s. 
 
 I 
 
 Hi
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Clarence Staples
 
 BLACK FRIDAY
 
 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 By 
 
 FREDERIC S. ISHAM 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 UNDER THE ROSE 
 THE STROLLERS 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 HARRISON FISHER 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS 
 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT 1904 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 OCTOBER 
 
 PRESS OF 
 
 BRAUNWORTH & CO. 
 
 BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 
 
 BROOKLYN, N. Y.
 
 ?s 
 
 TO H. F. I.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK I 
 FLUCTUATIONS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I THE PHJNCE AND THE CHARIOT 1 
 
 II A FLURRY is HEARTS 19 
 
 III DEVELOPMENTS 33 
 
 IV A LITTLE SMILE; A Bio WEDDING 45 
 V WHY TIM WAS EXCITED 58 
 
 VI AT GAY SARATOGA 67 
 
 VII THE TELEGRAM AND ITS SEQUEL 78 
 
 VIII AN INTERRUPTED HONEYMOON 91 
 
 IX THE RETURN OF RICHARD STRONG 100 
 
 X A FLUTTER IN VALUES 111 
 
 XI CHARLIE ENDEAVORS TO NEGOTIATE AN IDEA 123 
 
 XII MR. ROSSITER VISITS THE STREET 136 
 
 XIII A DAY FOR REFLECTION 148 
 
 XIV ELINOR MAKES A RESOLUTION 162 
 XV ELINOR BREAKS A RESOLUTION 170 
 
 XVI MR. DALTON TAKES A SUDDEN RESOLUTION 180 
 
 XVII AN INTERRUPTED DANCE 193 
 
 BOOK II 
 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 I MR. STRONG RETURNS 207 
 
 II CHARLIE VISITS THE GOLD-ROOM 216 
 
 III RICHARD STRONG is STARTLED 225 
 
 IV A FIGURE IN THE MOONLIGHT 232
 
 CHAPTER PAOK 
 
 V ELINOR SITS UP LATE 245 
 
 VI THE WRITER OF THE LETTER 254 
 
 VII BEFORE THE BATTLE 262 
 
 VIII BLACK FRIDAY 278 
 
 IX NOON 286 
 
 X THE END OF THE DAY 294 
 
 XI THE MASTER OF THE SITUATION 300 
 
 XII THE DAY OF SETTLEMENT 308 
 
 XIII DALTON is PUZZLED 319 
 
 XIV THE SHADOW REPUDIATES His ALLEGIANCE 327 
 
 BOOK III 
 READJUSTMENT 
 
 I AN INTERRUPTED SONG 337 
 
 II AN ENFORCED SOJOURN 348 
 
 III THE GAMIN AND THE ROSE 356 
 
 IV AN UNSUCCESSFUL SEARCH 364 
 V A STRANGE ENCOUNTER 373 
 
 VI THE BREAKING OF THE DAY 379 
 
 VII A MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE 385 
 
 VIII RICHARD STRONG LEAVES PARIS 392 
 
 IX AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS 397
 
 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHAEIOT 
 
 The white fingers moved uncertainly over the whiter 
 keys, a hesitating accompaniment to a voice, once a 
 tenor, now a breath. 
 
 "Ah, Roberto" 
 
 A fit of coughing interrupted the singer ; one hand yet 
 continued to play irresolutely, as if waiting for the 
 vocal melody, but bravura and recitativo were gone be- 
 yond recall ; the fingers ceased their hopeless strumming, 
 and rested, at a loss, on an unresolved chord. 
 
 Some one laughed. 
 
 "Oh, papa, you are too droll !" 
 
 A small hand held back the frayed, somber drapery of 
 the doorway; a girlish figure stood framed by the dark
 
 2 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 walnut. A morning toilet of mauve-colored fabric 
 caught the sheen of sunlight; voluminous as one of the 
 gowns of Lely, it swathed, yet clung not to, the slender 
 form. Beneath a head-dress of chenille and bead net- 
 work, brown curls gently swept the white brow. 
 
 The performer arose, a half-petulant look on his thin, 
 refined face. 
 
 "And you, my child, are too forward !" he said. 
 
 "I couldn't help it, papa!" 
 
 Another laugh, and the frame lost its picture; the 
 voluminous skirt rustled as the speaker entered the room. 
 
 "Besides, it was too absurd !" she added. 
 
 "Absurd ! " 
 
 "Not you, but the butcher !" 
 
 He stared at her. In the full light, the dominant 
 characteristics of his face were pitilessly revealed ; weak- 
 ness and pride ; artistic effeminacy, mixed with a certain 
 hauteur; a man of dilettantism, perhaps, but the dilet- 
 tantism of the old school that included pre-Raphaelite 
 pictures, arias, cadenza's, and the Sapphic stanzas ad- 
 dressed to our foremothers' gloves, or ringlets. 
 
 "The butcher ?" he repeated incredulously. 
 
 She nodded. "Yes; our neighbor; our bosom friend, 
 the butcher ! He called at the front door !" And she 
 held up a card. "Mr. Thomas Jenkins, Esquire! He 
 asked for mama, and when the maid said mama was out.
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHARIOT 3 
 
 he went out and slammed the front door. It's about the 
 bill, I suppose, papa. Shall I put the card on the tray 
 with mama's other callers? Fancy their consternation, 
 sandwiched with Mr. Thomas Jenkins, dealer in tender- 
 loins !" flourishing the bit of pasteboard. 
 
 "Put the card in the fire, Elinor," he said absently. 
 "We shall trade with Jenkins no more." 
 
 "He cut us off a fortnight ago," she laughed. 
 
 With this the speaker relapsed into silence and a 
 chair, stifling a little yawn as she sank back into the 
 capacious depths, and patting down reflectively her gown 
 which outflowed with that prodigal waste of material 
 characteristic of those days of silks, satins, pop- 
 lins and passementeries. So she seemed buried, over- 
 whelmed beneath the multitude of delicate flowers woven 
 in the pattern of her dress. Her face looked out from 
 lilacs; the tip of a foot, very small, peeped from beneath 
 the flowery vestment, and impatiently tapped a faded 
 carpet that had once been quite grand, but which was 
 now only a mournful reminder of gorgeous roses and 
 rococo wreaths ; the more mournful, alas ! because car- 
 pets, unlike pictures, do not improve with age and the 
 partial obliteration of their pristine brightness. 
 
 "Bills! bills! bills!" A tap of the foot with each 
 word.
 
 4 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 The old gentleman just perceptibly shrugged his 
 shoulders as if to say : "Well, my dear, what of it ?" 
 
 ' 'From Thomas Jenkins, Esquire ; from Brown, Jones 
 and Robinson; from Madam Upstart and Mademoiselle 
 Parvenu papa, is there anybody we don't owe?" 
 
 Another faint shrug of the shoulders; an angrier tap 
 of the foot. 
 
 "Yesterday I bought a habit. 'Send that to Miss Eli- 
 nor Rossiter/ I said to the clerk. What did he reply? 
 *Mise Rossiter ! Oh, certainly ! And won't you look at 
 this coiffure? Won't you take this ruff?' No: that's 
 the way he would have answered the other women. Hi 
 didn't urge poor me, but hesitated ; wrote the address in 
 a melancholy manner, and bade me a thoughtful good 
 day. And" with flashing eyes "the habit hasn't come 
 yet! Papa, why don't you fix things with the shop- 
 keepers and other tradespeople?" 
 
 "Quite right, my dear ; quite right !" spoke up a deep 
 voice, and, with the words, the speaker, bearing the 
 weight of her presence to lend emphasis to her approval, 
 swept into the room. 
 
 A woman of decided emphasis herself ; a chin that was 
 emphasized by being double ; a face that was emphasized 
 by the height of her hair ; a figure that was emphasized 
 with avoirdupois ; the whole, or sum total of her appear- 
 ance being emphasized by a stupendous dress which stood
 
 THE PEINCE AND THE CHAEIOT 5 
 
 out like a bell; an expansive pardessus of black silk, an 
 exaggerated underskirt, vastly trimmed and adorned; 
 ridiculous, perhaps, yet "with circumference mighty, to 
 repel all invasion," both formidable and disconcerting 
 to the masculine mind ! 
 
 "Quite right !" repeated Mrs. Eossiter, majestically. 
 
 Mr. Eossiter's shrug gave way to words; Miss Eossi- 
 ter's queries might be dismissed with a gesture, but Mrs. 
 Eossiter was not lightly to be set aside. 
 
 "Certainly, Madam ; exactly !" murmured Mr. Eossi- 
 ter, vaguely. 
 
 "There's Charles, the coachman," went on Mrs. Eossi- 
 ter. "He had the impudence to come to me for his 
 wages and when I told him to apply to the proper au- 
 thority, muttered something about 'much good it would 
 do him. 5 " 
 
 "And look at Susan, mama !" spoke up Miss Eossiter. 
 "When I asked her to be quick about dressing my hair 
 for the madrigal concert, she said something about slow 
 pay." 
 
 "I was thinking, my dear," said Mr. Eossiter, passing 
 his white hand languidly through his white hair, "we 
 might dispense with Charles' services and dispose of the 
 horses." 
 
 "What ! sell my horses ! Walk !" 
 
 "Why not?" gently.
 
 6 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Edwin, you're a fool." 
 
 This time Mr. Kossiter did shrug his shoulders, but 
 whether in mild expostulation, incredulous dissent, or 
 implied contradiction was not made clear. At that mo- 
 ment he was more concerned with the fact that the truth 
 must come out, sooner or later. Sooner, by Mrs. Rossi- 
 ter's present temper! The disagreeable, bare, bald 
 truth! 
 
 Mr. Kossiter preferred to drift through life's troubled 
 seas; with him, it was "better to hold back the truth 
 than speak it ungraciously." Virtues that plagued you ! 
 fie ! Infirmities, without the thorn, were the more eas- 
 ily entertained ! Unconsciously, in his policy of the art 
 of living with the least trouble to himself, he modified 
 the old proverb, and "Peace if possible, but truth at any 
 rate" became with Mr. Kossiter "Truth if possible, but 
 peace at any rate." 
 
 "You know, my dear," he at length said, "we have 
 for some years been encroaching on my capital. Instead 
 of confining ourselves to the income we spent double. 
 Proportionately as the principal and the income de- 
 creased, our expenses increased. It is a simple banking 
 problem to compute how long on this diminishing scale 
 the capital will last. In our case about twenty years 
 have gone by and now the income has at length devoured
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHARIOT 7 
 
 the principal ! Both are gone. We have killed the goose 
 that laid the golden egg." 
 
 It was a long speech for Mr. Rossiter; almost a 
 maiden effort from the domestic rostrum. He was in 
 the main a silent man; one of that great army of dis- 
 creet persons who hold "a habit of secrecy is both politic 
 and moral." Now that, perforce, he had discarded the 
 habit, he waited calmly the eruption that would follow. 
 
 "We have spent your money," said Mrs. Rossiter, 
 grimly. "It was not much." 
 
 "But somewhat more than your own fortune, Mad- 
 am." 
 
 "I was a vain, silly, romantic girl, or I would not have 
 married a diminishing income." 
 
 "It is highly nattering, my dear, that you married 
 me," answered Mr. Rossiter, in a courtly manner. 
 
 "You ! Fudge ! All my friends warned me against the 
 match." 
 
 "And in spite of their warnings, you had your way." 
 
 "Goodness knows where ifs all gone to!" observed 
 Mrs. Rossiter, irrelevantly. "I never bought a hat and 
 paid what they asked. I never missed a bargain sale in 
 my life, and no one ever bought more at them. No 
 woman ever stinted and pinched as I have done ! Hasn't 
 the cook always had orders to save the cheese parings
 
 8 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 and candle ends? Was anything ever wasted? But it 
 is so like the man to blame the woman " 
 
 "My dear, I am not blaming any one ; I am only stat- 
 ing a fact." 
 
 "That I must give up my carriage ? Never ! If you've 
 spent your money use mine." 
 
 Mr. Rossiter flushed furiously. His throat felt very 
 dry ; his supineness was followed by a momentary excita- 
 tion of feeling. 
 
 "I am very sorry, my dear, but " he began. 
 
 "But what but what? Why doesn't the man speak?" 
 
 "Your money, Madam, as you know, was invested by 
 me in bonds of the southern states." Mr. Rossiter hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 "Well? Well?" impatiently. 
 
 "And these bonds" speaking with difficulty "have 
 been recently repudiated." 
 
 "Bonds ! repudiated ! What does that mean ?" 
 
 "It means, my dear, that a community which sold its 
 paper and received money for it, now declares that paper 
 invalid. In other words, the bonds, purchased in good 
 faith by innocent investors, have been outlawed by the 
 legislature of the very state which issued them." 
 
 Mrs. Rossiter did not turn white, that was impossi- 
 ble; but her face grew a shade less rosy; her eyes 
 snapped; her figure appeared to expand indefinitely.
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHARIOT 9 
 
 Mr. Rossiter grew proportionately smaller; he also be- 
 came absently interested in what was going on outside 
 the pictures in the room anything save Mrs. Rossiter. 
 Miss Rossiter's lips parted ironically ; she curled up more 
 easily in the great chair like a spectator who settles her- 
 self for comfort as the curtain goes up. 
 
 Les Precieuses Ridicules or Ecole des Maris! Miss 
 Rossiter had not been long home from school, and the 
 French comedies were still fresh in her mind. Her head 
 lay daintily against the rosewood carving of the chair; 
 her toe had vanished ; the shadow pf a smile now played 
 about her mouth. The comedy; the irony; the tragedy 
 of pounds, shillings and pence ! 
 
 "You mean my money's gone I" spoke up Mrs. Rossi- 
 ter, ominously. 
 
 "I mean it is invested in southern states bonds," said 
 Mr. Rossiter, clearing his throat. 
 
 "Which are valueless I" 
 
 "The action of the legislature was entirely unexpected, 
 Madam. Some of the best banks hold these bonds. 
 When I invested your money in them, it was, as I told 
 you, on the most conservative advice in the Street. 
 The credit of the state has heretofore been held in- 
 violable." 
 
 "Fiddlesticks ! After frittering away your own for- 
 tune you now rob me of mine !"
 
 10 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 The slight figure of the man came to life; it seemed 
 about to spring into resentful action; but the great fig- 
 ure grew greater, more overwhelming, more indignant, 
 more crushing! 
 
 "Yes, rob! rob P 
 
 He did not answer. A moment she waited. 
 
 "You're a fool; you always were; you always will 
 be !" And Mrs. Rossiter swept from the room. 
 
 Mr. Rossiter stood by the window. He was paler than 
 his wont; his hand trembled. The girl continued to 
 watch ; she seemed studying him impersonally, as one 
 might almost observe a stranger. Was he handsome? 
 Yes ; after a fragile, womanly fashion. The strength of 
 his family had gone into his ancestors ; he remained the 
 surviving shadow. 
 
 Without, a hand-organ began to play, and the strains 
 of the latest popular piece of the concert saloons, the sad 
 melody of Polly Perlcins, floated far and near in that 
 aristocratic neighborhood : 
 
 "I'm a broken-hearted milkman, in grief I'm arrayed, 
 Through keeping the company of a young serving-maid " 
 
 The man at the crank thought Mr. Rossiter was look- 
 ing at him and all the sunshine of Italy beamed from his 
 countenance ; he even sent a monkey toward the window, 
 but at the aspect of that agile and hairy form, and tha
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHARIOT 11 
 
 gibbering face suddenly and unexpectedly thrust before 
 him, Mr. Rossiter drew back with an abrupt exclama- 
 tion. The girl in the chair began to laugh. 
 
 "Give him something, papa," she said. "Just to show 
 we can give him, if we want to." 
 
 Mechanically Mr. Rossiter felt in his waistcoat and 
 drew forth a piece of silver, which he regarded du- 
 biously. 
 
 "Give it to him." 
 
 "But, my dear, this is twenty-five " 
 
 "We can't be any poorer. And imagine how rich he'll 
 think we are !" 
 
 "The monkey, or the man?" observed Mr. Rossiter, 
 with a feeble attempt at levity. 
 
 "Both, you goose!" 
 
 Whereupon the father lifted the window and handed 
 the coin to the chattering petitioner^ who grasped it in 
 his eager paw and vanished downward with mercenary 
 and sordid glee. But the expression of the performer 
 is beyond words to depict ; doffing his cap, he bowed and 
 bowed, and smiled and smiled ; then grasping the handle 
 of his instrument he played frantically, presto, prestis- 
 simo, the while he bobbed the monkey up and down with 
 a string, as if the higher its leaps the more apparent his 
 own overwhelming gratitude. 
 
 "There !" observed the girl. "In his mind deluded
 
 12 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 heathen ! we are richer than any one on the street. I'm 
 sure Miss Vanderhoff, who is worth five millions, never 
 gave him more than five cents. As we gave him five 
 times that, we must be worth twenty-five millions at 
 least. Think of it, papa ! Are there twenty-five millions 
 in the world?" 
 
 Mr. Eossiter started. "Twenty-five millions !" he re- 
 peated slowly. "They say Richard Strong has twice 
 that." 
 
 "Mr. Strong," repeated the girl. "Such a common- 
 place man and such a princely fortune !" 
 
 "My dear, it is the commonplace men, as you call 
 them, who are the princes nowadays." 
 
 "I suppose so. The modern Cinderella is carried off 
 by Mr. Nobody who everybody thinks is Somebody. 
 There is no such thing as fairy tales in this prosaic life 
 any more." 
 
 Mr. Eossiter did not answer. "The handsome prince 
 with his golden chariot !" went on the girl. "Where is 
 he ? The only man I know who really looks like a prince 
 is Cousin Charlie, and I'm sure lie hasn't any golden 
 chariot. He's as poor as Cinderella herself." She 
 thrust out her foot with a little ironical exclamation. "It 
 isn't so very large, is it?" and then tucked it back 
 quickly ; "but too large for Cinderella !" 
 
 "My child," said Mr. Eossiter, deliberately, although
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHARIOT 13 
 
 hesitatingly, "Mr. Strong called on me not long ago. 
 He asked permission to pay you his addresses." 
 
 The rose-pink of her cheek deepened. 
 
 "You mean to marry me?" she asked with feigned 
 composure. Then she gave a little gasp and laughed. 
 
 "He makes up his mind very quickly, doesn't he, 
 papa? I suppose that's because he is such a good busi- 
 ness man. A man of quick decision ! That's what the 
 newspapers say of him. 'Mr. Strong buys the famous 
 running-horse, Jolly Fellow. Took in his points at a 
 glance !' Or, 'Mr. Strong buys a railroad. Just five 
 minutes in deciding. He will rehabilitate it.' Per- 
 haps he wants to rehabilitate me! What did you say 
 when he asked you, papa ?" 
 
 Mr. Rossiter regarded her helplessly. 
 
 "That it was your affair, not mine!" 
 
 The girl arose quickly and threw her arms around 
 Kis neck. 
 
 "You're a dear !" she said. 
 
 "A moment ago it was a goose," he answered, as she 
 drew back, surveying him with a half-maternal, half- 
 affectionate regard. 
 
 "Well, a dear goose, then!" Her look became very 
 searching. "Why didn't you tell mama?" 
 
 He shifted uneasily. The question was obviously
 
 14 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 both embarrassing and unexpected. "How do you know 
 I did not?" 
 
 "Because she hasn't said anything about it. Be- 
 cause she hasn't " Abruptly she broke off. "The 
 truth !" placing her hands on his shoulders. "Why 
 didn't you tell mama ?" 
 
 <( Well, the fact of the matter is," he began, "I was 
 afraid" 
 
 "That mama might jump at the chance !" 
 
 His manner became apologetic. 
 
 "Well, you know your mother is we might say a 
 practical sort of woman, and I was afraid she " 
 
 The girl laughed loudly; the explanation died away. 
 
 "Poor mama !" said Elinor. "What she has missed ! 
 This is delicious ! And what did he say ?" 
 
 "He who?" 
 
 "The fairy prince !" 
 
 Mr. Rossiter was becoming more bewildered. His 
 daughter's mood was like the whirlwind; it blew him 
 hither and thither. 
 
 "Mr. Strong said ahem " 
 
 "His exact words, papa!" The hands tightened on 
 his shoulders; the brown eyes probed him. 
 
 "He didn't really say anything, my dear. Perhaps 
 he looked a little taken aback " 
 
 The hands fell from the old man's shoulders.
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHARIOT 15 
 
 "Of course," she said, "he is used to getting control 
 of whatever he wants. Anything that is wrecked ! Then 
 he restores the circulation ! isn't that what you call it ? 
 Did you speak to him about mama's bonds, papa?" 
 
 Mr. Rossiter sighed. He had wished to forget the 
 scene his daughter had witnessed. 
 
 "I believe I did mention the matter to him some time 
 ago. I asked him if he regarded the bonds as a hope- 
 less investment and he replied he so regarded them ; that 
 he had never had any confidence in them !" 
 
 "Then he knows that we are anemic ; like some of the 
 railroads he picks up ?" 
 
 "Really, my dear, I will say that Mr. Strong is a man 
 of unimpeachable rectitude. That he has a genuine re- 
 gard for you, I have no doubt. 'Mr. Rossiter,' he said, 
 'I have met your daughter and ' " 
 
 The girl placed her hand playfully over her father's 
 lips. 
 
 "Hush, papa !" she said. "He met me but twice. 
 Once at Mrs. Tanning's and once at Miss Van Dolsen's. 
 On both occasions he spoke to me; I answered; we 
 parted ! Quite romantic, dear, don't you think so ?" 
 
 "I had made up my mind not to mention the matter, 
 Elinor," he said, not without compunction. 
 
 "Then why did you ?" quickly. 
 
 "It seemed to come out naturally "
 
 16 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 "In connection with the fifty millions !" 
 
 An expression of real distress mantled his oversensi- 
 tive face. 
 
 "Elinor" 
 
 "There ! I'm not blaming you. After all, it was the 
 monkey's fault !" she said, smiling. "I believe that mon- 
 key will haunt me," she went on, after a pause. "How 
 he wanted the money ; the money ! How he begged for 
 it ; implored it ! And how he jumped when he got it ! 
 What a frightfully terrible and human thing he looked 
 like peering through the window ! As if he would have 
 done anything to get it !" 
 
 Mr. Eossiter again shifted uneasily; philosophizing 
 was not in his line. Besides, the morning had been a 
 trying one and he felt the need of fresh air. 
 
 "Well, my dear, I think I had better be off to the club. 
 Eem ember, don't tell your mother. I am sorry to have 
 distressed you. And as for Mr. Strong, I don't think we 
 shall be troubled by him. He said he would do himself 
 the honor to call ; he has not done so, however " 
 
 "But he has walked by the house every morning for 
 the last week !" 
 
 Mr. Eossiter looked startled for a moment. "It is on 
 his way to the office," he then said. "Good-by, my 
 dear."
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE CHARIOT 17 
 
 He bent over and would hare touched her brown hair 
 with his lips, but she lifted her face. 
 
 "Tut ! what's this ?" he asked playfully. 
 
 "Would you refuse a lady's lips, sir ?" she laughed. 
 
 As he kissed her, a light in her eyes, half -wistful, 
 rested on him for a moment. When he turned she looked 
 after him, almost pityingly. 
 
 "Oh the man that has me must have silver and gold, 
 Must have a chariot to ride in, must be handsome and bold; 
 His hair must be curly as any watch-spring, 
 And his whiskers as big as a brush for clothing!" 
 
 The hand-organ man was moving away and the am- 
 bitious lay of Polly Perkins died in the distance. 
 
 Miss Rossiter went to the window. The street was 
 now fairly awake; the precipitate delivery wagons 
 mingled with the luxurious landau, brougham and vic- 
 toria. Across the way a maid scrubbed the front steps 
 of the Garnett mansion with- a diligence as hearty as 
 that of the inmates' Dutch ancestors, who chased out 
 dirt and the devil with the mop and the broom. As 
 Elinor was about to turn away, a figure approached that 
 arrested her attention; a flush overspread her face; she 
 started again to draw back, but did not. Some power 
 seemed to hold her there against her will. 
 % What business had he to walk by every morning? 
 Then she noticed Miss Garnett, a hopeless spinster, peer-
 
 18 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 ing from one of the broad windows opposite. "Hateful 
 thing!" thought the girl. The figure drew nearer; he 
 was looking down; he even seemed to walk more slowly. 
 With growing antagonism the girl watched him. "How 
 strong he looks !" she thought. And then triumphantly : 
 "He is not so confident as he seems. I am sure he is 
 hesitating. He wants to call and he doesn't dare ! He 
 is afraid ! afraid " she repeated "of me !" 
 
 Her lip curled; in her eyes was an indefinable light. 
 
 "How I hate him !" she said, and at that moment he 
 looked up. 
 
 He started perceptibly when he saw her; the glance 
 they exchanged seemed of indefinite duration. He 
 bowed formally, and then she suddenly smiled. He 
 stopped outright ; she was gone. Thoughtfully he walked 
 on, but his countenance appeared transfigured.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A FLURRY IN HEARTS 
 
 A woman, saith the moralist, has two smiles an 
 angel might envy the smile that accepts a lover 
 before words are uttered, and the smile that 
 lights on the first-born babe. Miss Rossiter's smile 
 might or might not belong to the former category, 
 but whether, in any event, the heavenly host be- 
 held it with a jaundiced eye remains a hypothetical prop- 
 osition. Mr. Richard Strong, being of the earth, saw in 
 it something supernal, without pausing to analyze 
 whether it conveyed a promise or covert encouragemeat. 
 Hd had dealt in some valuable commodities, but a 
 woman's smile her smile ! was an unknown quantity, 
 and he knew not by what standard to gage it. 
 
 As he turned from the house, continuing his walk, his 
 thoughts traveled retrospectively, accumulating, classi- 
 fying after his wont, all the scanty data of their brief ac- 
 quaintance. A "How-do-you-do?" at Mrs. Fanning's; a 
 clear, musical voice rising above the bibble-babble ; 
 brown eyes, that looked at him as he liked to look at peo- 
 19
 
 20 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 pie straight, deep; the impression of an erect, proud 
 figure, though light and youthful ! 
 
 "Who are the Eossiters?" he had said to the hostess, 
 when the young girl had turned. 
 
 "The Eossiters/' that lady had replied, "have a list of 
 ancestors as far back as the Dutch pirates who scuttled 
 the Spanish treasure ships." 
 
 At Miss Van Dolsen's there had been a few more 
 words, conventional, yet well-remembered: 
 
 "I believe I met you once before, Mr. Strong at 
 Mrs. Tanning's, I think ?" 
 
 "At Mrs. Tanning's, I am sure, Miss Eossiter." 
 
 "How delightful to be always positive ! You have 
 the reputation of being a positive man. Perhaps you 
 are one of those who believe men are always sure, while 
 women only think, or guess." 
 
 "Perhaps our first meeting impressed me more than 
 it did you." 
 
 "Perhaps," indifferently. 
 
 That had been about all ; a little more, but nothing of 
 moment. Slender data for Mr. Eichard Strong to pon- 
 der over ; he who was insatiable for details ! Later Mr. 
 Eossiter had said: "It is my daughter's affair; not 
 mine." 
 
 Mr. Strong knew how to deal with men, but not with 
 women. For the first time in many years he had been at
 
 A FLURRY IN HEARTS 21 
 
 A loss what to do. He might compel the market; he 
 might compel competition to step aside; he might com- 
 pel trunk lines to sell out; but he could not compel a 
 woman's inclination. It was too intangible, subtle and 
 delicate a commodity for his strong grasp; he might 
 reach for it for ever yet never touch it; his hand would 
 close on air. This had been the burden of his thoughts 
 as he walked by her house once a day. 
 
 But suddenly a new factor had altered the tenor of the 
 situation. The proposition that had of late seemed du- 
 bious so dubious he had almost abandoned all hope of 
 it now seemed as golden as the dream of Alnaschar. 
 From Miss Rossiter at Mrs. Fanning's cold, proud ! 
 to Miss Rossiter in the window, became a space abruptly 
 spanned by a rainbow. 
 
 He came to himself with a start, finding that he stood 
 at the head of the street; the Lombard Street of the 
 rocky isle that bears on its crest the affluent city. Clang, 
 clang, tolled the bells of Trinity. For the moment, the 
 first time almost in his career, his office was distasteful 
 to him, and he who always turned to the left into the 
 thoroughfare that is the golden artery of the heart of the 
 western world, now wheeled to the right, where beneath 
 the shadow of the spire slept those who cared not for the 
 heavy or the light purse, or the loaves and the fishes. 
 
 Here, in God's-acre, the bobolink and the robin were
 
 22 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 singing merrily. Bird-songs and the fragrance of 
 flowers what had they for Eichard Strong ? Now, if it 
 had been the gentle Halleck ; he who mixed stocks with 
 poetry, and poetry with stocks ! But Eichard Strong ! 
 Yet he sat there; aye, sat and listened! And dreamed, 
 perhaps; dreamed of kinsmen and kinswomen gone; of 
 life and death ; the battle of the strong ; the light of love, 
 a sun shining on the field of strife ! One hour he re- 
 mained in the churchyard; no more, no less, for he 
 arose when from the "undaunted steeple" came the toll- 
 ing anew. 
 
 Clang ! clang I "Work ! work I 5 * said the brazen bells. 
 
 "Counting the dead men, Eichard?" said a voice at 
 his elbow, as he was leaving the burial-ground. 
 
 For an instant, he felt disconcerted ; guiltily culpable. 
 "There is no need of looking for them here in the ceme- 
 tery, Commodore," he replied, confronting his ques- 
 tioner. "Since you twisted the tail of the legislature, 
 they're all in Albany." 
 
 At this reference to the famous Harlem corner, the 
 other's eyes sparkled; the ends of his white choker 
 seemed to stand out more aggressively beyond the ag- 
 gressive whiskers that adorned the sides of his aggres- 
 sive, round, bluff face. 
 
 "We did disturb them a leetle, Eichard," said the
 
 A FLUEEY IN HEARTS 23 
 
 commodore. "They broke their word and needed a leetle 
 dressing down." 
 
 But later Mr. Vanderbilt said to his old friend, John 
 Tobin, the one-time gate-keeper at Staten Island : "John, 
 I saw Richard Strong in the graveyard. What do you 
 suppose he was there thinking about ?" 
 
 "Dunno," answered Tobin. "Got a right to be there, 
 I guess." 
 
 "He didn't look, John, as if he was trying to get a 
 corner on tombstones. Something's up !" 
 
 "Then we're likely to hear of it," answered Tobin, 
 philosophically. 
 
 Along the street where Captain Kidd and Benedict 
 Arnold once had lived, where George Washington had 
 taken the oath of office and the Stamp Act Congress had 
 assembled, Richard Strong walked with quick, firm step, 
 threading a procession of people which at this hour 
 thronged the sidewalk. Clerks, alert, and clerks, heavy- 
 eyed from the concert-saloons the night before 
 mingled with the broker, brisk as a bee, and the old spec- 
 ulator, hobbling on his cane. The professional distribu- 
 tors of "tips," the waifs and estrays from the bubbling 
 pot of finance, rubbed elbows with Plutus and Midas; 
 wealth walked before, or behind, poverty; and see ! amid 
 all, strode Wisdom and Learning, the benign, the com- 
 plaisant Greeley ! Scamps and runagates ; saints and sin-
 
 24 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 ners ; good men and bad men all merging in a common 
 channel, like a shoal of minnows scurrying toward a 
 feeding-ground ! 
 
 But a short distance and Eichard Strong reached an 
 unpretentious building, his place of business. Here 
 modest offices, nearly opposite the Treasury's marble 
 front, looked down on the busiest spot of all that busy 
 neighborhood "where Jews and Gentiles most were wont 
 to throng for trade and latest speculation." Entering 
 his own private office, Eichard Strong plunged at once 
 into his work. Upon a table a mass of documents and 
 maps were arranged with some semblance of order, and 
 over these he bent, glancing rapidly through the former 
 and keenly at the latter, finally leaning back with de- 
 cision in his chair and touching a bell. 
 
 A tall, thin man, with a hooked nose, Eoman but not 
 Hebraic, straggling white hair and the unruffled smile 
 of a child, responded, standing hesitatingly on the 
 threshold and entering not without deference. 
 
 "Good morning, Tim Taplin. Sit down, sir," com- 
 manded Eichard Strong. "There is a good deal to be 
 done and we'd better get at it." 
 
 "Yes, sir ; certainly, sir !" said Tim. 
 
 "Have you the papers of the D. B. and C. line ? Ah, 
 here they are ! Make a note that between A and B, on 
 Diagram 4, the road will have to be reballasted. Also,
 
 A FLUKEY IN HEARTS 25 
 
 at certain points indicated, steel bridges must replace the 
 wooden ones; the line to be extended to " 
 
 And so on indefinitely, spinning a web with those fine 
 tracings on the map; the sustaining strands, the main 
 lines; the branches, mere feeders strengthening the 
 meshes ! A filament requiring much patience to put to- 
 gether, that it might not ultimately glitter with dew- 
 drops instead of dividends ! The life of a weaver may 
 be short, as the Holy Book says, but it is, also, absorb- 
 ing, and, engaged in this subtle and delicate task to 
 which in the beginning that day he had, perhaps, forced 
 himself Richard Strong noted not how the hours 
 slipped by. 
 
 Tim wrote and listened; departed on errands and 
 came back again; yawned and looked at the picture on 
 the wall of that big man, Jacob Little, who had made and 
 lost nine fortunes ; yawned again and thought of Hack- 
 ett as Falstaff, and whether he and his sister would go 
 to Niblo's Garden, or for the lark of it! take in the 
 mermaid, the stuffed elephant, the fat woman and the 
 Albinos at Barnum's, and 
 
 "Tim Taplin, you're wool-gathering I" 
 
 Richard Strong was regarding him quizzically but not 
 unkindly. Tim recovered himself with an effort. The 
 shadows were falling without; his employer was a hard 
 taskmaster.
 
 26 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Yes, sir; I'm afraid I was, sir/' answered the clerk. 
 
 "That will do. You may go." 
 
 He spoke less bruskly than usual, and, when Tim 
 had departed, fell into a reverie himself. The strident 
 tones of a newsboy without, crying some new iniquity of 
 the Tweed Ring and the immoral, if not immortal, 
 "What-are-you-going-to-do-about-it?" Boss, aroused him. 
 
 "Richard Strong, you're wool-gathering !" he said 
 half-aloud, and arose. 
 
 At eight o'clock, he stood resolutely, if not altogether 
 confidently, at the door of the Rossiter mansion. He 
 wondered if Miss Rossiter had gone out; he half -wished 
 that she had; his card would the better pave the way for 
 the future than jHK 
 
 No ; the ladies were at home, said the waspish-looking 
 maid (salary-in-arrears written on her face!). Would 
 he wait in the reception-room? The visitor complied. 
 Mechanically he turned over the day's events in his mind 
 and strove to approach the business in hand with a lucid 
 understanding of what was required of him. But some- 
 how his usual clearness of perception failed him ; he was 
 conscious of waiting and expecting some one, but not 
 planning what he should say when he saw her. 
 
 A rustling gown ; a large, not a slender, figure crossed 
 the threshold, and Mrs. Rossiter, with bare arms and bare
 
 A FLUKEY IX HEAKTS 57, 
 
 shoulders, her hair a little higher, her gown a little lower, 
 approached with outstretched hand and obvious cordial- 
 ity. 
 
 "Mr. Strong, how delightful ! I have not seen you 
 since since we met at Miss Van Dolsen's. My daughter 
 will be down presently. We were speaking of you only 
 the other day" a conventional fib "and Mr. Eossiter 
 was telling me that " 
 
 "I asked him for Miss Eossiter's hand," blurted out 
 Richard Strong. 
 
 Mrs. Eossiter's face would have made the fortune of 
 a painter, could he have succeeded in depicting on can- 
 vas the amazement, incredulity, joy, chagrin, struggling 
 for mastery on her features. 
 
 "Asked for her hand !" she repeated. "For Elinor's" 
 she almost gasped. 
 
 "I should have waited I know " 
 
 "When did you speak to Mr. Eossiter?" Mrs. Rossi- 
 ter strove to regain her composure; her snapping eyes 
 boded no good for her better half. 
 
 "Some time ago." 
 
 The lady's lips were firmly compressed. She endeav- 
 ored to smile and partly succeeded. Not entirely a nat- 
 ural smile, but rather of the frozen variety, as if behind
 
 28 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 it lay a tragic mask; a transformation waiting for Mr. 
 liossiter ! 
 
 "And what did he say?" 
 
 "That it was Miss Rossiter's affair, Madam." 
 
 His hearer's bosom rose and fell violently; her fan 
 fluttered ; she dared not trust herself to speak just yet. 
 Mr. Strong, with his millions rejected ! at least, cold- 
 ly received ! and the wolf at the door, and the creditors, 
 too herself put to the utmost shift out of pocket, if 
 not out at elbows ! Richard Strong, for whom many a 
 net had been cast by ambitious matrons, yet who had 
 heretofore escaped through the meshes, between the 
 buoys or beneath the sinkers ! But finally with an effort 
 Mrs. Rossiter controlled the raging tempest of her mind ; 
 the heaving ceased, or became more calm and tranquil. 
 
 "Of course, Mr. Strong," she said, "Mr. Rossiter 'was 
 right." 
 
 What language could tell how much the sentence cost 
 her! 
 
 "We could not think " she went on. "A young girl 
 should be free to bestow her hand with her heart. 
 Though, to be sure, young people are young people and 
 a little guidance " Her voice faded into vagueness. 
 "A mother's solicitude is naturally very great, Mr. 
 Strong," she ended helplessly.
 
 A FLUKEY IX HEARTS 29 
 
 The listener remained silent. Mrs. Bossiter gradually 
 recovered her equanimity. 
 
 "Won't you be seated, Mr. Strong?" she said solici- 
 tously. 
 
 "Thank you, Madam," he answered, and followed her 
 example. 
 
 "We are, Mr. Strong, one might say " 
 
 "Comparative strangers ?" 
 
 "Hardly that; no, I would not say that. Of course, 
 one hears all about people and almost feels as if one 
 knows them. You probably know us. The Rossitera 
 are a well-known if you will pardon the expression 
 a well-known family. General Rossiter, as you are un- 
 doubtedly aware, was on Washington's staff. On my 
 side, there is my great-great-grandfather, one of the pa- 
 troons who, when he came to New York in his coach and 
 six and liveried servants, created such a sensation that 
 the people lined the very walk to see him pass I" 
 
 "There, Madam, you have the advantage of me," said 
 Richard Strong, bluntly. "I don't know where my an- 
 cestors were during the Revolution, but I am sure none 
 of them ever rode in a coach and six down Broadway." 
 
 "Ah, well," answered Mrs. Rossiter, graciously, "some 
 of us have ancestors ; and some of us have " "money" 
 she was about to say, but didn't "and some of ua
 
 30 BLACK FRIDAY. 
 
 haven't ! Not that it matters or it shouldn't in this 
 free and democratic country, or republic, should it?" 
 
 Although Mrs. Rossiter's style in conversation was apt 
 to become somewhat involved, her meaning was generally 
 plain. 
 
 "My father, Madam, was a western cattle drover," 
 continued Mr. Strong. A flutter of Mrs. Rossiter's fan. 
 "My mother kept a boarding-house in a mining town." 
 More violent agitation ! "From her" with a laugh "I 
 must have inherited what little executive ability I pos- 
 sess. It was said and one or two of her boarders are 
 to-day prominent figures from the western world in Wall 
 Street she could carve a poor bird with such nice discre- 
 tion for a company of twenty that every man always got 
 up satisfied. Sometimes, to me" clasping his hands 
 over his knee "a lean railroad suggests the boarding- 
 house turkey it takes a deal of skilful carving to satisfy 
 the ravenous appetites of the stock-holders !" 
 
