon his work. 
 He looked about the room. Just within the radius
 
 A Sheaf of Memories 391 
 
 of the lamp-light he could make out the scrawl of 
 the gallows-tree and its fruit. From memory he 
 repeated aloud the satiric legend : " My Family Tree" 
 The noise from the basement ceased. Again Dale 
 took up the pen and pulled the blank paper nearer 
 to him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 OBITER DICTA 
 
 " So this is the end ! With my feet on the strand, 
 I glance back o'er the past barred with shadow and light, 
 A heap of dead rose-leaves, a mark in the sand, 
 And day shall but close as it opened in night. 
 Then why should I weep for what some hold so dear ? 
 I have lived without hope. I can die without fear." 
 
 were in a strange predicament," 
 wrote Dale. " Mamie could not leave 
 her mother. I could find no means 
 of livelihood in Crockett. I stayed 
 there until I got back my strength. 
 Then the old roving life began again. When I had 
 work I sent my wife two-thirds of all I earned. I 
 have done this ever since I parted from her, three 
 years and a half ago. 
 
 " News drifted to me of the flourishing oil-wells 
 in Pitvale. I was then in Kansas, and worked my 
 way East. I arrived here during the terrible flood 
 caused by the breaking of the Jaynesville dam. You 
 know all about what followed. 
 
 " I yielded to your brother's and Ralph Folger's 
 entreaties that I would settle here. There was an 
 excellent chance for a doctor who knew his business. 
 My coming to this place was the turning-point of my 
 fortunes. I prospered as fully as I had heretofore 
 failed. I saw daylight ahead of me at last. At the 
 end of the first twelvemonth I wrote to my wife, 
 asking her to join me in Pitvale. She answered that 
 her mother was more helpless than ever, and there 
 was nobody to take care of her if she left her. They
 
 Obiter Dicta 393 
 
 had a comfortable house in the village now, thanks 
 to me, she said, and she must stay where she 
 was. 
 
 " I never pretended to love my wife. But I tried 
 to deal honourably with her. I was ready to own her 
 before my new world, and to install her in a home of 
 her own. We corresponded for two years with 
 tolerable regularity. Her letters were affectionate 
 
 even grateful for some months after she wrote 
 that she must stay with her mother as long as the 
 invalid needed her. A gradual change crept into 
 them. I gathered from unguarded sentences that her 
 sister was at her old trade of mischief-making, and in 
 a village there was bound to be gossip. Mamie was 
 made to believe that I had practically deserted her, 
 that in my prosperity, of which she had boasted to 
 her sister, I despised my country-bred wife. Each 
 letter was more urgent than those that had gone 
 before, in requests, then demands, for money. Each 
 had more complaints of her hard lot in being a mar- 
 ried woman, yet no wife, and each had less of the old- 
 time affection. At length she never wrote except to 
 ask for, or to acknowledge the receipt of money. 
 
 " By and by I suspected what was confirmed by 
 a spiteful letter from her sister, after a quarrel be- 
 tween the two ; namely, that another man was mixed 
 up in the matter. A man of her own rank was very 
 attentive to Mamie, the sister said, and that there was 
 talk of a divorce. The spiteful letter warned me that 
 wilful desertion for a period exceeding two years was 
 valid cause in Tennessee for absolute divorce. If I 
 cared to keep my wife, I would better come and look 
 after her. I had been away from her then three 
 years. 
 
 " About two months after the receipt of this letter 
 
 to which I paid no attention I had one from my 
 wife, that indicated a revival of her former love.
 
 394 Dr. Dale 
 
 There were no reproaches and no demands. She 
 spoke regretfully of our continued separation, hope- 
 fully of what the future might have in store, apprecia- 
 tively of what she called my ' great goodness ' to 
 her mother and herself. I did n't understand it then. 
 I don't now. It may have been written to quiet the 
 suspicions raised by her sister's letter, of which she 
 may have learned. It may have been one of the 
 causeless impulses that lead women to most of their 
 troubles. 
 