 "Dear me !" said Mrs. Rossiter, feebly. "Of course," 
 she added, with a faint sigh, "a boarding-house out West 
 is not exactly the same thing as a boarding-house in New 
 York City." 
 
 "Worse, Madam !" 
 
 Mrs. Rossiter straightened rather haughtily, but im- 
 mediately relaxed.
 
 I
 
 A FLURRY IX HEARTS 31 
 
 "Out there, the boarders wear revolvers in the dining- 
 room, and carry their bowie-knives into the parlor !" 
 
 The hostess laughed ; she felt in duty bound to do so ; 
 but it was not a hearty laugh; it rang artificially. 
 Richard Strong regarded her keenly, when suddenly his 
 thoughts shifted from boarding-houses and decrepit rail- 
 roads and Mrs. Rossiter's ancestors to a tall and grace- 
 ful form that seemed to appear by magic, and now stoocL 
 before him, clad in white, her head very proudly raised, 
 but her face paler than it had impressed him at Mrs-. 
 Tanning's. If Richard Strong was not Miss Rossiter'r 
 prince of the fairy tale, she certainly seemed to his eyes 
 more beautiful than all the gracious beings of child- 
 hood's lore, and, when she gave him her hand, he bent 
 over it silently, having no words ; like a courtier, voice- 
 less before his queen. A great joy leaped in his heart ; 
 he looked into her eyes ; to him they were full of wonder- 
 ful lights. The vanities of the world fell magically from 
 his shoulders; they two seemed alone; dwellers of a new 
 earth; a garden, variously called Eden, the Elysian 
 Fields, the Bowers of Bliss ! 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Rossiter felt that she was intruding in 
 that Hesperidian atmosphere, for, murmuring something 
 about "dear Edwin," she managed to effect a not too 
 pointed exit, effacing herself from the presence of 
 Richard Strong in a most quiet and unobtrusive manner
 
 82 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 for a person of such weight and importance. Not that 
 she did not listen after a memorable interview with 
 Mr. Eossiter which that gentleman never forgot at 
 the hea'd of the balustrade, but was little rewarded for 
 her pains. Mr. Strong was not so self-assertive as he had 
 been earlier in the evening; at least, he seemed to have 
 less to say, and that in a tone that did not carry to the 
 spot where Mrs. Rossiter, red from bending over, was 
 peering downward. 
 
 "Well, my dear, what did you find to talk about ?" said 
 Mrs. Rossiter, when it was all over, and Mr. Strong's 
 footsteps could be heard echoing down the front steps. 
 
 "Not very much, mama !" was the light reply. 
 
 "And did he not even say when he would call 
 Bgain?" asked the elder lady, in what might almost be 
 designated a playful tone. 
 
 "He has asked us to go to La Juive Monday night.''" 
 
 "La Juive ! my dear ! One of my favorite operas ! 
 Such soulful music ! And Mr. Strong's box is one of 
 the most prominent in the theater although they say 
 he's seldom there, himself. Good night, my dear; good 
 night! How beautiful you are looking to-night !" And 
 Mrs. Rossiter's pent-up affection expended itself in a 
 parting caress.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 DEVELOPMENTS 
 
 The world stared to see Miss Roesiter and Mr, 
 Strong together at the opera ; it also had a pre- 
 text to stare on sundry other occasions at the 
 Ole Bull concerts, the Robertson plays, the artists' ex- 
 hibition. Of course, every one knew Mr. Strong, but 
 heretofore, society had seen little of him; not that he 
 appeared to care for it now save for one member of it. 
 The latter fact was patent to all, and furnished the basis 
 for much talk over tea-cups. Mrs. Rossiter was given due 
 credit; truly she had the managerial eye, and her 
 daughter scarcely "out" ! 
 
 If Elinor realized what people were saying and how 
 she was the central figure of neighborly tittle-tattle, her 
 manner did not betray such consciousness. With Mr. 
 Strong she carried herself much as with other people, 
 only perhaps in his case her girlish imperiousness was 
 slightly emphasized. The self-consciousness she had felt 
 on the occasion of his first visit had quickly vanished. 
 He had not appeared the aggressive, dominating charac- 
 33
 
 34 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 ter her preconceived notion had pictured him, and his 
 obvious constraint put her entirely at her ease. It may be 
 the very knowledge of her power over him brought with 
 it an unconscious satisfaction which called for the exer- 
 cise rather than the disuse of those weapons belonging to 
 her sex. Here was some one whom the world counted a 
 leader, a man of iron, yet he was to be swayed by a word, 
 a gesture. In her presence he was sometimes embar- 
 rassed, almost awkward, and then she would study him 
 with the superior smile of girlhood. She d'id not realize 
 the difference in their ages that the balance of years lay 
 to his credit for on the occasions when they were alone 
 his reserved diffidence made him almost boyish. 
 
 She even, perhaps, found pleasure in testing her in- 
 fluence, and at least once, with the result that her con- 
 fidence in herself was slightly shaken. He had asked 
 them all to occupy his box for a certain opera, where- 
 upon Elinor suggested another night when a different 
 and, to her, more pleasing work was to be given. 
 
 "I am sorry," he said, "but on that evening I can not 
 join you. I have a business engagement." 
 
 The girl looked somewhat surprised; it was the first 
 time he had not been swayed to her will. 
 
 "And would you rather talk business than listen to 
 music?" she said.
 
 DEVELOPMENTS 35 
 
 "I have to," he answered simply. "At least, on this 
 occasion." 
 
 She lifted her brows. 
 
 "How disagreeable !" she said. "To have to do 
 things !" 
 
 Her manner that night puzzled him, for he was not 
 cognizant he had given her cause for offense. When he 
 called a few evenings later, she kept him waiting no in- 
 considerable period, and when she did come down, her 
 eyes expressed just a trace of malice. 
 
 "Thank you for the flowers," she said, giving him the 
 tips of her fingers. 
 
 "Did you like them?" he asked dubiously, noting at 
 the same time that she wore none of them. 
 
 "Oh, yes," she answered pointedly; "I was over- 
 whelmed by them." 
 
 Mr. Strong flushed. "Send up all the red roses you 
 have in that case," he had said to the florist. At her 
 words and accent, he wondered for the first 
 time if the mere lavishness of his gift had not savored 
 of ostentation. He was a most unostentatious man in 
 his own tastes and requirements, and he vaguely regret- 
 ted that he had 1 not looked to see how many flowers there 
 really had been in the case. At the same time he ar- 
 gued from cause to effect the fact she had not a single
 
 36 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 flower in her dress augured she was not pleased, but he 
 did not blame her ; he himself was the delinquent. 
 
 The next time, however, he sent her only a single rose, 
 the selection of which caused him considerable trouble 
 and solicitude. In fact, he was so long in casting about 
 for what he wanted, that when he reached his office he 
 surprised himself by being ten minutes late at a di- 
 rectors' meeting. The six grave faces that confronted 
 his from the long table seemed like a reproof, and, as 
 Eichard Strong called the meeting to order, he de- 
 spatched matters with a vigor that atoned for that half- 
 hour's dalliance in the primrose path. 
 
 That night he felt even less confident than usual when 
 he went to the Eossiter house. Women, he told himself, 
 were like flowers; he knew as little of the one as of the 
 other. But when he entered the room and she came in 
 with his rose on her dress, the scales seemed to fall from 
 his eyes. His face changed: she did care for him a 
 little perhaps 
 
 His cause for self-congratulation, however, was as 
 ephemeral as it was sudden. She was more capricious 
 than ever, leading the conversation to the most frivolous 
 depths, until a gradual change settled on his spirits and 
 a conventional distance once more separated them. Then 
 she was satisfied, for she could not quite forget the ex- 
 pression with which he had first regarded her.
 
 DEVELOPMENTS 3? 
 
 During all this time he had not spoken to her of that 
 other vital matter, though once or twice he had appar- 
 ently started to approach it, but with a quick divination 
 she had somehow managed to elude the subject. Soon, 
 however, she was to learn that her position was not so 
 impregnable as at first it had seemed. One night he was 
 unduly thoughtful, she lighter, more animated; but her 
 gaiety failed of its usual effect. When he did speak he 
 said: 
 
 "Miss Eossiter, I don't know whether your father ever 
 spoke to you about a conversation I once had with him." 
 
 Elinor's color swiftly changed; she endeavored to in- 
 terject some remark not germane to the subject, but 
 this time he persevered, stubbornly, firmly, and' instinc- 
 tively she felt she could not stop him. His eyes were 
 dark, deep, glowing; they dismayed her, yet she could 
 hardly look away from them. Quickly she arose. His 
 face grew paler. 
 
 "I told him that I wanted you to be my wife." 
 
 The girl's hand trembled; she stood half-turned from, 
 him. He too, arose, his features strong, powerful. 
 
 "There isn't much to say/' he went on. "When one 
 has said that, it seems to be all." 
 
 For the moment the resources of the past seemed to 
 desert her. 
 
 "Won't you look at me ?" he said.
 
 38 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 She raised her eyes, almost defiantly; her face was 
 sober enough now. 
 
 "Could you care for me enough for that ?" 
 
 She strove to tell him what was in her mind; that 
 she could not, never could marry him, but at that mo- 
 ment a strange thing happened to her. She asked her- 
 self if it was really true she didn't care for him at all. 
 For an instant he waited ; a wave of force seemed draw- 
 ing her against her will. Steadfastly she resisted it. 
 Of course, she did not care. 
 
 "Good night," he said. 
 
 She gave him her hand almost mechanically. Her 
 eyes could not meet his now. 
 
 "Good night," he repeated, holding her hand. He 
 dropped it. For a moment there was silence. "May I 
 call again ?" 
 
 Did she speak? Did she bow her head in assent? 
 She knew that if he went with no sign from her, she 
 would never see him again. She remembered after- 
 ward the look of joy in his eyes as he left. What 
 did it mean? She pressed her hands to her head. "He 
 made me," she thought, and her cheeks burned. Then 
 into her eyes came a flash. 
 
 "He may call," she said, "but he will find me firm 
 firm!"
 
 DEVELOPMENTS 39 
 
 In thus determining upon her future course and 
 seeking to intrench herself in a stronger citadel than 
 before, Elinor learned, however, that it is easier to give 
 an advantage than to regain it. The next bit of gossip 
 the World heard and the World had been expecting 
 it, and, therefore, evinced no surprise was the an- 
 nouncement of the engagement of Miss Kossiter, daugh- 
 ter of Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Kossiter, to Mr. Eicharu 
 Strong. 
 
 "Made the most of her opportunity!" said Society. 
 
 "I am very glad, my dear, for your sake," had 
 been Mrs. Eossiter's comment. 
 
 Mr. Eossiter only kissed her. 
 
 At this period Elinor, be it confessed, occasional^ 
 looked a little troubled, yet not unhappy, as a per- 
 son might appear who was asking herself questions 
 sometimes finding the answers to her liking; again, 
 of a character to cause inward study. But every girl, 
 no doubt, thus communes with herself during this, 
 the momentous epoch, and she discovered no reason, 
 perhaps, to think she was undergoing experiences un- 
 usual or so much out of the ordinary. 
 
 "The serious duties of life ! The responsibilities you 
 assume, young ladies, when you enter upon the broad- 
 er field of woman's destiny " The echoes of that 
 
 last address at boarding-school seemed fitted to her case;
 
 40 BLACK FFJDAY 
 
 she could smile at it now, as then, but those tremen- 
 dous, inevitable obligations, whatever they were, had 
 come to nest, or rest, on her untried young shoulders. 
 She could endeavor to shake them off, but they only 
 came back to her. So she sighed, laughed, and let 
 them be. Certainly Mr. Strong appeared the imperson- 
 ation of what the essayist would have called "her des- 
 tiny." 
 
 She still treated him as at first although fore- 
 warned that her power was at times subject to his will 
 and he bent his head to that pleasant yoke, finding 
 her caprices as charming as bewildering. But very 
 shortly after the public proclamation, Mr. Strong sud- 
 denly announced to her his intention of going away 
 to England, on an imperative matter, to be gone two 
 months, possibly longer. 
 
 "Two months !" she said, studying him with clear 
 eyes. Could he leave her so long now? 
 
 "Yes," he answered, and added in his direct fashion : 
 "It is necessary." As if that disposed of every phase of 
 the situation! 
 
 "When do you go?" 
 
 "To-morrow." 
 
 She opened her eyes wider; for a moment there was 
 silence.
 
 DEVELOPMENTS 41 
 
 "Why are you going?" she then asked in a serious 
 tone. 
 
 "The success, of a railway system I am inaugurating 
 depends upon the conversion of certain bonds and the 
 cooperation of the English holders of various interests." 
 
 "I'm sure I don't understand," she observed, holding 
 herself more erect. 
 
 "You see," he went on, "conservative England has 
 taken a great interest in my plans. And it is to Eng- 
 land we turn for much of the backbone of our railroad 
 enterprises." 
 
 "Oh !" she said, looking at him from a cold distance. 
 And then in a more lively tone : "How nice it must 
 be to have so much business ! I suppose you think of it 
 all the time ! Of course you must go. I wonder if you 
 will succeed in what was it? converting certain 
 bonds? That means making some more money, doesn't 
 it ? But you always succeed, don't you ?" 
 
 "Not always," he said, smiling. "But then, you 
 know, success is often built on failure." 
 
 "Most of the people I like best in the world, in the 
 category of your Street, would be considered failures," 
 she observed lightly. 
 
 He looked at her, but did not answer. 
 
 "Some of them are so delightfully irresponsible !" 
 she continued.
 
 42 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Yes?" he assented, rather puzzled. 
 
 Capriciously she stood before where he was seated. 
 
 "Indeed, they awaken a fellow-feeling!" 
 
 "Why?" he asked, thinking more of her than of her 
 words. 
 
 "Didn't you know that / am irresponsible?" 
 
 He looked at the mocking lips, the kindling eyes, 
 the graceful, proud figure. 
 
 "I know you are beautiful !" he said, leaning for- 
 ward, with his heart in his eyes. 
 
 It was the first outburst of flattery she had ever heard 
 from him ; it sent the hot blood to her cheeks ; drowned 
 the half-defiance in her eyes. At the same time, coupled 
 with what had gone before, it angered her, and this feel- 
 ing became paramount. But almost immediately he 
 looked down ; his face became grave ; his brows concealed 
 something wistful in his gaze. 
 
 "I'll try to expedite the matter as much as possible," 
 he said. 
 
 Her lips pressed firmly together, and the conversation 
 lagged on other matters. 
 
 When he arose to go he looked at her longingly a mo- 
 ment; then taking both her hands in a close grasp, he 
 strove to speak to her of what was most on his mind. 
 
 "Of course it is too bad, but of course, too, you must 
 go, 1 ' she had answered with shining eyes and a frosty
 
 DEVELOPMENTS 43 
 
 little smile. He did not seek to analyze the reason, but 
 never before had he found it so difficult to express him- 
 self ; and, at a loss, he drew her into his arms. After- 
 ward', as he turned from the house, he had but the re- 
 membrance of a parting that seemed inadequate and 
 disappointing. 
 
 When he had gone Elinor stood for a moment in an 
 inflexible attitude ; then stole to the window in the dark- 
 ened sitting-room and looked out. Eetracing her steps 
 to the hall, a snatch of a song came from her lips, but 
 the musical impulse soon expended itself and silently she 
 began to rearrange the waltzes, opera scores and ballads 
 with which the top of the piano was littered. As she 
 went up the stairs, a sudden blankness or sense of loss 
 seemed to deaden her spirits. 
 
 Thereafter, however, any feeling she may have enter- 
 tained toward him or business did not interfere with 
 her pleasures. Possibly, even, she exerted herself to un- 
 usual gaieties. The season, with Parepa Eosa operas, 
 the concerts at Steinway Hall, assemblies in the salon 
 ~bleu of the famous caterers', and dances at the Four-in- 
 Hand club-house, did not lack festivities, and in a whirl 
 of multitudinous diversions, she obeyed the Chesterfield- 
 ian adage and snatched the passing flowers of joy with 
 the best grace imaginable. 
 
 It may be she sometimes thought of ending a situa-
 
 44 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 tion fraught with perplexities, but the World had heard 
 and accepted the announcement, and she shrank from 
 the publicity that would follow the severing of the tie. 
 Also, she had passed her word, and to a girl of her pride, 
 that meant a great deal. Other reasons which she 
 might not fully acknowledge, yet which existed, were in 
 all likelihood delicate threads further shaping the fabric 
 of her fate. Certainly she did not appear to regret his 
 absence, but accepted other attention freely. Society 
 even went so far as to comment thereon, but Mr. Eos- 
 siter, who knew Elinor well, saw nothing anomalous in 
 her bearing. 
 
 "Did you convert the bonds?" were almost her first 
 words to Mr. Strong upon that gentleman's return. 
 
 "Yes; everything's all right," he answered. "I'm 
 sorry I was delayed a little longer than I thought I 
 should be. I hope you didn't mind?" 
 
 "I ?" she laughed, but her voice sounded rather hard. 
 "I've had a perfectly lovely winter !"
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 A LITTLE SMILE; A BIG WEDDING 
 
 Happy the bride the sun shines on ! Miss Ros- 
 siter's felicity, measured by the standard of the 
 familiar saw, should have been unequivocal, for 
 on that day of days the sunlight lay in shimmering lus- 
 ter on the city. 
 
 The marriage was to be celebrated in Mrs. Rossiter's 
 church, a fashionable place of meeting, or exclusive ec- 
 clesiastical club, where the Word and the World lay 
 down together like the lion and the lamb in the millen- 
 nium; where soft lights and short sermons tranquil- 
 ized the congregation and assuaging oil was poured' on 
 the troubled conscience. Once it is indeed chronicled 
 the rector had awakened and roared as gently as any 
 sucking dove, but the sermon occasioned so much dis- 
 approval that he immediately relaxed to moderation, 
 and the poppy and mandragora again prevailed in the 
 sacred place. 
 
 Richard Strong was not, in the strict sense of the 
 word, a church-goer, but he had been prone often to re- 
 45
 
 46 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 pair to the great white chapel on Brooklyn Heights, 
 to listen to Mr. Beecher, and to become a part of that 
 vast, democratic congregation wont to feed, not on dis- 
 courses mild as mother's milk, but on a more invigorat- 
 ing, strength-giving, moral diet. 
 
 Thus it came about that because of his friendship and 
 admiration for Mr. Beecher and in his ignorance of 
 hymeneal etiquette, Mr. Strong had the temerity 
 to suggest that it would be a fine thing to have 
 the ceremony performed by that minister. Mrs. Ros- 
 siter's face was a study. Her daughter married in that 
 common auditorium, where the people surged and strug- 
 gled and even climbed on to the window-sills; where 
 the children sat on the very steps of the pulpit while the 
 minister was preaching ! Mr. Beecher was a great man, 
 no doubt his salary was evidence of that, but the Ros- 
 siters had never taken kindly to revivals or evangelists 
 "theology T}ouffe," or "religion bouffe" they accepted 
 the apostles, of course, but they had lived so long ago 
 the Rossiters had never been brought into personal con- 
 tact with them ! 
 
 ''Of course," she said, "the ceremony could only take 
 place in the bride's church." 
 
 Mr. Strong laughed and quickly abandoned the point. 
 Temple, tabernacle, or ecclesiastical club, it was really 
 all one to him, the result would be the same, and he
 
 A LITTLE SMILE; A BIG WEDDING 47 
 
 was a man who sought results without quarreling need- 
 lessly with ways and means. 
 
 For many years the Rossiter mansion had not assumed 
 so festal an aspect as on that particular wedding-day, 
 and all the street was up in arms or rather, up in 
 eyes to do honor to the occasion. Windows com- 
 manding a view of the house especially the windows of 
 those residences belonging to people that had not been 
 invited to the marriage were at a premium among the 
 respective feminine members of the various families. 
 In fact, during all the past week, these windows had 
 had eyes, watching the tradespeople coming and going. 
 
 "Parcels ! parcels ! parcels !" had murmured Mrs. Par- 
 ker, who was not of Mrs. Rossiter's circle. "And only a 
 few months ago, no one would trust them !" 
 
 And truly the Rossiter credit had soared of late; 
 Brown, Jones and Robinson had not only been very glad 
 to send up what Mrs. Rossiter selected, but had urged 
 that good lady to the temptation of further extrava- 
 gances. Even Thomas Jenkins, Esquire, had called 
 this time at the back door and humbly solicited the 
 continuance of that patronage that had suddenly be- 
 come so desirable. 
 
 In the reception-room of the old homestead the shab- 
 by-genteel aspect of furniture, draperies and carpet was 
 overshadowed and lost sight of in the profusion of deco-
 
 48 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 rations and floral adornments. Here were gathered the 
 heroine of the occasion and her bridesmaids. Did Miss 
 Eossiter realize the importance of the step she was tak- 
 ing? With more than usual vivacity she was chatting 
 with her fair bevy of assistants, the whiteness of her at- 
 tire emphasizing a heightened color which gave to her 
 cheeks the tint of wild roses. 
 
 The mother of the bride, adorned in the splendor of 
 green silk, trimmed with point applique the material 
 from the now obliging Brown, Jones and Eobinson 
 glanced from time to time severely, almost disapprov- 
 ingly, toward her daughter. 
 
 "Why, the child's frivolous," she thought. "In my 
 day young people looked upon marriage as a very solemn 
 occasion." 
 
 Obviously Miss Rossiter's bridesmaids also belonged 
 to a newer and more volatile generation, for they were 
 all talking at once and fluttering like so many white 
 pigeons around the cote at feeding-time. 
 
 "Oh," said one of them, familiarly known as "Posie" 
 Stanton, "to get married and then not spend the honey- 
 moon in Paris is like not getting married at all !" 
 
 "You should have made Paris one of the conditions, 
 Elinor P 
 
 "And then reveled in gig-top hats and Eistori bon- 
 nets P
 
 A LITTLE SMILE; A BIG WEDD1XG 49 
 
 "And seen the Empress Eugenie at one of the balls at 
 the Hotel de Ville. They say her dresses are dreams."* 
 
 "Yes, I should certainly have insisted on the gig-top 
 hats and Eistori bonnets !" said Miss Eossiter, with a 
 laugh that sounded a little forced. 
 
 "How stupid they forgot the orange-blossoms!" ex- 
 claimed a miss, who wore a small shepherdess wreath 
 and a string of flowers which fell over her throat like a 
 necklace. "Fancy a bride without orange-blossoms F 
 
 "Oh, Charlie Dalton has gone after them and hero 
 he comes !" as the front door opened and the servant 
 ushered in a young man who approached without that 
 precipitancy that the importance of the errand seemed 
 to demand. 
 
 Tall, broad-shouldered, moving with a certain careless 
 grace, he presented a figure any woman would have re- 
 garded twice. And looking twice, the chances are her 
 glance, the second time, would have lingered unduly, if 
 not approvingly, on the well-set head, clear-cut features, 
 and rather cynical dark-blue eyes. 
 
 Following this new-comer closely came a short homely 
 little man, with side whiskers, and the kind brown eyes 
 of a spaniel, whose manner betrayed considerable per- 
 turbation, if not positive alarm, at being thus suddenly 
 plunged, as it were, into a roomful of vivacious young
 
 50 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 ladies; especially as he was seized upon at once by one 
 of the aforesaid intimidating personifications of pi- 
 quancy, Miss Posie Stanton, the box which he carried 
 promptly confiscated and its contents admiringly sur- 
 veyed by the whole party. 
 
 The bride turned to the first new-comer. Her eyes 
 were bright; above the clear, delicate brow, her brown 
 hair, with its tinge of gold, fulfilled the scriptural re- 
 quirement, and was a glory to her ; with a nervous hand 
 she pushed it back. 
 
 "Thank you, Cousin Charlie !" she said lightly. "There 
 was really no need, but mama wanted to make sure. She 
 is so afraid something will go wrong." 
 
 "Don't mention it!" he answered. 
 
 His glance passed over her from head to foot, a gleam 
 of involuntary admiration replacing the irony in his 
 look. The gown of rich white silk sheathed her in 
 shimmering folds; her figure was replete with girlish 
 grace as she stood there, her hands loosely clasped before 
 her, her head very erect above the white neck. A suc- 
 cession of giggles from Miss Posie and the bridesmaids 
 caused him to look away. His expression changed. 
 
 "They are trying on your orange-blossoms, Elinor," 
 he said. "How they all envy you! Each little heart 
 ie filled with a big wedding !" 
 
 "Yes," she laughed. "It is certainly a very important
 
 A LITTLE SMILE; A BIG WEDDIXG 51 
 
 event!" And turning, she walked toward the brides- 
 maids. 
 
 He looked after her moodily. The Eossiters, he was 
 well aware, had suffered deterioration, if not collapse, 
 of fortune. Miss Eossiter was rich in all that makes a 
 young girl attractive ; Kichard Strong 
 
 "Come on, Tom," he called impatiently to the young 
 man who had accompanied him. "The other ushers 
 will be at the church. It's time we were off." 
 
 And Tom or the Shadow, Charlie's Shadow, as he 
 had been dubbed at college obeyed with an alacrity 
 that denoted a glad desire to escape from the bewildering 
 proximity of Miss Posie and her friends. 
 
 "My dear child, are you all ready?" The voice of 
 Mrs. Eossiter impressively dominated the scene. "It 
 wouldn't do to keep all the people waiting," she added. 
 
 "The people!" murmured Miss Eossiter, vaguely, as 
 one of the maids arranged the fragrant blossoms and 
 another applied a caressing hand in a final 'adjustment 
 of tulle. "Will there be many of them?" 
 
 "Many of them ?" repeated Mrs. Eossiter. "The place 
 will be full. They'll be packed in as close as Jamaica 
 figs!" 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Rossiter!" cried Posie, rushing upon that 
 lady like a miniature whirlwind. "The carriages are 
 at the door !"
 
 52 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "I believe the hour has approached," said Mrs. Ros- 
 siter, majestically, drawing herself up. "Elinor, I see 
 your father in the hall. You had better go now." 
 
 The adjoining windows and those across the street 
 awoke to sudden life and interest. Alas ! that the pride 
 and pomp of the once ceremonial bridal procession of 
 the days of Jacob and Samson has fallen into disuse; 
 that Miss Eowley and Mrs. Crowley and the other inter- 
 ested neighbors could look down in the present instance 
 on an aggregation of carriages only, each vehicle dashing 
 away independent of the other equipages, presumably 
 to a common destination ! 
 
 On their way to the church, Mr. Rossiter and his 
 daughter were both rather quiet. For the time her vi- 
 vacity seemed to desert her. He took her hand; she 
 leaned her head a little toward him. 
 
 "How would it be," she said suddenly, "if we didn't 
 go to the church at all ?" 
 
 "My dear !" he exclaimed, startled. 
 
 "Isn't mama happy ?" she went on irrelevantly. 
 
 "And you" 
 
 "I?" she repeated. "Of course!" 
 
 He stroked her hand'. "You like him, don't you, 
 papa?" she whispered. 
 
 "Very much, my dear !" 
 
 "Within the hymeneal temple crowded an ostentatious
 
 A LITTLE SMILE; A BIG WEDDING 53 
 
 gathering. The majesty of robes a queue contrasted 
 with the airiness of feathers. If the diminution of the 
 circumference of skirts to the tiny circle of the waist 
 was suggestive of an hour-glass, the tongues that moved 
 incessantly were like Time. Every lady gleamed as if 
 swathed in delicate armor, for no dress, sack or bonnet 
 was considered complete in those redoubtable days un- 
 less plentifully peppered with glass beads. After a 
 wedding or a church service, the sextons, it is chronicled, 
 did a thriving business, picking up beads and bugles 
 from pews and vestibule ; and it was a notorious fact that 
 when Mrs. Bullion entered the sacred edifice, the path- 
 way behind her was so strewn that Mr. Bullion, who fol- 
 lowed meekly in her wake, set the nerves of the sensi- 
 tive on edge with the crunching and crushing of his 
 boot-heels. 
 
 Everybody was there! All the people the Kossiters 
 knew and many they didn't know. Packed as close as 
 figs, truly, as Mrs. Eossiter had surmised, for Miss 
 Eossiter was a girl of acknowledged beauty and Mr. 
 Strong a man of acknowledged substance. Those shut 
 out the rank and file to whom the sight of a grand wed- 
 ding was the great desideratum, and, failing that, the 
 sight of the grand people the next best thing employed 
 themselves in the endeavor to identify those who flitted 
 across the sidewalk, and then flitted up^the steps of the
 
 54 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 church, exuding faint odors delicate as the perfumes of 
 Arabia. 
 
 Occasionally some one not from Madison Avenue, or 
 the other sacred residential precinct, crossed their range 
 of vision and got in "Tennessee" Claflin, for example, 
 spiritualistic medium to the great commodore, and her 
 sister, Victoria C., who wore an "Eve hat" a leaf trim- 
 med around with a feather! And, like th'6, hallowed 
 court of the temple of old, the modern holy place be- 
 came also invaded by the "money-lenders" ; x Brewster 
 dressed like a drover, with Avarice written- pn his face 
 and Eeligion shining from his eyes; and f . ( 
 
 "There goes Jim Jubilee, Junior," said one of those on 
 the outside to his companion, a pert-looking serving- 
 maid, as an alert figure mounted the steps of the re- 
 ligious edifice. 
 
 "Who's he?" she asked'. 
 
 "Don't know who Jim Jubilee is! Jim Fisk, what 
 owns all the banks and all the gold mines and a bench of 
 judges and a bevy of ballet girls." 
 
 How long was Miss Eossiter forced to wait at the en- 
 trance of the main aisle into the church ? It seemed an 
 interminable period. Yet the minister was there, and 
 near the altar "Behold the bridegroom, go ye out to 
 meet him !" 
 
 Her hand shook a little. Then she heard the organ
 
 A LITTLE SMILE; A BIG WEDDING 55 
 
 low, deep, reverberating and, after an interval, found 
 herself walking, apparently through no volition of her 
 own, leaning ever so lightly on her father's arm, her 
 hand like a leaf clinging to a branch that was shaking 
 somewhat itself ; wondering at the beauty of the flowers ; 
 conscious of the concentrated staring of many, many 
 eyes. 
 
 How far was the altar ! how strong the perfume of 
 flowers ! Flowers, flowers, everywhere ! What a bower 
 of them ! And through them the luster of the lights 
 beaming, twinkling, flickering! Was she dreaming; 
 were the people illusive; the flowers, fantasies of grace 
 and color? No; she really stood there before an actual 
 altar in the actual glamour of that radiant scene. Not 
 only stood there, but stood and answered soft and low, 
 thrilling the heart of Eichard Strong as it had never 
 thrilled before; then suddenly a broken "God bless you, 
 dear !" her father's voice ; it was over then ; over. Ab- 
 ruptly she awoke and looked around her. 
 
 Standing near, Charlie Dalton watched her atten- 
 tively. Her face was shadowed with a short veil; from 
 each side floated a mass of tulle. The veil shrouded her 
 with mystery ; through aroma and redolence he breathed 
 the sweet fragrance of the orange-blossoms; the flowers 
 she held which seemed a part of herself. Then he 
 saw Eichard Strong, his face illumined; no conceal-
 
 56 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 ment, no mystery there; the light of throbbing passion 
 resting on his powerful features. 
 
 The bland, demulcent tones of Mrs. Eossiter's rector 
 died away in the distance ; with the best taste and sweet- 
 est manner he had tied the nuptial knot. Some minis- 
 ters would have gone at it roughly, like a sailor with a 
 hempen cord; Mrs. Rossiter's rector performed the task 
 as gently as a lady's maid tying a sash, smoothing out 
 the ends, and adjusting the whole to a pretty effect. 
 First it had been up the aisle ; now it was down the aisle. 
 This time Richard Strong walked with the bride, who 
 seemed slenderer in contrast with his stalwart figure, 
 and beautiful as one of the lilies near the altar. 
 
 A hum from those without; the patient rank and file 
 at length were again to be rewarded with the sight of 
 the bride ! "There she comes !" from nurse-girl and 
 serving-maid; exclamations of praise unqualified, as the 
 couple crossed the sidewalk; honest admiration which 
 gave credence to the adage that all the world loves a 
 bride. 
 
 The carriage door was flung open ; the bride stepped in 
 and the equipage was about to dash away, when a tall 
 figure pushed through the spectators to the vehicle. It 
 was the clerk, Tim Taplin, hatless and unmistakably 
 excited.
 
 A LITTLE SMILE; A BIG WEDDING 57 
 
 "One moment, sir, there's a little matter of busi- 
 ness " 
 
 "It'll have to keep," said Kichard Strong. 
 
 The carriage drove away and the crowd laughed heart- 
 ily and even jeered at Tim, who continued to stand there 
 as in a maze. 
 
 "It's all very well to say it'll have to keep," muttered 
 the clerk, "but suppose it can't keep?" And Taplin 
 sighed half-disheartedly. 
 
 Another than himself was staring after the departing 
 vehicle. 
 
 "Well, Tom," said Charlie Dalton, quickly, as his 
 glance met that of his satellite, when the equipage had 
 turned a corner, "what did you think of the perform- 
 ance, old man?" 
 
 ' 'Never saw anything go off better," returned the 
 Shadow. "It was a great success." 
 
 Charlie's lip curled. "Success ? Yes. But devil take 
 it, Tom," he added bruskly, "he gets a good bargain !"
 
 CHAPTEE V 
 
 WHY TIM WAS EXCITED 
 
 "Mr. Strong's chief clerk, sir!" Tim Taplin 
 had whispered to the usher of tLe church some time 
 before the wedding ceremony, and that obliging in- 
 dividual had conducted him to a pew not far from the 
 front. 
 
 Here Tim settled back with a sigh of complete satis- 
 faction. Splendid ornamentation, beautiful ladies, daz- 
 zling costumes it was almost as interesting as the 
 nightly spectacle from the gallery at Wallack's ! In 
 one sense it seemed even more alluring; at the theater 
 Tim remained perched near the ceiling, remote from the 
 fashionable portion of the audience, from whom he was 
 separated by the inexorable decree of fate or fortune ! 
 In the church, on the contrary, he found himself a 
 veritable part of the bon ton, lolling back on a cushioned 
 seat, the soft luxury of which contrasted forcibly with 
 the uncompromising hardness of the wooden benches in 
 the palace of amusement. 
 
 For a few moments Tim closed his eyes with a thrill 
 
 58
 
 WHY TIM WAS EXCITED 59 
 
 of sensuous pleasure, while through his mind floated 
 the old couplet: 
 
 "Shall I be wafted to the skies 
 On flowery beds of ease?" 
 
 Then, after a brief enjoyment of bodily gratification, 
 he again looked around him. 
 
 At first the extraordinary amount of originality al- 
 lowed in hats impressed him to the exclusion of other 
 ideas, but gradually he became aware that amid the 
 scene of vainglory, faces familiar were set Tennie Claf- 
 lin, who might be "short" on stocks, but was always 
 "long" on spirits, with a rising market for floating ban- 
 joes and phantom guitars; fair "Jennie June" who 
 sometimes ventured albeit timidly on the Street; and 
 yes there sat Uncle Samuel Brewster in a pew just in 
 front of him, improving the passing hour, not by study- 
 ing the worldly spectacle in the church, but by reading 
 from the Good Book which he held upon his knee. 
 
 "When Uncle Sam'l quotes the Scriptures, look out 
 for David and his sling," some one had said of the old 
 man. 
 
 Now, however, he was only immersed in the Book. 
 If Avarice sat in his heart six days of the week, Religion 
 ever wrestled with his soul on the seventh day and 
 sometimes, on other special occasions. Uncle SamTs
 
 60 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 face at that moment betrayed unwonted piety and sanc- 
 titude. 
 
 Now to Jam that worJceth is the reward not reckoned 
 of grace, but of debt For by grace are ye saved. 
 
 The old man closed the book and clasped his hands. 
 "By grace by grace!" he murmured. 
 
 Again he opened the sacred volume, but his finger had 
 slipped from the leaves and his eyes fell on a different 
 chapter. "Talent" "shekel" caught his eye; "the gold 
 of Sheba !" Now Avarice, a misshapen Caliban, jostled 
 rudely with humility and reverence in Uucle SamTs 
 breast ; not only jostled, but grew and grew in misshapen 
 ugliness and deformity. 
 
 "The gold of Sheba !" Uncle Sam'l fell to wonder- 
 ing what it was like; how it was fashioned; how much 
 there was of it. Illusive indefmiteness of the Holy 
 Book ! A shekel weighed, he knew, just three hundred 
 and eighty-four barleycorns. But how much did a 
 barleycorn weigh? 
 
 From consideration of the barleycorn to the conspir- 
 acy against Richard Strong, hatched in the church, rep- 
 resented but one of those processes of association of ideas 
 by which many human inspirations for better or worse 
 are evolved. Three hundred and eight} r -four barley- 
 corns made about a handful, thought Uncle Sam'l; in 
 imagination he held them in one hand and the shekel in
 
 WHY TIM WAS EXCITED 61 
 
 the other, then fell in his mind's eye to examining the 
 coin. A pot of manna on one side Uncle Sam'l had 
 read' all the Good Book could tell him about gold and 
 si her, the "king's weight" and the "weight of the taber- 
 nacle" on the other side, Aaron's rod ! 
 
 Why Aaron's rod, pondered Uncle Sam'l. A rod 
 was something to smite with; to use upon your enemy. 
 Gold, then, was it also a lash? Uncle Sam'l knew it 
 was. Had he not often felt the castigation of it? He 
 began figuring how much it had cost him at different 
 times, when some one had caught him in the pillory on 
 the Street ; how many talents and shekels would it make ; 
 IIOTT many grains of barleycorn? 
 
 One occasion arose in his mind : when he had set him- 
 self against Eichard Strong, and when like a giant, re- 
 sistless, that builcler and promoter of values had' stridden 
 steadfastly to his end. 
 
 What a scourging that had been ! He felt the stings 
 of it yet. In Uncle Sam'l's hand the imaginary coin 
 he held grew and changed; Aaron's rod became a ser- 
 pent, the personification of all that is wise and wily. 
 The serpent crawled up to his shoulder and hissed in 
 his ear, hissed and whispered, and its voice was dulcet 
 and mellifluous. The listener, with the book on his 
 knee, a rapt, if not holy, expression on his face, seemed 
 to see ten thousand talents and ten thousand Aaron's
 
 62 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 rods all suddenly turned into serpents, before wkich 
 Kichard Strong was fleeing. 
 
 Uncle SaniTs worn and wrinkled face gleamed and 
 glowed with unhallowed joy. A field of serpents let 
 loose on his enemy what a retribution ! 
 
 "Uncle Sanrl," said a stammering voice by his side, 
 "y-y-you are very de-v-v-vout this morning !" 
 
 It was the witty Travers, the courtly jester of the 
 Street, who thus rudely awakened the old man from his 
 avenging dream. 
 
 "I suppose you are r-r-reading where it says to the 
 p-p-plundering money-lenders: Thou shall not have 
 d-d-divers weights in thy bag." 
 
 "Travers/' said Uncle Sam'l, a deep and cunning 
 purpose shining from his watery eyes, "do you remem- 
 ber how Strong gave me a drubbing once? Well, I've 
 got a rod in pickle for him." He could not get Aaron 
 out of his mind. "I've got a rod in pickle for him/' he 
 repeated. "Strong is going away. It will cost him 
 more than railroad fares and hotel bills. It will cost 
 him a few shares in some of his railroads. You 
 had better get on the right side of the market. I have 
 got it all planned out." 
 
 In spite of the place in which he found himself Tra- 
 vers could hardly restrain his laughter. 
 
 "You hoary old s-e-einner !" he replied. "So that's
 
 WHY TIM WAS EXCITED 63 
 
 w-ir-what you got out of the Holy Book ! It m-m-may 
 be an inspiration, but not of the L-L-Lord I" 
 
 "A honeymoon/' chuckled Uncle Sam'l, "is a luxury 
 few of us can afford." And he closed the Book and put it 
 back on the rack. 
 
 Neither of the speakers had noticed Tim Taplin be- 
 hind them ; if they had noticed' him it is doubtful if they 
 would have remembered who he Avas. Tim was but one 
 of that army of small workers whose name is legion. 
 But he had eyes to see, ears to hear with, and a moderate 
 capacity of intelligence which, when not pushed to too 
 high pressure, responded fairly to the occasion. It is 
 undeniable that in the present instance the pressure was 
 great; a little more horse-power seemed demanded than 
 the engine of understanding was capable of, but Tim did 
 his best. 
 
 He began to realize that Uncle Sam'l, a tough, wiry 
 old prize-fighter, was about to enter the arena again ; that 
 he was looking for retaliation and Richard Strong. Tim 
 made this out after a fevered contest in his own mind 
 with the pros and cons. The clerk, also, remembered 
 the "drubbing" his employer had bestowed upon the 
 other; he had a vivid recollection of how Uncle Sam'l 
 had sought to overthrow, upset and annihilate the care- 
 fully conceived, elaborately worked-out plans of Richard 
 Strong ; and how the latter had opened wide the throttle
 
 64. BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 and driven to success with a force that had swept aside 
 all opposition and carried consternation to the camp of 
 the obstructionists. But Uncle Sam'l had crawled 
 up again and now was once more in excellent position 
 for battle. 
 
 "Strong is going away. I have it all planned out." 
 
 These were the ominous words that rang again and 
 again in Tim's brain. What planned out? A cam- 
 paign of some kind, of course, against his emplojer. 
 The "right side of the market" could only be interpreted 
 that Richard Strong would be on the wrong side. Tim 
 had an abiding faith in Richard Strong, single. But 
 
 Seneca, seeing a house falling to the earth, looked 
 around and observed : "Where is the woman ?" Tim had 
 only to look up to see her. There she was, walking up 
 the aisle; how fair! yet Tim had his doubts. 
 
 He gazed at Uncle Sam'l. That individual was re- 
 garding her intently a keen, knowing, penetrating 
 glance ! Was he measuring the strength of Richard 
 Strong's absorption in her beauty? Uncle Sam'l 
 chuckled; her every charm was his ally. And Richard 
 Strong railroads had no substance for him; he was 
 now engaged in the fantastical occupation of castle- 
 building! Uncle Sam'l unctuously clasped his hands 
 before him and rubbed them. She was more comely 
 than he expected, although he had heard there had been 
 many well-favored women in the Rossiter family. He
 
 WHY TIM WAS EXCITED 65 
 
 did not envy the groom the possession of such a bride; 
 he rejoiced with him, as it were; his mood reechoed 
 for the other the praises of the Canticles in her behalf. 
 
 "I must get to Mr. Strong; I must warn him," 
 thought Tim. 
 
 But how ? The words of the rector were already float- 
 ing through the sacred edifice; in a moment the cere- 
 mony would be finished and RL'^ard Strong and his 
 bride would be gone. 
 
 "Excuse me, please !" whispered Tim to his neighbor. 
 "A sudden indisposition " and rising, he passed be- 
 fore him and out of the church. 
 
 Fortunately the aisle was thickly carpeted; his foot- 
 steps were noiseless, and his sudden departure attracted 
 little attention. How could it be otherwise when the 
 eyes of the multitude were riveted upon a slender figure 
 in white ; when the ears of the entire gathering were in- 
 tent to catch the answer of her lips? 
 
 Thus Tim stood waiting when Richard Strong and 
 his bride at length drew near. The clerk's heart 
 throbbed ; he had forgotten his hat in his anxiety to get 
 out. It was the hardest task he had ever set himself to 
 perform, and he held back until the last moment. 
 
 But finally he nerved himself to the ordeal, and 
 "It'll have to keep !" That was all the satisfaction 
 he had received for the important information he had to 
 impart.
 
 66 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 A flutter of the bride's veil, through which the girl's 
 white face shone, and the carriage was off. The congre- 
 gation poured out, with clatter and chatter a bibble of 
 praise, and a babble of dispraise an animated stream of 
 loquaciousness and color that divided and subdivided it- 
 self into no less mercurial streamlets which, in turn, 
 themselves flowed unquietly into many streets, and grad- 
 ually ran themselves out into various houses and man- 
 sions. 
 
 What should he do now? asked Tim. Eisk another 
 rebuff ? After all, perhaps, was he not exaggerating the 
 danger? Did not Eichard Strong know how to defend 
 himself ? The "right side of the market" ! It might 
 mean but a point or two; not a collapse one of those 
 small victories, the effect of which would be as ephemeral 
 as unmomentous. A few lambs might be sheared, but 
 the leaders would they not come out comparatively un- 
 injured? Such skirmishes were of daily occurrence 
 and 
 
 Thus the mechanism of Tim's understanding, which 
 had' run so erratically during the church service, now 
 relapsed to its normal activity or inactivity. 
 
 "I'll wait until to-morrow," he said. "I've made a 
 mountain out of a mole-hill and an idiot out of my- 
 self." 
 
 And Tim went back to find his hat !
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 AT GAY SARATOGA 
 
 "Bride and groom ! There's no mistaking her." 
 
 "Nor him !" 
 
 At Saratoga, in those gala days, when society threw 
 over the popular resort the radiance of its reflected 
 glory, the pleasure of watching the people arrive at the 
 hotels was not among the least of the many attractions. 
 From far and wide came the guests, a cosmopolitan, 
 complex gathering, all seemingly bent on the enjoyment 
 of a perpetual festival, and, incidentally, drinking the 
 waters. The great spa was then the playground of the 
 country, where grown-up people, as well as children, 
 capered and frolicked, and only the man of many ail- 
 ments was relegated to a special background of his own. 
 
 With a rattle and a rumble, on the night of Miss 
 
 Kossiter's wedding, the stage had stopped before the 
 
 front entrance of one of the principal hotels and was 
 
 emptying itself of its load of living freight inside, and 
 
 67
 
 68 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 its dead freight outside portable Xoah's-ark sort of 
 trunks, called "Saratogas'' when closely following the 
 greater vehicle out of the darkness came a carriage, 
 which drew up sharply behind the coach and from which 
 emerged a stalwart, rather thick-set gentleman, and a 
 young girl. From the coach to the carriage the staring 
 gaze of the assembled watchers was transferred, and 
 slowly, beneath this general survey, the pair mounted the 
 steps, moving into the bright light from innumerable 
 gas jets on the broad veranda. The girl was tall, taste- 
 fully dressed, and such seemed the consensus of opin- 
 ion carried herself well, rather proudly, perhaps. She 
 looked tired, as if the journey had been long, and ap- 
 peared to take no special interest in the brilliant scene 
 with which she was suddenly confronted. Nor was her 
 manner marked with embarrassment at the almost silent 
 contemplation of the crowd; she acted either uncon- 
 scious of the observant, inquisitive eyes, or indifferent 
 to them. 
 
 "Yes; their wedding trip !" 
 
 "Where are they from ?" 
 
 "New York you couldn't mistake her !" 
 
 Amid such comment, the man, followed by his fair 
 companion and several porters bearing hand luggage, 
 made his way across the extensive lobby to the desk and
 
 AT GAY SARATOGA 69 
 
 inquired for the proprietor. That gentleman came for- 
 ward at once with an urbane smile and conciliatory 
 manner. 
 
 "I telegraphed you to reserve rooms/' said the new- 
 comer. 
 
 "What name ?" 
 
 "Richard Strong." 
 
 The hotel man's smile grew broader ; his hand shot out 
 affably; he beamed on the young woman. How many 
 brides and grooms had he sheltered in that vast hostelry ! 
 
 "Just so," he said. "I have reserved for you part of 
 the Vanderbilt suite. You will find the rooms all ready 
 and waiting for you, Mr. Strong." 
 
 And that gentleman did. High- walled, spacious 
 apartments fairly blazed with the brilliant illumination 
 from crystal chandeliers. Thick, brightly-flowered car- 
 pets lent cheerfulness to the rooms, while massive, open- 
 carved, rosewood' chairs and sofas were in keeping with 
 the palatial expanse of the apartments. 
 
 "Well, here we are !" said Eichard Strong. "In spite 
 of the hotel runners and porters at the depot ! Confess, 
 Elinor, they rather startled you." 
 
 "They were a little persistent." 
 
 "Persistent!" he exclaimed. "Donnybrook Fair is 
 order and quiet ^compared to that depot when a train 
 comes in. But " glancing around him cheerfully when
 
 70 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 the porters had withdrawn and they were left alone 
 "they are not sparing of their lights." 
 
 Her gaze followed his to the great chandeliers ablaze 
 with scores of flaring gas jets. 
 
 "It's quite like a fete, isn't it?" he continued. 
 
 "Would you mind turning out some of them?" she 
 asked, with a faint smile, as she sank down on one of the 
 settees. 
 
 "Mind ? 'Not a bit !" and suited the action to the 
 word. "How is it now? And the rooms are they to 
 your liking?" 
 
 "They are large enough, aren't they?" she answered 
 mechanically. 
 
 "Everything is large here," he laughed. "It is the 
 proud boast of the proprietor that he has verandas a 
 mile long and twenty-two acres of carpet." 
 
 She made no reply to his comment and he looked at 
 her quickly, noticing she had not yet removed her hat 
 or wrap. 
 
 "You are tired, Elinor ?" 
 
 "Yes," she confessed, passing her hand across her 
 brow. 
 
 A sympathetic expression shone from his eyes. He 
 gazed down at her proudly, anxiously. Perhaps that 
 consciousness of his own bodily strength made him but 
 the more solicitous for her. He smiled gently.
 
 AT CAY SARATOGA 71 
 
 "It has been a hard day for you. !Mowadays to get 
 married is an ordeal for any woman. But you went 
 through it bravely, and, as Mrs. Eossiter would say ' 
 a gleam of humor shining from beneath his heavy 
 brows "it went off without a break !" 
 
 "She studied the carpet attentively. With her head 
 down-bent, her hair threw a shadow on her face a 
 shadow that darkened her eyes. 
 
 "I don't know how you'll like it here," he continued, 
 <f but it is a little early for the sea-shore. Besides " 
 with a laugh "all brides nowadays want to go to Sara- 
 toga !" 
 
 At his laugh she glanced up, drawing her gloves 
 nervously through her hands. 
 
 "The ride on the train seems to have given me a head- 
 ache," she answered irrelevantly. 
 
 With real concern he studied her. 
 
 "What you need," he said, "is rest. You will be your- 
 self to-morrow. You have had too much to think of 
 to-day." 
 
 "Perhaps that is it," she assented. 
 
 "Yes, that's what you need," he repeated decisively. 
 "Eest !" A moment he hesitated. "I I think I'll go 
 down and look after the trunks," he added. 
 
 "If you would !" she said, and arose quickly. 
 
 His glance responded with sudden passion. She was
 
 72 BLACK F1UDAY 
 
 very near, very dear, very fair to him, and abruptly 
 he took her in his arms. For a moment she lay im- 
 passive, inert; then he released her and stood holding 
 her by the hands. 
 
 "You do look pale," he said. Paler than I thought 
 at first. Are you sure there is nothing you want ?" 
 
 "No," she replied ; "nothing !" 
 
 "Then I'll go and see to things." 
 
 He turned, glanced back at her once, and was gone. 
 The girl walked to the mantel, leaned upon it. The day 
 had been long; the ride on the train, fatiguing. It is 
 true the trip had been accomplished with exceptional 
 celerity; the engineer, under instructions from the mas- 
 ter of Harlem, had opened wide the throttle. But in 
 those days before the consolidation of the Hudson Hirer 
 and New York Central, heavy, solid vestibule trains 
 were unknown, and the tracks were lightly ballasted. In 
 consequence they had dashed on with many a jolt, jostle 
 and bump. 
 
 At times Elinor had held her breat^ : then had put 
 her hands to her ears as a piercing shriek marked their 
 progress. She recalled brief intervals of rest at the 
 stations, followed alas! by more shocks and knocks. 
 
 "Isn't this rather fast ?" she had ventured to ask. 
 
 "I should say so !" Eichard had answered with enthu-
 
 AT GAY SARATOGA 73 
 
 siasm. "Almost forty miles an hour. We'll beat the 
 record to Albany." 
 
 "Beat the record !" The journey seemed designed for 
 that especial purpose. She remembered thinking that 
 she should not have minded going slower ; in a less mod- 
 ern more romantic fashion, perhaps. The golden char- 
 iot, the noisy monster how unlike they were ! In the 
 books honeymoons were full of flowers, sunshine, per- 
 fume ; they two that day had raced madly in a cloud of 
 dust, dirt and cinders ! Slowly, mournfully, the shades 
 of twilight had gradually descended on the world, and 
 the depression of the hour had seemed to lay its finger 
 on her spirits. 
 
 She could feel it now, and, deeply, questioning!}', she 
 looked at herself in the mirror, the while the events of 
 the past few months marshalled themselves in her mind. 
 For some time she stood there without moving, her face 
 very sober and thoughtful. Then suddenly, with an im- 
 patient gesture, she turned away and raised her hands to 
 remove her hat. 
 
 Meanwhile Richard Strong had walked down the hall 
 and was slowly descending the stairway. 
 
 "It is only a little fatigue," he told himself, and, re- 
 pairing to the office, made inquiries about his baggage. 
 
 As he moved across the lower corridor the sound of 
 music caught his ear, and turning, he found himself at
 
 74 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 the entrance of the ball-room. At Saratoga, where dress- 
 ing was an all-absorbing matter to the fair sex. the 
 dance, or the masquerade in the evenings, afforded the 
 supreme opportunity for the display of gowns. The 
 Entre Nous waltz or the Kangaroo gallop found, there- 
 fore, many devotees every evening in the week Sundays 
 excepted while those who preferred something newer 
 became ready victims of the fascinating and alluring 
 "dip." 
 
 It was the "dip" that engrossed the company, as Mr. 
 Strong stood near the doorway. Ladies with bare shoul- 
 ders, dipped; matrons whose arms and necks gleamed 
 with the luster of gems in barbaric profusion, dipped; 
 young girls in the splendor of gowns from the inex- 
 haustible arks, or trunks, they had brought with them, 
 dipped; black-garbed figures, with white gloves and 
 streaming coat tails, each one as like his neighbor as one 
 jumping-jack resembles another, dipped. 
 
 Above the varied faces of the revelers, the graceful and 
 the grotesque figures, Eichard Strong, in imagination, 
 saw one face and form. He regretted now he had 
 brought her there, in the midst of that glittering, pre- 
 tentious throng, and wished he had sought some quieter 
 spot, some more modest retreat, for their honeymoon. 
 But he had thought to please her, and, after all, there 
 were many beautiful walks and drives, the lakes, and the
 
 AT GAY SARATOGA 75 
 
 wayside resorts. One could be in the showy world and 
 yet not of it; beyond the crowd and the hum and "the 
 shock of men" ! 
 
 Conceiving a sudden distaste for the lavish spectacle, 
 he strode back into the hall and out upon the veranda. 
 Here, also, were many people, old and young; well- 
 dressed and over-dressed. Here, also, sounded many 
 voices, engaged in discussing the merits of the waters; 
 the relative speed of this or that horse ; the croquet con- 
 tests and bowling tournaments, or a forthcoming church 
 social, managed by enterprising local women. 
 
 From the streets, metropolitan in their gaiety and 
 life, came the rumbling of carriages and the pattering of 
 hoofs. Laughing boisterously, a merry party from the 
 lake and from a repast of trout and woodcock with an 
 after-dash of famous old rum, drove up in a large ve- 
 hicle. 
 
 "Phew!" cried one of them. "Pishing is expensive 
 around here. Think of a dollar a pound for all you 
 catch out of the private ponds !" 
 
 "Well, it didn't take many dollars to pay for your 
 catch !" retorted another. "You whipped the stream all 
 day and " 
 
 "Let's go into the ball-room ! We're just in time for 
 champagne and birds."
 
 76 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Champagne! Give me some of old Moon's Vera 
 Cruz !" 
 
 Slowly Richard Strong arose, looked at his watch, and, 
 reentering the hotel, sought their rooms. The apart- 
 ment wherein he found himself was deserted; upon the 
 mantel lay her hat, which seemed to him a part of her- 
 self because she had worn it. He noticed her gloves be- 
 side it, and picking them up, regarded them with a 
 smile. They were slightly fragrant; he wondered what 
 perfume it was she used, knowing but little about such 
 matters. Something very sweet and subtle, at any rate ! 
 He touched them to his lips; then stepping to a door, 
 pushed it open gently and looked in. 
 
 The light was low. Was she sleeping ? Her hair with 
 its golden tints outspread in flowing profusion. One 
 hand lay on the pillow. He approached'; stood there 
 how long ? Her eyes were closed ; her breathing regular. 
 
 "Elinor/' he said softly. 
 
 She did not answer. He bent ; dared to take her hand 
 gently. Upon her finger gleamed the ring his ring; 
 the band that bound her to him for ever and ever ! 
 
 "Elinor," he whispered. 
 
 Still silence. He listened; she seemed sleeping like 
 a child a tired child. A moment longer he waited ; 
 then, dropping her hand, he left as quietly as he had 
 entered.
 
 AT GAY SARATOGA 77 
 
 In the dark parlor Kichard Strong seated himself near 
 the open window. A flood of moonlight fell on the floor ; 
 the balmy air stirred the clambering vines about the 
 casement. Like the beating of a pulse, a distant foun- 
 tain tinkled. In the grove many lights gleamed and 
 glowed ; figures in white passed and repassed. The faint 
 sound of merriment below, the snatch of a song, mingled 
 with the distant strains of music from the ball-room. 
 
 He lighted a cigar; smoked it; touched the match 
 to another. He had no definite consciousness ol time; 
 the moments passed; fewer figures were seen below; the 
 voices grew less audible. Only nature's accents became 
 more perceptible; a cooing wood-note; the sound of in- 
 sects ; the rustling of leaves, and, from afar, as from the 
 horizon itself, a droning intonation, as if the earth were 
 all tonality. 
 
 In the solemn peace of that august solitude, the stars., 
 to Kichard Strong, were first very bright, then dim. So 
 they had shone for him often in his boyhood days when 
 at night in the saddle he had followed the cattle on the 
 plains. At times they were a thousand eyes; then closed ; 
 then opened, twinkled, and shut once more. "Boy, you're? 
 asleep in the saddle," his father had said; and he had 
 shaken himself, only ere long to have the same mis- 
 chievous trick played upon him by those roguish eyes; 
 closing, opening; closing, opening! Closing
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE TELEGRAM AND ITS SEQUEL 
 
 A strain from the oboes, a melody from the 
 clarinets, a defiant flourish from the horns, and 
 all the instruments caught up the overture, and 
 the exuberant joyousness of Verdi the early Verdi of 
 our forefathers permeated the pleasure-grounds. As 
 the band began its morning concert the capacious hos- 
 telries gradually emptied themselves of their thousand 
 and one guests. Those who had dipped too assiduously 
 the night before now repaired to the medicinal springs, 
 where the lad with the glass deftly served the scores of 
 comers. Nature, prodigal nature, invited all mankind 
 and womankind to taste of the healing waters, and those 
 who accepted were divided into two classes: the 
 drinkers through conviction and the drinkers through 
 habit. 
 
 "They are bride and groom !" 
 
 The dowagers were beginning their matutinal gossip 
 on the verandas. 
 
 "You read about the Strong-Rossi ter wedding?" 
 78
 
 THE TELEGRAM AND ITS SEQUEL 79 
 
 "Oh, that is Miss Rossiter !" with an accent which 
 might mean much, or nothing. 
 
 "Yes you know they say " 
 
 "Dear me ! How interesting !" 
 
 "And that isn't all" 
 
 Innocently ignorant of the many shafts, sharpened 
 with imputation, that were flying about their heads, 
 Richard Strong and his bride descended the steps. The 
 day was in harmony with the sparkling character of the 
 concert; the fantasia of the band found an echo in the 
 minstrelsy of the birds; the aria from the instruments 
 kept pace with innumerable ariettas from bough and 
 branch. The sunbeams, sifting through the overhanging 
 foliage, made brighter the moving spots of color morn- 
 ing gowns of many hues and parasols of all the tints of 
 the rainbow ! Here and there an exaggerated style of 
 toilet seemed but the more grotesque in the pitiless white 
 light of that perfect day. Gentility running away from 
 vulgarity had in many cases been fairly overtaken. 
 
 From these extremists in fashion's realm Richard 
 Strong's glance turned approvingly to the girl by his 
 side. Her dress, simple and light in color, adorned 
 without detracting from a figure straight as a reed, 
 graceful and untrammeled. Her face still lacked some 
 of its delicate rose-tint a comparative want of color
 
 80 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 that made her eyes look larger, darker, but she held her 
 head with its old air of proud wilfulness. 
 
 To Richard Strong it seemed that all the assemblage 
 must be looking at her and admiring her, and yes, even 
 envying him the possession of so precious, if elusive and 
 mysterious, a holding. He who had sought and won 
 properties, valuable in the standard of weights and 
 measures, with an impassive countenance, now betrayed 
 on his features the consciousness of the new dignities 
 and joys attendant on this latest acquisition. 
 
 "You are not disappointed in Saratoga, Elinor?" he 
 said. 
 
 "There are a good many people," she answered 
 vaguely. 
 
 "That's what makes it Saratoga !" 
 
 They had paused before one of the fashionable shops, 
 a flashing branch establishment of a New York firm. 
 
 "Do you see anything you want?" he continued, fol- 
 lowing her glance. 
 
 "No," she replied quickl} r , turning away. 
 
 "Then you are different from the conventional 
 "bride !" he went on, half-gaily, half-fonclly. "I imag- 
 ined the shops would have a great fascination for you, 
 but you have everything, or do not care for anything 
 you haven't ! If you think it uninteresting or too spec-
 
 THE TELEGEAM AND ITS SEQUEL 81 
 
 tacular here," he added, "we can go somewhere else in 
 a few days. All I want is to please you." 
 
 She raised her eyes without answering, looked at him 
 quickly and then glanced down. 
 
 "What are those children selling?" she asked irrele- 
 vantly. "Bags of confectionery?" 
 
 "N~o ; only the famous fried potatoes of Saratoga I" 
 
 He smiled as he spoke ; then bowed to an acquaintance. 
 There were many California people in that great gather- 
 ing; powerful knights of finance who had wrested their 
 golden spears and hucklers from the earth, and now 
 came, Sir Launcelots for valor, a-tilting against the 
 East. For the good knights' ladies, the well-known spa 
 offered opportunities to win a way into the society of 
 the metropolis itself, and, be it said to the credit of the 
 'fair wives and daughters from the land of the Golden 
 Gate, they were almost as successful in their quest as 
 their lords had been in theirs. 
 
 Richard Strong knew many of these western men and 
 introduced Elinor here and there. 
 
 "My wife Mrs. Strong !" 
 
 He looked more erect, more commanding, as he spoke. 
 
 "You see as many acquaintances on Saratoga's Broad- 
 way as on the real Broadway," he said, when they had re- 
 sumed their walk after a second exchange of the com- 
 pliments of the day.
 
 82 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 But she did not appear to take amiss meeting and 
 speaking with people. On the contrary, it was he, not 
 she, who turned from them first. Once he even said: 
 ''Shall we go on, Elinor?" and she had responded read- 
 ily, when some one of the party, a bluff man from the 
 plains, made a jesting comment that sent the blood to her 
 face. 
 
 As for Richard Strong, he only looked at her and 
 laughed, and breathed deep and long, as inhaling all the 
 happiness of that place. She drew away a little, but he 
 moved nearer, and soon she found herself walking close 
 to him along a narrow path. Behind them lay the gay 
 and busy thoroughfare; before them appeared the hills, 
 vernal with evergreen, and, farther beyond, the moun- 
 tains, clearly outlined upon the background of blue. 
 
 "How beautiful it all is I" As he spoke his gaze, which 
 had been bent upon the distant undulations, returned to 
 her; he glanced down at her hair, her face, her gown 
 bathed with the flickering light; the few flowers at her 
 waist. 
 
 "You mustn't mind Thayer and his little joke," he 
 went on. "He's a blunt sort of fellow; a true west- 
 erner, though, with a big heart and a heavy hand. He's 
 had quite a history, too !" 
 
 And in terse language he described the man and his 
 associates, from which narrative of golden success, re-
 
 THE TELEGRAM AND ITS SEQUEL 83 
 
 markable as an Arabian tale, he was unconsciously led 
 to speak of himself and his own plans and projects, un- 
 bosoming himself as he had never done before. 
 
 Did she hear? Was she listening? This world of his 
 was a new and a strange world to her. Stocks; bonds; 
 railroads ; money ! A little frown had gathered on her 
 brow. 
 
 "It seems odd my speaking to you of all these mat- 
 ters," observed Richard Strong, after a while, not no- 
 ticing her preoccupation. "I have been so accustomed to 
 keeping everything to myself all my life that it has be- 
 come almost second nature not to talk, but to think. 
 When a boy, I was silent, taciturn ; 'sullen,' they called 
 me. 'Richard's mind is a blank,' said my father. Per- 
 haps it was. I wish he were here to see me now," he 
 added suddenly. 
 
 "You were very fond of him?" she asked, arousing 
 herself. 
 
 "We lived in the saddle together; drove the cattle 
 from Texas to Missouri ; when he was shot in the Wilder- 
 ness, as they called one of the bad spots in Arkansas, I 
 buried him with my own hands. It was a boy who knelt 
 by the grave and whispered the prayer his mother had 
 taught him ; it was a man who rode away !" 
 
 "Did you ever find the person that shot him?"
 
 84 BLACK FRIDAT 
 
 From beneath his heavy brow a look, like a spark, 
 flashed to her. 
 
 "Yes," he said simply. 
 
 "I should imagine you would always seek vengeance, 
 if any person wronged you." She regarded him quickly. 
 
 "Vengeance?" he replied. "No." 
 - "Only justice !" she returned. 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 But the gladness of the day soon won him from the 
 thoughtful mood those memories evoked. Around them 
 the leaves scarcely whispered in the thicket, and the hush 
 of a solemn peace pervaded the deeper recesses of the 
 forest. A little brown thrasher, shy and retiring in its 
 habits, flew far away on their approach ; a gray squirrel 
 scampered higher, and, from its lofty perch, barked fear- 
 lessly. 
 
 The sequestered path seemed made but for them, yet 
 other couples had walked' that way doubtless wrapped in 
 a transport of mutual inclination and Eichard Strong, 
 vith a smile, called her attention to sundry hearts and 
 initials crudely carved on tree and sapling, some newly 
 done; a few old, almost obliterated. He even insisted 
 upon stopping and deciphering those amatory efforts of 
 the sighing swains who had preceded them down that 
 redolent forest path, and once, while doing so, his hand
 
 THE TELEGRAM AX I) ITS SEQUEL 85 
 
 upon hers. She laughed nervously and glanced 
 around. 
 
 "See !" she said. 
 
 Through the trees, cradled in the bosom of the hills, 
 they could look upon the shining expanse of a little lake 
 whose placid surface was unmarred by a ripple. 
 
 "Let us go there !" she added, and half-ran down into 
 the glen. His eye lighted as he followed her. 
 
 "Elinor I" he called. 
 
 "El-i-nor ! " came the answering echo. 
 
 Again he called. She seemed surrounded by voices 
 summoning her from every side. With a scream, a water- 
 bird arose from the bushes on the bank and shot out 
 straight as an arrow across the water. 
 
 "Did it surprise you?" he asked, approaching. 
 
 Her expression answered him. The half -startled look 
 had a charm of its own; her cheeks wore the eloquent 
 hue of the rose; her lips were parted from the exercise. 
 He could not take his eyes from her. 
 
 Nearer he came; nearer 
 
 " 'Scuse me, sah ! Am yo' Mistah Strong ?" 
 
 A strange voice broke in upon them, and, turning, 
 Ei chard Strong confronted one of the porters of the 
 hotel. 
 
 "'Scuse me, sah," repeated that person, displaying a 
 formidable array of white teeth, "but I'se been huntin*
 
 86 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 foh yo' ebberywhere, Mistah Strong ! Done thought I 
 might find yo' neah the echo ! Dey always comes heah 
 de fust day!" 
 
 "Well, now that you've found me, what do you want ?" 
 
 "Heah am a telegram for yo', sah ! De clerk told me 
 to find yo', eben if I hab to hunt ober de whole coun- 
 try. Pretty near done dat, sah, already !" 
 
 "How long ago did it come?" 
 
 "Half an hour> sah ! I'se done been huntin' ebber 
 since !" 
 
 Mechanically Eichard Strong took it. The lad still 
 remained, shifting from one foot to the other. 
 
 "Done been huntin' " he began again, when the re- 
 cipient of the message handed him something. With a 
 grin broader than ever the dusky messenger vanished. 
 
 "What can it be?" said Eichard Strong, opening the 
 envelope. "It's in cipher at any rate," he continued, 
 glancing at the missive. "Would you mind going back to 
 the hotel with me, Elinor ?" 
 
 She, too, looked at the telegram and her face changed 
 a little. 
 
 "Oh, no," she answered carelessly. 
 
 "I left my code in the room," he explained. "This 
 may be something important certainly, it's a long mes- 
 sage! I wonder" as they retraced their steps "if it 
 has anything to do with Tim and what he wanted to tell
 
 THE TELEGRAM AXD ITS SEQUEL 87 
 
 me yesterday in front of the church. He seemed ex- 
 cited." 
 
 An indefinable light came into her eyes. 
 
 "Didn't he say something about business?" 
 
 "Yes. But I can not think it a pressing matter. Every- 
 thing seemed in good shape when we left, although" 
 thoughtfully "yesterday, as they say, is ancient history 
 in the Street !" 
 
 Once more in their rooms, after a brief search, he 
 found his code, and, seating himself with the little book 
 and the telegram before a desk, worked silently for some 
 time. Standing near the window Elinor mutely watched 
 him. The sunlight threw a strong glow on his features 
 emphasizing that which was massive and bringing out 
 all the resolute characteristics of a man who had never 
 spared himself or others. It was a hard face when he 
 set himself to a task, she thought ; too hard ! She ob- 
 served how slowly he proceeded, searching for each word 
 carefully, verifying it, and setting down its equivalent 
 neatly with the pencil he held in his hand. His coun- 
 tenance betrayed no emotion; only once or twice he 
 started a little. His mouth grew firmer; his jaw more 
 pronounced; a harshness of expression that now awoke 
 a secret resentment in her breast. 
 
 Abruptly he arose. 
 
 "What is it?" she asked mechanically.
 
 88 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "My absence has been the signal for attack/' he an- 
 answered tersely. 
 
 "What sort of attack ?" 
 
 "A cowardh r , despicable one !" 
 
 Deliberately, heavily, he strode across the room ; stood 
 with his back to her a moment, and then returned. 
 
 "Elinor," he said suddenly, and his voice sounded to 
 her as harsh as his face had looked, "we must leave 
 here P 
 
 "Leave?" She could not conceal a start of surprise. 
 "Where for?" 
 
 "For ^ew York. At once !" 
 
 She regarded him steadily. If she had heard and di- 
 vined all he had said, she heeded not its significance; 
 only his. expressed determination to leave abruptly for 
 home. This fact, without the rhyme or reason for it, be- 
 came paramount in her mind to every other considera- 
 tion. 
 
 "But," she said, rising, her hands clasped nervously, 
 a fine irony in her voice, "for business a matter 01 a 
 few stocks a little money you would give up our 
 wed our trip ?" . 
 
 He made no reply. Looking down at the carpet, mo- 
 tionless, he was considering possible combinations, prob- 
 able moves, and the strategic position his enemies had al- 
 ready taken. He again glanced over the telegram. Had
 
 THE TELEGRAM AND ITS SEQUEL 89 
 
 ho read aright? Yes; even his honor had been attacked. 
 Hints were rife of mismanagement ; of funds improperly 
 applied. 
 
 His silence, his disregard of her, caused her features 
 to harden. In her tense mental mood, every act, ever}' 
 expression, bore an exaggerated significance. Something 
 seemed to rise in her throat and choke her. What she 
 endeavored so hard to hide threatened to overpower her. 
 She yet strove to fight it down. Suddenly he saw her 
 face. 
 
 "Elinor !" he cried. 
 
 "Well?" she said, very white. 
 
 He paused. His mind moved slowly from one object 
 to another. 
 
 "You do not mind ? You " 
 
 "I ? Not in the least," she answered coldly. 
 
 Romance ! business ! the modern prince would turn 
 back with his bride for a little money. 
 
 "It is harder for me than for you to give it up," he 
 said. "You do not know what it has been to me being 
 here with you ! Elinor, darling ! " 
 
 Perhaps it was the strangeness in her eyes, but he 
 caught her suddenly to his breast ; kissed her passionately 
 again and again, as if by physical force he would hold 
 her to him for ever. 
 
 A moment : an eternity ! A terrible weakness ; a ter-
 
 90 BLACK FE1DAY 
 
 rible strength and suddenly she tore herself from him 
 and sank into a chair, her head buried against the arm. 
 Sobs shook her figure. 
 
 "Elinor/' he said. 
 
 Compassion, tenderness, transformed his face. 
 
 "Elinor," he repeated, in pitying wonder. <r What 
 is it?" 
 
 "Oh," she said, "can't you see it is all a mistake we 
 can never understand each other never I do not love 
 you as I should I can't I can't "
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AN INTERRUPTED HONEYMOON 
 
 Richard Strong forgot about the attack on 
 Ms stocks of which he had just learned; he forgot 
 even the covert and scurrilous charges against 
 himself. The telegram, so important a moment 
 before, fell unheeded from his hand. He, who usually 
 knew his ground with a moral certitude and stood on 
 that ground with characteristic positiveness, unexpect- 
 edly found himself adrift, out of his reckoning. Cer- 
 tainly Elinor had prepared for him a great surprise ; the 
 greatest surprise he had ever experienced. At first he 
 doubted the reality of it and looked at her with almost 
 pathetic wonderment, but the sight of her figure, her 
 abandonment, brought the poignant truth home to him. 
 
 "Get at the facts ; the bare, unsentimental facts !" he 
 had always said to his clerks. 
 
 Now he seemed to be saying it to himself as he stood 
 
 there at fault. The bare, unsentimental facts ! He had 
 
 been used to hard blows and hard thrusts all his days, but 
 
 nothing to the pain of this ; he had been accustomed to 
 
 91
 
 92 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 giving as well as taking in the rude buffetings of life, 
 but here suddenly he found himself powerless and un- 
 armed. 
 
 "I do not love you I can not !" 
 
 These were her words. What did they mean? The 
 meaning seemed transparent enough. Yet she was with 
 him here she had not said no to him that night when he 
 had told her of his love. The ceremony had been per- 
 formed yesterday that, too, was real stamped on his 
 heart, ineffaceably ! For Richard Strong, the rite and 
 service was no mere mummery ; no patter of sentences ; 
 no dead and forgotten language, for all observance of 
 its literal purport ! Every passage of the hymeneal bond 
 had been fraught with holy, solemn significance ! He 
 regarded her now almost mechanically. 
 
 "Why," he said, "did you marry me?" 
 
 She did not stir, nor did she reply. After her out- 
 burst, words seemed to fail. She felt confused; incom- 
 prehensible even to herself. 
 
 "When you knew you did not care for me ?" 
 
 "That is it," she said. "If I had known" Her 
 voice died into indefiniteness. 
 
 "And now you know?" 
 
 Again she did not answer and his face darkened; a 
 flash came into his eyes. He touched her arm. 
 
 "Won't you sit up ?"
 
 AN INTEKEUPTED HONEYMOON 93 
 
 His touch and the change in his voice aroused her. 
 It was not a request he uttered, but a command. 
 
 She dashed her hand across her eyes, and raising her 
 head quickly, met his look. 
 
 "Why did you marry me?" 
 
 His glance probed her. It was no longer the lover's 
 gaze, but that of Eichard Strong, the man of affairs, 
 bent upon arriving at the truth the disastrous truth, 
 perhaps but the truth. 
 
 Onee more rebellion stirred within her; his bearing 
 was that of the master; he made her feel like a child. 
 
 "I don't know/' she said defiantly. 
 
 Anger mingled with impatience on his face. He had 
 always known his own mind; he had no understanding 
 of a person who did not know his or hers. And to have 
 entered into such a bargain blindly, or lightly ! He had 
 never in his life assumed an obligation he intended to 
 waive; he had never put his name to a pact, the condi- 
 tions of which he did not mean honestly to fulfil. , 
 
 He laughed now very harshly. "Is that the best an- 
 swer you can make ?" 
 
 For a moment he continued to regard her, his jaw set, 
 his face wearing that expression that earlier had awak- 
 ened her hostile response, then turning abruptly, he 
 walked toward the window. 
 
 His foot touched the telegram he started picked it
 
 94 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 up. His enemies had suddenly become figures of straw ; 
 their onslaught as nothing! Contemptuously he tore 
 the message into little bits and threw them into the 
 waste-basket; then stood near the window with head 
 down-bent and knitted brows. Since she would not an- 
 swer him, he strove, in his straightforward way, to find 
 the answer for himself. 
 
 (Without moving, Elinor watched him, her gaze rery 
 fixed and bright, her whole attitude one of defiance. Sud- 
 idenly she started; his face had changed and its stern 
 pallor smote her. Her eyes fell ; he did care really care. 
 [A revulsion of feeling seemed all at once to overpower 
 her; a sense of shame for herself; the desire to check 
 [the trend of his thoughts ; to retract her words 
 
 [At that moment, he turned and again stood before 
 her. 
 
 "When you smiled at me that day in the window, had 
 anything happened to influence your life?" 
 
 She looked up with uncomprehending eyes, striying 
 |o collect herself. 
 
 "Anything of a practical nature ?" 
 
 He was thinking of Mr. Eossiter's visit to him now; 
 the unsalable southern securities that gentleman had 
 asked him about; Mrs. Rossiter's uncompromising 
 worldliness.
 
 AN XNTEBEUPTED HONEYMOON' 95. 
 
 "Of a practical nature ?" she repeated. "I don't un- 
 derstand." 
 
 All at once the purport of his meaning struck her and 
 the blood rushed to her face ; her eyes dilated. 
 
 "Oh, no !" she cried, "I did not " and stopped. 
 
 "Why, then?" 
 
 Her hands tightened on the arm of the chair ; her color 
 receded. What could she answer? How could she ex- 
 plain ? She felt sure of nothing now save her own abase- 
 ment. 
 
 A moment he waited, then turned away. What mat- 
 tered it, after all, why? His pride stopped at further 
 investigation. She had said their marriage was a mis- 
 take ; that she did not care for him, he thought bitterly. 
 That should suffice. When he spoke again his voice was 
 businesslike. 
 
 "Do you need any one to help you with your packing ?" 
 