 " I read the letter. It recalled the memory of her 
 tender nursing ; her fondness for me ; my utter 
 friendlessness when she took me a broken log 
 into her mother's house. I burned the letter, as I do 
 nearly all I receive, and sat before my office-fire 
 watching the gray tinder change to ashes, when John 
 came in. He had been to New York to meet you. 
 He told me of your expected visit to him. 
 
 "That meant nothing to me that night. Women 
 were all alike, I thought, in disgust. All were mer- 
 cenary ; all were fickle. I had forgotten that you 
 were coming, until until the bitter January morning 
 when I stopped frozen, tired, discouraged at the 
 door of your parlour, and looked in ! I stood upon 
 the threshold of a new world. 
 
 " The temptation was upon me. For your sweet 
 sake I was minded to flee from it. Yet, with open 
 eyes and fully aware of the peril of my position, I 
 stayed near you. Little sunshine had fallen into 
 my life. I had not the courage to turn from it and 
 deliberately choose darkness, now that at last it 
 flooded my very soul. So I lived on without 
 looking forward in a Fool's Paradise. 
 
 "Do you recollect the telegram for me, which 
 Mrs. Bowersox accused Jeff of destroying? A sec- 
 ond despatch came next day. I supposed it was a 
 replica of the first. It read :
 
 Obiter Dicta 395 
 
 " 'Mamie dead. Very sudden. Send money for 
 funeral. Telegraphed yesterday. ' 
 
 " It was signed by Mamie's sister. 
 
 " It is trite to speak of the condemned man who 
 is reprieved at the foot of the gallows; of the man 
 who has grown old in prison, to whom Freedom sud- 
 denly stretches forth her arms. 
 
 "Yes! these are trite similes, and all too weak to 
 express what I felt when I read that I was free. 
 Free to live as other men live; to love as others 
 love ; to win for my own the woman without whom 
 life were an idle mockery. I felt no grief for the 
 dead. Only a passing regret for what she used to 
 be. I had done my duty to her. I had never loved 
 her. She had ceased to love me. 
 
 "That very night I told you I loved you. That 
 night you changed this dreary old world into heaven 
 for me by giving me love for love. 
 
 " I wonder if you can guess for a moment what 
 that meant for me? To you it was the mere accep- 
 tance of the man who had won your love. To me 
 to me it was all the difference between life 
 and annihilation, between noonday and midnight. I 
 had been lonely and unhappy from the earliest hour 
 of my recollection. To me you were my youth, my 
 better nature, my love, my good angel, life from 
 the dead ! 
 
 " Myrtle ! there is no one on this broad earth 
 or in heaven above, like you ! " 
 
 The man had written fast, without pausing. He 
 had reached the point where the pen replaces the 
 tongue as exponent of the brain. 
 
 He raised his head and listened. The tramp of 
 Bat Sydney's feet sounded along the corridor. He 
 passed Dr. Dale's door, and went down the narrow 
 stairs to the cells, to be met by a howl of entreaty 
 from " Drunken Dick ! "
 
 396 Dr. Dale 
 
 The charm was broken. Dale glanced over the 
 last dozen lines he had penned. Then he leaned 
 back and laughed aloud, laughed until the room 
 rang; the bitter, mirthless laughter of a soul in 
 pain. 
 
 "To think I wrote that rot!" he muttered, run- 
 ning the ink-laden pen through the love-words until 
 they were illegible. "// the man who has striven 
 for years never to lose control of himself ! I ! a 
 self-confessed murderer! I 'm writing rhapsodies of 
 love to the woman whose beautiful life is wrecked 
 by my crime ! " 
 
 Again the wild, meaningless laughter burst forth. 
 When it died away the room seemed terribly still. 
 
 "My nerves are getting away with me!" mur- 
 mured Dale. "Three months ago I'd have sworn 
 I had none ! " 
 
 He bent over the manuscript once more. 
 
 "You know how the time passed up to the day 
 when you directed the strange woman to my office. 
 Whatever fate I may meet hereafter, that time was 
 an Eden to me that made up for all that went before 
 and came after it. 
 