 She made no sign that she heard him and he went to 
 the bell-rope ; pulled it. The same colored lad that had 
 brought him the telegram appeared in response to the 
 summons. 
 
 "Send up my bill at once; have my trunks taken to 
 the depot; call in ten minutes for several telegrams I 
 wish to send." 
 
 "Yes, sah ; thank yo', sah !" 
 
 The door closed ; he turned to his desk and began writ-
 
 96 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 ing rapidly ; one message to Tim Taplin, apprising that 
 person of his coming, another to his lawyer, a third to a 
 certain broker, his face becoming more savagely aggres- 
 sive as he proceeded. 
 
 At least his opponents would not look for his return. 
 They had probably reasoned no bridegroom was apt 
 lightly to tear himself from his bride on the second day 
 of the honeymoon to engage in a battle of prices; but 
 they had overlooked the weight of the personal imputa- 
 tions, which had really first moved Richard Strong to 
 that radical determination. 
 
 Mechanically and with a white face, Elinor set about 
 the work of packing. There was little to be done ; only 
 one or two of the dresses had been removed from the 
 trunks. Those more elaborate creations in laces and 
 draperies over which Posie Stanton had raved and ex- 
 claimed, and which Mrs. Rossiter had tenderly deposited 
 in their respective trays with proud satisfaction and fond 
 anticipations of the appearance her daughter would 
 make at fashionable Saratoga, were doomed not to see 
 the light of day at that brilliant summer resort. She 
 had but performed this task; replaced the trays and 
 closed and locked her trunks when a knocking at the 
 door brought a waiter with a bill. 
 
 Mr. Strong took the account and handed the man the 
 messages he had written.
 
 AN INTERRUPTED HONEYMOON 97 
 
 "Send these immediately. They are important. You 
 have a telegraph office in the hotel?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "And call a carriage in" he consulted a time-table 
 "half an hour." 
 
 The man departed; Richard Strong's glance rested 
 coldly on his wife. 
 
 "Are }'ou ready ?" he said. 
 
 "Yes/' she answered in a low tone. 
 
 "Well," he went on, "have you thought it all out 
 what is best to be done ?" 
 
 "No-o," she answered. "That is of course I shall go 
 home." 
 
 He sprang to his feet. An intense emotion shone from 
 his eyes; his hands clenched. 
 
 "Of course you will not go home !" 
 
 "But" 
 
 "That much you owe to me. I do not believe ir: 
 lightly wed, lightly separated. Neither do I care for the 
 stigma of a separation." 
 
 "Can you not see," she returned calmly, but with an 
 effort, "it is impossible for me to remain to accept any- 
 thing from you, after " 
 
 "You should have thought about that before you made 
 it imperative for you to do so."
 
 98 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 Her calmness forsook her. "I can't; I can't!" she 
 cried passionately. 
 
 "Unfortunately you have no choice." 
 
 "You are cruel unreasonable !" she exclaimed, 
 straightening herself. "It is impossible! What you 
 ask" 
 
 Her words acted upon him like a spark; in spite of 
 herself she shrank from the anger, the almost ungovern- 
 able passion with which he regarded her. He took a step 
 forward. 
 
 "Cruel! You!" 
 
 Her head sank into her hands. He stopped ; checked 
 the words that had been about to spring from his lips. 
 
 "There is no need for any heroics or hysterics," he 
 said in measured tones. "I do not ask ; I demand ! It is 
 my right. Have you any further objections to advance ?" 
 
 She did not raise her head or reply, and after a mo- 
 ment he added : "This subject, then, is closed between 
 us." 
 
 Half an hour later, the loungers in the lobby observed 
 Mr. and Mrs. Strong coming down from their rooms, 
 followed by the porters with bags, satchels and other 
 hand luggage. The bumping and thumping of the great 
 trunks that had preceded their appearance had apprised 
 those in the neighborhood of the office of the forthcoming 
 departure of the bridal couple. At the front door of the
 
 AN INTERRUPTED HONEYMOON 99 
 
 hotel the proprietor himself stood with cordial and ex- 
 pansive mien, as befitted the speeding of guests so sol- 
 vent in the world's goods. 
 "What do you think of that ?" 
 
 The veranda dowagers were watching the couple enter 
 their carriage. 
 
 "Some one told me it was on account of business." 
 "And only the second day of their wedding trip !" 
 "She looked to me as if she had been crying about it I" 
 "What bride wouldn't to be packed off home " 
 Slam ! the carriage door shut. A crack of the whip - 
 Elinor's honeymoon had come to an end.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE RETURN OF RICHARD STRONG 
 
 It was a period of wondrous awakening; the renais- 
 sance of America. The dark days of a house divided 
 against itself had been succeeded by the new birth. 
 The reconstruction of the Union, and the restoration 
 of the states, lately in rebellion, to their political rights, 
 had imparted the healing touch to old industries and a 
 strong incentive for new ones. A wholesome rejuvenes- 
 cence swept over the land. The reunited states awoke to 
 the railroad age; a glorious, golden period, when many 
 master minds sang their verses in humming wheels. 
 
 In solving the problems of transportation, forcing the 
 Juggernaut to harness, and fastening to the iron deity 
 an imposing train of full-laden cars, the development 
 and sturdy growth of all sections of the' land began. The 
 American seer, looking at Progress, discovered it con- 
 sisted of the activity of to-day, combined with the assur- 
 ance of to-morrow. Of activity there could be no lack ; 
 eye, hand, and brain had ever been ready. Of assurance, 
 or faith, that inspiring handmaiden of industry, no one 
 100
 
 TILE RETURN OF KICHARD STRONG 101 
 
 was heard to lament her absence. Clear-headed, a ro- 
 bust nymph, she urged her servitors to new endeavors. 
 
 "Till! till! Dig! dig!" she said, and the race of 
 men, like ants, obeyed her behests. Everywhere the obe- 
 dient monsters of burden puffed and whistled, and 
 proudly whisked behind them their long and flowing ap- 
 pendages. 
 
 Being literally a golden age not in the Arcadian 
 sense of "love in idleness," the sound of pipes, and the 
 bleating or be-ribboned lambs it was necessarily a pe- 
 riod of combinations and consolidation. But where 
 there are builders, wreckers, also, are found. The gentle 
 art of destroying values became a nice game of chance; 
 whenever the horn of plenty grew too full the temptation 
 to pillage was irresistible. Thus roads were created, 
 wrecked, and re-created a merry hazard! The lambs 
 were not be-ribboned, as in the golden days of yore. In 
 this fortuitous period Chloe would not have recognized 
 her pretty pets, for nature's soft adornment was ruth- 
 lessly shorn from them, and man turned them over 
 to Providence to temper the wind to their plight. 
 
 Richard Strong belonged uncompromisingly to the 
 builders ; he had rather discouraged than encouraged un- 
 due inflation; he preferred an equitable, not an over- 
 issue, of bonds, and assumed obligations based upon the 
 actual earning powers of the properties. But he could
 
 102 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 not control the coterie of temerarious spirits who tempted 
 fortune and the public in a blind bargain with spectacu- 
 lar changes. In fact, he paid little attention to the sport- 
 ive operations of the various cliques, unless the onslaught 
 became too fierce, and actual disaster was feared, when 
 of necessity he became a participant in the game. 
 
 Upon their arrival at New York after another dusty 
 trip on the commodore's famous Hudson Eiver railroad, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Strong repaired to the Fifth Avenue 
 Hotel. That hostelry was then the scene of all up-town 
 speculations ; its corridors as much a part of Wall Street 
 as the convenient steps of the Subtreasury. At the cor- 
 ner of Fifth Avenue and Twenty-third Street crowds 
 might now be seen, despite the hour, attracted by a blood- 
 red transparency, announcing a petroleum board that 
 evening, and the opportunities of dealing in railway and 
 petroleum stocks in gold. Eichard Strong, from 
 the carriage, noted the unwonted activity, and sur- 
 mised that some of his own properties were not the least 
 among those being traded in on the curb at that unhal- 
 lowed time for' business. Elinor, however, glanced in- 
 differently at the spectacle. What was there in railroads 
 or oil to warrant that feverish earnestness? The world 
 to her appeared all topsyturvy. 
 
 At the hotel Mr. and Mrs. Eossiter and Tim Taplin 
 were in waiting.
 
 THE RETUKN OF KICHAKD STRONG 103 
 
 "My dear ! What a disappointment !" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Kossiter, clasping the girl in her arms. "To be called 
 back from your honeymoon ! It must have been impor- 
 tant business, Mr. Strong." 
 
 "It was, Madam," replied that gentleman. "And that 
 same business makes it necessary for me to go out now." 
 
 Whereupon, leaving his wife to make such explana- 
 tions as she saw fit, Mr. Strong took his departure. 
 
 "Now," he said to Tim Tap! in as the vehicle in which 
 they found themselves shortly afterward sped down 
 Broadway at a brisk pace, "what is it all about?" 
 
 "I don't know what the text is," answered the other, 
 "but Uncle Sam'l got it out of the Bible." 
 
 And he briefly related the episode at the church and 
 the circumstances growing out of it. All day the Street 
 had been black with dark imaginings and forebodings af- 
 fecting the general list of securities; the unfavorable 
 state of the crops, manufacturing and trade; the insuffi- 
 cient earnings of transportation companies; the unsatis- 
 factory course of imports and exports ; the disappointing 
 movements of the precious metals, and the cheerless con- 
 ditions of the London and the continental markets. 
 
 Amid a turbid atmosphere of sophistry, speciousness 
 and mystification, one special stock had been selected for 
 bombardment and storming the D. B. and C. Eailroad,
 
 104 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 a property recently acquired and now controlled and 
 managed by Eichard Strong. That person listened grimly 
 to the alleged head and front of his offending. The cash 
 value of his new railroad, said detraction, was less than 
 twenty-five per cent, of the stocks and bonds issued 
 against the property; the first mortgage more than 
 doubled the legitimate cost of building, and the construc- 
 tion company, of which Eichard Strong was president, 
 had "milked" the property of all its profits, leaving the 
 army of robbed stock-holders to face a disastrous future. 
 
 "Is that all?" quietly asked the listener, when Tim 
 finally paused. 
 
 "That's all," said the other, sadly. "Except consider- 
 able liquidation has begun in D. B. and C." 
 
 "Liquidation !" returned Eichard Strong. "A short 
 interest, you mean." 
 
 "Yes, sir. But here we are, sir. You wait a moment, 
 Mr. Strong, and I'll light up the hall and the offices. 
 Then you won't stumble, sir." 
 
 "Xever mind the light in the hall. I know my way. 
 You remain here," he continued to the driver, as the 
 man, dismounting, swung open the door of the carriage. 
 And following Tim Taplin through the doorway of the 
 office building Eichard Strong disappeared into the dark 
 corridor beyond. 
 
 The man on the box waited; then he climbed down
 
 THE RETURN OF RICHARD STEONG 105 
 
 again and waited. Finally, after what seemed an in- 
 terminable period, he lighted a cigar and moved impa- 
 tiently to and fro. He had looked for a short fare and 
 chanced upon a long one. He yawned and smoked, and 
 glanced from time to time at the light in a window. The 
 clock in the distant steeple struck two. 
 
 "I guess I'll have time to drop around the corner for 
 a quick bite," thought the man, and suited the action to 
 the word, leaving the horses standing with downcast 
 heads, as a guaranty of good faith and his near presence 
 in the neighborhood. 
 
 Meanwhile, unmindful of the hour, Richard Strong 
 had been working with characteristic concentration. 
 Letters, instructions, orders, were tersely dictated. Tim, 
 an automaton of precision, wrote and wrote, wondering 
 what his sister would think of his long absence, whether 
 she would attribute it to an unwonted outbreak of invol- 
 untary jollification, the tempting allurement of a music 
 hall, or some dire catastrophe perpetrated by daring foot- 
 pads, when 
 
 "That will do," said Mr. Strong, rising. He reached 
 for his hat and cane. "Deliver the instructions to the 
 brokers personally," he added, "and be sure and be down 
 early." 
 
 "Couldn't be down much earlier, sir," said Taplin.
 
 106 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 a long ways to where I live, and so" glancing at 
 the lounge "I might as well stay here. Then I'll be 
 sure not to oversleep myself that is, if you will be so 
 good as to send the driver with this note to my sister, 
 telling her where I am. He can just push it under the 
 front door, if you please, sir !" 
 
 "Very well," said Mr. Strong, taking the note ; "good 
 night." He strode down stairs, out into the hall, and 
 thence to the street. 
 
 The thoroughfare was deserted ; as still and quiet and 
 isolated from throbbing humanity as if it were no longer 
 the great artery of finance the mart, the exchange, the 
 bourse of the New World but had relapsed to that pe- 
 riod' when a tangle of underbrush marked its course 
 and a palisade of posts and rails was its most conspicuous 
 feature. Tim's emplo} r er promptly refused to tarry for 
 the master of the hack as that worthy had tarried for 
 him, and turning he quickly walked down the street. As 
 he proceeded, however, his pace involuntarily lagged. 
 Now that the business of the night was over and the ab- 
 sorbing zest of the hour had passed, a heaviness of spirit 
 assailed him. 
 
 For the first time in all his experience, the unreality 
 of the struggle called life, smote him. What did it all 
 mean? Whence did it tend? He would have sworn to 
 positiveness of a seeming fact yesterday; to-day it was 
 non-existent. It had been unsubstantial ; the figment of
 
 THE RETURX OF RICHARD STROXU 107 
 
 a dream ! He, Richard Strong, a dreamer ! Looking 
 up, from that narrow street the stars now seemed to him 
 very far ! Were they chimerical, too ? He dropped his 
 head toward the ground ; he listened to his echoing foot- 
 steps as if his shadow were walking on the other side of 
 the street! His shadow; his second-self? Would it go 
 tramping along by his side for ever ; reminding him that 
 he, too, was but a phantom briefly passing through some 
 mysterious intermedium, a transitional strife? 
 
 He was aroused by the sound of a vehicle rapidly ap- 
 proaching from behind. Urged by the whip of the driver 
 the equipage drew quickly near, when the horses were 
 pulled up with no gentle hand, and the carriage stopped 
 in front of Richard Strong just as he was turning into 
 Broadway. 
 
 "Sorry, sir," began the driver, "but I thought I'd have 
 time just to step " 
 
 "Never mind," returned Mr. Strong, interrupting this 
 explanation, as he entered the hack. "Drive back to the 
 hotel !" 
 
 Lower Broadway, that erstwhile bustling part of the 
 stirring thoroughfare, was as abandoned as Wall Street 
 had been, but along the upper regions of that highway 
 signs of life and activity were still not wanting. The 
 city was socially in a transitional condition ; the provin- 
 cial chrysalis had slowly worked out of its tough, fibrous 
 cocoon, and the cosmopolitan butterfly had begun to
 
 108 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 spread its wings. Bachelors now began to live Paris- 
 fashion, renting furnished rooms and eating at the 
 restaurants. Bohemia flourished; in the small hours the 
 Circean cup went round; conviviality and good fellow- 
 ship threw its roseate hues over deep potations. 
 
 The occupant of the carriage, soothed by the sound of 
 the wheels and sheer weariness, had sunk into a half- 
 slumber on the cushions, and drove by the chosen resorts 
 of the elect, oblivious of the strains of music wafted from 
 within, of the spectacle of a bibulous Damon and Pyth- 
 ias holding amicable converse beneath a flickering street 
 lamp. He was recalled to himself by the abrupt stopping 
 of the vehicle and the voice of the driver: "All right, 
 sir ! Here you are !" 
 
 Eichard Strong paid the man, sought his rooms, and 
 soon the half-slumber was succeeded by that brief ob- 
 livion with which sleep temporizes with care. 
 
 The next morning, returning from the breakfast-room 
 to his apartments after a hurried and scanty repast, dur- 
 ing which he had but hastily glanced over the news col- 
 umns of Mr. Greeley's paper, and even ignored that 
 great man's editorial for the day, he encountered his 
 wife. Though she held' herself proudly, her manner was 
 constrained; when he spoke to her her color deepened. 
 
 "We shall be obliged to stay here a few days until the 
 house is ready/' he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The 
 decorators had not planned upon our being back so
 
 THE RETURX OF RICHARD STRONG 109 
 
 soon." And then as he turned to leave "I shall not 
 be back to the hotel until night," he added. 
 
 After he had gone, Elinor, still with heightened color, 
 made a pretense of adjusting a flower in her hair. For 
 a few moments she went on with her task, but the flower 
 apparently did not suit her and she ended by tossing it 
 aside. Then she went to the window and stood there 
 tapping the floor with her foot. She saw Richard Strong 
 emerge from the hotel, cross the walk and pavement and 
 enter a street-car without looking back. She followed 
 the car with her glance as it joined the down-flowing 
 stream of vehicles, until an intervening building hid it 
 from sight. Even when it had disappeared, she continued 
 to look upon that busy world from that busy corner. 
 
 At nine o'clock Richard Strong was in sight of his of- 
 fice. As he walked along the street upon which the build- 
 ing stood, sundry signs of a coming storm loomed on the 
 horizon of the narrow way. Several Hebrews from the 
 wholesale clothing district had wandered out of the 
 beaten path of commerce and found themselves on the 
 enticing thoroughfare of speculation. They appeared 
 nervous, anxious, keen-scented. The anticipation of 
 quick profits that would discount all ordinary buying and 
 selling of merchandise shone from their features. 
 
 A number of the Christian gentry who emulated their 
 Tpraelitish brethren were also there; men who on other 
 days quietly figured their interest, simple and compound,
 
 110 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 (discreetly foreclosed their mortgages, and eschewed prac- 
 tices demoralizing to peace of mind and conscience. 
 Shambling along, just in front of Eichard Strong, was 
 a thin man, with a parchment-like skin and the com- 
 plexion of an anchorite. "Occasional Jonas," he was 
 called; a person who was very seldom seen upon the 
 Street, and then only when the frowns of fortune laid 
 bane and blight upon business. A hunter of values, 
 with beady eyes, he had come to be regarded as a fore- 
 runner of disaster; a ghoul that walked among the 
 wounded on the financial battle-field, alert for spoils 
 and booty. Mr. Strong smiled grimly. 
 
 "Good morning, Jonas," he said, overtaking him. 
 "Looking around for a little plunder ?" 
 
 The man started. "No" he said slowly. "I'm get- 
 ting too old for that. I just came down for for " 
 
 "A matter of habit !" interrupted the other, regarding 
 him gloomily from beneath his heavy brows. "Get all 
 you can, Jonas." 
 
 And Eichard Strong strode on. The old man looked 
 after him; the beady eyes shone; the thin mouth closed, 
 then Occasional Jonas turned and shambled the other 
 way. In front of the church he hesitated, again looked 
 back, but finally went on up-town. 
 
 "The lion is unchained," he quoted to himself and 
 chuckled.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A FLUTTER IN VALUES 
 
 Could the picture of Jacob Little above Richard 
 Strong's desk have descended from its frame 
 that morning and stridden forth in the flesh, un- 
 doubtedly that speculator of the Street would have rub- 
 bed his thin hands in delight. As it was, his eyes ap- 
 peared to glow in portraiture and his features to sharpen 
 with zest. "Here's excitement! here's life!" the little 
 man seemed to say, as if he were not alas ! only an 
 inky semblance of a mortal, but the real Jacob who could 
 "paper his office with notes he had forgiven the members 
 of the Board." 
 
 And truly the scene at the Stock Exchange was in- 
 spiring enough to draw to the temple of finance all Ten- 
 nie Claflin's band of ghostly, wagering veterans, the 
 spirits of those first Wall Street gamesters who met and 
 organized beneath the shadow of the buttonwood tree ; or 
 the venturesome "long-or-short" gentlemen of the Board 
 who held forth betimes in the offices of the old Courier 
 and Journal! The great money temple, itself, had not 
 111
 
 112 BLACK FK1DAY 
 
 long been built, and represented the evolution of the an- 
 cient Tontine Coffee-house, the bourse of the early 
 fathers. 
 
 Like Solomon's temple, the foundations were on the 
 rock. It also had several entrances, after the fashion of 
 that ancient proud edifice, but no Gate Beautiful. A 
 soft religious light, however, pervaded its interior. Nor 
 was the odor of incense wanting ; a ventilating apparatus 
 took the place of swinging censers and supplied pure air 
 and perfumes for the devotees. There stood not one altar, 
 but many, each of which served a specific purpose and 
 was surrounded by certain of the elect. 
 
 The edifice was crowded. From Broad, New and 
 Wall Streets the people came and went, swarming in and 
 out the main and back entrances, and thronging about 
 the Wall Street door. Upon the floor of the Temple, no 
 place had been arbitrarily fixed for Jews and Gentiles; 
 they brushed against one another, brethren in the ritual 
 of fortune. The service was neither Judaical nor Chris- 
 tian, but partook of a sensational fanaticism, like that 
 of a barbaric religious feast of old. Only these modern 
 worshipers did not cut and hack their faces or breasts, 
 but one another's fortunes. 
 
 "I wonder what spring Strong is drinking from now ?" 
 laughed one of the devotees after an unusually animated
 
 A FLUTTEK IN VALUES 113 
 
 exhibition about the altar especially set apart for that 
 gentleman's securities. 
 
 "It may be a s-s-spring at Saratoga, but it's a d-d-del- 
 uge for D. B. and C. at home/' said the gentle, scoffing 
 voice of the person addressed. 
 
 "Oh, it is, is it?" thought Tim Taplin, who was hur- 
 rying by at that moment, all ears and eyes. "What 
 would you say if you knew he was right here in New 
 York?" 
 
 And Tim glanced' knowingly at the speakers; then 
 wriggled himself out of the multitude. Hubbub and 
 racket followed him ; a babel of voices, shrill, clamorous, 
 stentorian ! For a moment he stood on the verge of the 
 tumult, and then plunged into the street and the bright 
 sunshine. 
 
 As he turned away his ears vibrated to the din, but 
 such is habit he soon forgot the discord and riotous 
 spectacle, and, before he reached the office, had begun to 
 hum the latest parody on the Italian opera : 
 
 "When other lips and other duns 
 
 Their tale of woe shall tell, 
 Of notes in bank, without the funds, 
 And cotton hard to sell 
 
 "Hard to sell !" he repeated. "Bless you, everybody is 
 selling to-day !" 
 
 It was not much more than a stone's throw to the of-
 
 114 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 fice, yet on the way he was stopped twice by the profes- 
 sional tipsters. These gentlemen, in common with the 
 public, were out in unusual numbers; their appearance 
 varied from the neatly-dressed, sharp-eyed touter to 
 the reduced codger who exploited his advice and ex- 
 pounded his wisdom in some subterranean saloon ! All 
 were double-loaded with knowledge; primed from the 
 fountain-head. Some great man had "tipped them the 
 wink" and they were but passing it on. 
 
 When they stopped Tim Taplin, they were searching 
 for another mythical wink. Tim represented Richard 
 Strong; he was that gentleman's wink in proxy. But 
 Taplin waved them imperiously aside; he had certain 
 well-fixed ideas about what was due his own dignity, and 
 believed in holding these eavesdroppers and professional 
 mouthpieces at a safe and reasonable distance. Richard 
 Strong's chief clerk was a man of importance some- 
 times. 
 
 The gesture, nevertheless, was sufficient unto itself for 
 the eager newsmongers. They interpreted it in the light 
 of their vivid imaginations and were prepared to breathe 
 what they had learned ( ?) in mysterious whispers and 
 vague innuendos. From the significant movement of 
 Tim's arm to the lurid reports that soon were going the 
 round of the circle, represented a flight of fancy calcula- 
 ted to make the most inventive poet or fertile writer of
 
 A FLUTTER IN VALUES 115 
 
 romances turn green with envy. They had Eichard 
 Strong dead 1 and alive; in Saratoga and New York; 
 buying and selling; long and short; short and long to 
 all of which they found ready and willing listeners ! 
 
 As Tim presented himself before his employer, that 
 gentleman looked up from his desk and his papers. 
 
 "D. B. and C. is three points lower, sir,'' said the clerk, 
 half-mournfully. 
 
 Mr. Strong thought a moment and then handed Tim. 
 peveral slips of paper. 
 
 "Caution the brokers to buy very dfscreetly," he said, 
 "and only at the figures given." 
 
 "The worst was at the opening, sir/' 
 
 "Let the auditors have access to every book," offering 
 no response to Mr. Taplin's comment. "All the vouch- 
 ers ; the expense accounts ; everything pertaining to the 
 construction company! If there is anything they don't 
 understand in D. B. and C. send' them to me." 
 
 "They have three men at it now, sir, and" with a 
 certain clerical pride "so far, have found all the books 
 and accounts in ship-shape order." 
 
 Eichard Strong was about to take the public unre- 
 servedly into his confidence. He had determined that 
 the report of an auditing firm of unquestioned reliability 
 and standing should constitute his answer to the charges 
 preferred of gross irregularities and pillaging in the af-
 
 11 G BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 fairs of D. B. and C. Meanwhile he made no plea; 
 silence was stronger than a defense not fully fortified 
 with facts and figures. 
 
 "The rest of the list holds up?" he asked. 
 
 "About where it was, sir/' said Tim, as he left the 
 room to carry out the orders he had received. 
 
 His employer returned to his work. He was consid- 
 ering with close attention such information as he had 
 obtained of the bank situation and the probable position 
 of that prop of all values money when a soft mas- 
 culine voice, just" without, caused him to glance toward 
 the door. The head clerk, in going out, had left it 
 slightly ajar. Richard Strong arose and moved toward 1 
 the threshold, intending to close the door. Then he 
 stopped; something in the voice made him pause. 
 Where had he heard it before? 
 
 "Mr. Strong has returned home, you say ? I must see 
 him at once." 
 
 "Is it so very important, sir?" returned one of the 
 clerks, doubtingly. 
 
 "Very important, my good man !" 
 
 Now the listener remembered and placed the unruffled 
 tones. Straightway consideration of possible bank re- 
 serves and losses vanished from his mind. 
 
 "Mr. Strong left word " again began the clerk, in 
 mild expostulation.
 
 A FLUTTER IX VALUES 117 
 
 "But that would not apply to me! I'll walk right in." 
 
 And suiting the action to the word, a gentleman in 
 black entered the private office. With his round face 
 wreathed in a smile, he came to a sudden stop upon en- 
 countering Eichard Strong near the door, but in a mo- 
 ment recovered himself. 
 
 "My dear Mr. Strong! This is an unexpected plea- 
 sure." 
 
 The powerful hand of the other closed mechanically 
 upon the soft one of his caller. Did he grip it half- 
 savagely ? The Eeverend Doctor Clement winced, but in 
 a moment the smiles returned. The rector of Mrs. Rossi- 
 ter's church was nothing if not debonair. He did not 
 believe that a Christian should of necessity be a hypo- 
 chondriac. If he was pacific and palliative in the pulpit, 
 he became blithe and buoyant away from it. His was the 
 allegresse of the ecclesiastical essence; with a cheering 
 chirp for the ladies and a playful pat for the men! 
 
 "Ah, you men of affairs !" he now said briskly to Rich- 
 ard Strong. "You haven't even time for a honeymoon !" 
 Mr. Strong's face remained impassive. "But day before 
 yesterday you were paying homage before the hymeneal 
 altar, and to-day you are worshiping the Golden Calf. 
 Ha-ha ! You see I am talking to you as if you were al- 
 ready one of my parishioners. We hope to claim you 
 soon, however, through your wife, who has long been one
 
 118 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 of our members. By the b}', what church do you belong 
 to, Mr. Strong?" 
 
 "I contribute toward the support of Mr. Beecher's 
 Tabernacle/' answered that gentleman, briefly. 
 
 The Reverend Doctor Clement coughed. His expres- 
 sion was not exactly one of disparagement or disap- 
 proval ; it was vague, uncertain, not susceptible of analy- 
 sis; the attitude of conservatism toward those churches 
 without the exact boundaries of a single creed. 
 
 "It is true we are a small congregation," he continued, 
 "but a very cozy one. However, my call is not pastoral 
 or ministerial, but, I fear, of a mundane nature." 
 
 "How can I serve you, sir ?" asked the other. 
 
 "You are the president of the D. B. and C. railroad, 
 Mr. Strong. I dropped in to learn about you and a little 
 stock that I hold a very little ! In' answer to my in- 
 quiry when you would return, your clerk informed me 
 you were already here. Under the circumstances, would 
 you advise me to sell, or buy, or, in the vernacular of the 
 Street, 'to stand pat'?" The gaiety of his manner was 
 succeeded by momentary earnestness; a trace of worry 
 or anxiety peeped out of his eyes. "There are some sad 
 rumors going around about it," he said, shaking his 
 head. "Sad rumors !" 
 
 "Do you believe them ?" asked Richard Strong, blunt- 
 ly. 
 
 The caller colored a little. "It is not for me to believe
 
 A FLUTTER IX VALUES 119 
 
 or disbelieve/' he replied. "You have your own code of 
 what shall I call it ? ethics, on the Street.*' 
 
 "Then you believe them," said the other. 
 
 A look of real distress appeared on the Reverend Mr. 
 Clement's face. "My dear Mr. Strong!" he exclaimed, 
 and placed an expostulatory hand soothingly on his com- 
 panion's shoulder. 
 
 "I do not see how I can help you very much, Doctor 
 Clement," returned Richard Strong, shortly. "If you 
 credit what you hear, the stock is a sale. If all that they 
 say be true, it is not worth the present quotations." 
 
 That this answer was not as definite as the caller had 
 hoped for was evident from the expression on his counte- 
 nance. But Doctor Clement prided himself on being an 
 astute observer of men and motives and gradually the 
 perplexity in his eyes gave way to a gleam of enlighten- 
 ment. 
 
 "Thanks ; thanks very much !" said the reverend gen- 
 tleman, and, pressing the hand of the other warmly once 
 more, he turned to go. At the door his face recovered its 
 liveliness. 
 
 "Don't forget," he exclaimed, "we expect Mrs. Strong 
 to draw you into our little circle !" 
 
 Richard Strong gazed out of the window when his 
 caller had departed. "He took what I said to mean it
 
 120 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 would be better to dispose of his stock/' he thought, and 
 his brow grew darker as he looked down the street. 
 
 At that moment, it chanced that two men, who were 
 passing on the other side, glanced up of one accord and 
 saw him standing there. 
 
 "Thunder !" exclaimed the younger of the two. 
 "Richard Strong has come back !" 
 
 The elder man became a trifle more yellow; he was 
 wiping his glasses nervously. 
 
 "Are you sure, Jim, that was Strong ?" 
 
 "Aren't you ?" was the reply. "Why, your glasses fell 
 off your nose from the start he gave you. He must have 
 noticed you, too," added' Fisk, "for his face wore an ex- 
 pression the reverse of heavenly." 
 
 By that time Uncle Sam'l had readjusted his glasses. 
 
 "I hadn't looked for him this morning in fact, to- 
 day " he began nervously. 
 
 "And now he's here you begin to wonder if he will 
 send you where the woodbine twineth !" laughed the 
 other. 
 
 Brewster's eyes gleamed with sudden anger and suspi- 
 cion. 
 
 "Are you going to change your coat?" he said, fixing 
 his ferret eyes on his companion. 
 
 "Not unless I find myself an ass in a lion's skin," 
 lightly commented the other, as they moved on.
 
 A FLUTTER IX VALUES 121 
 
 Preoccupied though he was, Richard Strong had, in- 
 deed, seen his old enemy, and regarded him steadily for 
 a moment before returning to his desk. 
 
 In the interim of waiting for developments on 
 'Change, he fixed his attention upon other matters : a 
 proposition in mining ; the prospectus of an oil company 
 in the early throes of organization. The first he dropped 
 in a waste-paper basket; the other he filed in one of the 
 numerous pigeon-holes of his desk, after which he began 
 opening his neglected mail, sorting out the wheat from 
 the chaff. The latter followed the mining proposition; 
 the former was spread out mechanically and placed at 
 his right hand. Although he had been away only two 
 days, his letters had accumulated until the reading and 
 answering of them became a formidable task. Many 
 were from alarmed bond-holders or people who carried 
 stock: these he placed in a little bundle by themselves, 
 and, reaching for the bell, touched it. 
 
 "Answer these letters," he said, when the chief clerk 
 had responded to the summons. "These persons must re- 
 ceive copies of the reports now being made." 
 
 Tim silently took the parcel. Still he lingered. Mr. 
 Strong glanced at him sharply. 
 
 "There's a young gentleman outside who would like to 
 speak with you, sir," said the clerk, hesitatingly.
 
 122 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 An expression of annoyance shone from the other's 
 eyes. 
 
 "I told him you were very busy," went on Taplin, 
 hastily, "but he insisted upon my taking in his card, and 
 here it is, sir !" 
 
 "Mr. Charles Dalton," read Richard Strong, surveying 
 the bit of pasteboard. 
 
 For some time he continued to regard it. Tim folded 
 his arms, a mild intimation that even clerical patience 
 has its limits. What had come over his employer that 
 he should thus ponder over so small a matter ? The caller 
 might have been received and dismissed in half the time 
 already consumed in considering whether he should be 
 admitted or not. The clerk shook his head. He had al- 
 ways been a persistent, if not deep, observer of the man 
 he served, and was now convinced something was wrong 
 something beyond stocks ! 
 
 "What shall I say to the gentleman?" he finally ven- 
 tured. 
 
 Mr. Strong started, and threw the card, with an im- 
 patient gesture, upon the table. 
 
 "I can not see him now."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 CHARLIE ENDEAVORS TO NEGOTIATE AN IDEA 
 
 At noon the commotion subsided somewhat in the 
 money temple. For the moment many of the 
 participants dropped, as it were, the apple of dis- 
 cord and the bone of contention and turned to the 
 real viands of the Astor House or the numerous side- 
 street restaurants. Here quick lunches and slow lunches 
 were served by the colored waiters, and between sips 
 and bites the diners figuratively surveyed their "paper 
 profits" ; chimerical clouds of gold and silver floating in 
 an azure dome ! 
 
 It was but a brief breathing spell; a period when 
 fancy gave to airy nothing a local habitation and a 
 name. The traffickers walked on air, and ate without 
 palpable relish. As in the case of smokers of hashish, 
 the reins of the imagination were loosened', and the 
 chariot of fancy drove headlong through fantastical 
 realms. 
 
 "D. B. and C.'ll go down to eighty !" 
 
 "Say seventy! You can get it back at seventy!" 
 123
 
 124 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "That means quarter of a million and a mansion at 
 Long Branch !" 
 
 "I shouldn't be surprised to see it break sixty !" 
 
 From the western country m'cliaclias the cafes of 
 the money-rhapsodists these dreamers, however, soon 
 wended their way once more to the temple, where Real- 
 ity, a turbaned sheik that wakes the smokers, would 
 shortly grip them by the shoulder. There the turmoil 
 became louder. 
 
 "Eighty-nine!" "Eighty-eight and three-eighths!" 
 "Five thousand at eighty-eight !" 
 
 Everywhere Uncle SamTs agents were offering D. 
 B. and C. down. It touched eighty-six, but remained at 
 that quotation for some time; then advanced a quarter 
 of a point. A shoal of "stop-orders" had been gath- 
 ered in ; for a long time prices had been skimming the 
 surface above this tempting bait; a deeper dive and 
 the minnows were caught! Values afterward soared 
 a bit, and the suspense became greater. Most of the 
 offerings were quietly absorbed by the brokers of Mr. 
 Strong; whenever there seemed evidence of fair buying 
 from other sources, these agents remained inactive, re- 
 serving themselves for any possible emergency. 
 
 That gentleman, commanding the operation of a ma- 
 jority of the unobtrusive buyers, had eaten lunch 
 at his office sometime after the noon hour. The exciting
 
 TO XEGOTIATE AN IDEA 125 
 
 moments had slowly slipped by and but a brief inter- 
 val of suspense remained before the closing. 
 
 Meanwhile he drank his coffee and waited. From 
 where he was seated he could see a flood of people is- 
 suing from the building that had been a center of 
 interest throughout the day. He set down the cup; 
 then looked at his watch. A rap on the door, and a 
 darky from a near-by restaurant entered, followed by 
 the chief clerk. 
 
 " 'Sense me, Mistah Strong ! Mah instructions am t<D 
 brin' back de dishes." With which he began to gather 
 them noisily on a tray. "Done bought five shares 
 dat D. B. and C. on de curb, Mistah Strong !" he added 
 with a grin, shouldering his load and departing. Not 
 many months before he had been in bondage ; from slave 
 to speculator represented but one of the sudden transi- 
 tions of fortune in that momentous period. 
 
 "The market is a bit firmer, sir," said Tim, when 
 the dusky operator in small lots had vanished. "I 
 don't know exactly what's caused it except it is ru- 
 mored Fisk has broken loose from Brewster." 
 
 Eichard Strong pondered. Taplin's conclusion about 
 Jim Jubilee did not appear warranted to him at pres- 
 ent. But it might happen that the young man would 
 later secretly shake off his allegiance to the older. A 
 maze of conflicting interests would probably become
 
 126 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 evident at the first sign of impotence on Brewster's 
 part. As long as he was puissant and held the key to 
 the situation, he could hold his following, but let an 
 inkling get out that his grip was not iron or his fingers 
 were slipping, and Uncle Samuel would be left stand- 
 ing alone in the gap. Such a consummation Rich- 
 ard Strong expected but how long he should have to 
 wait for it he did not attempt to tell himself. 
 
 "By the way, sir, that young gentleman you refused 
 to see this morning has come back/' resumed Taplin. 
 
 "Mr. Dalton?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. When I gave him your message he said 
 he would call around later in the day. He is now wait- 
 ing outside." 
 
 "Show him in !" 
 
 And Richard Strong leaned back in his chair. Now 
 that the day was over that technical "day" of the 
 Street, measured by but a few hours, not by the rising 
 and setting of the sun he became conscious for the 
 first time of the mental tension he had been laboring 
 under. The gratifying belief that the future would 
 bring further advancement and an equitable readjust- 
 ment of values did not seem to afford him the satis- 
 faction it should have done. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Strong ?" 
 
 With apparently easy assurance Charlie Dalton strode
 
 TO NEGOTIATE AN IDEA 127 
 
 into the room. He was carefully dressed and' his clothes 
 set off well his tall, athletic figure. The tailor whom he 
 patronized could not have found a more fitting model, 
 and apparently that worthy maker of garments was 
 aware of the fact, for the morning coat draped the 
 broad shoulders without a wrinkle, while the light trous- 
 ers had been sedulously cut to adorn the nice symmetry 
 of the lower limbs. A voluminous flowing tie burst 
 gaily from the upper confines of the waistcoat; a small 
 fob peeped modestly from beneath it. On his finger 
 shone dully an old ring presumably ancestral! For 
 a moment the two men exchanged glances, and it was the 
 younger who again broke the silence. 
 
 "I heard you had returned," he continued. "I met 
 Mr. Eossiter and he told me all about it !" 
 
 Kichard Strong did not rise, nor did he shake hands 
 with his visitor, a reception not in accord with just 
 what Dalton had expected. On the few occasions when 
 they had met before Mr. Strong's marriage that gen- 
 tleman's manner had been cordial almost to friendliness. 
 This present remissness, however, Charlie overlooked 
 under the stress of circumstances so absorbing to this 
 master of finance, and, selecting a chair, dropped into 
 it without the formality of an invitation. 
 
 "I suppose Elinor was a good deal cut up," he went 
 on. -"And the Saratoga season just begun !"
 
 128 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 The other did not answer. Charlie laid the handle 
 of his cane meditatively against his chin; his eyes were 
 bent on the carpet. 
 
 Why had he called ? Richard Strong was asking him- 
 self. And why especially did he not state his business 
 at once? Did Charlie Dalton read the disinclination 
 toward himself in Richard Strong's eyes? At any rate, 
 his own gaze returned that brief scrutiny with a cer- 
 tain propitiatory deference. 
 
 "And how is Mrs.- Strong?" he asked. 
 
 "Very well," answered the elder man, shortly. 
 
 He had been wondering at that moment just what 
 connection the Daltons had with the Rossiters. He 
 knew a relationship existed between the two families, 
 but how near he could not say. Both the Rossiters and 
 the Daltons had been prominent in Colonial days and 
 had lived on Wall Street when that thoroughfare had 
 been devoted to fashion -and culture. Then, young gen- 
 tlemen of the name of Dalton, in powdered wigs and 
 black satin small-clothes, had promenaded thereabouts 
 with the Misses Rossiter in brocaded silks, court hoops 
 and the gay hats of the period. Nevertheless, the types 
 of the two families were entirely distinct. They ap- 
 peared of kin, but not of kind. Mr. Rossiter represented 
 the embodiment of culture and oversensitiveness ; young 
 Dalton was made of more virile or commonplace-^-clay.
 
 TO NEGOTIATE AN IDEA 129 
 
 "I am not disturbing you?" 
 
 It was Charlie Dal ton who was now studying Mr. 
 Strong. 
 
 "Disturbing? No!" looking straight at the young 
 fellow. 
 
 "Interrupting, then ?" 
 
 The other did not reply at once. When he did speak, 
 it was but to answer the question with another. 
 
 "What relation," said Mr. Strong, abruptly, "are you 
 to my wife's family?" 
 
 "Elinor and I are third cousins." 
 
 Kichard Strong drummed on the desk. 
 
 "What," he said bluntly, "can I do for you ?" 
 
 "Nothing," replied Charlie, "unless" here he hesi- 
 tated ; then added, "unless I can negotiate an idea." 
 
 The other stared hard at the young man. 
 
 "Why," continued Dalton, half-apologetically and 
 shifting his cane, "it's just a little plan of my own which 
 came to me at the office this morning as I watched on 
 the blackboard D. B. and C. tumbling down. It may 
 seem rather impertinent on my part to bring it to you, 
 but I couldn't get it out of my head. So thought I'd 
 come anyhow and if you didn't care to listen I could 
 go away again." 
 
 A grim smile nickered across Mr. Strong's features. 
 
 "Well, sir, what is this idea of yours?"
 
 130 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 Charlie recovered his assurance and his manner be- 
 came businesslike. 
 
 "Suppose you controlled most of D. B. and C., as no 
 doubt } r ou could, either as cash or contract stock." He 
 glanced quickly at Mr. Strong, but that gentleman's 
 face told him nothing. "Then offer some of it to the 
 bears for cash and buy it back from them on buyers' op- 
 tions. After that" 
 
 And Charlie went on to explain his plan or ruse 
 at length, growing more enthusiastic as he proceeded. 
 It was not only daring, but original and well-conceived. 
 Richard Strong listened, but made no comment until 
 the young man had finished. 
 
 "That is all very well," he said, "and might an- 
 swer, but" dryly "unfortunately for your idea, I am 
 accustomed to proceed in my own manner." 
 
 A quick flush mantled Charlie's face. "I am sorry 
 to have disturbed yon," he said, rising. "Very good 
 of you to listen to me. To tell you the truth, I was 
 not very sanguine about the matter. Good day." 
 
 "One moment! You mentioned your idea as nego- 
 tiable. What did you mean?" 
 
 "I meant to sell it if it was worth anything to yon." 
 
 "And how much did you expect to realize?" 
 
 Mr. Strong's tone was incisive; his eyes probed his 
 visitor. Charlie shrugged his shoulders.
 
 TO NEGOTIATE AN IDEA 131 
 
 '"Beggars can not be choosers," he said. 
 
 "Beggars !" repeated Kichard Strong. 
 
 Involuntarily he surveyed the new boots, the new hat, 
 the new waistcoat. 
 
 The flush again sprang to Dalton's cheek. Then his 
 eyes grew cynical. 
 
 "I'll tell you frankly, Mr. Strong/' he said; "when 
 the family reached me, the old ancestral vine had run 
 to seed. In other words, I came into the world too 
 late. Had enough and a little more to get through 
 college with. Did not know but what there was a lot of 
 lucre until my guardian died. Then I awoke to the 
 sad reality. I think " he added skeptically "he had 
 helped himself." 
 
 His listener did not evince great interest. 
 
 "What did you do then?" he asked. 
 
 "The best I could. I always had a hankering for the 
 Street, but soon found I couldn't get the kind of posi- 
 tion I wanted. Young men of college training do not 
 seem to be urgently needed for places of importance in 
 this neighborhood. However, I compromised with my 
 dignity and at present" with an ironical laugh "I 
 am engaged in the lucrative occupation of 'general util- 
 ity man,' for Simons, Shields and Company. 'Brokers 
 and Bankers', they call themselves; you can imagine
 
 132 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 what they are. But I won't detain you any longer, and 
 thank you for seeing me." 
 
 He had his hand on the door when 
 
 "I can't use your idea, but I might use you" said 
 the man at the desk. 
 
 Dalton turned and looked back. Eichard Strong was 
 recalling to his mind at that moment a half-promise 
 given to Mrs. Eossiter before his marriage. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Strong," that lady had said one evening, "I 
 want you to give Charlie Dalton a chance. He's such 
 a bright young man and comes from one of our best 
 families. He was brought up to expect a competency 
 and now poor fellow! finds himself thrown upon his 
 own resources." 
 
 "Poor fellow, indeed !" the other had answered with a 
 smile. "But I will see what can be done, Madam 
 when we get back !" 
 
 "Thank you. I knew you would. I am sure he 
 can be of service to you." 
 
 A half-promise became usually a whole-promise with 
 the man at the desk ; he had permitted that enthusiastic 
 lady to infer that he might do something when the 
 bridal trip was over. 
 
 "Do you want to try it in the office ?" said Mr. Strong. 
 
 Charlie started ; his eyes gleamed ! A sudden vision 
 swept across his mind. Eichard Strong was to the other
 
 TO NEGOTIATE AN IDEA 133 
 
 a genie with the magic lamp. Opportunity, the servitor 
 of the apt, beckoned him with enticing finger. But he 
 did not betray his eagerness; he passed his hand care- 
 lessly through his hair. 
 
 "What to do ?" he said. The recollection of a number 
 of pale-faced people, bending over desks in the outer 
 offices, pen in hand, abruptly tempered his zeal. 
 "Write?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "All right," replied the young man. "When do you 
 want me, Mr. Strong?" 
 
 "I'll let you know. Good day." 
 
 "Good day !" And Charlie Dalton bowed himself out 
 of the room. 
 
 Not without secret elation he swung around the cor- 
 ner of Wall Street into the main thoroughfare. As he 
 had said, he had scarcely expected Mr. Strong to make 
 use of his idea; he had gone to him for really another 
 purpose. He wanted to know Mr. Strong better and 
 what was more important wanted that gentleman to 
 know him. And now Charlie found himself in a fair 
 way indeed to become better acquainted with the finan- 
 cier a consummation devoutly to be wished for by a 
 young man who had yet to chain the god, Success, to his 
 car. Truly his visit had been productive of better re- 
 sults than he had anticipated.
 
 134 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 He did not know just where he was going now., but 
 as he wandered on, past, present and future blended 
 in his mind in fortuitous fashion. He saw himself as he 
 had been at college, when, secure in the belief that he was 
 master of a handsome fortune, he had recklessly in- 
 dulged every caprice, every folly. He saw himself now, 
 sobered by the abrupt revelation of his poverty his pre- 
 cipitancy tempered with cool calculation. He had not 
 been brought up to figure, but confronted by grim ne- 
 cessity, the spirit of old Uncle Wilhelm a rapacious 
 ancestor and one of the members of the ancient Ex- 
 change organized beneath the spreading boughs 
 looked out of his eyes. They were not disagreeable, 
 hard, squinting eyes like those of the venal and tight- 
 fisted little gentleman who had frowned in oils upon 
 succeeding generations of Daltons, but attractive, deep 
 blue, full of contradictions and confidence. 
 
 At the corner of Bleeker Street Charlie almost ran 
 into a young man, of short figure, wearing a white top 
 hat and check suit. Although immaculate, this person 
 was not handsome; his high hat seemed but to em- 
 phasize his lack of height and his side whiskers looked 
 the more aggressive in the bright sunshine. At variance 
 with this latter superficial appearance of combativeness, 
 however, his eyes beamed kindly upon Dalton and upon 
 the world in general.
 
 TO NEGOTIATE AN IDEA 135 
 
 "Well, Charlie, how goes it?" he asked. 
 
 Dalton placed one hand on the short man's shoulder, 
 and the other across his own breast. 
 
 " 'There is a tide in the affairs of men/ " he began. 
 
 "You don't say so ?" cried the delighted Tom Marks. 
 "But what" 
 
 " ' And we must take the current when it serves' 
 Tom" descending abruptly into pro'se "come along 
 and I'll tell you about it." 
 
 Mr. Marks slipped his arm through Charlie's, and, 
 as they walked on, listened at first with manifest in- 
 terest, then with unfeigned satisfaction. 
 
 "I don't wonder your idea caught his fancy !" he 
 exclaimed admiringly when the other had finished. "By 
 Jove, I don't believe any one else would have thought 
 of that." 
 
 Dalton made an expostulatory gesture. Ever since 
 a certain memorable occasion at college when he had 
 pulled the hapless Tom out of the river, he found he 
 had snatched from the depths a "friend who sticketh 
 closer than a brother." But Charlie was not one to be 
 idly deceived by his satellite's unqualified approval. 
 
 "Nonsense, Tom !" he said doubtfully. "I'm not at 
 all sure it was the idea. To tell you the truth, I 
 don't know just what did influence him."
 
 CHAPTEE XII 
 
 MR. EOSSITER VISITS THE STREET 
 
 The batter} 7 , once the Belgravia of the older city, 
 had long since been shorn of its glory; the spot 
 where the courtly Lafayette had been received 
 was now a landing-place for immigrants and a ren- 
 dezvous for the runners and light-fingered gentry 
 from the Five Points, the St. Giles' of New York. 
 Those ladies, whose grandmothers had promenaded the 
 Battery with the fashion and elite of the day, now 
 solaced themselves with a spin in the park or an after- 
 noon saunter on the Mall. 
 
 The city nesting on the water's edge could not be con- 
 fined by old landmarks. The trend of fashion on Man- 
 hattan Island had been steadily up-town, until Fifth 
 Avenue, as far as Fifty-ninth Street, had become an 
 unbroken line of brown stone. From this highly respect- 
 able thoroughfare of the growing metropolis, the mo- 
 notonous-looking fronts overflowed upon Madison and 
 Lexington Avenues, Fourteenth, Twenty-third and 
 136
 
 MB. EOSSITEE VISITS THE STEEET 137 
 
 Thirty-fourth Streets, and Madison, Stuyvesant, and 
 Gramercy Squares. 
 
 If a person could be judged by his house, as a mol- 
 lusk may be classified by its shell, the observer of this 
 portion of the newer New York would have affirmed it 
 was populated by a serious, sedate people, every indi- 
 vidual just like his neighbor. That this inference is un- 
 warranted, the witty and satirical poets of the day vehe- 
 mently assert, for the press was rife with doggerels be- 
 laboring Vanity Fair and the prevailing modes. Many 
 a quatrain against the pretensions of wealth brought the 
 bard his next meal, while a bucolic on high life paid 
 for a merry evening at Pfaff's and a pipe and. beer in 
 kindred Bohemian company. 
 
 In this gay Manhattan town, near a small private park 
 of green, surrounded by the public highway, stood a 
 corner house, larger than its neighbors, and not with- 
 out a certain air of stateliness and grandeur. This 
 spacious home Eichard Strong had purchased for hia 
 bride, and thither they moved about a month after their 
 return from Saratoga. 
 
 Here no sound more confusing than the gentle tink- 
 ling of the dustman's bells, wending his way slowly 
 with his cart, or the occasional dash of an intrusive ve- 
 hicle, disturbed the tranquil existence of the dwellers. 
 And even the dustman, begrimed and unshaven like a
 
 133 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 prophet of old, carried with him his lesson on the van- 
 ity of worldly things and outward show. 
 
 "Rags ! rags ! 
 Bring out your bags!" 
 
 sounded the jingling bells. And then : 
 
 "Iron turns to rust 
 And satin to dust!" 
 
 admonished the jangling string above the cart, with its 
 load of litter and leavings. 
 
 But the month had wrought more changes for Rich- 
 ard Strong than the mere change of abode. After the 
 full and unreserved publication of all the facts pertain- 
 ing to D. B. and C. that property had again begun to 
 soar until it had passed any previous mark recorded 
 on the Exchange. 
 
 Uncle Samuel had stood desperately at his post in the 
 vain endeavor to hold it. His aids and assistants, how- 
 ever, had hastened precipitously to cover, and, by the 
 irony of that bitter warfare that arrays friend against 
 friend, or turns an ally into a foeman, the purchases 
 they made consisted of the offerings of their erstwhile 
 leader himself, who alone, ignorant of this wholesale de- 
 sertion, continued to obey but one mad prompting to 
 sell! sell! 
 
 This instinct of self-preservation on the part of his 
 following and the consequent general scurrying had but
 
 Mil. EOSSITEE VISITS THE STREET 131) 
 
 hastened the inevitable climax. Uncle Samuel's profits 
 became losses; his full pockets, empty ones. He looked 
 around for his friends and lo, he found that "prosperity 
 is no just scale, but adversity is the only balance by 
 which to weigh friends." 
 
 Moreover and this was the bitterest after-considera- 
 tion the man he had sought to injure he had only 
 greatly enriched. Eichard Strong's earnings during that 
 period of recovery were estimated as not inconsiderable 
 even for one of his means. To protect himself he had 
 bought stock "all the way down," and, when values had 
 "struck bottom," he had personally absorbed nearly the 
 entire offerings. Then the public, a mighty reserve 
 force, had stepped in; the upward movement had re- 
 sembled the downward tendency rapid, almost un- 
 stemmed and Mr. Strong's paper profits became real 
 ones. His original holdings of the various stocks and 
 bonds he still retained; the extra certificates or their 
 equivalent he turned over to the public and the profes- 
 sion. After the flurry was over, lie again went the even 
 tenor of his way. To him Wall Street was not merely a 
 sensational stock- jobbing thoroughfare, but a street 
 where new enterprises, reaching over the land, were born, 
 fathered and legitimately financed. 
 
 Exactly how well he had fared in the struggle no 
 one knew from him; but Mrs. Eossiter plumed her
 
 140 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 feathers ostentatiously. Mr. Rossiter, however, looked 
 reflective; he could not entirely reconcile his daughter's 
 manner to that unalloyed felicity that Mrs. Rossiter told 
 herself and her friends was Elinor's marriage-portion. 
 At times he fancied he detected grave shadows in her 
 eyes, and she seemed somehow different, and colder, 
 more statuesque than consistent with Mr. Rossiter's old- 
 fashioned notions of the conventionally happy bride. 
 Once he had even ventured to say when they were alone 
 together : 
 
 "You are ahem ! perfectly contented, Elinor dear, 
 in your ahem ! your new life ?" 
 
 At first, his abrupt question had startled her ; she had 
 gazed at him suddenly with wide-open eyes; then, be- 
 fore his look of perplexity, or vague misgiving, a smile 
 half -affectionate, half-reassuring, had crossed her face. 
 
 "Contented? Why shouldn't I be, papa?" 
 
 And Mr. Rossiter's doubts for the time had vanished. 
 
 "Of course," he had echoed, patting her brown head 
 which bent as readily as of old to his caress. "Why 
 shouldn't you be !" 
 
 But although his suspicions had been lulled to rest, 
 Mr. Rossiter felt that he could not entirely understand 
 Mr. Strong. That man of affairs had always treated him 
 with unvarying courtesy, but a difference in their tastes 
 and methods of thinking precluded other than a formal
 
 MR. ROSSITER VISITS THE STREET 141 
 
 intimacy. Mr. Rossiter's mind ran to Rossini; to anec- 
 dotes of painters, ancient and modern, and to his own 
 early days in Paris before Xapoleon III had mounted 
 the throne, or the Crimean War had shaken Europe. He 
 understood very well all about Continental politics, but 
 knew little and cared less about what was going on 
 at home. He had a smattering of French, Italian and 
 Spanish ; Mr. Strong spoke only English and very little 
 of that ! 
 
 Therefore Mr. Rossiter was surprised one day to 
 receive a letter from Mr. Strong, asking him to call at 
 his office the next morning, if convenient, at a certain 
 hour. A request from a man like Richard Strong 
 seemed a command, even to Mr. Rossiter, accustomed to 
 obeying only the wavering behests of his own inclina- 
 tion; and accordingly the following day, with some 
 curiosity and wonderment, he set out for the financier's 
 place of business. 
 
 The Rossiters, like many an old family of that day, 
 still lived well down-town, and, as the distance was not 
 great to his destination and the weather fine, Mr. Ros- 
 siter decided to walk. Stopping at a florist's he pur- 
 chased a spray of jasmine which he set jauntily upon the 
 lapel of his coat and strode blithely on. 
 
 The streets were thronged and his interest was un- 
 flagging, as he wended his way toward the money-center
 
 142 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 of the town, casually conscious of the contents of tlie 
 gay shop-windows the strings of amber necklaces, much 
 affected by the ladies that season; the divers-colored 
 displays of broad sash ribbons; the floral coiffures, de- 
 pending in long garlands of red roses over the inanimate 
 shoulders of the wax-figure models from Paris ! 
 
 In his relish for these decorative trifles, however, Mr. 
 Iiossiter did not forget the people that wore them. 
 Flower-girls, toy-sellers blowing whistles, and dog and 
 bird fanciers, he passed by unnoticed, but the toilets of 
 the ladies drew from him many an amused, if not 
 appreciative glance especially those figures in the 
 fullest glory of the "C4recian bend" ! 
 
 Here and there, his gaze was attracted' by a passing 
 celebrity, local or otherwise; A. T. Stewart, small, 
 shrewd', keen-eyed; Thurlow Weed, tall, thin, shamb- 
 ling ;Lydia Thompson, rosy, frowsy, English! That fa- 
 mous burlesque queen wa.s then performing at Wood's 
 Museum and Metropolitan Theater, and whenever she 
 went out for a walk, her progress through the streets in 
 high heels and hoops invariably occasioned even more 
 comment than the appearance on the Eialto of the inim- 
 itable Artemns Ward himself. 
 
 "Lydia Thompson, indeed!" thought Mr. E-ossiter, 
 shaking his head disapprovingly. 
 
 In the old days ah, then it was different! Then
 
 MR. HOSSlTEli VISITS THE STREET 143 
 
 artists were, artists ! People did not run after burlesque, 
 and large London ladies with small voices ! True, there 
 had been dancing, but such dancing ! 
 
 La Sylphide, and Jallco dc X.eres, tripped by the 
 divine Fanny ! And the operas ! with what wealth of 
 vocal ornamentation had they been interpreted ! 
 
 Thus ruminating, he finally reached the street that 
 possessed, for him, so little interest; that narrow way, 
 whore were no shop-windows ; where women in buzzing 
 throngs were wanting, and, in their stead 1 , men, pale- 
 faced or eager-eyed, were bustling about as if looking 
 for something. What ? Nothing Mr. Rossiter had ever 
 been very much interested in although something he 
 felt the need of now. 
 
 His step grew more staid, his expression pensive; the 
 very atmosphere impressed him. He seemed as a stranger 
 among these people. Yet he knew many of them by 
 sight. Yonder black-bearded little man who was hurry* 
 ing as if to catch a train was among the first of the 
 trust-makers ; his business, to buy two or more bad rail- 
 roads, make them one good (?) railroad ; issue bonds and 
 stock and then sell out to the public. Mr. Rossiter had 
 only an indistinct comprehension of the process, but he 
 had always wondered why the public bought. He knew 
 they did ; that they never failed to oblige the dark little 
 gentleman, and that when the property became bank-
 
 144 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 nipt, he favored them,, and took it back at his own fig- 
 ures. Then after a reasonable interval 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Rossiter?" 
 
 It was Mr. Strong himself who thus accosted him at 
 the entrance of the building where his offices were lo- 
 cated. Mr. Eossiter looked up quickly, extending his 
 thin white hand with easy cordiality. 
 
 "I received your note, Mr. Strong, and " 
 
 "The business I wished to speak to you about \ron't 
 take but a moment/' interrupted the other. "I am 
 obliged to leave the office for a time, and, if you do not 
 mind, I will tell you about it here. That will save your 
 time and mine." 
 
 Mr. Rossiter might have replied that time was of no 
 consequence to him ; that he had never been a slave to it, 
 and that there was no urgent need for precipitancy on 
 his part at the present moment. But the other's ener- 
 getic manner became contagious, and he replied more 
 briskly than his wont: 
 
 "Quite true ! What can I do for you ?" 
 
 A ghost of a smile flickered across Mr. Strong's coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 "Some time ago you spoke to me about some southern 
 bonds you had purchased for Mrs. Rossiter," he said. 
 
 The liveliness faded fiom the elder man's face. He 
 had avoided of late thinking about that unpleasant topic
 
 ME. EOSSITER VISITS THE STEEET 145 
 
 as much as possible; not that he had succeeded entirely 
 in this resolution to set a disagreeable matter behind 
 him. On the contrary, there were moments when it 
 forced itself upon his attention; moments when he 
 weakly peered into the future and wondered how long 
 tilings could go on as they were ! 
 
 "Yes," he assented hesitatingly, "I believe I did' men- 
 tion that little matter to you." 
 
 "What will you sell them for ?" continued the other, 
 bluntly. 
 
 Mr. Eossiter gave a start of genuine surprise. He 
 doubted if he had heard aright. Sell them ! 
 
 "But," he blurted out eagerly, "they are not worth 
 anything !" 
 
 "I am my own judge of that," answered Mr, Strong, 
 dryly. "There exists a chance that a state, like an indi- 
 vidual, may have its moments of compunction ; may te- 
 pent its action in repudiating its obligations." 
 
 The other listened mechanically. He remembered the 
 little hope that had been thrown out to him regarding 
 such a contingency a recent discouraging conversation 
 at his club with the president of one of the largest banks. 
 
 "I don't believe it !" he exclaimed warmly. 
 
 Mr. Strong smiled ; he even placed his great hand on 
 the frail old gentleman's shoulder. 
 
 "You are a poor salesman of your wares !" he said not
 
 146 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 unkindly. "But I don't ask you to believe it. I'm will- 
 ing to take the chance if you'll take the chance and sell 
 f or fifty cents on the dollar." 
 
 Mr. Bossiter turned red ; his heart gave a sudden throb 
 of delight. To recover half of that disastrous invest- 
 ment ! It was beyond his wildest dreams ! Perhaps it 
 would silence Mrs. Eossiter's reproaches ; perhaps 
 
 "Of course/' went on the measured voice of Ei chard 
 Strong, "in the event of the state's experiencing the 
 prickings of conscience, you would lose half the original 
 investment." 
 
 "I'd rather be sure of half than take such remote 
 chances on the whole," cried the old gentleman, eagerly. 
 "I accept your offer, and with thanks that is, if you 
 really think" he could not help adding, half -guiltily 
 "there is a prospect of the bonds being paid some day ?" 
 
 His listener apparently did not hear this implied ques- 
 tion, or, if he heard, chose not to answer. "Bring them 
 around any time," he said, "and I'll give you a check 
 for them." 
 
 "I can run over to the trust company and get them 
 now," said the other. 
 
 On his way to the trust company Mr. Rossiter seemed 
 walking on air. The street of little interest became a 
 thoroughfare of good cheer and exhilaration. Pie smiled 
 on the solid-looking fronts and uninviting entrances. In
 
 ME. KOSSITEE VISITS THE STEEET 147 
 
 the vault of the trust company, which he presently en- 
 tered, he regarded the once despised bonds with glances 
 of new affection. 
 
 "After all, it wasn't such a bad investment," he said 
 to himself. And in the corridor, where he a moment 
 later encountered a grave-looking gentleman "I've sold 
 them, Mr. Brownson !" he exclaimed. "Those southern 
 state bonds you remember advising me were of no value 
 whatever !" 
 
 The grave-looking gentleman stared at him. 
 
 "Sold them !" he repeated incredulously. "You are 
 joking !" 
 
 "Not a bit of it !" cried Mr. Eossiter. "And to a man 
 who knows what such things are worth !" 
 
 "Bless my soul !' ; ' remarked the grave-looking gentle- 
 man, as the other departed with the bonds safely but- 
 toned up in a pocket of his coat. "What can 1 it mean ? 
 Who can want them ? I should have thought I could as 
 easily sell Confederate money."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A DAT FOR REFLECTION 
 
 If Mr. Eossiter had apprehended that the ties that 
 bound his daughter to him would he weakened under 
 the new conditions of her life, he was doomed to 
 agreeable disappointment. On the contrary, the bond be- 
 tween them seemed to become stronger, and, at this pe- 
 riod, they were often seen together. The social season 
 in town had long since waned, and had been succeeded 
 by nature's festal season. The blossoms of spring had 
 become the full-perfumed flowers of early summer; they 
 bloomed in park and garden and threw their redolence, 
 as far as might be, out over the dusty city. The air still 
 retained a freshness, but the crimson sun, sinking every 
 night in a blaze of glory, gave promise of sultry days 
 to come. 
 
 Calling, on the morning after his visit to Wall Street, 
 at his daughter's home, Mr. Rossiter was shown into the 
 great drawing-room. While waiting for Elinor to ap- 
 pear, he critically examined the pictures with which the 
 walls were adorned. From the painted canvases he 
 148
 
 A DAY FOR REFLECTION 149 
 
 passed on to his own reflection, as depicted in the pier 
 glass which ran from floor to ceiling. As he stood, a 
 fine aristocratic figure, casually surveying himself, his 
 daughter entered. 
 
 Pausing at the threshold to draw on her gloves, she 
 could not but notice the expression of satisfaction on his 
 thin features. He was half-smiling while adjusting his 
 white mustache, as if his ruminations were far from an 
 unpleasing character. 
 
 "Good morning, papa !" and she stood, a tall form in 
 hlue by his side. 
 
 "Good morning, my dear ! I see you are ready for a 
 walk." 
 
 Still holding her hand, he surveyed her. 
 
 "How well you are looking !" 
 
 "And you," she laughed quickly, though with some 
 constraint, "I never saw you looking younger, or in bet- 
 ter spirits !" 
 
 "To tell you the truth, I never felt better !" he an- 
 swered. "A little business matter, my dear, that has ter- 
 minated well, rather better than we thought! But I 
 will tell you about it as we go along." 
 
 "Suppose we go into the park, and you can tell me 
 about it there," she said almost gaily. 
 
 Mr. Rossiter assented, and in a few moments they de- 
 scended together the formidable array of steps leading
 
 150 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 into the street. Within the little garden, the distant 
 rumbling of the busy thoroughfare sounded like the 
 monotonous breaking of the surf, its pulsations steady, 
 deep, apparently never-ending. 
 
 "Well, papa?" 
 
 She was bending over a flowering bush and he with 
 well-pleased eyes had been watching her, but at her words 
 he started. 
 
 "Bless me, I had nearly forgotten !" 
 
 Elinor looked up. 
 
 "Confess," she said, as they strolled down the path, 
 "you were thinking of some favorite verses ?" 
 
 "As to that," he answered, "one never gets too old for 
 poetry." 
 
 "Some never care for it/' she returned thoughtfully. 
 
 "Never care for it !" he expostulated. "What heresy !" 
 and proceeded to tell her of the message he had re- 
 ceived from Richard Strong, the visit to Wall Street, and 
 the result of their interview. 
 
 She listened attentively, but said nothing ; only looked 
 at him earnestly and appeared to be thinking deeply. 
 
 "I don't think much of the bonds myself for a ven- 
 ture," continued Mr. Rossiter, cheerily, "but I notice 
 that in the Journal of Commerce several firms are bid- 
 ding fifty for them to-day." 
 
 "Is that what you ^old them for?"
 
 A DAY FOR REFLECTION 1.11 
 
 ''Yes; Mr. Strong undoubtedly bought them for a 
 speculation. Well, I hope they will go higher ! Good- 
 ness knows, / was glad enough to get them off my hands 
 at any price !" 
 
 "Speculation ?" Elinor felt sure Richard Strong was 
 opposed to all that the word implied. What then had 
 moved him to buy this questionable southern paper? 
 She pursed her brow; she wanted time to think; here 
 it seemed impossible; perhaps out on the noisy streets 
 
 "Of course," she said hastily, "in a matter like this 
 Mr. Strong probably considered both sides carefully. 
 But our walk, papa we must not miss that !" 
 
 He swung his cane lightly. "N"o, indeed !" he as- 
 sented, following her down the path. 
 
 So many people wore out and the thoroughfares 
 appeared so animated, Mr. Rossiter did not observe his 
 daughter's subsequent preoccupation. Moreover, she un- 
 consciously walked a little faster than usual, and the old 
 gentleman, in adapting his step to hers, found the brisk 
 exercise not entirely conducive to conversation. Accord- 
 ingly, he contented himself with bowing here and there, 
 with occasional comments on the people they met. 
 
 To these and other passing remarks she answered me- 
 chanically. She remembered she had once, in her solici- 
 tude for her father, referred to the bonds in a seemingly 
 careless manner to Mr. Strong and that his reply had
 
 153 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 been non-committal. He did not know exactly what 
 they were worth or whether they could be sold. 
 
 As she reviewed this incident, suddenly her face be- 
 came tinted with color ; her heart beat a little faster. She 
 felt both humiliated and annoyed. 
 
 But this feeling soon passed. Her father had said 
 several firms were bidding on the bonds to-day. That 
 would seem to indicate a radical change of sentiment 
 toward them. It did not occur to Elinor that this brief 
 revival of interest might be coincident with the report 
 that Eichard Strong had' bought these securities, and 
 that certain people were willing to follow blindly in his 
 footsteps, attaching some deep significance and secret 
 source of information to his action. Yet even while thus 
 endeavoring to reassure her pride, she also felt intu- 
 itively that he had not been influenced by selfish mo- 
 tives. He had undoubtedly acted with Mr. Rossiters 
 welfare in view; conscientiously not 
 
 "My dear!" 
 
 She turned ; Mr. Rossiter's hand touched her arm ; big 
 face wore a whimsical expression. 
 
 "My dear," he repeated; "I'm afraid I am growing 
 old !" 
 
 "Oh," she said, with sudden compunction. And added 
 after a moment : "Papa, promise me you won't have any 
 more business dealings with Mr. Strong."
 
 A DAY FOE REFLECTION 153 
 
 He regarded her in a puzzled manner, then laughed 
 easily. 
 
 "I don't think there is much likelihood of my becom- 
 ing involved in many business transactions. My affairs 
 now are very simple and I won't trouble Mr. Strong 
 about them. I am not sorry I mentioned the bonds, 
 though. His confidence in them certainly removed a 
 great worry from my mind a worry that has been caus- 
 ing me much care and anxiety of late." 
 
 She looked at the slight debonair figure. 
 
 "You ?" she said with the playful accent of incredulity 
 she used to bestow upon him. 
 
 "If I hadn't sold those bonds" He paused. "Cer- 
 tainly it was most opportune for your mother and my- 
 self." 
 
 Her eyes clouded. 
 
 "Which reminds me," he went on suddenly, "that I 
 have an engagement at Curet's to meet your mother." 
 
 "Then we had better go back," she said quietly. 
 
 Upon reaching the door of her house, he hesitated and 
 regarded her almost questioningly. She seemed more 
 subdued than when they had set out together ; again, he 
 vaguely wondered if all were as well with her as he had 
 fondly imagined. But she returned his glance reassur- 
 ingly and he forgot his incertitude a* he moved away. 
 
 Elinor, standing a moment on the steps, heard the
 
 154 BLACK F1UDAY 
 
 postman's voice, and taking the letters he handed her, 
 reentered the house. Sorting out the missives some 
 for Mr. Strong, a few for herself she slowly mounted 
 the broad staircase to her own sitting-room. She seated 
 herself at her desk and glanced at the messages. One 
 of these which bore on the envelope the picture of a 
 mammoth hotel she opened. It was from Posie Stan- 
 ton and postmarked Newport. 
 
 "My darling" Posie was nothing, if not extravagant 
 in her mode of expression "all the world is here that 
 is, the feminine part of it! Man, 'the crowning wonder 
 of creation/ alone is absent. Still there's no time for re- 
 pining! We dress and undress and dress again. The 
 bathing costumes are as ridiculous as ever, and mine 
 makes me look like an inflated balloon. You can imag- 
 ine, having that effect on poor little me, what such a 
 dress looks like when it adorns middle-aged embon- 
 point" 
 
 The letter dropped from Elinor's hand; at that mo- 
 ment even Posie's vivacious style palled upon her. She 
 arose ; took off her hat and laid it on the bed ; picked it 
 up again and' gazed at it contemplatively. Then, sinking 
 into a chair near the window, she robbed the offending 
 bit of millinery of a flower. The result pleased her no 
 better; the light fingers ceased to desecrate the modish
 
 A DAY FOE REFLECTION 153 
 
 creation of Madame Camille. Once more she turned to 
 Posie's missive : 
 
 "Of course we have seen in the papers all about Mr, 
 Strong, and D. B. and C. Papa says he is grand the 
 highest type of the real couldn't-fail-if-he-wanted-to 
 American or something like that " 
 
 This time Elinor resolutely perused the missive to the 
 end, italics and all, even its three postscripts scribbled 
 sidewise on the various pages. Then she pushed back 
 her chair. 
 
 The day promised to be a long one, especially as she 
 felt a disinclination for the usual attractions of the outer 
 world. She thought of reading, but books, lately, had 
 seemed inadequate to her needs. Passively she watched 
 the sunlight creeping creeping, so slowly along the 
 floor. 
 
 How quiet the house was ! How quiet and large and 
 almost tenantless, it seemed ! The upper hall, too, 
 looked very dark, as she now stole along it, pausing be- 
 fore Eichard Strong's private study. The door was ajar 
 and she entered, placing the letters that were addressed 
 to him on the mantel. 
 
 The room was fair-sized yet almost devoid of orna- 
 mentation. Upon a great desk were many papers, a 
 lamp, an ash-tray and a box of cigars. The papers she 
 glanced at without disturbing their arrangement. They
 
 156 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 were full of technicalities and legal phrases she did not 
 understand. The ash-tray then absorbed her attention; 
 it had not yet been cleaned and she counted the cigars 
 he had smoked the night before. He had once told her 
 it was not his practice as a rule to consider business dur- 
 ing certain hours for rest in the evening. She did not 
 believe he ever allowed himself any relaxation of late. 
 
 A small case contained a number of books. She had 
 never looked to see what they were, but she did now and 
 discovered that, for the most part, the volumes consisted 
 of government and state reports; legislative manuals; 
 documents pertaining to railroad and mining commis- 
 sions, and kindred literature. Among that grim, sta- 
 tistical company, with their dusty backs and funereal 
 bindings, not a single volume of fiction or verse had 
 crept in to alleviate the severe usefulness of those un- 
 inviting shelves. 
 
 Upon the case stood a small, but perfect, model of a 
 locomotive which she regarded contemplatively. It was 
 made of silver and gold and a tiny plate, beneath the 
 miniature headlight, said something about its being a 
 presentation from some friendly-disposed fellow di- 
 rectors. 
 
 Affixed to the standard upon which it rested was a 
 stanza of the poem by Fitz-James O'Brien, on the real, 
 live monster this dainty toy was a tiny copy of. 
 
 That Richard Strong treasured the model and the
 
 A DAY FOE KEFLECTION 157 
 
 sentiment it represented, was evident from the conspicu- 
 ous place it occupied. So, she told herself, he did see 
 poetry in certain phases of life. To his virile mind, real 
 things, commonplace matters, were poems. The imagin- 
 ation of the inventor was the inspiration of his muse; his 
 rhymesters beat with hammers. 
 
 With hands clasped behind her, she stood still. Her 
 conception of existence seemed all at once aimless, inde- 
 terminate ! 
 
 After lingering a few moments longer in his study, she 
 returned to her own sitting-room. Certain little sins of 
 omission in their domestic economy she resolutely began 
 to repair and in a sudden fervor of alertness and atten- 
 tion to detail, she found that comparative forgetfulness 
 she courted. 
 
 The neglected ash-tray was the starting point. The 
 deposition, examination and testimony regarding this 
 crime of carelessness; the summoning of witnesses di- 
 rectly and indirectly concerned, were antidotes to her 
 disquietude. She abruptly developed into a despot, and 
 her subjects or servitors with consternation discov- 
 ered that her regime promised to lack that supineness 
 they at first had fondly looked for. 
 
 At nightfall as she dressed for dinner, the morning's 
 conversation with her father again took possession of her 
 thoughts. She wanted to question Mr. Strong ; she half-
 
 158 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 intended to do so, and yet the desire was not unmixed 
 with reluctance. Pride and humiliation strove within 
 her; she shrank from asking, half-fearing her doubts 
 might be realized. One moment her pride was up in 
 arms; the next moment disarmed by a new and softer 
 feeling. 
 
 The dinner hour seemed long in coming; she listened 
 with impatience for his step at the door. But finally he 
 came somewhat late and she went down to dinner, her 
 heart beating a little fast. Neither she nor Eichard 
 Strong had ever much to say during that ceremonial oc- 
 casion. Perhaps the high walls and massive style of in- 
 terior architecture of the room threw a depressing influ- 
 ence upon them. Perhaps the titanic and merry ban- 
 queting figures in the gay tapestries made man and wife 
 seem very small and quiet in that apartment, designed 
 for the reception of a goodly company. 
 
 Leaning her head on her hand, she looked furtively at 
 him from time to time. Her gown was white and gauzy 
 and above the mist of lace-work, a string of pearls en- 
 circled her neck. Over her shoulders fell a gold-brown 
 curl, as if to emphasize the tender whiteness of its rest- 
 ing-place. The glimmer of her eyes was bright like the 
 sheen of the pearls. 
 
 "The Stantons are at Newport," she said at length. 
 
 "A great many people are," he answered.
 
 A DAY FOR REFLECTION . 159 
 
 A brief silence ! In the soft light from the chandelier 
 his face did not, perhaps, appear as harsh as usual. Or 
 did it really seem harsh to her at all? Her father was 
 the weak point in her heart ; Richard Strong had touched 
 that point. He had been of service to him. Unwit- 
 tingly, perhaps ; but she did not pause now to analyze or 
 canvass his reasons. 
 
 "It must be very gay at the sea-shore, or soon will be," 
 she went on. 
 
 "Do you want to go ?" he asked suddenly. 
 
 She hesitated, looked at him quickly; then shook her 
 head. 
 
 "No, I don't care to," she answered slowly. 
 
 Her fingers played with the fork while she gazed at, 
 and yet beyond, an old Dutch still-life on the wall; a 
 cornucopia, or horn of plenty, overrunning with a pro- 
 fusion of fruits, grapes and flowers. 
 
 "Do you know Mr. Stanton ?" she said after a pause. 
 
 "No," he replied. "Why do you ask ?" 
 
 "Oh, not for any special reason," she returned vaguely. 
 "I thought perhaps you might !" 
 