 "I had sent the money to Mamie's sister a lib- 
 eral sum. I wrote three lines with it. I said, ' I 
 am sorry to hear of your loss. When you are some- 
 what at leisure, write particulars. First telegram 
 was not received. ' " 
 
 I had had no particulars. That did not surprise 
 me. My sister-in-law and I were never on friendly 
 terms. 
 
 "I was writing at my desk on the morning of 
 March fourteenth, when the office-door opened and 
 Mamie my wife came in. For a moment I 
 thought my imagination had tricked me into a ter- 
 rible delusion. She soon undeceived me. Her 
 mother was dead. She had sent the first telegram
 
 Obiter Dicta 397 
 
 in her own name. Receiving no reply in twenty- 
 four hours, her sister became impatient and tele- 
 graphed on her own responsibility. Lest I might 
 not believe that the first despatch was sent in due 
 form, Mamie had brought a copy. It ran thus : 
 
 " Mama died to-day. Very sudden. Send money 
 for expenses.'* 
 
 " I saw at a glance that the telegraph-operator had 
 mistaken ' Mama ' for ' Mamie. ' The blunder was 
 natural and fatal ! 
 
 "As soon as the funeral was over, Mamie had 
 made her preparations to come to me. She meant 
 to take me by surprise. Her sister had advised 
 this, as she was positive I was leading a double life. 
 My wife was fatigued by the journey, confused and 
 suspicious. She asked innumerable questions as to 
 my home, my associates, my income, my plans. 
 My answers did not satisfy her. She saw that I 
 was shocked by her coming. I did not affect to be 
 glad to see her. She ended her catechism by a fit 
 of hysterics. 
 
 " I paid scant heed to it all. My brain was afire. 
 Finally a plan shaped itself in my mind for immedi- 
 ate action, at least. She was mercenary. That I 
 knew to my cost. She loved me no longer. I 
 would induce her to divorce me, promising her 
 handsome alimony. I was rich. I would make her 
 rich. In the meantime until I had persuaded and 
 bribed her to return to Crockett I would hide her 
 somewhere under an assumed name; somewhere 
 out-of-town, where she would not be likely to meet 
 acquaintances of mine. 
 
 "I resolved to take her to the Eddy farmhouse. 
 The only downright lie J told her was that I was a 
 boarder there. I counted upon making that straight 
 by a private talk with Mrs. Eddy, who considers
 
 398 Dr. Dale 
 
 herself under obligations to me. So, when Mamie 
 was rested and had eaten her luncheon, and asked 
 me to take her home, I consented. She had a heavy 
 carpet-bag, which I told her to leave. I would 
 hire a man to take it out to her that evening. I 
 fully intended to do this. I intended, too, to ex- 
 plain to her, on the way, how impossible it was for 
 me to receive her as my wife, and to gain her con- 
 sent to the divorce. That being done, I would go 
 to you, confess all, and throw myself on your 
 mercy. 
 
 " I had not calculated upon the strength of the 
 poison her sister had infused into Mamie's mind. 
 She had grown to look upon me as a monster, whose 
 one aim in life was to slight and injure her. At the 
 approach to the question of the divorce, with which, 
 I reminded her, she had threatened me in the first 
 place, she flared up and declared I was a brute, 
 then broke into a torrent of hysterical tears. I 
 had quieted her somewhat by the time we met Mr. 
 Welsh, but her eyes were wet and inflamed, and I 
 could see him stare inquisitively at her. Knowing 
 him as I do, I wonder he did not stop us and ask 
 her what was the matter. 
 
 " We walked on to the North Bridge and over it. 
 I had, as I said at the inquest, pointed out the 
 chimneys of the Eddys' house, across the meadows, 
 before we were on the Bridge. The path runs for 
 some distance parallel with the other side of the 
 creek. We had gone on in silence for a while, and 
 were in the clump of willows designated by the 
 coroner as the scene of the murder, when Mamie 
 stopped abruptly. 
 