 He offered no comment; only lighted his cigar, and 
 began smoking methodically. Her gaze impatiently fol- 
 lowed the butler as he moved noiselessly around the 
 table, but at length he vanished, and they found them- 
 selves alone. She leaned back; a question that had
 
 'EL60 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 framed itself in her mind trembled on her lips ; she was 
 about to speak when the chimes of the tall clock began to 
 strike. He looked at his watch, laid down his cigar and 
 arose. 
 
 "You are going out ?" she asked quickly. 
 "There is a business meeting at the St. Nicholas !" 
 Her face shadowed. "It must be nice to be a man and 
 have business meetings !" As ehe spoke, she, too, arose 
 and stood leaning with her hand against the table. 
 <f Your meeting is very important?" 
 
 "Very." He regarded her with mild surprise. Her 
 jnanner puzzled him. She seemed to-night as she had 
 been when he had first known her ; she, of late, so proud 
 and still ! 
 , '"Was there anything" 
 
 "No, nothing !" she answered hastily. 
 He caught her eyes and started; then turned abrupt- 
 ly, even bruskly away. A few moments later she heard 
 the front door close and a carriage drive off. 
 
 Going to the window of the reception-room, she looked 
 after it until it. disappeared. In the semi-darkness, her 
 mind swept rapidly over the brief-long period of her 
 married life. In that short month and more how often 
 had rebellion sprung into her breast ! 
 
 "I won't endure it ; I won't endure it !" she had said to 
 herself, but had ended by temporizing with the future.
 
 A DAY FOR REFLECTION 161 
 
 She was temporizing now. With sudden lassitude she 
 passed her hand across her forehead. About her were 
 trailing shadows ; the heavy perfume of many roses hung 
 over one of the great vases and she leaned her head 
 against it. 
 
 The sound of the front door-bell was heard; she half- 
 turned and listened; a familiar voice inquired for Mrs, 
 Strong. 
 
 <<r Yes ; I'm home, Cousin Charlie !" she said herself, 
 and stepping toward the hall, Elinor the next moment 
 clasped the hand of Charlie Dalton. 
 
 "Just dropped in to see how you were getting on," he 
 said. "Hope I'm not disturbing you ?" 
 
 "Not at all !" she answered quickly. "I am delighted." 
 
 Her face looked a little flushed as she raised it to his. 
 
 "Won't you come into the library ?"
 
 CHAPTEE XIV 
 
 ELINOR MAKES A KESOLUTION 
 
 "Are you alone F said Dalton, as they entered a 
 brightly-lighted room on the other side of the 
 hall. 
 
 "Yes; Mr. Strong went out on business. But why 
 haven't you been here before ?" she hastened to add. 
 
 The young man hesitated, a touch of constraint in his 
 manner. 
 
 "Eeally, I haven't any excuse except " 
 
 "No excuse is better than a poor one," she interrupted, 
 and dropped lightly into a chair. "So never mind about 
 taxing your ingenuity." 
 
 "Well, I won't then," said Charlie, with a faint laugh, 
 and drew a cigar from his pocket. "You don't object?" 
 indicating the weed. "You never used to." 
 
 "There are the matches on the table," she said, and 
 settled herself more comfortably in the large leather 
 chair. "But what have you been doing with yourself?" 
 she added, regarding him with something of the half- 
 proprietary air of the past. 
 
 162
 
 ELINOR MAKES A RESOLUTION 163 
 
 "Not much/' he answered. "You knew that I went 
 into Mr. Strong's office a while ago?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "That has meant a good deal to me," he said. "It 
 came just at the right time, too." He was silent a mo- 
 ment, smoking thoughtfully. Elinor studied the hand- 
 some face before her. 
 
 "How how did you happen to go into Mr. Strong's 
 office ?" she at length asked, rather hesitatingly. 
 
 Charlie proceeded to relate to her the substance of the 
 interview he had had with Eichard Strong. 
 
 "But hasn't he ever spoken to you about it ?" he added, 
 as he concluded, an inquiring look in his dark-blue eyes. 
 
 Elinor colored a little. "Not just how how it hap- 
 pened to come about." 
 
 "Perhaps he likes to leave the talk of the Street be- 
 hind him," suggested Charlie, still searching her with 
 his glance. 
 
 "The Street !" she exclaimed, quickly turning the con- 
 versation. "What a veiled mystery ! Do women ever go 
 there?" 
 
 An ironical smile crossed the other's face. "Yes 
 sometimes ! Spiritualistic mediums and war-widows, 
 for example! The commodore, you know," he added, 
 "has a special medium, although, for my part, I don't
 
 164 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 think the psychic force had much to do with his corner- 
 ing Hudson or Harlem." 
 
 "All that men seem to think about nowadays is 
 stocks !" she observed somewhat irrelevantly. 
 
 "And women Stewart's I" 
 
 She lifted her brows, smoothing down her dress re- 
 flectively with her hand. 
 
 "The men have their Exchange and the women - 
 theirs !" went on Dalton, sententiously. 
 
 Her foot moved with sudden impatience. "You mean 
 all women think of is spending money ?" 
 
 He held his cigar in mid air. "Her first, sole and 
 only ambition !" 
 
 The flashing brown eyes met the satirical blue ones. 
 
 "It seems to me I heard of some one at college who 
 started very rapidly to get rid of all he had." 
 
 Charlie's face perceptibly changed. "There wasn't 
 much to get rid of/' he said. "Some one else did the 
 disencumbering." 
 
 She laughed rather revengefully. "I suppose it would 
 have been just the same in the end." 
 
 He did not answer, and rising abruptly, she took a, few 
 steps across the room. 
 
 "How would you like a little music ?" 
 
 Charlie got up, too. 
 
 "By all means ! But you're not impatient with me ?
 
 ELIXOR MAKES A RESOLUTION 165 
 
 Though that would be very like old times ! As a small 
 girl you always had your own way/' he added reflectively. 
 
 "Did I ?" 
 
 "Bather ! Bemember the day we eloped ?" 
 
 He stood by her side now, her head on a level with his 
 shoulder. She smiled up at him. 
 
 "Eloped? With you?" 
 
 He overlooked the emphasis. 
 
 "You must have been about ten; you were angry at 
 some one your mother, I think and wanted to run 
 away from home. So we started I didn't seem to have 
 much to say about it only to go along you were on 
 my sled and I was drawing you we came to a snowdrift 
 and you fell into it " 
 
 "And you," she interrupted, "ran away of course and. 
 left me ! But now what shall I play ?" 
 
 He followed her to the piano. "There was that Gott- 
 schalk piece " 
 
 She ran her fingers lightly over the keyboard. "Yes, 
 that's it," he said. 
 
 Leaning on the piano, he watched her. The light from 
 the lamp fell full on her face; the down-turned lashes 
 veiled her eyes, but although the white fingers scampered 
 merrily enough, her features expressed no answering 
 emotion. In the midst of an unusually brilliant varia- 
 tion, she hesitated.
 
 166 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "I think I've forgotten the rest/' and Gottschalk 
 merged into Chopin. 
 
 For a few moments she played with new feeling and 
 ahandon ; then her hands stopped again upon the keys. 
 
 "I don't believe I am very musical," she said ca- 
 priciously, and arose. 
 
 Charlie started. "I never heard you play better." 
 
 She regarded him incredulously. 
 
 He drew at his cigar ; then held it out with a smile. 
 
 "Isn't this a convincing bit of evidence? It's gone 
 out." 
 
 Quickly she went to the mantel. " After such a com- 
 pliment 3 
 
 The sentence remained unfinished in words, but se- 
 lecting a match, she struck it and crossed to him. Above 
 the flame, he looked at her, and a sudden light seemed to 
 kindle his eyes ; their hands just touched. 
 
 "Thank you !" he said. 
 
 For some time Charlie lingered. He smoked not one, 
 but three cigars, and, although he exerted his own con- 
 versational powers, Elinor's vivacity of the earlier part 
 of the evening seemed to desert her. At length he arose. 
 
 "I must really be off," he said. "I left Tom Marks 
 waiting for me at the club." 
 
 Once on the street, however, the young man did not 
 show any disposition to hasten to his destination. He
 
 ELIXOR MAKES A RESOLUTION" 167 
 
 sauntered along slowly, his brows knit, switching now 
 and then absent-mindedly with his cane. The thought- 
 ful expression of his face changed by degrees to one of 
 irritation. His cane cut the air sharply. "I'll go there 
 no more/' he said suddenly, aloud, and with a quick, de- 
 cisive movement, he hastened his steps. 
 
 After Dalton had gone and Elinor returned to the 
 library, that lowness of spirits she had experienced before 
 he came seemed intensified. And with it came a certain 
 impatience. She looked at the clock; Richard Strong 
 was out later than usual. She wondered what he was 
 doing. The business conference must have been unusu- 
 ally important to have detained him so long. 
 
 In spite of the hour, she felt wakeful. Near the win- 
 dow the curtains moved slowly to and fro, as if some un- 
 seen hand were waving them to attract her attention. 
 She half -smiled, as the fantasy moved her ; then holding 
 her head a little higher in seeming disdain of ghostly 
 signs and tokens, she walked to the curtains and looped 
 them up. Immediately all portentous indications ceased ; 
 the room relapsed into its normal conditions, and with 
 its many shelves became simply a place for study and re- 
 flection. 
 
 Elinor, however, moving restlessly around the library, 
 looked with indifference, if not distaste, upon the pon- 
 derous volumes entombed in red levant or gilded calf. 
 Finally she paused with an air of dissatisfaction.
 
 168 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "I wonder what people do when they want to do 
 something and don't know how to do it," she thought im- 
 patiently, as she leaned against the arm of the leather 
 chair and mechanically turned over some engravings in 
 a portfolio on a stand before her. With scant interest 
 at first, her eye attracted while her mind remained afar, 
 she surveyed a medieval picture an armed man and a 
 maiden! The vizor of the former's helmet was down; 
 nothing could' be seen of his face. Beneath the engrav- 
 ing was written in script: 
 
 "Tine buckling on of the knight's armor by the lady's 
 hand was not a mere caprice of romantic fashion. It is 
 the type of an eternal truth " 
 
 Elinor fell casually to wondering what the man would 
 look like if the helmet should be removed and the war- 
 rior shorn of his iron suit. Would the face be handsome ; 
 the figure, a gallant one? A knight on his first quest, 
 perhaps with golden hair and chivalrous eyes ? Or would 
 there be revealed the countenance of the hardy, tried sol- 
 dier? 
 
 More likely the latter by the breadth of shoulder ! She 
 felt amused at the incongruity between the two figures in 
 this highly sentimental picture and then found herself 
 looking at her own hands. She wondered if it would be 
 very difficult to '^buckle on armor." The thought seized 
 her that the enigmatic iron shell might have hidden some 
 one like Eichard Strong!
 
 ELIXOK MAKES A RESOLUTION 169 
 
 She clasped her hands and looked away. That grim, 
 steel puzzle; the slender lady were they symbolical of 
 life ? How absurd ! She shut up the portfolio. 
 
 Sinking back into the chair, she closed her eyes. 
 
 "I suppose/' she told herself, "I might make myself, in 
 some degree or measure, useful to him !" And with the 
 thought came the conviction, that, however small or great 
 the result, she owed it to herself to act upon it. The tiny 
 monitor thrilled within her breast; pride whispered 
 hopeful possibilities. A sudden resolution animated her ; 
 her days need be no longer aimlessly wasted. She would 
 equip herself in knowledge; establish between her hus- 
 band and herself a bond of mutual helpfulness. Other 
 women had done so. Why could not she succeed? She 
 felt her limitations for the task, but at the moment they 
 seemed only a spur to her purpose. 
 
 And a sudden peace came over her or was it weari- 
 ness ? She vaguely realized that she was dozing, and did 
 not car,e; that the knight had begun to take off his hel- 
 met, but she could not see him because of a cloud. The 
 drooping of her head aroused her, and, with an effort, 
 she arose and went up stairs.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 ELINOR BREAKS A RESOLUTION 
 
 Secretly Elinor began to familiarize herself with 
 her husband's business; to study the history of the 
 great commercial highways; from reports she found 
 on his desk at the house; by judicious inquiry, 
 indeed, as best she might ! And studying all this, she 
 was unconsciously studying Eichard Strong. His nature 
 unfolded beneath her eyes as the manifold formation of 
 diatoms to the peering gaze of the microscopist. At 
 times, she admired ; again, wondered. A hand of velvet ; 
 an arm of iron ! The power to create ; the ability to con- 
 struct ! Was it all genius, or tenacity of purpose or is 
 the former but the latter? These surreptitious visits to 
 his study began to exercise a peculiar fascination over 
 her. 
 
 She was further stimulated in her self-imposed task 
 along these special lines by a wave of popular interest in 
 the problems of transportation. On every side predomi- 
 nated railroad talk ; leading articles in all the papers and 
 magazines devoted much space to the consideration of 
 170
 
 ELINOR BREAKS A RESOLUTION 171 
 
 that great achievement, the final opening of the first 
 highway from ocean to ocean. Even the impressionable 
 poets broke out in flowing, if not always metrically cor- 
 rect, measures : 
 
 "Kivet the last Pacific rail 
 With a silver hammer and a golden nail, 
 For over the hill and over the vale 
 The iron horse is swiftly coming. 
 
 Hail to the age of steam! 
 
 Hail to the iron team! 
 
 Hail to the iron bars! 
 
 Hail to our flag of stars!" 
 
 The days of fresh breezes had merged into a period of 
 somnolence; August, slothful, heavy, began to drag its 
 weary length along. The hot waking hours were suc- 
 ceeded by the sultry nights, when the languid air circu- 
 lated, close and oppressive, above the heated pavements. 
 
 On such a night or, at the twilight hour of such a 
 day Elinor was seated in her room near the window, 
 alternately engaged in reading and gazing dubiously 
 without. Over a patch of sky, visible from her window, 
 hung a dull bank of clouds which lightened and glowed, 
 and then grew dark again. This operation, repeated at 
 fairly regular intervals, lent a menacing aspect to the 
 heavens which was not even relieved by the reassuring 
 glimmer of a single star, the first to appear, set in the 
 lake of ether at the foot of the phosphorescent bank.
 
 172 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 But while her mind thus concerned itself with objec- 
 tive phenomena, her thoughts dwelt, also, upon a sub- 
 ject she knew Kichard Strong was then considering; a 
 very common problem, although not a very simple one, 
 in railroad management: how to keep the expenses of a 
 certain line from outrunning the revenue. She asked 
 herself what course he would pursue. First, probably, 
 would come repairs, and then new trains and tracks 
 and 
 
 "I can't understand it," she pondered. "Whenever 
 things seem to be running behind, he spends more mone}'. 
 That's the way mama used to do, and it didn't seem to 
 .answer at all." 
 
 She pursed her brow quizzically. "It must be that 
 railroad economy is different from domestic economy. 
 The more things we bought, the poorer we became." 
 
 She shook her head. There was no doubt of that. 
 Then her mouth relaxed. "If we could only have called 
 our debts bonds!" 
 
 "If" she was continuing to follow this train of fancy 
 when the voice of Mr. Strong in his study, reaching her 
 ears, abruptly interrupted the trend of futile imagining. 
 
 "Have I not told yon no one was to interfere with my 
 papers ?" 
 
 "I did not touch them, sir," she heard the servant 
 reply.
 
 ELINOR BREAKS A RESOLUTION 175 
 
 "One document is missing ! What has become of it ?" 
 
 Elinor dropped the book, a rush of blood tingling her 
 cheeks, and, rising hastily, went to her desk. Taking a 
 paper, tied with tape, from a pigeonhole, she stepped 
 into the hall and approached the door of the private 
 study. Richard Strong, with obvious annoyance, was 
 bending over his work-table; in the center of the room 
 stood the servant, expostulation and innocence written 
 on his face. 
 
 "Is this what you are looking for ?" 
 
 He took with some surprise the paper she handed him. 
 "Yes," he said. And to the servant : "You may go." 
 
 <C I did not know you felt that way about your 
 desk," she went on hurriedl}', when the man had disap- 
 peared. "Or I" she paused with heightened color. 
 
 "What I said was, of course, for the servant," he re- 
 turned. "If you" he stopped abruptly. "But why 
 what could you " 
 
 She laughed nervously, feeling almost like a child de- 
 tected in some covert act. "Maybe, I was a little curious 
 prying, you probably think it " 
 
 He made a quick, dissenting gesture. "Well, then call 
 it only curiosity. Perhaps" lightly "it interested me, 
 because it was tied up." 
 
 Still puzzled, he looked at her; then at the report. 
 The faintest perfume hung over it. That brief sojourn
 
 174 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 in a lady's boudoir had changed its character ; it seemed 
 to have become more personal and less documentary than 
 formerly; even the tape was tied in a bow-knot, emi- 
 nently feminine. What interest could she have in its 
 contents, technicalities pertaining to track inspection ; 
 the examination of bridges, grades and crossings; the 
 securing of connections eastward? 
 
 A glimmer of light in the heavens suddenly illumined 
 the room, and, following the flash, the dimness of the 
 waning day appeared abruptly turned into the darker 
 shadows of night. Her face for the moment was less dis- 
 cernible, but he had seen the half -falter ing look, empha- 
 sized by the unexpected irradiation. 
 
 "Do you think it is going to storm ?" she asked as, ris- 
 ing, he drew the curtains, and lighted the gas. 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 "It feels as though it might," she said, brushing back 
 the masses of hair from her moist forehead. Then 
 she walked to the window and peered out behind the 
 draperies. The vaporous bank had become a gloomy, sul- 
 len mountain; the lake glowed with a nameless, mys- 
 terious hue. In the silence, with something impending 
 in the heavens, she experienced a stronger need of human 
 companionship. Her secret aspirations became large in 
 her breast; the temptation to touch upon them grew in 
 the silence.
 
 ELINOR BREAKS A RESOLUTION 175 
 
 "Mama and I went to the Sorosis to-day/' she said 
 finally, without turning. 
 
 "The Sorosis !" he spoke tip quickly. 
 
 "Yes ; mama, you know, is now a member." 
 
 "And follower of Lucy Stone, Ernestine L. Rose and 
 Miss Anthony?" 
 
 "I don't know as she goes so far as that. I think 
 mama likes the excitement." She was silent a moment. 
 "Don't you believe in some of those things, yourself ?" 
 she asked vaguely. 
 
 He glanced at the girl ; her cheeks were flushed with 
 the warmth of the night; her eyes bright. His own gaze 
 was steady. 
 
 "I believe," he returned, "in Dr. Holmes' words : 'The 
 brain-women never interest us like the heart- women ; 
 white roses please less than the red !' " 
 
 She half-smiled. "Alice Gary should be here to answer 
 you in verse." 
 
 "I prefer prose," he said, returning to his report. 
 
 "You don't want, then, to see women striving ?" She 
 faced him with a little excitement in her manner. "To 
 be of greater service to themselves and to to others?" 
 She hesitated, disconcerted at having nearly betrayed her 
 purpose. She did not want him to know yet what 
 had been in her mind. "You disapprove," she added, 
 with forced lightness, "of the girl of the period ?"
 
 176 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 The mind of the man at the desk caught strongly at 
 her last words. "The Girl of the Period !" A cant phrase 
 on the street! Only that day the copy of a scurrilous 
 London paper had come into his hands; a sheet deserv- 
 edly lampooned by Mr. Greeley, or one of his editors. Be- 
 fore Mr. Strong's eyes flashed the cartoon : "The Croquet 
 Girl? "The Nautical Girl;" "The Girl of Finance!" A 
 puritanical strain in his nature revolted ; unwittingly he 
 thought with the old philosopher a woman's greatest 
 glory was to he little talked about. 
 
 " 'The girl of the period !' " he repeated dryly. "I 
 have no taste for her." 
 
 Her lip quivered a little; his coldness cut her; the 
 irony of his voice belittled those impulses that had stirred 
 her. She felt as if she had offered him something and 
 he had rejected the free gift curtly, bruskly ! Humility, 
 mingled, perhaps, with resentment, moved her. She bit 
 her lip and walked toward the door. 
 
 "You are very busy," she began, and would have gone, 
 when the forces of the storm without, marshaling their 
 energy, smote the heavens with a- sudden forked shaft of 
 living fire and followed this fierce onslaught with a 
 mighty reverberation. 
 
 Before Elinor knew it she was at Eichard Strong's 
 side. The deafening waves of sound ceased and died 
 away. Silence, ominous, followed; she waited; it re-
 
 ELINOE BEEAKS A RESOLUTION 177 
 
 mained unbroken; then the rain pattered against the 
 blinds. 
 
 Involuntarily he had arisen to meet that unconscious 
 movement. She stood near him now, half -turned, listen- 
 ing to the rush of rain. Out of some cloud that had hung 
 over him long it seemed flashes of light appeared to 
 break. "White roses or red ?" She wore a bunch of the 
 latter in her gown. He put out his hands swiftly, almost 
 fiercely, but at that moment she stepped suddenly toward 
 the window. 
 
 "I felt sure a storm was coming/' she said, uncon- 
 scious of his gesture. 
 
 He made no reply. Intentional or instinctive, her 
 movement was typical. An abrupt anger consumed him ; 
 that momentary loss of self-command told heavily upon 
 his pride. His hands fell .to his side. Eed roses might 
 please most, but he thought of the figure of a beggar 
 he had seen in London staring through the bars at the 
 inaccessible flowers of a park that was closed to him. 
 He, a 
 
 She was looking at him again ; his manner was strange, 
 and she laughed nervously. 
 
 "Don't you think you are a little unjust?" she re- 
 marked half-wistfully. 
 
 "To whom ?" A spark flashed from his eyes to hers. 
 
 "To why, the ladies of the Sorosis !"
 
 178 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "I don't know anything about the ladies of the Soro- 
 sis," he replied, "or what their professions may be. I 
 was referring to women who leave the duties of their own 
 sex to invade the privileges of the other." 
 
 Her cheek grew cold; the sound of the rain mingled 
 with the whirl of her thoughts. She held herself inflex- 
 ible; all the softness had gone from her glance. 
 
 "The privileges of the other!" she said. "Getting 
 money, you mean ?" 
 
 "If you care to draw that inference!" he returned 
 calmly. 
 
 "Is there any other ?" she asked carelessly. 
 
 Only that strong earliest dislike, the first promptings 
 of her nature at the sight of him, now moved her. She 
 laughed lightly; then laughed a little louder when she 
 saw his cheek flush at her words. That she had the 
 power to wound him gave her, in her moment of humilia- 
 tion, a novel pleasure. Had he not misinterpreted her, 
 misjudged her, pressed upon her shoulder the great 
 weight of his bounty? She breathed deeply as if to lift 
 it from her, but could not. The longing to go somewhere 
 away possessed her. 
 
 "How warm it is !" she exclaimed impatiently. "New 
 York is becoming very uncomfortable." 
 
 "I must soon go west," he spoke up slowly, "and if 
 you"
 
 ELINOR BREAKS A RESOLUTION 179 
 
 "West !" she interrupted blankly. 
 
 "If you and Mr. and Mrs. Rossiter desire to go to the 
 sea-shore or to the mountains/' he continued, "there is no 
 reason why you should not do so." 
 
 Her look of sudden acquiescence did not escape him. 
 
 "I shall be away for some time," he continued, "and 
 you can make your plans to suit yourselves. Even when 
 I have returned, yon need not feel bound to gage your 
 movements by mine." 
 
 "Very well," she said quickly. And at the door: "I 
 will see mama to-morrow." 
 
 In her room an unnatural calmness replaced all other 
 emotions in her breast. Without, the rain had ceased, but 
 from the blinds the water dripped monotonously. Above, 
 the heaven was alight with stars, shining with new-born 
 luster. Afar sounded a faint rumble and roar, like the 
 distant bombardment of a beleaguered city. 
 
 "Simpleton !" she told herself. "Simpleton !" 
 
 The knight and the lady ! she had only hurt her fin- 
 gers on the buckles of the armor.
 
 CHAPTEE XVI 
 
 ME. DALTON TAKES A SUDDEN RESOLUTION 
 
 When Charlie told Elinor that his going into 
 Kichard Strong's office had meant much to him, 
 he had in mind the good fortune that had 
 followed him since he had procured employment with 
 that financier. In the beginning his position at the of- 
 fice had been difficult to define. The first week his ser- 
 vices had not been greatly in demand; he had had the 
 choice of drumming his fingers idly on his desk in the 
 little room assigned to him,, or perusing some of the 
 financial literature, law-books or industrial pamphlets to 
 be found in the office library. He chose the latter, and 
 his mind, naturally retentive, lent itself readily to the 
 consideration of the work of the professional corporation 
 statistician. Leaning back in his chair, his equanimity 
 was in no wise disturbed by the sputtering of pens, the 
 hurrying of feet and the general air of activity around 
 him. Wrapped in such enticing fancies as these facts 
 and descriptions evoked financial castles in the air ho 
 looked upon the mercurial figures passing his door with 
 stoical and philosophical gravity. 
 180
 
 A SUDDEX RESOLUTION 181 
 
 But one day Mr. Strong entered the young man's of- 
 fice, in his hand a number of papers and reports. Charlie 
 put down a red-covered volume and arose. Kichard 
 Strong looked from the discarded book to Dalton. 
 
 "I have been somewhat at a loss what to give you to 
 do/' he said. "It has always been my endeavor to fit a 
 man into the niche where he belongs." Charlie bowed, 
 but did not answer, and the other laid the papers he car- 
 ried on the young man's desk. "Look these over; the 
 matter is self-explanatory. When you have studied it 
 thoroughly, submit your conclusions." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," replied Dalton. "I'll do my best." 
 And as Mr. Strong turned away, he closed the door and 
 bent with avidity to the work. 
 
 The devising of ways and means for harmonizing cer- 
 tain small, but conflicting interests that was the prob- 
 lem the other had set before him to solve. It was neither 
 very difficult nor very easy, but the task was to Charlie's 
 liking, and, as he proceeded, a sparkle of excitement 
 came into his eyes. Lightly he disentangled the skein; 
 deftly adjusted the threads. With care he formulated 
 his plan, put it on paper as concisely as possible, and then 
 submitted it to Mr. Strong, who considered it, said noth- 
 ing, but to the young man's satisfaction, adopted it. 
 
 Thereafter Dalton's position brought him into a rela- 
 tionship, more or less personal, with the head of the
 
 182 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 house. He was not exactly a private secretary or a 
 clerk, although he performed the duties of both when 
 required. He was industrious, willing, had already ac- 
 quired useful information during his experience in the 
 Street, and to his work brought the best efforts of a keen 
 and active brain. 
 
 But Dalton, although zealous for others when it served 
 his end, had never had the intention of confining his ex- 
 ertions solely to his employer's interests. The idea of 
 self too strongly predominated. To enrich that self; to 
 advance that self ; to make that self a power among men ! 
 He had before him the encouraging example of Jim 
 Jubilee. What had that gentleman amounted to when 
 he had only slaved for Daniel Drew? But how had he 
 risen when he had "struck out for himself" ! 
 
 Chance, before long, brought to Charlie the coveted op- 
 portunity, if not to emulate that striking and picturesque 
 precedent, at least in some degree to promote his own in- 
 dividual fortunes. One noon, having left the office, he 
 had but turned into a side thoroughfare, when a voice ac- 
 costed him from a neighboring doorway. 
 
 "Hello, Dalton !" And a soft, chubby hand was thrust 
 into his. Charlie stopped. The man represented one of 
 the many varieties of the genus broker, and was face- 
 tiously known as the "Jolly Boy," his establishment being 
 a pleasant place at which to spend an hour at noon, or
 
 A SUDDEN RESOLUTION 183 
 
 after the close of the business day. His hospitality had 
 won him a certain clientage of inahstinent spirits who 
 helped themselves to the choice cigars or the excellent 
 lunch set forth in the private office for their benefit. 
 
 "How do you do ?" returned Dalton, somewhat coldly. 
 
 He knew that in the course of his brief connection with 
 the Street he had been introduced to the other on some 
 occasion,, but did not remember just when or where. 
 
 "Heard you'd gone into Bichard Strong's office/' went 
 on the broker, and Dalton nodded. "Can you give me a 
 few moments ? I want to have a talk with you." 
 
 Charlie looked surprised. "Well," he said, hesitating, 
 "I haven't much time to spare." 
 
 "Won't take but a minute," was the reassuring re- 
 sponse. And leading the way to a private office, back of 
 a number of main offices, he motioned his visitor to a 
 chair. A darky who wore an apron and a smile that 
 seemed a reflex of the Jolly Boy's, appeared from some 
 recess and stood before them in an expectant manner. 
 
 "Have a little lobster salad and a glass of sauterne," 
 urged the broker. 
 
 "N"o, thanks," returned Charlie. "I don't care for 
 anything." 
 
 His tone left no room for argument or persuasion, and 
 the broker was too keen a judge of people to press his
 
 184 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 hospitable invitation. With an airy wave of his hand be 
 dismissed the dusky servitor. 
 
 "All right," he said, and his manner changed; the 
 spirit of the loving-cup gave way on his countenance to 
 an expression of business; his face grew sober. "What 
 I wanted to say is this : just drop in when you feel like 
 it." Dalton looked at him quickly. "And if you should 
 hear of a good thing, a dead sure thing" speaking 
 slowly and with a peculiar emphasis "come to me. I'm 
 not a niggardly sort of a chap and well, you won't have 
 to put up anything. You can have what credit you 
 want." 
 
 The young man's gaze became suddenly veiled ; unre- 
 sponsive. He did not reply at once. 
 
 "I'll think of it," he said at length, ambiguously. 
 
 The Jolly Boy did not press the subject, but relapsed 
 again into his urbane self. 
 
 "Heard the story about Travers and the Fisk-Gould 
 yacht?" he asked. "No? Well, Jim was showing Trav- 
 ers over it the other day. In the cabin, on either side, 
 are two portraits, one of Jim and one of Gould. 'What 
 do you think of them ?' says Jim. 'Very g-g-good !' says 
 Travers, holding his head like a cock-sparrow. 'Only one 
 c-c-criticism to make !' 'Whaf s that ?' says Jim, innocent- 
 like. 'To complete the effect, there should be a p-p-pic- 
 ture of our Saviour in the m-m-middle !' savs Travers."
 
 A SUDDEN RESOLUTION" 185 
 
 Dalton laughed and pushed back his oftair. "Well, I 
 must be off/' he said, and the other accompanied him to 
 the door. 
 
 When, several weeks later, the young man reappeared 
 at the office of the Jolly Boy, that person did not con- 
 ceal his gratification, and shook him warmly by the hand. 
 
 "Sell me a thousand Yellow Dragon at one hundred 
 and eighty or thereabouts," said Charlie, quietly. 
 
 The broker opened his eyes. To the purchaser at par, 
 the stock of Oriental Mail as it was known in the 
 papers of incorporation represented a profit of over 
 nine hundred per cent., including yearly dividends of 
 twenty per cent. What did Dalton mean by selling such 
 a valuable property? 
 
 "Lord, man, what is it ?" he said. 
 
 "Arrangements are being perfected for a competing 
 corporation. The Dragon has been shamefully abused 
 and" significantly "the new organization will be a 
 sort of St. George." 
 
 "That is worth knowing," returned the broker, eagerly. 
 "You are sure quite sure?" 
 
 "What do you think?" 
 
 "I think you're in a position to know/' said the other, 
 with decision. A moment he looked thoughtful. "I'll 
 tell you what I'll do," he said slowly. "We must keep it
 
 186 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 very quiet and I'll make you partner in a two-thou- 
 sand-share deal." 
 
 Dalton consented; the stock was sold; in a week it 
 registered at one hundred and seventy. 
 
 "Just as you said it would/' remarked the Jolly Boy, 
 with real or affected admiration in his tone. "You're a 
 born speculator, sir ! Got all the attributes. Mark my 
 words, sir, and, when the time comes" laying his hand 
 in a fatherly manner on Charlie's shoulder "remember 
 it was me me who told you so." 
 
 To these subtle shafts of flattery Dalton did not re- 
 spond as the other expected. 
 
 "You can buy back my thousand now and I'll take my 
 profits," he said. 
 
 "Aren't you just a leetle cautious?" ventured the 
 other. 
 
 Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "We have both made 
 money. As far as I am concerned, our deal is at an end." 
 
 "All right," returned the Jolly Boy. "You can walk 
 right up to the captain's office and get your check," and 
 smiled brigUly. ^ 
 
 But Dalton had no intention of deserting the Yellow 
 Dragon yet by any means. It had occurred to him, how- 
 ever, that he might better keep his operations quiet by 
 trading at many places, and he also preferred entirely to 
 sever his connection with the Jolly Boy now that he was
 
 A SUDDEN KESOLUTION 187 
 
 in a position to do without him. Accordingly he divided 
 his profits among various other brokers. The Yellow 
 Dragon came crashing down to one hundred and fifty. 
 Dalton had first doubled,, then trebled his short sales; 
 his earnings now were large. 
 
 "Buy in !" whispered expediency. 
 
 Charlie set his teeth and continued to sell. Twenty- 
 four hours thereafter, the annual report of the company 
 was given to the public. The directors, having long ago 
 disposed of their holdings, now in a spasm of dilatory 
 honesty showed assets marked down, giving the stock an 
 intrinsic value of one hundred and ten. Following this 
 frank, though tardy, exposition of the Dragon's enfeebled 
 and crippled condition, the entire Street turned upon the 
 languishing and broken monster. Dalton bought back in 
 the neighborhood of one hundred and twenty all the stock 
 he had sold and retired from the arena. 
 
 The next day Charlie discovered the wise and discern- 
 ing rumor-mongers had fairly ferreted out his own part 
 in the running contest, and, as he made his way to the 
 office, he was several times stopped and congratulated. 
 But one man he encountered the Jolly Boy had no 
 words of compliment for him. The jovial one's expres- 
 sion was funereal, saturnine; he held his chubby hand 
 tight behind his back.
 
 188 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "So ?" he said, "you're the kind of a partner that isn't 
 a partner." 
 
 In spite of his coolness, Charlie flushed. 
 
 "I don't understand you," he said. 
 
 "We started in together; you made use of me; then 
 played it alone. You 'covered' at my place, but kept on 
 increasing your short interest elsewhere. It deceived me 
 and I bought all the way down." 
 
 Charlie smiled deprecatorily. "I didn't deceive you," 
 he answered warmly. "I had no intention of deceiving 
 you. You deceived yourself. I left you with a profit. 
 If you did not take it, I can't see what fault it is of mine. 
 I told you our deal was at an end. It never occurred to 
 me that you would place such a construction on what I 
 did." 
 
 The chubby hand tightened into a chubby fist; the 
 rubicund face became apoplectic. 
 
 "All right !" he said. "You used me and dumped me. 
 You've made a lump sum and an enemy. It's a bad way 
 to start in Wall Street." 
 
 Dalton tuned. "When you come to think it over, you 
 will exonerate me from all blame," he replied, and dis- 
 missed the incident from his mind. 
 
 As he entered the office he wondered whether Eichard 
 Strong had heard of his operations in Yellow Dragon 
 and how that gentleman would regard them.
 
 A SUDDEN EESOLUTION 189 
 
 "Mr. Strong has been asking for you, sir," said Tim 
 Taplin, as Charlie unlocked his desk. 
 
 "Now for it !" thought the young man. 
 
 But to his surprise the financier evinced no disposition 
 to touch upon Oriental Mail ; his one desire seemed to be 
 to expedite certain present plans of his own. His man- 
 ner was abstracted ; before him lay a railroad time-table. 
 Finally he swung around from his desk and Charlie 
 
 "One moment, Dalton." The young man lingered ex- 
 pectant. Would Mr. Strong attempt to take him to task ? 
 To his surprise the other said : "I am going away out 
 west !" 
 
 "When do you expect to return ?" 
 
 "I can't say just when." He was silent a moment. 
 "Mrs. Strong is going to Newport. If she should want 
 anything, I wish you would see that it is attended to." 
 
 "Certainty, Mr. Strong," said the young man, quickly. 
 "I will be of any service I can. 5 ' 
 
 As Dalton some time later left the building, a carriage 
 drew up near by. Upon the back seat were two actresses 
 and from the vehicle descended no less a person than the 
 doughty prince of peddlers, "the oiled and curled As- 
 syrian bull of Wall Street," Mr. Fisk. This individual 
 paused a moment to speak with one of the ladies, the 
 blonde queen of a burlesque troupe, and as he did so, his
 
 190 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 gaze fell on Charlie. He had met that young man only 
 once, but the news of success travels quickly, and Mr. 
 Fisk who never forgot a face unless he wished to now 
 not only nodded to Mr. Dalton, but turned to speak with 
 him. 
 
 "Good for you, Dalton!" he said. "If you keep on, 
 we'll have to make you a director in Erie. I was telling 
 these ladies about you, and one of them" with a wave 
 of his bejeweled fingers toward the dark, black-eyed 
 young woman who sat by the side of the fair lady "had 
 just expressed a desire to see you. You have probably 
 heard of her the peerless, the incomparable Zol 
 
 Charlie raised his eyes to the lady indicated and all 
 thoughts of the Yellow Dragon and stocks vanished. 
 Mechanically he lifted his hat. 
 
 "I am flattered," he said. And then: "Excuse me, 
 please some important business " And quickly turn- 
 ing into the press of the crowd, he hurried unceremoni- 
 ously away. 
 
 The Prince of Erie looked after him with growing 
 wonder. The dark lady began to laugh. She was won- 
 derfully dressed in the latest Parisian style, with a fan- 
 tastic hat poised most bewitchingly upon her black hair. 
 Her tiny hand held an enormous bouquet and in her ears 
 sparkled large diamonds. Her laughter was low, mu- 
 sical, unconventional.
 
 A SUDDEN KESOLTJTIOX 191 
 
 "I don't see what there is to laugh about/' said Mr. 
 Fisk. 
 
 "Nothing," answered the dark lady, with a pronounced 
 French accent. "Only it was too anms-ing!" and 
 laughed again. 
 
 At dinner that night, Charlie was unusually thought- 
 ful. Despite his sudden comparative affluence his flow 
 of spirits seemed to have suffered a temporary check. 
 The game-bird was too high ; the wine suggested tincture 
 of logwood; his cigar burned inperfectly and the band 
 played too loudly. Even to that sprightly and popular 
 selection, Shoo Fly, Don't Bodder Me! he listened with 
 a bored and weary expression. Mr. Marks could not fail 
 to observe his changed demeanor, and after a vain en- 
 deavor to promote his companion's good humor, re- 
 marked : 
 
 "Charlie, you look run down. You need a change; a 
 vacation !" 
 
 Dalton's face brightened somewhat. 
 
 "By Jove, I believe you're right, Torn/"' he said sud- 
 denly, after a moment of silence. "I'll take a few days 
 as soon as I can. Narragansett the races Goldsmith's 
 Maid India Eubber and Daisy Burns what do you say 
 to that?" 
 
 "But Charlie"
 
 192 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 "JSTonse'nse, old chap ! You've got to come, too, and 
 that settles it." 
 
 "But," again expostulated Tom, "playing the horses 
 isn't much better than " 
 
 "Oh, well," laughed Dalton, rather queerly, "if we feel 
 the need of a nice, tranquil spot, there's sleepy Newport, 
 right next door."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DANCE 
 
 <r You darling !" 
 
 Posie Stanton, all lace, muslin and flowers,, rushed 
 toward Elinor, as the latter, preceding Mr. and Mrs. 
 Eossiter, and a man with luggage, descended the gang- 
 way of the boat from New York, and now stood upon 
 the wharf before old Newport town. 
 
 "Really, my dear !" expostulated Mrs. Rossiter, as Miss 
 Stanton, turning from her girl-friend, impetuously flew 
 to that startled but worthy lady. 
 
 "Won't you let Elinor drive up to the hotel with me ?" 
 swiftly went on Posie, after the greetings were over. "I 
 came down with my cart and " 
 
 "Go along, then, at once !" laughed Mr. Rossiter, good- 
 naturedly. "Your mother and I will follow in a few 
 moments," in answer to his daughter's look. "Of 
 course you've so much to tell it won't keep." 
 
 Mr. Rossiter looked approvingly after them, while Mrs. 
 Rossiter readjusted her India shawl and ruffled Mechlin 
 laces not without some show of ruffled composure. 
 193
 
 194 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 Through throngs of tourists and summer visitors Posie 
 and Elinor pushed their way to where, near the wharf, 
 stood an English dog-cart, with a tandem team. Enter- 
 ing this vehicle, which attracted some attention, not al- 
 together commendatory, from the year-round dwellers 
 in the narrow streets near the wharves, Miss Stanton 
 grasped the reins, and they were 'whirled along past the 
 quaint, old-time houses into the newer part of the town ; 
 thence onward across the southern portion of the island, 
 dotted here and there with modest cottages. The beach 
 lay white before them, shimmering near-by in sandy rip- 
 ples left by the receding tide ; afar, gulls with lazy wings 
 cleft the mists that curled torpidly around the isle. 
 
 "How delightful of Mr. Strong to let you come here, 
 instead of dragging you out west among the Indians and 
 the cow-boys !" said Miss Stanton, beaming upon her 
 friend. "So many men insist upon taking their wives 
 with them everywhere like the rest of their luggage !" 
 
 Elinor's gaze seemed suddenly to be directed far out 
 on the ocean, and she murmured some vague reply. "But 
 you haven't told me yet who is here ?" she added, turning. 
 
 "Quite a number of people you know," replied Posie, 
 as they approached the hotel. "Mrs. Fanning 'It was 
 at my house dear Elinor first met Mr. Strong!' Miss 
 Webber, and her dogs; the Vanderhoffs she's going to
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DANCE 195 
 
 get a divorce Miss Garnett who asks often about you 
 you must know her very well !" 
 
 "I knew an eye at a window, or peeping through half- 
 closed shutters, if that could be called an acquain- 
 tance !" 
 
 Posie nodded comprehensively. "Yes; she said she 
 lived opposite you! Then there's the Eeverend 
 Doctor Clement, and as for the rest of them" drawing 
 the cart up closely before the door "you must see for 
 yourself !" 
 
 Thereafter time lagged not. Though her moods were 
 often variable Elinor's capacity for enjoyment seemed to 
 grow with the indulgence she permitted herself. Mr. 
 Eossiter watched her with meditative eyes, but Mrs. Ros- 
 siter looked on with unqualified approval. To her it was 
 quite proper and to be expected that Elinor should take 
 her place in society, grasp at its pastimes and seize upon 
 its pleasures. 
 
 One morning about a fortnight after their arrival, 
 Elinor and Miss Stanton were driving near the beach 
 where many persons were sunning themselves in cos- 
 tumes the antithesis to the Greek idea of chaste and ap- 
 propriate drapery. Here if beauty was sacrificed, mod- 
 esty, at any rate, did not suffer, for the expansive mate- 
 rial distorted the figures of the wearers until no trace 
 of the "human form divine" was discernible even to the
 
 19G BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 lively imagination. Children, as unsymmetrical in line 
 and outline as their elders miniature counterparts in 
 pantalets and ample blouses of their mothers and their 
 aunts played upon the shining strand. An umbrella, 
 lying open upon the beach, presumably shaded a sleeping 
 old gentleman, or perhaps, screened from general view 
 an engaged, or newly wedded pair. 
 
 Suddenly Elinor, who was driving, drew in the reins. 
 As the cart came to a standstill, Miss Stanton perceived 
 two masculine figures, not garbed for the sea, but in con- 
 ventional business attire, outlined in the sunshine against 
 the sand dune. 
 
 The "rainbow hat" on Posie's head nodded once or 
 twice a flowery beacon for wayfarers out of their reck- 
 oning on that sandy stretch ! The signal was seen and 
 answered and the couple drew near with evidence of re- 
 ciprocal recognition; the foremost swinging a switch 
 cane; the other holding his "cedar-berry" gloves very 
 primly in his left hand ! 
 
 "Glad to see you, Elinor !" exclaimed the taller of the 
 two, his eyes lighting with unmistakable pleasure. 
 
 She extended her hand. 
 
 "And Miss Stanton you are here, too?" 
 
 "Yes," said Elinor. "It was Posie's persuasive let- 
 ters that induced me to come to Newport. But where 
 did you drop from?"
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DANCE 197 
 
 "From Narragansett." 
 
 "Oh, the races ! I should have known that." 
 
 "I didn't know vou were of sporting proclivities, Mr. 
 Marks," observed Posie, directing her glance upon that 
 person, who held himself reluctantly back in the shadow 
 of Dalton. 
 
 Mr. Marks blushed ingenuously, while Charlie 
 laughed. 
 
 "Tom can pick a winner with the best of them," he 
 said. "When Loiterer was a ten-to-one shot he looked 
 her over. 'There's knee-action,' says he, 'and' wind and 
 heart for a rally !' Sure enough, Loiterer came down the 
 stretch like a rocket, and was first at the finish." 
 
 "Dear me !" remarked Posie. The limpid eyes shone 
 with unqualified admiration for the discerning Mr. 
 Marks, who shifted uneasily. 
 
 "ReaHy, you mustn't believe " 
 
 "But the races at Narragansett do not explain your 
 presence here, Charlie," said Elinor. 
 
 "Just thought we would run over for a change I" His 
 gaze lingered on her. The slanting rays of the sun kissed 
 her cheek; beneath her chin a ribbon fluttered in the 
 breeze from the sea. "Besides, Tom was tired of win- 
 ning." 
 
 "Now, you might have said you ran over to see us !"
 
 198 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 put in Posie. "Although we haven't any races to offer 
 you here." 
 
 "I dare say you have amusements equally diverting. 
 You may not have trotting but " 
 
 "We have gallops/' interrupted Elinor. 
 
 "Exactly !" he laughed, and again regarded her. 
 
 She drew in the reins. 
 
 "Why don't you and Mr. Marks come to the dance at 
 the hotel to-night ?" urged Posie. 
 
 Charlie looked from her to Elinor. 
 
 "Shall we?" he asked. 
 
 She flecked the horse tentatively with the whip. 
 
 "Pm afraid it will be very dull after Xarragansett !" 
 
 "But if we want to chance it?" 
 
 "In that case, I don't suppose any one would prevent 
 you," she answered, and the vehicle sped on. 
 
 "What did you tell her about my picking Loiterer 
 for?" 
 
 The Shadow's tone was actually aggressive. 
 
 "Eh?" said Charlie, absently. 
 
 "You heard what she said " 
 
 Dalton turned. "Pshaw, Tom. Haven't you learned 
 yet that it's not what a woman says but what she 
 thinks?" 
 
 That night as Elinor stood in the center of a little 
 group, Dalton entered the ball-room. Apparently he
 
 A^ LNTEHKTJPTED DAXCE 199 
 
 caught sight of her at once, for he started in her direc- 
 tion, only to pause, not far distant, as if deterred from 
 approaching nearer by a circle of black coats. But as 
 he stopped she met his glance ; the hesitation vanished 
 from his manner and he stepped forward quickly. 
 
 "So you did conclude to come?" she said, giving him 
 her hand. Her voice was gay; her eyes shone brightly. 
 
 "Couldn't stay away," he answered in the same tone. 
 
 For a few moments he lingered, involved in the intri- 
 cacies of a sprightly, general conversation, and then, 
 after some laughing excuse from her, found himself 
 walking away, conscious of a light touch on his arm and 
 of certain looks of disappointment that followed them. 
 
 "Did you see that ?" Seated in a corner, commanding 
 an outlook of ball-room and veranda, Miss Garnett, Ar- 
 gus-eyed, had been critically observing the company of 
 dancers in general and Elinor and her companion in par- 
 ticular. "She" used to be Miss Eossiter." Her voice was 
 full of significance as she turned to a lady seated next 
 to her. "No dower ! You understand ? The young man 
 is a sort of relative, I think " Here her voice lowered 
 discreetly, and the rest was lost in the ready ear of the 
 listener. "But a match was out of the question, of 
 course!" she added. "Mrs. Kossiter was too ambitious 
 for that!"
 
 200 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 "Where/' asked the recipient of this information, "is 
 Mr. Strong?" 
 
 "Out west !" returned Miss Garnett, with a sweet smile 
 and a sweeter accent. 
 
 Unmindful of the interest they excited in the breasts 
 of these good ladies, Elinor and Charlie paused a little 
 apart from the vortex of moving figures. He looked 
 across the floor, his manner preoccupied and thoughtful. 
 
 "They are trying their best to enjoy themselves," he 
 finally observed. 
 
 "Trying !" she repeated. Then added : "Who was it 
 said that to pursue joy was to lose it ?" 
 
 "Some one who tried the game, I guess," answered 
 Charlie. 
 
 His glance swung to her. The slight disorder of the 
 brown curls seemed to bid defiance to those purely sub- 
 jective and inward joys sung by the philosophers; the 
 brilliancy of her eyes lighted a spark in his. 
 
 "What do you say to a dance, Elinor?" 
 
 "After such cynicism " 
 
 "I retract most humbly," he interposed quickly, and 
 together they glided over the floor. f 
 
 As the exhilarating rhythm of the music made itself 
 felt, Charlie's face lost its half -moody look of the earlier 
 part of the evening. Several times they circled the 
 room.
 
 AN INTEEEUPTED DANCE 201 
 
 "By Jove, you can dance I" he said at length. 
 
 "How nattering!" she retorted, her quick breath 
 touching his cheek. He looked down at her and in- 
 voluntarily his arm tightened when in the press of 
 people they were brought to an abrupt and rather violent 
 standstill by colliding with another couple. 
 
 Laughing, she released herself; at her feet lay sev- 
 eral violets torn from her gown. 
 
 "I'm afraid, Charlie, I can't return your compliment." 
 
 Secretly annoyed, he stooped for the flowers. 
 
 "Then you don't want to finish the dance ?" 
 
 As he spoke the music stopped. 
 
 "It has finished itself," she answered, and placed a 
 hand on his arm. 
 
 "Where now?" he asked. 
 
 "Anywhere." 
 
 He led her to the door and together they stepped upon 
 the veranda. From the clatter of voices within to the 
 comparative quietude without, was a tranquilizing 
 change. For a moment Elinor stood, listening to the 
 assuaging voices of the night, and facing the breeze with 
 garments sweeping behind her. The air was full of rust- 
 lings, a strange crooning lullaby, running like a melody 
 above an undertone. 
 
 "You don't find it too cool ?" 
 
 She did not answer and he raised the violets; inhaled
 
 202 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 them, watching her the while. The pale dimness from 
 the myriad jets in the sky bathed her face, chastening yet 
 revealing it to the young man's steadfast glance. In 
 contrast to the gaiety of but a short time before, her 
 expression now was sober, thoughtful. Many questions 
 that had vaguely assailed him returned with redoubled 
 force. 
 
 "Mr. Strong is coming back soon ?" 
 
 Did she start? 
 
 "I haven't heard," she replied, and sank down into a 
 shair. 
 
 "What ! doesn't he say anything about it in his 
 letters?" 
 
 "No ; he hasn't referred to it in his letters." 
 
 An indefinable subtlety of tone puzzled Charlie. 
 Standing near the rail he lighted a cigar and smoked 
 meditatively, striking the ashes frequently from the 
 weed. 
 
 "Nor has he said anything about when he would be 
 home in his letters to the office," observed Dalton. ."Be- 
 fore I left, people kept dropping in. What was he 
 doing? What consolidation was brewing?" 
 
 He saw her fingers intertwine. 
 
 "Why ?" she asked. "Does his being away make such 
 a difference ?" 
 
 "Because in his absence the little fellows are all out
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DANCE 203 
 
 of their reckoning ! Afraid of their own shadows !" 
 laughed Dalton. 
 
 Elinor laughed too ! "I dare say they miss him very 
 much." 
 
 He regarded her quickly. "Yes; almost as much as 
 you do " 
 
 "Only in a different way !" 
 
 The words sprang from her lips in spite of herself, 
 half -lightly, half -mockingly. From his point of vantage 
 Charlie detected a new expression on her face. What 
 did it mean? A sudden glimpse of Mrs. Rossi ter 
 tnrough the open window completed the picture. That 
 good lady, majestically waving a fan, as waving aside 
 all sentimental nonsense, was the World! 
 
 Charlie crushed the violets in his hand. 
 
 "I was right," he thought. "She was sacrificed, after 
 all." 
 
 And something indefinite became definite within Dai- 
 ton's breast. It flamed up like fire. With a quick ges- 
 ture he threw his cigar savagely from him, and, wheel- 
 ing around, looked away, out into the darkness. 
 
 At that moment the music began to play and she arose. 
 "Shall we go in?" 
 
 Charlie started; turned. "If you" he strove to 
 modulate his voice to its conventional character "will 
 give me this dance."
 
 204 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 She brushed her hand lightly across her eyes as she 
 preceded him through the long, open window ; then faced 
 him with a smile. "With pleasure, of course. I feel 
 just like dancing to-night."
 
 BOOK II
 
 BOOK II 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MR. STRONG RETURNS 
 
 The Hudson Eiver train drew up noisily in the 
 great terminal depot, and, among the first to 
 alight, was a stalwart man, carrying a grip, who 
 walked quickly through the smoke, past the panting 
 monster, toward the entrance. Confronted by those 
 persons awaiting the arriving passengers at the end of 
 the long platform, the man almost eagerly scanned 
 that miniature sea of faces. A comprehensive look, but 
 amid the expressive countenances whereon was written 
 every variety of expectant emotion, he apparently did 
 not find some one he sought ! His footsteps slackened ; 
 again he scrutinized the throng men, women and chil- 
 dren, smiling, beaming, some even waving handker- 
 chiefs and hands at the incoming people then pushed 
 his way through the assembled crowd. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Strong ?" At the same time a 
 hand took the grip. 
 
 207
 
 208 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Very well, James. Mrs. Strong got my telegram 
 from Albany?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. This way to the carriage, sir." 
 
 Mr. Strong followed the man to the curb, gazing 
 sharply toward the carriage as if he thought some one 
 might be there inside perhaps. But the carriage was 
 empty he saw that very plainly when the man threw 
 open the door and, as Richard Strong entered, his face, 
 bronzed by the winds of the plains, expressed a trace of 
 feeling. Disappointment? He would not acknowledge 
 it, nor would he permit himself to analyze any intrusive 
 emotion. Drawing an evening paper from his pocket 
 with seeming unconcern he began to read by the failing 
 light. 
 
 As they drove on, the familiar hum of the city failed 
 to arrest his attention and it was not until the carriage 
 stopped that he looked up, folded the paper and thrust 
 it into his coat. Ascending the front steps of his home 
 he felt for his keys, but found that he had misplaced 
 them and rang the bell. For some moments he waited 
 and was about to pull the knob again, when the door 
 was opened not by her although she met him in the 
 hall whether accidentally, or purposely, he could not 
 tell. She had been coming from a room and at sight 
 of him paused. With a start he conceded how her beauty 
 had unfolded, and yet Mentally he compared the
 
 ME. STKONG KETUKNS 209 
 
 expression on her face with the expressions on those 
 other faces at the depot and his own countenance re- 
 laxed; he smiled grimly, while certain larger emotions, 
 bred in nature's vaster western amphitheater during the 
 past few months, became dwarfed, belittled. 
 
 "You are looking well," he said. 
 
 "So every one says," she answered, confident, self- 
 poised. "Was your trip successful?" 
 
 "Quite!" he answered laconically, and dropped her 
 hand. 
 
 "Your telegram came but a short time before your 
 train. We are having a little company to-night. It was 
 too late to change any plans." 
 
 "I would not have you do that," he returned. 
 
 He now noticed the house was brilliantly lighted; 
 that she was attired in something light, indescribable, 
 and looked fresh, white, with touches of color in her 
 cheeks, like the tints of delicate roses. He felt dusty, 
 tired, with the complexion of a ranchman. Abruptly 
 he turned, started up the stairway, only to experience a 
 revulsion of feeling. Gazing down, their glances met. 
 At first she drew back, so dark was his look, then re- 
 turned it proudly, almost mockingly. A moment the 
 vision of her slender figure grew upon him. 
 
 "You enjoyed yourself at Newport?" 
 
 "Very much."
 
 210 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 Closing his hand hard he went on to his room. 
 
 Some time later a servant knocked timidly at his 
 door. 
 
 "Mrs. Strong wants to know if you will soon be ready 
 to come down." 
 
 He responded perfunctorily and in a few moments re- 
 paired to the drawing-room where he found assembled 
 a merry company his wife, Posie, Charlie and the 
 Shadow, Mr. and Mrs. Eossiter and the Keverend Doc- 
 tor Clement. As Mr. Strong entered, Elinor's face 
 appeared buoyant, care-free ; she was talking quickly and 
 every one was laughing. At his coming she broke off 
 in what she was telling and turned to him. 
 
 "Excuse my sending word/' she explained, "but we 
 really must go in." And as Mr. Strong greeted her 
 guests generally and individually: "People are coming 
 later a musicale and if I had known earlier you 
 would arrive " 
 
 "How very reprehensible of you, Mr. Strong, not to 
 let Elinor know," murmured Mrs. Eossiter, as she took 
 that gentleman's arm and moved toward the dining- 
 room. 
 
 But behind them Posie tossed her flowery head. "I'm 
 sure Elinor wouldn't have liked it half so well, if she 
 had known sooner. As it was, your home-coming has 
 been in the nature of a surprise, Mr. Strong. You
 
 ME. STEOXG EETUEXS 211 
 
 don't know how pleased she looked when your message 
 came ! She really changed color and " 
 
 "Blushed like a bride, I dare say !" And the Eeverend 
 Doctor Clement beamed benignly from host to hostess, 
 as the party seated themselves around the board. 
 
 "Look at her now I" Posie clapped her hands. 
 
 The blood had, indeed, rushed to Elinor's cheeks and 
 for the moment she looked startled; then recovering 
 herself she leaned forward and half -gaily invited the 
 scrutiny of the company. 
 
 "Yes; look at her !" she said. 
 
 The only persons who did not join in the conver- 
 sation were Mr. Strong and Charlie Dalton. The lat- 
 ter's countenance wore a conventional expression, but a 
 close observer might have noted how his face had 
 changed at Posie's words and how he had glanced at 
 Elinor quickly. At Mrs. Strong's response, he, too, 
 had involuntarily leaned forward and striven to meet 
 her gaze, but in turning her face from one to the other, 
 as courting a full and individual inspection, she appar- 
 ently overlooked Dalton. The young man's eyes fell; 
 with one hand he fingered the thin stem of his glass; 
 the other clasped his chair a little tighter. 
 
 "You brought back a good color," said Mr. Eossiter, 
 addressing the host of the occasion. "You must have 
 been exposed a great deal ?"
 
 212 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Yes; in the saddle, along the line of construction. 
 For a month I lived outdoors." 
 
 "Outdoors!" cried Posie. "How delightful! Of 
 course, you had many adventures. Can't you tell us 
 some of them?" 
 
 "1 am afraid I can not pose as a hero, Miss Stanton," 
 returned Mr. Strong, his face relaxing. 
 
 "I did not know railroad presidents had to work so 
 hard," remarked Mrs. Rossiter, irrelevantly. 
 
 "Sometimes through preference, Madam," was the re- 
 ply. "I had a longing for a breath of the old life the 
 glory and solitude of God's true world !" 
 
 The rector coughed. "Wouldn't you include the 
 cities in that category, Mr. Strong?" 
 
 "I hardly think I should call Mr. Tweed's city God's 
 world." 
 
 "Of course there are certain evils " 
 
 "Then why not thunder against them in the pulpit ?" 
 Mr. Strong's gray eyes shot a half-quizzical glance at 
 the speaker. 
 
 The Reverend Doctor Clement changed color. Thun- 
 der? In his church? He rubbed his hands gently. 
 
 "I fear, Mr. Strong, it would not be in accord with 
 the policy of our congregation. We seek the gradual 
 remedy. A word, -a hint ! A seed is planted. In time 
 it grows, becomes a bush, then bursts into flower."
 
 ME. STRONG RETURNS 213 
 
 His listener did not appear profoundly impressed, and 
 with sparkling eyes Elinor hastened to the rescue of the 
 rector. 
 
 ''Mr. Strong, I am afraid, believes always in radical 
 measures/' she said. "Business men, you know, have 
 little time for gradual methods." 
 
 Her words to the man at the head of the table rang 
 like a challenge. Doctor Clement sipped his wine, 
 smiled, and was silent. Dalton's look passed from. 
 Elinor to her husband. A moment's constraint. 
 
 "Depend upon it," said Richard Strong, quietly, 
 "when gradual methods are found effective, business 
 men will find the time." 
 
 Elinor turned to Charlie. "How do you like the new 
 figures in the quadrille?" she asked. 
 
 "Can't say that I know them," he answered slowly. 
 And then after a pause : "What are they like ?" 
 
 "Oh, Posie and I must show them to you and Torn.'' 
 
 "Do you dance, Mr. Strong?" asked Posie. He shook 
 his head. 
 
 "That is too bad ! If you only did, we would insist 
 on taking you to so many 'jams' and 'crushes' this 
 winter." 
 
 Richard Strong could not profess any great disap- 
 pointment and the conversation changed to the con- 
 sideration of an amateur theatrical performance, and
 
 214 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 the fashionable "morning" concerts which were given in 
 the afternoon. Mrs. Eossiter reverted to her favorite 
 topic and expounded on the dawn of the woman's era to 
 the rector across the table while her husband discoursed 
 on the singing at the opera the week before. The din- 
 ner, however, was rather hurried', and soon the gentle- 
 men were left for a brief interval to their cigars and 
 coffee. 
 
 Perhaps it was the consciousness of being obliged to 
 abridge that usually felicitous period, but now the talk 
 lagged; even a good story from Doctor Clement fell 
 somewhat short of the mark and Mr. Eossiter strove in 
 vain to lend to the occasion an atmosphere appropriate 
 to a proper fellowship in the weed. Mr. Strong smoked 
 steadily; he, however, never hastened through a cigar, 
 but consumed it with unvarying deliberation except 
 only when the ash did not smoke evenly. Then he 
 usually laid it aside and lighted another. Now the ash 
 was broken, flaky, but apparently he did not notice the 
 imperfection. He was keenly mindful, nevertheless, of 
 his surroundings; of the visual picture Mr. Eossiter, 
 airy; Dalton, preoccupied; but especially was he cogni- 
 zant of sounds from without; from the adjoining room 
 the deep voice of Mrs. Eossiter; the lighter tones of 
 Posie; now another voice, pitched in an intermediate
 
 MR. STKONG EETUEXS 215 
 
 key laughing. Quickly he arose. He regretted to 
 leave, but 
 
 "You don't mean you're going out? ; ' cried Posie, as 
 he entered the hall. "Your first night in New York 
 and at home after how many weeks? Elinor " as 
 Mr. Strong's wife came forward "why don't you per- 
 suade him to stay ?" 
 
 Mr. Strong regarded his wife steadily. She avoided 
 his eyes and her color deepened. 
 
 "Persuade a man?" She laughed a little nervously. 
 "Can you persuade a man?" 
 
 "Indeed you can ! Can't you, Mr. Marks ?" 
 
 Tom hesitated. "I think the right woman I I 
 mean it depends upon the amount of persuasion." 
 
 "In this case I am afraid it would be useless." 
 
 "Are you so stubborn, Mr. Strong?" persisted Posie. 
 
 "You have it on excellent authority," he replied as he 
 took leave of the company.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 CHARLIE VISITS THE GOLD-ROOM 
 
 An extraordinary condition manifested itself in 
 the financial world in the autumn of 1869 a 
 state of affairs well calculated to awaken uneasi- 
 ness, if not apprehension, in the minds of the conserva- 
 tive. This untoward menace to prosperity had arisen 
 gradually and was the outcome of abnormal and artificial 
 causes. Nature, prodigal of her gifts, had done her best 
 to foster the peace and plenty the nation was enjoy- 
 ing. The fruitful earth had yielded unusually abun- 
 dant crops, and wheat sold for more than it had during 
 the vrar. But with stores of abundance in sight, the 
 granaries filled like those of Pharaoh, men were delib- 
 erately conspiring to precipitate conditions the reverse 
 to those warranted by natural laws. Under pretext of 
 emptying the granaries and moving the grain to foreign 
 soil, the clamor for high gold was heard with suspi- 
 cious persistency. 
 
 It became a regular hue and cry. Men began to talk 
 about it through habit, until by constant reiteration 
 216
 
 \ V 
 
 CHAKLIE VISITS THE GOLD-ROOM 217 
 
 that which at first had seemed chimerical now was abso- 
 lute and indisputable to many minds. An inordinate 
 craze for speculating in gold as well as stocks was a 
 natural consequence. People would not work when 
 they could reach into the thin air and by some magical 
 process grasp fabulous fortunes. The clerk deserted his 
 desk; the Broadway merchant, his store; the Nassau 
 Street journalist, his sanctum ; the Fifth Avenue dandy, 
 his club all to wend their way to the affluent Street. 
 The old legends of the Rue Quincampoix and the South 
 Sea Bubble appeared colorless in comparison with the 
 almost daily happenings in the gold-room or on 'Change. 
 
 "Buy ! buy ! buy !" was the frantic chorus. Every one 
 seemed to have become a gambler in gold, and behind 
 this feverish unrest could be felt the influence of an irre- 
 sistible manipulation, fanning, exciting, stimulating the 
 public. 
 
 To a young man of Dalton's keen and comprehensive 
 grasp of an existing situation, the opportunities offered 
 by this trend of events could not lightly pass unheeded. 
 For some time he had seen them. At his desk during the 
 long summer days they had danced enticingly before his 
 eyes, but with a spirit of caution he had continued to 
 wave them aside. Nevertheless, they had persisted in 
 assailing him and after a time he found himself invol- 
 untarily repairing to certain places where members of the 
 alleged gold clique were to be found.
 
 218 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 Among these temerarious speculators the loud-voiced, 
 irrepressible Mr. Fisk was most conspicuously in evi- 
 dence, and carefully, quietly, the young man began to 
 cultivate an acquaintance with the partner of Mr. Gould 
 in the high gold movement. He learned of Mr. Fisk's 
 daily routine; where he dined; where he wined; what 
 theaters or bar-rooms he frequented in the evening, and 
 about so often Dalton managed to meet him. The 
 Prince of Peddlers, as Fisk was sometimes called, was 
 approachable; his egotism invited satellites, and Dalton, 
 for the sake>o| .the information-he "courted, listened to 
 his stories and jokes of the itinerant days when the 
 doughty Jim had driven his magnificent "cart' : " four-in- 
 hand, and doled out his wares to the unsophisticated 
 farmers of 'New Hampshire. 
 
 In the course of this casual intimacy, Charlie did not 
 ascertain a great deal absolutely, but he divined a great 
 deal. And now with the autumn a big advance in the 
 value of gold seemed as inevitable as fate. 
 
 One dull September day of that noteworthy and mem- 
 orable year, Dalton sat at his desk, thinking deeply. To 
 what did it all tend ? A "corner" in gold ! A hercu- 
 lean undertaking mightier than a wheat, corn, cotton 
 or any other "corner" ! But the forces behind it the 
 caliber of the men their obduracy of purpose the 
 far-reaching ramifications
 
 CHAELIE VISITS TITE GOLD-EOOM 219 
 
 Restlessly Charlie arose; walked a few times across 
 the room; then took up his hat and cane. 
 
 "I think I'll go over and watch the boys a little/' he 
 told himself, and, acting upon the resolution, left his 
 office and made his way to the gold-room, adjoining the 
 Stock Exchange. It was a gloomy apartment with dingy 
 frescoing, dimly lighted by ten narrow windows 
 through which the sunshine entered reluctantly on bright 
 afternoons and then speedily withdrew as if from an 
 uncongenial place. Numerous "catty-corners" and nooks 
 were fenced off by iron railings or thin plank parti- 
 tions, and into these recesses the operators were wont to 
 retire waiting for the phantom fractions. A dull mur- 
 mur greeted the ears of the new-comer, mingled with 
 the clinking of the instruments, spinning out the long 
 ribbons covered with quotations from London, Paris and 
 Frankfort. 
 
 For a time Charlie stood near the little fountain in 
 the center of the room, watching the electric indicator 
 operated by a man sitting before a keyboard 1 close to 
 the president's rostrum. A murmur arose from the 
 gallery as the person at the instrument played allegretto, 
 and the scale of prices showed a marked variation in 
 the activity and the spirit of the throng in the vicinity 
 of the tinkling water. 
 
 The scene seemed unreal, fantastic; as intangible aa
 
 220 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 the gold dealt in. This gambling without rhyme or 
 reason, what did it profit a man? If one could only 
 control the trend of prices that was different; it had 
 been done with railroad and other stocks, but with 
 gold 
 
 Dalton continued to gaze at the indicator. What 
 would it reveal to-morrow? the next day? the next? 
 
 He left the gold-room as abruptly as he had entered. 
 In a reverie he stood near the curbstone on Broad 
 Street, the while around him sounded the clatter of 
 open-air brokers, pouring out a stream of bids and 
 offers and telegraphing signals with their uplifted digits. 
 Sundry nondescripts who had seen better days flitted by 
 him ; ghosts of the past who haunted the Street, always 
 asking the prices and never buying. 
 
 "Hack, sir?" said an insinuating voice. 
 
 Charlie looked up ; then stepped into the vehicle, and 
 named a restaurant. He was yet lost in his rumina- 
 tions when the carriage stopped at the corner of Four- 
 teenth Street and Fifth Avenue. Entering the far- 
 famed hostelry, he found the lower room filled with the 
 usual number of mellow individuals, calling for brandy 
 straight at regular intervals, and discussing the merits 
 of Erie, Hudson or Pittsburg. Elbowing his way 
 through these perennially thirsty souls, Charlie paused 
 at a little table at the back of the room, gaging his place 
 by the object he had in view.
 
 CHAELIE VISITS THE GOLD-ROOM 221 
 
 "Won't you join me, Dalton ?" 
 
 Mr. Fisk was in his customary seat, and, at his 
 words, the young man glanced in his direction, affecting 
 to see him for the first time. 
 
 "Thanks," he said, "but" 
 
 "Sit down, I tell you," with a wave of the hand. 
 "Was just about to order and the doctor told me never 
 to eat alone. It's bad for the digestion." 
 
 "In that case," said Charlie, dropping willingly into 
 the chair drawn out by the assiduous waiter, "I have no 
 alternative." 
 
 Mr. Fisk beckoned to the man. "Bring us first a 
 nervine," he ordered. "Don't know what a nervine is, 
 eh ? Well, it's a concoction of roots and herbs, gathered 
 by squaws at Baffin's Bay when the moon is full." 
 
 The somber-looking servitor's face was a study; he 
 shrugged his shoulders and looked his dismay. 
 
 "In other words, C 4 H 0, ! w went on the Prince of 
 Erie. "Haven't got it? Then bring on your whisky 
 plain whisky !" And as the man with a smile of intelli- 
 gence vanished : "That's the way I get even with them 
 for their pesky French names." 
 
 "A good' way," said Charlie, absently. 
 
 "Confound everything French except the women !" 
 went on the buoyant, blond gentleman. "Which reminds 
 me of that day I met you. The time you ran away, you
 
 222 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 rogue! You remember it? It was just after your 
 little tussle with Oriental. And do you know what 
 the peerless Zoldene said about you? Tour friend is 
 ve-ry shy !' 'Not when he's fighting a Dragon/ said I. 
 'Then he finds poor me more ter-ri-ble than the dragon !' 
 says she. And all the way to the theater she talked 
 about you. Not a conquest to be despised, my boy! 
 She's the rage of the town." 
 
 The young man's features did not relax nor did he 
 answer., and Mr. Fisk shot a sharp glance at him; then 
 [turned to the bill-of-f are. 
 
 "Bring us anything," he remarked to the waiter. 
 "Only in courses a good long dinner !" 
 
 "Perhaps Monsieur would like " 
 
 "Anything ! Can't you hear ?" 
 
 And reaching for his whisky, Mr. Fisk raised it to his 
 lips. 
 
 "Here's to high gold !" 
 
 "How high?" said Charlie, with an attempt at jocu- 
 larity. 
 
 The other became more metaphorical than definite. 
 
 "As high as the loftiest cliff of the beetling Hima- 
 layas !" 
 
 Dalton forced a laugh. "Can you hold it there ?" 
 
 "Can we?" He smiled. "Whaf 11 they do when we've 
 got all the nuggets, all the dust, all the ingots and all the 
 golden eagles in the land?"
 
 CHARLIE VISITS THE GOLD-ROOM 223 
 
 "Except those held by the government !" suggested the 
 other. "And what if the government sells " 
 
 His listener did not reply directly. "Dalton," he 
 said, "the way to have power is to take it. I wanted 
 Erie and I got it." 
 
 "Yes," returned the young man, in his voice a cer- 
 tain tribute that the recollections of that memorable 
 fight evoked, "there is no doubt about that. But the 
 government " 
 
 Mr. Fisk regarded the other steadily. "How would 
 you like to do a little work for us?" he asked bluntly, 
 "It isn't much; all the important wires are out; but 
 there are a few people to be kept in line : 
 
 Charlie's heart beat a little faster. The proposal waa 
 as unexpected as flattering. 
 
 "At Washington ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The young man reached for a cigarette; rolled it 
 meditatively between his fingers. His first feeling, one 
 of gratification, was succeeded by certain more modest 
 doubts and questionings. A figure intruded itself in the 
 scope of his misgivings Richard Strong! What subtle- 
 ty or significance lay back of Jim Jubilee's offer? Did 
 the gold clique desire to give the impression at Wash- 
 ington that Mr. Strong 
 
 "I don't know," began Charlie, hesitatingly, "that I 
 should answer your purpose."
 
 224: BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 Mr. Fisk seemed to read the young man's mind, and 
 his smile became one of mingled amusement and irony; 
 the pat of his hand more friendly and patronizing. 
 
 "Xonsense, man!" he said. "You're just the chap 
 for the work." A moment he studied him. "It's the 
 opportunity of your life." 
 
 Dalton looked down. As Mr. Fisk had said, he might 
 never again have such a chance. Why, then, should he 
 not profit by it? If people construed his activity for 
 high gold as a reflection of Eichard Strong's attitude 
 toward the yellow metal, why should he, Dalton, be 
 held responsible for the hasty conclusion? But be- 
 neath this trend of specious argument, other potent in- 
 fluences moved him. Pride, which of late had been at 
 war with policy, urged him to seize the opportunity 
 to throw off the yoke under which he chafed ; to be free, 
 beholden to no one, especially to Something rank- 
 ling stirred in his breast. A moment's silence and he 
 raised his head. His bright determined eyes looked into 
 the optimistic ones of his companion; his manner be- 
 tokened a sudden resolution. 
 
 "All right," he said. "I'll do what I can." 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed Fisk. "Come around then this 
 afternoon and I'll arrange for you to meet Mr. Gould. 
 Then you'll know just what there is to be done, and " 
 with a laugh "what there's in it for you."
 
 CHAPTEE III 
 
 RICHARD STRONG IS STARTLED. 
 
 As the days went by, Mr. Strong evinced more 
 and more a disinclination for his own fireside. 
 The office; his club, a small, quiet organization of 
 business men; the old Astor House for meals these 
 were the places where his days and evenings were prin- 
 cipally passed. His fondness for horses reasserted it- 
 self and his handsome roadsters were the envy of the 
 professional followers of the track. In his light wagon 
 he was often seen at twilight time, speeding his brown 
 geldings on the almost deserted road far beyond the 
 noisy precincts of the city. 
 
 Absorbed in business responsibilities, he had little 
 time for the consideration of personal matters. He was 
 part and parcel of the systems that he had built ; his 
 energy was not his own; the exigencies of the hour 
 claimed him and in taking precautions against the fu- 
 ture, he toiled now harder than ever. 
 
 But while he thus brought the force of his will and 
 understanding to the task of fortifying himself against 
 225
 
 226 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 certain conceivable dangers, another storm not a finan- 
 cial one was gathering, of which he had no warning. It 
 broke on a certain day, shortly after Charlie's interview 
 with Mr. Fisk. On the afternoon of that day, Mr. 
 Strong felt preoccupied, dull, as a man overworked, yet 
 relentlessly driving himself to his various tasks. 
 
 Critically he scanned a number of documents, his 
 thoughts often reverting the while to an article in Mr. 
 Greeley's paper which he had read that morning. 
 
 In vigorous, terse language the three great financial 
 storms that had swept over Wall Street within the last 
 twelve years had been briefly described: the crisis of 
 ? 57, "the fruit of overtrading on a credit basis"; the 
 crash of '61, and the bursting of the bubble in '64, when 
 gold fell forty per cent, and many responsible houses 
 went down. Eichard Strong well remembered the last- 
 named occasion and the wreck and ruin it left behind. 
 
 "Why did Mr. Greeley publish that article?" he 
 thought. 
 
 Then with a sudden energetic movement he turned 
 once more to the papers. Having finished the last page, 
 he folded the documents, tied them with the tape and 
 deposited them in the buff-colored envelope, when Tim, 
 after a discreet knock, entered the room with another 
 consignment of the day's mail. His employer took trie 
 letters and handed the clerk the buff-colored envelope.
 
 EICHAED STRONG IS STARTLED 227 
 
 "Take that to " and he mentioned a firm of promi- 
 nent corporation lawyers. "One moment ! Has Mr. 
 Dalton come in?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. Just come in. He's in his room now, sir." 
 
 "I should like to speak with him." 
 
 "Very well, sir. I'll tell him." And Mr. Taplin 
 vanished. 
 
 Richard Strong glanced at his mail. The top letter 
 caught his eye. The envelope was small, square and 
 blue in color, directed in a feminine hand. A vague, 
 nameless depression, which had seized him earlier in 
 the day, returned. He forgot about the envelope, his 
 properties, the 'gold crowd. Dalton's footsteps recalled 
 him to himself. 
 
 "Good afternoon, Mr. Strong." 
 
 "Good afternoon." What had he called Charlie in 
 for? The young man stood expectant; in one hand 
 his hat ; in the other an unlighted cigar. 
 
 "You wished to see me, sir?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Mr. Strong, absently. "How is the 
 market?" 
 
 "Feverish," returned Dalton, quickly. "The clique 
 has bought nine millions of gold at one thirty-four or 
 thereabouts. The price has been raised to one thirty- 
 eight." 
 
 One thirty-four one thirty-eight the figures failed 
 to awaken Mr. Strong's interest.
 
 228 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 "You see the report has got out that Fisk has fixed 
 the government," went on Charlie, tentatively. 
 
 Mr. Strong glanced mechanically at the letter in his 
 hand, and then bent his gray eyes on the speaker. 
 
 "Whom have they 'fixed,' as you call it?" 
 
 "All the subtreasury crowd Corbin the presi- 
 dent" 
 
 The elder man started. 
 
 "The president ! What president?" 
 
 "The president of the United States." 
 