 " ' Egbert Dale ! ' she said, facing me angrily, 
 ' you 're lying to me, and you know it! You don't 
 live out there at all ! What should a doctor do liv- 
 ing so far from his office? You 're trying to fool
 
 Obiter Dicta 399 
 
 me, and you can't do it. You want to hide me away 
 where your fine friends won't see me. I sha 'nt 
 budge one step further. I 'm going straight back 
 and shout out to everybody I meet that I 'm your 
 wife, and that you deserted me. Sis said there was 
 another woman. She was right. I know who it is, 
 too. It's the woman I saw this morning; the one 
 that came to your office-door on horseback this 
 evening. I saw how she looked at you! I knew 
 what she was the minute I set eyes on her to-day. 
 I saw what kind of company she keeps, too. She 's 
 no better than she should be ' 
 
 " And then I killed her. 
 
 " I meant to do it from the instant she spoke of 
 you. In those few seconds I planned it all. She 
 had no right to disgrace me and to break your heart. 
 And she should not ! I had believed her dead, and 
 had dared to be happy. She had come back to ruin 
 me, to part me from you. I would strike her out 
 of my path as I would any other hurtful creature 
 that menaced your happiness. Would I hesitate 
 to lop off my hand if it were caught in the gear- 
 ing of a wheel that was drawing me on to certain 
 death ? 
 
 "My walking-stick is heavy. The handle is 
 loaded with lead. I knew just where to strike. 
 
 " In my hour of detection and confession, I swear 
 that I am not sorry I did it. I would do it again in 
 the same circumstances. 
 
 " I had married her to save her good name and to 
 repay her for her care of me. I had paid back the 
 debt a hundred times. I had supported her whole 
 family in luxury. She repaid me by trying to part 
 me from the only woman I ever loved. She brought 
 her fate upon herself. 
 
 " She fell into the water, clutching convulsively 
 at the willows as she toppled off the bank. When
 
 400 Dr. Dale 
 
 she struck the water, she bleated like a sheep, and 
 died. The current caught at her and whirled her 
 away. 
 
 " I had no further thought of her. Wrought up, 
 as I was, to the extreme of passion, my mind was 
 clear. I must establish an alibi. It was half-past 
 six o'clock, and I was three miles from home. The 
 evening was murky, and I chose unfrequented alleys 
 and back roads. I ran as I never ran before. I 
 reached the Bowersox house at five minutes of seven. 
 How I did it I don't know, for the way was rough, 
 and I was sadly out of training. But I was running 
 for my life and our happiness. 
 
 " If Mrs. Bowersox had kept her presence of mind 
 under Kruger's examination, she could have proved 
 a satisfactory alibi by simply telling the truth. If 
 Kruger had known more of law and disliked me less, 
 I should not have been committed to jail. You and 
 John called him 'Dogberry,' in talking over the 
 trial. I thought of Dogberry all the while it was 
 going on. I thought of what did not occur to 
 either of you, how Shakespeare's awkward, pom- 
 pous fool brought the wrong-doers to justice by 
 his obstinate foolishness. Had Kruger tracked me, 
 step by step, he could not have hit the truth more 
 directly. 
 
 "That night, after Jeff's wrist was dressed, I went 
 out-of-doors and wandered away by myself along 
 country lanes, straying at last without noticing 
 where I was, to the neighbourhood of the embank- 
 ment near the Ruth well. I went over the whole 
 tragedy, as if the principal actor were another 
 man. I could feel no remorse then. I feel none 
 now. 
 
 " I once read Eugene Aram Hood's poem, not 
 Bulwer's novel. I used to wonder how the poet 
 could define a murderer's sensations so accurately.
 
 Obiter Dicta 4 01 
 
 In my meditations that night, I felt contempt for 
 Hood's knowledge of human nature. My sensation 
 was one of utter relief. In an effort at self-torture 
 I called up the incidents of the killing. All I could 
 bring back clearly to my mind was that sheep-like 
 bleat. It was a reflex action of the throat muscles 
 and vocal cords. 
 
 " I weighed the case myself the prisoner and the 
 judge and stood acquitted. 
 
 " I was out in the electric storm, scarcely hearing 
 it, or the subsequent explosion and the cannonading. 
 I was lying on the ground under a thicket of cedars, 
 when Folger came along. 
 
 "You know the rest. All except one thing. 
 When I saw Folger' s life in danger I tried to save 
 it, not so much for his sake, as to wipe out the sin 
 of taking one human life by saving another. The 
 same feeling moved me to stand between Kruger 
 and the mob. If I have destroyed one life I have 
 saved many in my time. That may go for nothing 
 in the eyes of the world. It atones, in my eyes, for 
 that particular crime. 
 
 " After you came to me this afternoon my troubles 
 seemed over. I saw the future with your dear eyes. 
 Just after you left Welsh called on me. He wished, 
 he said, to warn me of my fate. Moved by a dis- 
 torted sense of fairness, I suppose. Kate Meagley 
 somehow got hold of the despatch Mamie sent to 
 me, telling of her mother's death. It was signed 
 in her provincial fashion, 'Mrs. Dale,' and dated 
 ' Crockett, Tennessee. ' The day of the inquest the 
 Meagley woman and Welsh put their heads together 
 over it. Both hate me. The signature breathed of 
 scandal. They were on the track of a mystery. 
 Welsh went out to Crockett and made inquiries. 
 He learned everything pertaining to the marriage, 
 and that my wife had gone East to join me. He 
 
 26
 
 402 Dr. Dale 
 
 brought Anastasia Collett, the married sister, back 
 with him to witness against me. She will gladly 
 swear my life away, by supplying the missing link 
 in the chain of evidence the motive for the deed. 
 Without that the prosecution would have no case. 
 Now, there is enough circumstantial evidence to 
 hang almost any man. 
 
 "I am respected, here in Pitvale, and if my life 
 were the only thing at stake, I would abide the issue 
 and fight to the last, trusting to my past reputation, 
 my almost perfect alibi, and to Hendrickson's clev- 
 erness, to clear me. But conviction is the very 
 least thing to be considered. 
 
 "I cannot I will not live to see the love-look in 
 your eyes change to horror. I will not have the 
 Meagley woman (who, by some underhand means, 
 has learned of our engagement) hold you up to the 
 scorn of her sister-gossips, as the dupe of an adven- 
 turer and wife-murderer. 
 
 " Heart of my heart ! what would bare life be 
 worth to me, knowing you were put to shame and 
 ridicule because of me? How could I live on, with 
 the daily memory of all I have lost in losing you? 
 Think of this, and let it soften your judgment of 
 what I am about to do. GOD forbid that I should 
 crawl to your feet at this time, and whine for pity 
 or for sympathy! Yet try to remember that it is 
 partly nay, wholly for your sake that I take the 
 law into my own hands. To die on the scaffold for 
 killing a woman who wrecked my career, would be 
 degrading. To die of my own free will, to spare 
 you humiliation, will be very sweet. 
 
 "The thought of death, by itself, has no terrors 
 for me. I have watched by hundreds of death-beds, 
 and one fact I have always noted : while some 
 have longed to die, and while others have shrunk 
 back in horror from the thought of death, yet when
 
 Obiter Dicta 403 
 
 it actually laid its hand upon them, the same look 
 came to the faces of all. A look of utter peace, of 
 content, of rest. No more horror, no more weari- 
 ness, no shrinking from an enemy. Feverish long- 
 ing for and glad hope of deliverance were supplanted 
 by that ineffable peace. On some faces oftenest 
 on the faces of those whose earthly reward had been 
 least lingered a smile, the smile of a tired, 
 happy child. 
 
 " Now, the Power that brings that look to the face 
 of saint and sinner alike, is surely not to be dreaded, 
 but rather to be met as a tender friend, a loving 
 deliverer. 
 
 "What lies beyond the gates of death, I do not 
 know. If it were terrible, if it were an unwelcome 
 change from this life, would the dead face of every 
 one whose spirit is a new-comer in that Land wear 
 the smile of perfect peace? Would the world-weary, 
 harassed, sinning man smile as childhood smiles on 
 earth ? 
 
 "This is not orthodox. I am not a religious man. 
 If I were, I should be comforting you at this mo- 
 ment with the sweet assurance that your white soul 
 and that of the murderer in heart and in act, who 
 has won your love here, will meet and be as one, 
 some day, beyond the stars. 
 
 "That would be a lie! that specious promise 
 which I have heard well-meaning sympathisers offer 
 to those who weep over their dead. I loved you. I 
 won you. I lost you. That was on earth. What 
 cause have I for hope that in a state where the 
 secrets of all hearts will be made known, where 
 sin and purity will be even farther apart than 
 they are here, I shall be able to claim you as my 
 own? 
 
 "No, dear heart! we have met and have parted 
 for the last time. For the last time I have looked
 
 404 Dr. Dale 
 
 into your eyes, have felt your dear form in my arms, 
 the pressure of your arms about my neck. For the 
 last time in this, or any other world I have 
 kissed you and heard you say, ' I love you ! ' That 
 has passed and is gone. 
 
 "There is a future life. Who can doubt it? A 
 world that sets this world right. But none where 
 you and I can meet on the same plane; none where 
 I can take your hands in mine, and say, ' You 
 are mine again, at last ! Nothing can part us 
 now! ' 
 
 " I have a notion that love (as mortals know it) is 
 of this world alone, to use or to abuse as we see fit. 
 In the world to come ' there is neither marrying nor 
 giving in marriage. ' 
 
 " 'The flower that once has bloomed, forever dies.' 
 
 " Personally, I am too much of a man to look 
 forward with keen interest to an ethereal life out of 
 the body. Nor do I concern myself greatly as to 
 the future. You were my future, my heaven, 
 Myrtle! All I asked for from GOD or man. I 
 staked all on you. I have lost you ! 
 
 " I can imagine how the Reverend Cotton Mather 
 Welsh or even dear old John would gasp at this 
 somewhat eccentric theology. But you will under- 
 stand. You always understand. 
 
 " If a year ago I had found myself in my present 
 evil case, I should have escaped (escape would be 
 ridiculously easy in this comic opera jail, in this 
 town of true friends, eager to help me), and started 
 life afresh somewhere else. Now it is not worth 
 while. You would not be with me. Until I met 
 you I had no desire to make the best of all that is 
 in me. I had looked on life as something to be got 
 through with as best one could. Not because it was 
 worth doing, but because it was inevitable. Hope
 
 Obiter Dicta 405 
 
 and I had not then met. Death I looked upon as a 
 friend to be greeted with calmness, not with fear. 
 
 " It was not such a bad philosophy. It kept my 
 head above water for many years. At sight of you 
 I entered fairyland, Arcady. Yet why should men 
 sneer at Arcadian dreams? Castles in the air are 
 far pleasanter than dungeons in the same locality, 
 and quite as profitable. 
 
 " I have written on and on and on, as fast as 
 thought and pen can fly. Much that I have written 
 is nonsense, I fear. This is the last time I shall 
 ever address you, and I dread to say ' Good-by. ' 
 
 "When I write that, I cut the last strand of the 
 straining cord that binds me to life to happiness 
 to you. 
 
 "I won't weary you with more sentimentality. 
 You will forgive me for taking my life. In this 
 way alone, can I silence Welsh, Anastasia Collett, 
 and the others. The prosecution falls to the ground 
 when there is no accused to meet it. Even Welsh's 
 conscience and Anastasia's malevolence will not 
 move them to testify against a dead man. They 
 will not dare to do it in Pitvale. 
 
 " It is late past eleven more than five hours 
 since I saw you and I am very tired. I " 
 
 " Workin' overtime to-night, ain't you, doctor?" 
 
 Dale had not heard the door open. The jailer's 
 broad face beamed at him over the top of the lamp. 
 
 "Ah, Sydney! Good-evening ! " he said pleas- 
 antly. " How 's the sore throat ? " 
 
 "Better, I guess. Wife said you'd be up late, 
 and I stayed out, on a-purpose. Anything you 'd 
 like to have before I turn in ? " 
 
 " I 've been getting up a report I 'd like very much 
 to have put into Mr. Bell's hands to-night. But as 
 it 's late, perhaps it would trouble you " 
 
 "Not a bit, doctor. I '11 call in for it in half an
 
 406 Dr. Dale 
 
 hour. I 'm a regular owl, you know, and Mr. Bell 
 keeps late hours, too. Sarah tells me you ain't 
 well." 
 
 " Only a splitting headache. I 'm going to knock 
 it out with a stiff dose of antipyrin, as soon as this 
 is done. Thank you, old man, for obliging me. 
 Look in again in half an hour." 
 
 Sydney withdrew, and Dale opened the medicine- 
 chest. He uncorked the antipyrin phial and shook 
 several cylindrical pellets into his hollowed palm. 
 With a quick, unfaltering motion of the hand, he 
 tossed them into his mouth and took a swallow of 
 water from a glass Mrs. Sydney had left on the 
 table. 
 
 Then he took half-a-dozen turns up and down the 
 room. At the piano he paused, sat down, and 
 half unconsciously played the opening bars of the 
 " Lenore " March, bringing out in masterly style the 
 weird beauty and the despair of the music. 
 
 Midway he ceased; a crashing discord breaking 
 off the march. He walked over to the table and 
 began gathering up the written sheets. The music 
 had started a new train of thought. He tried to 
 banish the unsought idea by planning how to send 
 the confession. 
 
 "I'll envelop and address it under cover to 
 John," he thought. "That will keep Sydney from 
 talking." 
 
 Still fighting with the unbidden thought born of 
 the music, he wrote a few lines at the foot of the 
 last page, knelt, and pressed his lips to the paper. 
 Folding the many sheets, he made them into a com- 
 pact parcel, and, still holding it, looked down at it, 
 his brows knit angrily. The unwelcome suggestion 
 warred fiercely with his preconceived resolution. 
 He sought in his desk for a large envelope ; threw 
 it back into the drawer, and, the frown passing be-
 
 Obiter Dicta 407 
 
 fore a new look of stern resolve, he caught the folded 
 manuscript in both powerful hands, tore it across, 
 and yet across again, and flung the tattered papers 
 into the fireplace. 
 
 The smouldering wood-ashes burst into a lively 
 blaze, roaring up the chimney and dimming by the 
 momentary glare the paler light of the lamp. 
 
 Egbert Dale did not see it. Kneeling at the 
 table, his head upon his folded arms, he was crying 
 as heart-broken children cry. 
 
 "It was my life! my very heart!" he sobbed. 
 " She would have read it, and she would have un- 
 derstood ! She would have understood all ! Now 
 she'll never know! But neither can she remember 
 me as a murderer. It 's better so! But, O GOD! I 
 love her ! and to leave her forever without a word of 
 farewell ! I love her so ! " 
 
 The strong man's body shook with horrible rend- 
 ing sobs such as strong men alone know; such as 
 few thank GOD ! can know more than once in a 
 lifetime. 
 
 Dale was not weeping when, twenty-five minutes 
 later, Sydney returned, true to his promise, to see 
 if the report were ready for "the Dominie." The 
 jailer, with all his good-will toward the prisoner, 
 was sleepy. It was sleepy weather these early 
 spring days with their high winds. He had " hooked 
 up" his horse to the wagon to take him up to the 
 Bowersox house. You would n't catch him doing 
 that for any other man in town at this time of night, 
 he had told his wife. 
 
 Dr. Dale sat at the table, his head laid upon his 
 folded arms. The room was very quiet and chilly. 
 The fire had gone out, smothered by a great heap of 
 fluffy gray ashes now lying still upon the dead em- 
 bers. The smell of burnt paper was strong in the 
 air.
 
 408 Dr. Dale 
 
 "You'll catch your death of cold, doctor, sleeping 
 here!" called Sydney, shaking the prisoner gently 
 by the shoulder. 
 
 Dale's head fell slightly to one side, bringing 
 his face into view. It was very pale, but ineffably 
 peaceful. 
 
 About the beautiful mouth lingered a faint smile, 
 "the smile of a tired, happy child." 
 
 THE END.
 
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