 Eichard Strong straightened suddenly in his chair ; his 
 hand crumpled the envelope. For the moment there was 
 silence; strained, deep. 
 
 "You believe that?" 
 
 "You don't, sir?" 
 
 The other arose from his place and stepped toward 
 Dalton. 
 
 "Ulysses S. Grant is an honest man !" he thundered. 
 
 A moment he stood, powerful, aggressive, a champion 
 not to be answered; then quietly returned to his desk. 
 The light went out of his eyes; almost a sad expression 
 replaced the masterful look. 
 
 "Dalton/' he said not unkindly, "you are a young 
 man ; an intelligent young man, if you will ! You have 
 studied human nature; you know, perhaps, one side of 
 it. But there is another side you underestimate, the
 
 RICHARD STRONG IS STARTLED 229 
 
 incorruptible ! There are men nothing can change ; 
 nothing can affect. Some of them are fools; some of 
 them are only the truly great. I have known such men. 
 In my own humble way I have endeavored to try to be 
 like them." 
 
 Charlie did not answer at once. His glance was 
 turned from the speaker. The stillness between them 
 emphasized the sound of shuffling footsteps on the pave- 
 ment without. When Dalton again spoke his voice was 
 low, constrained. 
 
 "The president was the guest of some members of 
 the high-gold party on the boat for the Peace Jubilee at 
 Boston. Mr. Fisk was master of ceremony and and 
 I presume that is what has made the talk." 
 
 "It may be," said Mr. Strong, "these gentlemen 
 would like to accomplish a certain thing. It is equally 
 true, if there be a conspiracy, it will react upon the 
 conspirators. The government and Mr. Grant will do 
 their duty. The government will not stop selling gold 
 for the ostensible purpose of stimulating trade and 
 with the real design of promoting a corner in the yellow 
 metal." 
 
 Dalton's lids narrowed but he did not seek further to 
 controvert this emphatic opinion, and again Richard 
 Strong turned to the desk and the letter. With mingled 
 feelings Charlie watched him.
 
 230 BLACK FRIDAY, 
 
 "le there anything more, sir?" 
 
 Mr. Strong swung around in his chair. 
 
 "No ; I don't think of anything, except " his face re- 
 laxed "I have never told you, but I am well satisfied 
 with you." 
 
 The young man flushed. The gray eyes searched his 
 face with genuine interest. 
 
 "It is a great deal," went on Mr. Strong, "to com- 
 mand competent service; it is more to feel confidence in 
 those about you. I have confidence in you, Dalton; I 
 like you, and speak frankly." 
 
 Charlie's face grew a little whiter. He strove to reply 
 in words, but only bowed. 
 
 "You want to make money, but don't try to make 
 it in gold. It's a dangerous and an unfair game. Leave 
 your future to me and I will do all I can for you." 
 
 More than a trace of embarrassment and some other 
 indefinable emotion crossed the young man's counte- 
 nance. 
 
 "Thank you," he half stammered. 
 
 For the moment the quixotic idea entered his mind of 
 stating there and then to Mr. Strong his desire to leave 
 his employ. But quickly following it came the thought, 
 what reasons could he give ? He could not now specify 
 his connection with the gold clique ; to do so would be to 
 violate his understanding with them. Nor could he
 
 RICHARD STRONG IS STARTLED 231 
 
 define that other reason the stronger, more personal 
 one. 
 
 "Thank you," he repeated, "I" 
 
 He was not sure what he had been about to say, but 
 Mr. Strong stopped him with the gesture of a man who 
 desires no words of thanks for what he sees fit to do; 
 opened the letter in his hand and began to read. 
 Suddenly his face changed. An exclamation from his 
 lips caused the other to pause at the door. 
 
 "What is it?" said Charlie, surprise momentarily 
 mastering that other feeling. 
 
 Mr. Strong's back was to him, but Dalton saw the 
 great fist clenched on the desk. 
 
 "What is it?" he repeated. 
 
 The hand unclenched; turned here and there among 
 the other papers. 
 
 "Nothing," said a strange voice; "nothing!" 
 
 A moment Dalton lingered dubiously. Then "A11 
 right," he said, and went out and' closed the door. 
 
 But when he had gone Richard Strong again reached 
 swiftly for the letter.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A FIGURE IN THE MOONLIGHT 
 
 He read it again and again, after which he sat 
 and looked at it, as if his mind, usually so clear, 
 had suddenly been confronted with something in- 
 comprehensible. What did it mean? What could it 
 mean ? A nameless writer 
 
 With his firm fingers he tore the missive and the en- 
 velope into bits and threw them into the waste-basket. 
 
 "It is not worthy of a second thought," he told him- 
 self. "I'll not think of it." 
 
 But he did, nevertheless; even though he turned 
 resolutely to his papers. He read some matter foreign to 
 the letter that had disturbed him, and when he put the 
 business paper down, he found he had perused it like 
 an automaton, without mastering its contents. Still he 
 strove to concentrate his thoughts on the details of the 
 day, and taking up a pen began to write. The first 
 few sentences flowed concisely, but he was soon groping 
 for the main thread of the idea and obliged to commence 
 once more. He got farther not much when suddenly 
 232
 
 A FIGUEE IN THE MOONLIGHT 233 
 
 he bent his head and held it in his hands. For some 
 time he remained thus, but at length arose. 
 
 "This will not do/' he said, and walking to the win- 
 dow, opened it wide, and stood there, breathing deeply. 
 On the pavement below were little groups of men, 
 engaged in earnest conversation. What were they all 
 talking about? The man at the window knew there 
 was but one topic of interest now for layman, or church- 
 man ; poor man, or rich man. Gold ! high gold, or 
 cheap gold ; a gold corner, a gold slump ! 
 
 Impatiently he turned and left the room. Passing 
 through the general offices, he traversed the hall, pausing 
 a moment before Dalton's room. That young man had 
 some time since betaken himself from his place of labor, 
 but his door was ajar and Eichard Strong looked in. 
 His desk had been cleared of papers, but the odor of 
 cigar smoke still permeated the air. Mr. Strong took 
 in the various details at a glance, lingered a moment 
 and then walked down stairs and out of the building. 
 Turning into the street the first person he encountered 
 was a little cadaverous, bearded man, with deep, sunken 
 eyes, who slackened his nervous footsteps at sight of 
 him. 
 
 "How do you do?" he said and, with no further 
 word, walked on with Eichard Strong. The street was 
 now fast emptying itself of its frequenters ; messengers,
 
 234 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 clerks, brokers, lawyers and tipsters; some moving 
 directly toward the main thoroughfare; others diving 
 into certain subterranean places whence came the sound 
 of a banjo, or a fiddle, or even the fuller strains of a 
 distressed small orchestra. 
 
 "The short interest is very heavy in gold," finally 
 observed the little man. 
 
 "So I am told, Mr. Gould." 
 
 That gentleman said no more; it had ever been his 
 habit to examine and cross-examine men with his eyes 
 rather than his lips. Mr. Strong had always been im- 
 penetrable, but he wore now an indefinable look which 
 puzzled the little man. Did it portend he had been 
 selling gold heavily and felt himself bound to com- 
 promise with the Erie party, which was manipulating 
 the market? 
 
 "Strong looks worried," Mr. Gould remarked later 
 in the day to Fisk when they met at their common ren- 
 dezvous, a certain little back office. 
 
 ''Well," laughed Jim Jubilee, bruskly, "there's only 
 two things that worry a man in this world gold and 
 ^women !" 
 
 His companion did not answer directly. A certain 
 moral side of Mr. Fisk's nature fell within the pale of 
 his absolute disapproval. Mr. Gould was devout, tem- 
 perate, and above all, domestic. He might use the other ;
 
 A FIGUKE IN THE MOONLIGHT 235 
 
 employ that versatile gentleman in many and varied 
 capacities, but the strong puritanical streak that ran 
 through the little man's character shut out Jim, the 
 erstwhile peddler, from an intimacy any closer than the 
 exigencies of business demanded. Mr. Fisk made money, 
 to employ it in vain pleasures; Mr. Gould, like Daniel 
 of old, worshiped both gold and the Book. 
 
 "The short interest must be nearly two hundred mil- 
 lions," remarked the little man, and turned the con- 
 versation to the sober and staid topic of the circulating 
 medium and the government. 
 
 Meanwhile the subject of the little man's thoughts con- 
 tinued to walk up-town. Near the post-office he stopped 
 and bought a copy of the Journal of Commerce. He 
 endeavored to read the h'eadings of the articles as he 
 walked along; to note the last quotations for gold and 
 the comments thereon, but in a few moments threw the 
 paper aside. He asked himself where he was going. 
 
 His home ? No ; not there ! The picture of a dancer, 
 conspicuously displayed near the entrance of Niblo's 
 caught his eye. "The incomparable Zoldene !" read the 
 announcement. A line of people near the box-office 
 was an eloquent tribute to that fascinating lady's draw- 
 ing power. 
 
 In the picture a net fastened her hair; with one foot 
 raised, she balanced herself on the tip of the other, the
 
 236 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 while a ravishing smile parted her red lips, as if it 
 were an exhilarating and delightful feat thus to main- 
 tain the difficult equipoise. The pink slippers and a red 
 rose-bud were the most striking features of her costume, 
 and, with the smile, carried conviction undoubtedly to no 
 inconsiderable part of the public regarding the verity of 
 the managerial announcement. Beyond the widely 
 opened portals suggestive of the alluring attractions of 
 a Zoldene lurking somewhere within, and a yawning ca- 
 pacity to accommodate as many of the curious-minded 
 as cared to investigate said charms Mr. Strong moved 
 on, turning into the Metropolitan Hotel. 
 
 In the lobby a merry group of actors, wearing English 
 "scow shoes" of the largest kind, were engaged in the 
 consideration of not brother players but stocks and 
 sherry cobblers. 
 
 "Erie gold forty three-quarters sell buy 
 thirty days I" was the burden of their talk, another straw 
 indicating the trend of events. The leading man no 
 longer remained content to play Claude Melnotte, or 
 Romeo, but must need's divide his attention between the 
 muse and the market. Mr. Strong paused long enough 
 to light his cigar, and then resumed his walk. 
 
 Before a solid and stolid-looking edifice his club 
 which he reached some time later, stood a light vehicle 
 and a spirited team. Without stopping for dinner, he
 
 A FIGUEE IN THE MOONLIGHT 237 
 
 entered the wagon, grasped the reins, and not long after- 
 ward was speeding along the almost deserted road, his 
 favorite drive beyond the turmoil of the town. 
 
 Gently were falling the shadows of evening; tranquil- 
 lity lay on the land, and peace on the placid surface of 
 the majestic river. The wood-robins sang in the trees, 
 and, somewhere in the bushes the plaintive whippoorwilla 
 mourned unseen. All the assuaging forces of nature, 
 however the hush of the river, the halcyon touch of 
 twilight, the pacific chant failed to dispel his unrest. 
 He held the reins with no answering thrill to the superb 
 movement of the fleet-footed team, and soon the horses 
 relaxed, jogging along with tossing mane and coquettish 
 by-play. But after covering a short distance, with no 
 sign of reproof from the inattentive driver, they were 
 stirred once more of their own accord to a sudden rush 
 of speed, as behind sounded the patter of hoofs, and, 
 creeping up, came a light road wagon. 
 
 The man in front had no choice ; a free stretch of road 
 lay before him ; the air rushed by, cooling without clear- 
 ing his brow. The team behind did not gain, but hung 
 on his flank with dogged persistency. So it continued a 
 fair distance, until Eichard Strong with some difficulty 
 drew in his horses and suffered the other vehicle to pass. 
 
 "Good team !" called out a voice. "You should enter 
 the Jerome Park races." And Eobert Bonner sped by, 
 holding the reins over Peerless and Flatbush Maid.
 
 238 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 After one or two ineffectual attempts to regain the 
 distance lost, Mr. Strong's horses reconciled themselves 
 to their master's mood. The shadows grew deeper ; over 
 the river, night placed a veil; through the chasm swept 
 the wind. Now not far before him shone the bright 
 windows of a rambling, hospitable-looking structure. 
 Near the porch stood the editor-sportsman's team, sur- 
 rounded by a number of admiring bystanders, critically 
 inspecting the horses in the lamplight. Mr. Strong's 
 hand held the reins indecisively. Should he go on? 
 Should he stop ? The sound of merry voices in carriages 
 drawing near a light-hearted party of town-folk de- 
 cided him. He necked the horses lightly with the whip. 
 
 Several hours later, when the road lay in brightening 
 haziness and over the trees the edge of the moon peeped 
 elfishly, he returned, reining in the team before the 
 rambling house. 
 
 "My ! but you have been driving them, sir !" said the 
 stable-boy, who appeared from around a corner of the 
 wing. 
 
 Mr. Strong regarded the lad, half-kindly, half-dully, 
 as the latter stroked the moist neck of the nearer horse. 
 
 "It won't hurt them, my boy," he said. "Horses and 
 men are none the worse for a little driving occasionally. 
 That never hurts them. But take this" thrusting his 
 hand in his pocket "and see that they are well rubbed 
 down and blanketed."
 
 A FIGUKE IN THE MOONLIGHT 239 
 
 Entering the wing, he seated himself in one of the 
 small private rooms. Long he remained there and 
 smoked. No; he did not care for anything, he said to 
 the waiter, and then, possibly reflecting that he would 
 attract less attention with the viands before him than 
 sitting in purposeless abstraction, he told the man to 
 bring him cold meat and ale. Now, as so many times 
 before that evening, his mind went back to the letter; 
 its words seemed burned in fire on his brain; how dia- 
 bolically ingenious had been the message; how keen the 
 train of suggestion ; and the inference 
 
 The waiter's entrance caused him to look up, and, as 
 he did so, he became aware of the music of an orchestra 
 in an adjoining part of the house; a light rhythmical 
 strain, suggestive of gliding feet and inspiring motion. 
 The man deliberately arranged the dishes. 
 
 "Is that all, sir?" 
 
 "That's all." Something in the music seemed famil- 
 iar. Where had he heard it ? Then he remembered. It 
 was one of Elinor's favorite waltzes ; a breath of Vienna 
 gaiety. Mr. Strong was -not one of those who believe 
 that music is the "fourth great material want of man," 
 but he had listened, perhaps, with unconscious interest 
 to that particular play of exhilarating melody. 
 
 "You have a dance here to-night?" he said to the 
 waiter.
 
 240 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Yes, sir ; quite a party ! It has become all the fash- 
 ion in town to give Eclipse parties out in the country. 
 This is eclipse month you know, sir. So we have Eclipse 
 polkas, Eclipse waltzes and Eclipse gallops. And Eclipse 
 dresses, I guess, too, for each lady looks as if she were 
 trying to eclipse every other lady ! Would you like to 
 just look in at them, sir?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 The guest's tone left no pretext for the man to linger. 
 When he had gone, Mr. Strong showed little inclination 
 to eat of the abundance invitingly spread before 
 him, for after a moment he put down his knife and fork 
 and sat back listening. Capricious, illusive was the mu- 
 sic, suggesting vistas of life he had never penetrated; 
 vistas of youth, pleasure 
 
 A sudden desire to look into the room seized him and 
 quickly he arose, when with a last flaunting whirl of 
 sparkling cadence, the melody resolved itself into the 
 final chords. He paused at the door of his room; re- 
 turned to the table. A hum of voices and a flow of 
 laughter succeeded the strains from the orchestra evi- 
 dences of mirth and merriment which oppressed the 
 listener. 
 
 This was her world a world to which he was a 
 stranger. He wondered where she was now; what she 
 was doing. Had she gone to an assembly ? A musicale ?
 
 A FIGUKE IN THE MOONLIGHT 241 
 
 The theater? Was she laughing, too, like all these 
 other women? He remembered how rare and sweet he 
 had thought her smile the first time he had seen her. He 
 recalled, too, her eyes, so deep, frank and true; the in- 
 flexible grace of her girlish figure where all that was best 
 seemed to find a fair and equitable abiding-place. 
 Through the confusion of his thoughts, the trust that 
 her glance inspired then her glance, and her grave face, 
 shorn of its lighter character when he had addressed her 
 recurred to him. One phase of her nature had ap- 
 peared as fixed as the brightest and clearest light of the 
 most steadfast star in the sky. He had never doubted; 
 he did not doubt now 
 
 But the writer of the accusing letter ? the object of the 
 epistle? What foul motive had inspired it? How had 
 stich enmity been incurred? It had not been a man's 
 work obviously ! A woman's then ? A devil's ! 
 
 Abruptly the orchestra broke in upon the trend of his 
 questioning, and the voices of the merrymakers were 
 drowned in the catchy harmony of the latest polka. The 
 man at the table left his place and walked out into the 
 passageway. A current of air called his attention to an 
 open door and he found himself moving up and down the 
 broad veranda built on the front and side of the main 
 part of the structure. Approaching one of the windows, 
 he stood against the rail and looked in.
 
 242 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 The heavy lace curtains and the lambrequins almost 
 obscured his 'view, but he could dimly discern graceful 
 and sprightly figures in cea-seless motion ; broad flowing 
 silken gowns, giving varied touches of bright hues to the 
 animated scene; colors that intermixed, vanished, and 
 then were seen again ! He experienced a vague con- 
 sciousness of picturesque head-dresses; arrangements in 
 ivy leaves, roses, wild flowers. He saw strewn on the 
 floor, where they had fallen from the dresses of the heed- 
 less votaries of pleasure, several garlands of gay buds and 
 blossoms which now the lively feet either thrust aside or 
 trampled upon. 
 
 One figure, he could but half-discern on the other side 
 of the room, he almost fancied might be hers; a 
 tall form instinct with grace; the white shoulders, 
 rounded, albeit girlish. She was moving with all the 
 abandon of a joyous spirit, when her dainty slippers 
 caught upon a garland of flowers upon the floor. She 
 tripped, recovered herself, tore the blossoms ruthlessly 
 apart, and with a laugh swung again into the vortex of 
 figures. As she did so, the watcher left the window. 
 
 The clock had some time past marked the midnight 
 hour; the maids had long been yawning in the kitchen 
 and the stable-boys dozing in their chairs when the party 
 broke up. One by one the carriages drove away with 
 their blithesome couples, many of whom carried their
 
 A FIGUKE IN THE MOONLIGHT 243 
 
 laughter far down the road. The last pair crossed the 
 porch; there was a brief vision of some one assisting a 
 white figure into the vehicle ; a passing scent of the flow- 
 ers she wore and the Eclipse dance had come to an end ! 
 
 Then Eichard Strong, who had ostensibly been reading 
 a magazine in the secluded little v room next to the bar, 
 laid down the periodical, looked at his watch and started. 
 
 "Bring out the team/' he said. 
 
 "All right, sir," answered the sleepy-looking waiter 
 with alacrity. 
 
 Soon the horses were at the door, and, after settling 
 his bill, he sprang into his carriage and turned city-ward. 
 
 Brightly shone the moon, a silvery disk well up in the 
 sky, and, as he sped down the road, the details of the sur- 
 rounding scene were plainly discernible the top 
 branches of the trees, now motionless; the bushes, gro- 
 tesque in outline; the road, white and winding. The 
 soothing sound of myriad insects mingled with the re- 
 assuring notes of the little owl, a cheerful tinkling like 
 that of a bell. Perhaps some of the peace of the hour de- 
 scended on him. Perhaps the beauty of the night, the 
 soft glamour that lay on hill and dale, threw over him 
 their magic spell. The one central thought became para- 
 mount. 
 
 "She is to be trusted trusted I" 
 
 That was something a great deal. Yes ; thank God 
 for that!
 
 244 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Trusted !" he repeated almost tenderly, when sud- 
 denly the glimmer of light, bathing two figures in a car- 
 riage he had unconsciously almost overtaken, arrested his 
 attention. A little streaming veil caught his eye; held 
 it. He thought of the lady whom he had likened to his 
 wife; the indistinct, vague outline of the girl who had 
 danced in unrestrained enjoyment. 
 
 A growing fear came over him ; an abrupt dread, akin 
 to acutest pain. He knew why he had unconsciously as- 
 sociated the lady with Elinor. Because she was Elinor 
 and she now rode before him ! 
 
 He was assured of this ; as certain as that he knew who 
 sat by her side ; as certain as he saw him bend over her ; 
 swiftly draw her to him kiss her again again
 
 CHAPTEE V 
 
 ELINOR SITS UP LATE 
 
 Just what happened immediately thereafter Eich- 
 ard Strong never quite knew. The first blinding 
 sensation which paralyzed every nerve was suc- 
 ceeded by an overpowering sense of what had happened 
 on the road before him. The hand clutching the whip he 
 had half-raised to his throat the gesture of a man who 
 is choking suddenly stopped; descended fiercely, bru- 
 tally ! The maddened horses sprang forward ; became 
 uncontrollable; dashed down the road and passed the 
 other carriage, almost grazing it. Startled, Charlie 
 Dalton gazed after the runaway team, but with no suspi- 
 cion of the greater danger he for the moment had es- 
 caped. 
 
 How long did Eichard Strong struggle with the 
 horses? How did it happen he managed to elude de- 
 struction ? He was conscious of having experienced sev- 
 eral narrow escapes; of having overtaken and passed 
 other vehicles. But at length he succeeded in checking 
 the headlong speed and drawing the panting and af- 
 245
 
 246 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 frighted team to a nervous gait. He became., also, aware 
 of feeling now a deep-settled numbness, different from 
 the emotion of that first outbreak. Gazing back, he 
 peered into the gloom and saw nothing; listening, he 
 heard nothing. He wondered how far they were down 
 the road ; how long he should be obliged to wait. 
 
 But for an accident and he had already acted. He 
 knew that he should act now, if he remained, and yet was 
 powerless to resist the primal human impulse that held 
 him to the spot. He even feared they might not pass that 
 way, but at the fork take the other road leading into the 
 city. This apprehension grew into disappointed assur- 
 ance as time sped on, and he saw no signs of them. He 
 left his wagon and restlessly strode up and down beside 
 it; now looking at the sky, where a sickly, yellowish im- 
 press marked the position of the moon behind the clouds, 
 and then down the silent, deserted road. The horses, 
 quivering and trembling, required no attention from him, 
 but remained willingly at a standstill. 
 
 During this vigil his mind, now over- vividly acute, 
 passed in review many events that were suddenly il- 
 lumined with new meaning. The reason for her confes- 
 sion that day at Saratoga became plainly manifest. She 
 had told him she did not care for him. But she had not 
 added that all the time in her mind had been another 
 figure ; in her heart, another image !
 
 ELINOR SITS UP LATE 247 
 
 And she had married him, knowing it ! She had stood 
 before the altar and pledged herself to him, conscious of 
 it ! To what end ? And Dalton ? A bitter exclamation 
 burst from Eichard Strong's lips. He and she ! 
 
 The unmistakable sound of carriage wheels broke in 
 upon his mood and fixedly he gazed in the direction of 
 the approaching vehicle. He realized fully what he was 
 going to do. He did not consider how he should bring 
 about the desired end, but he knew he could not fail. 
 
 Nearer drew the carriage and he moved out into the 
 road to meet it. How slowly it approached ! He breathed 
 hardter ; the interval became interminable. At his feet a 
 katydid began its cheerful song. The vehicle was now 
 but a few feet from him; a fierce joy beat in his breast. 
 The patter of hoofs grew louder, and Richard Strong hac T 
 stepped forward when a strange voice called out. The 
 unfamiliar tones arrested his action, held him as if par- 
 alyzed. The person who drove up was alone. 
 
 "Hello, there !" he exclaimed, as he brought his horses 
 to a standstill. "Break-down ?" 
 
 The motionless figure did not answer. 
 
 "I guess you're the runaway team. Need any help?" 
 
 "No." The word was forced through his lips. 
 
 The whip cracked and the carriage moved on, leaving 
 the man in the road staring after it. On him fell the 
 bitterness of the reaction. Still he lingered, but heard
 
 248 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 no sound save the persistent incongruous note of the 
 minstrel in the grass. At length, he got into his wagon 
 once more and continued toward the city. Against the 
 gathering mistiness of a sullen sky the distant lights 
 gleamed faintly, but a number of houses, now scattered 
 along the road, were dark as if tenantless. 
 
 The town which he presently entered was wrapped in 
 murky shadows ; the stillness reigning in the streets was 
 broken only by an occasional wandering footfall some 
 belated frequenter of the billiard rooms, the gambling 
 houses or the Atlantic Gardens. Melancholy as the night, 
 a woman in tatters emerged noiselessly from the lowering 
 shade around the corner of one of the narrow highways, 
 passed on beneath the yellow flare of the lamp, and spec- 
 ter-like glided into an abyss of obscurity. 
 
 The horses must have turned homeward of their own 
 accord, for the driver was hardly conscious of guiding 
 them. They had stumbled on somehow, their spirit gone, 
 and at last paused before the great mansion. As he drew 
 up, the coachman who had been waiting in the barn came 
 forward, and led the team to the stable. Mr. Strong ad- 
 mitted himself into the hall. 
 
 It was dimly lighted, as also the library, and he gazed 
 quickly around him. She had already returned. A light 
 wrap, a tissue of delicate web and mesh, lay on the chair ; 
 beside it her gloves ; upon the floor, her veil. He glanced
 
 ELIXOR SITS UP LATE 249 
 
 at these various articles, but especially at the bit of 
 diaphanous stuff at his feet. Once more he seemed to 
 see it fluttering in the moonlight. 
 
 From an adjoining room, her portrait looked down on 
 him. Painted by a friend of the Eossiters not long be- 
 fore the marriage, it had been removed from the family 
 homestead at the suggestion of the ever solicitous Mrs. 
 L'ossiter, to adorn a conspicuous place on the walls of the 
 mansion provided for the bride. The canvas caught hia 
 attention, as perforce through some living attribute ; the 
 eyes rested softly on him with real and positive insis- 
 tence, a dewy light in their shadowy depths. The mock- 
 ing quality of that psychological analysis in paint pos- 
 sessed him. So fair ! so sweet ! it she all was de- 
 ceit guile 
 
 A step overhead broke the deathlike hush of the house. 
 Mr. Strong left the hall and slowly mounted the stair- 
 way. At the landing he paused ; a tiny glimmer of light 
 shone from beneath her door; drew him irresistibly to- 
 ward it. He counted his footsteps ; heard his own heart 
 beat. Strangely he hesitated at the door. What was he 
 going to do ? Turning the knob quickly, he entered the 
 room. 
 
 A slender figure, still in the ball-room gown, sprang up 
 from the sofa as he crossed the threshold. The lights 
 were turned half-down, but the whiteness of her dress
 
 250 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 and the paleness of her face made her vividly discernible. 
 At her feet and clinging to the folds of her skirt wera 
 the red petals of a rose from the garland she had worn. 
 Dark shone her eyes, but behind the startled look tears 
 seemed to gleam. She stood there for a moment, one 
 hand raised to her heart, as if to still its sudden quick 
 beating, then gazed down. 
 
 "You are still up ?" he said. 
 
 "Yes I was at a dance out of town." 
 
 As from afar he studied her. 
 
 "You enjoyed it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He moved a little nearer. 
 
 "Is that the reason you have been crying ?" 
 
 "Crying ! how do you know ? why : ' She tried to 
 laugh. "I suppose all of us sometimes have our 
 blue moments," she ended defiantly. 
 
 "Is that the only reason?" 
 
 She stroked her gown. 
 
 "Of course ! What other reason could there be ?" she 
 asked, lifting her head. 
 
 Her tone was light and yet strained. 
 
 "Of course there could be none," he returned. 
 
 She looked at him quickly; an expression, almost of 
 relief, crossed her face. Again she seated herself upon 
 the sofa.
 
 ELINOR SITS UP LATE 251 
 
 "Who went with you ?" 
 
 She breathed quick!}-. A flush mantled her cheek. 
 
 "Cousin Charlie/' she answered, her eyes very bright. 
 
 His face changed. Intently she watched him. Sud- 
 denly her eyes dilated. 
 
 "Oh," she cried, "it was you on the road behind 
 us-" 
 
 Something seemed gathering in his brain a mist. He 
 took a step forward. 
 
 "Yes it was I" 
 
 "You know you saw he will not see me again !" 
 
 The mist spread. Her eyes looking truth, and her 
 lips speaking lies, overwhelmed him. As through a 
 dark cloud he saw her in the moonlight; on the road; 
 in Dalton's arms 
 
 "Richard, I" 
 
 "The truth ! The truth ! you sold yourself to me ! 
 You love him !" 
 
 "No ! no !" 
 
 Spots of color danced before him. "Confess, or " 
 
 He put out his arm. She laughed wildly. 
 
 "Well? Well?" 
 
 His hand closed. A deeper film was drawn over his 
 gaze. He was no longer master of himself. 
 
 When the mist cleared he saw her, pale, passive, lying 
 on the sofa. Stupefied, he regarded her. Why did she 
 remain motionless ? What had happened ? Was she
 
 252 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 Automatically he turned up the light. In the full 
 glare, her face was whiter; more death-like. Her golden- 
 brown hair, unbound, swept the pillow; her hand drop- 
 ped from her side. He looked at it so inert ! then fell, 
 on his knees by the couch. 
 
 "Elinor !" 
 
 No answer ; only the closed eyes and the still face ! A 
 thrill ran through him. Guilty or innocent, he was ter- 
 rified by what he had done. 
 
 "Elinor! Elinor" 
 
 Her breast lifted; then her eyelids. 
 
 "Thank God !" he said, and dropped her hand. What 
 power had stayed his strength ? Surely he had meant 
 some miracle seemed to have happened. 
 
 "Elinor!" 
 
 At the sound of his voice, mechanically she drew her- 
 self from him. Why was he bending over her? A mo- 
 ment before the dimness of the room had been succeeded 
 by darkness, while now 
 
 ''Well ?" she said, as a third person speaking. 
 
 He did not answer; his glance dwelt upon the brutal 
 marks of his hands upon her shoulders stains of red 
 upon the snowy whiteness. 
 
 "Well ?" she repeated in the same tone. 
 
 Unsteadily he arose ; turned.
 
 ELINOK SITS UP LATE 253 
 
 "I hate you ! hate you !" she said. 
 
 "I know that/' he answered, and with no further word 
 walked to the door. 
 
 Her eyes followed his receding figure, but he did not 
 look back. The door closed; the sound of his footsteps 
 soon ceased. Long she sat staring at the floor. Without, 
 the cold, gray dawn cast its first lengthening shadows 
 down the quiet street ; in the park a bird began to sing. 
 
 It seemed to arouse her. Going to the dressing-table 
 she caught sight of herself; her shoulders then sud- 
 denly sank to the floor and covered her face with her 
 hands.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE WRITER OF THE LETTER 
 
 The next day Tim Taplin noted, with some ap- 
 prehension, his employers face, its expression that 
 of a man spent with fatigue. He observed, also 
 what surprised him more the usually steady hand of 
 Mr. Strong was not without a tremor. The clerk's solici- 
 tude overcame his diffidence. 
 
 "I trust you are well, sir ?" he ventured to inquire. 
 
 "Quite well." The eyes that looked into Taplin's were 
 cold; the voice hard, discouraging further interrogation. 
 
 The quaint, ingratiating smile faded from Tim's face ; 
 in his heart, perhaps, he sighed. What had come over his 
 employer? Formerly he had volunteered an occasional 
 query of a personal nature about the clerk's domestic 
 affairs, or his sister, Tillie, to whom Tim was bound by 
 ties of unalterable devotion! But for some time both 
 Tillie and himself had ceased to exist, as human beings, 
 in the mind of the financier. Tim had become a ma- 
 chine ; Tillie alas ! had been obliterated. 
 
 "Has Mr. Dalton come down yet ?" 
 254
 
 THE WKITEE OF THE LETTEE 255 
 
 "Yes, sir and gone." 
 
 Richard Strong's glance was so strange and searching, 
 the clerk shifted uneasily. 
 
 "He was down very early/' explained Tim. "He didn't 
 somehow seem quite himself, and after fidgeting around 
 for a few moments called me to his desk. 'I've got to go 
 to Washington again, on some personal business/ he 
 said. 'It's unexpected, but necessary. Will you tell Mr. 
 Strong?'" 
 
 "How long did he say he would be gone?" 
 
 "For a day or two." 
 
 "Very well. That's all." 
 
 Tim went out wondering. Could the young man's de- 
 parture for the capital city have anything to do with 
 Mr. Strong's altered demeanor? The Street was rife 
 with rumors ; the day had dawned more feverish than 
 yesterday; the dreaded whisper of impending failures 
 and tottering financial institutions tended still further 
 to increase the lack of confidence that the public for some 
 time had experienced. In railroad stocks a further weak- 
 ness became observable ; in gold, the unnatural buoyancy 
 increased. 
 
 "Depend upon it," the clerk told himself, "Mr. Strong 
 is worrying about some of his securities." And Tim re- 
 turned to his work, shaking his head dubiously. 
 
 For three days Eichard Strong practically confined
 
 256 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 himself to his office. With such energy as he could com- 
 mand he applied himself to the pressing affairs of the 
 moment, knowing that the public weal his public de- 
 manded of him then, as perhaps never before, the exer- 
 cise of unceasing vigilance. His nights he passed at 
 v the Astor House in a room on the second story of that 
 com^grtable hostelry. He had heard nothing from his 
 wife;^.eil*d Sjent fee 1 ! 1 no word. 
 
 But amid these public cares he could not entirely shut 
 himself from matters of private moment. Passing 
 through the hall one day he encountered a lady at the 
 door of Charlie's office; a dark lady, glittering with 
 jewels and redolent of flowers as a May-day queen. She 
 smiled sweetly and spoke with a French accent. 
 
 "Do you know if Mr. Dalton is in?" 
 
 It was seldom a woman's footstep passed the threshold 
 of these offices and Mr. Strong surveyed this unusual 
 caller not without surprise. Perhaps his regard was 
 more persistent than flattering ; perhaps she instinctively 
 felt the repellent force in his glance, for her smile be- 
 came a shade less agreeable. But she was a woman not 
 easily daunted in her purpose and her voice had a more 
 determined ring as she repeated her question. 
 
 "He is not." 
 
 The lady's face expressed disappointment. A moment
 
 THE WRITER OF THE LETTER 257 
 
 she looked thoughtful, as if confronted by an unexpected 
 contingency, and then 
 
 "When, please, will he be in ?" she asked. 
 
 "I can not tell." 
 
 The lady tapped her foot. 
 
 "How annoying !" she said, and added, with a sudden 
 sharp flash of her black eyes: "I am his wife." 
 
 Mr. Strong wheeled about. 
 
 "His what?" 
 
 "His" tilting her head "wife." 
 
 The gentleman made no answer; only looked down. 
 With gleaming eyes the lady watched him, as if enjoy- 
 ing the situation. Would he question her statement? 
 Apparently not. 
 
 "How long have you been married, Madam ?" he said 
 at length. 
 
 Zoldene shrugged her shoulders. "I am no longer 
 the bride. The honeymoon" with a sigh "it is all 
 over long ago !" 
 
 The fact, not the sentiment with which it was embel- 
 lished, interested her listener. Critically he studied her. 
 
 "You are an actress ?" 
 
 "An artiste, Monsieur!" corrected the lady. "They 
 call me Zoldene !" 
 
 "And are playing in town?" 
 
 "Oh, mon Dieu!" cried the caller. Have you not 
 heard? Zoldene the talk of the town ! mon Dieu! "
 
 258 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 Upon the other, these expostulations did not, perhaps, 
 produce the expected effect, but if he expressed no plea- 
 sure in meeting a lady so illustrious and popular, his 
 manner at least was shorn of a certain cold expectancy, 
 which at first had marked it. Opening the door of 
 Charlie's office, he ushered her in a courtesy that she ac- 
 knowledged with a smile once more wholly amicable, in- 
 gratiating. Not without interest she gazed about, touch- 
 ing her finger to the dust on the desk and eying askance 
 sundry ponderous-looking law-books. 
 
 "It is not a very pretty place," she said. 
 
 Mr. Strong reverted to that other topic of interest. 
 
 "It is not generally known, Madam, that Mr. Dalton 
 is married," he observed. 
 
 "No," answered the lady; "after he left the college, he 
 expected the fortune, but it was gone. I am not merce- 
 naire mon Dieu, no !" with a sigh "but one can not 
 live on the air. So I return to Paris." 
 
 "When were you married?" 
 
 A smile rippled' the lady's face. "When he was at the 
 college. All the sophs what 3'ou call 'em ? were in love 
 with Zoldene. He come every night ; he send flowers ; he 
 try to 'cut the others out.' He say he love me ; I laugh. 
 Mon Dieu! Zoldene belong to the art, not to the man. 
 The last night there was a little supper ; we were what
 
 THE WHITES OF THE LETTER 259 
 
 you call it ? tres jolly. Again he say he love me. And 
 I 'No I no !' But he persist. We order more cham- 
 pagne ; and some one then, he 'dare' us to go to the min- 
 ister. 'No ! no !' say I, and then he tell me how he love 
 me. And then : 
 
 The lady paused. "It was so romantic, and he he 
 love me so " 
 
 "And you went to the minister's and were married ?" 
 
 Zoldene's head nodded. "For better or worse, Mon- 
 sieur !" 
 
 Mr. Strong offered no comments. He had no reason 
 to doubt the story. In fact, at that moment his mind 
 was not bent upon questioning the lady's veracity. A 
 different train of thought moved him. 
 
 "Mr. Dalton, as I told you, is not here," he said, "but 
 if you would like to write something, you can leave it on 
 his desk." 
 
 "A note just the thing !" cried the lady, a malicious 
 light in her eyes. "It will give him so much pleasure !" 
 And she began to draw off her glove. "Where is the 
 paper ?" seating herself. "Ah, here ! And the pen ? 
 Mon Dieu! the pen, it sputters. What shall I say?" The 
 little liand traced a few lines ; the head tipped one way 
 to survey it and then the other. An envelope was di- 
 rected with equal celerity and the lady arose. 
 
 "There !" she exclaimed. "If Monsieur would give 
 that to him. Monsieur has been very kind. Monsieur "
 
 2GO BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 The words died on Zoldene's lips. She regarded 
 Eichard Strong with a start as she realized her mistake. 
 He was staring at her note, studying intently the hand- 
 writing. Then he turned from the letter to her. A 
 frown gathered on the lady's brow; her eyes snapped 
 angrily. 
 
 "I will not write him after all !" she said. "A note ? 
 It is nothing. I will call again." 
 
 And she held out her hand for the letter. Still the 
 other showed no disposition to relinquish it. 
 
 "The note, Monsieur !" spoke up the lady, sharply. 
 "I will have it back." 
 
 Quickly he thrust it into his pocket. Her face changed 
 and she tossed her head. 
 
 "You are very clevaire." 
 
 "Why did you write that other note ?" he said hoarsely. 
 
 She drew herself up, no further dissimulation on her 
 face. 
 
 "Why do you think a woman writes a note like that ?" 
 she answered. "I met him on the street he ran away 
 from me. I write him; he will not answer. Maybe I 
 wanted to go back to him. It was not my fault I must 
 leave him before. But he would not listen and then I 
 see him with another, in the park ; at " 
 
 Eichard Strong opened the door, whereupon she
 
 THE WEITEK OF THE LETTER 261 
 
 paused, hesitated, but something in his face caused her 
 to pass out. Beyond the threshold, however, she turned ; 
 her eyes looked unutterable things. 
 
 "That is it," she said. "Just like a man ! I do you 
 the favor. I open your eyes to your wife. This is how 
 you thank me." 
 
 And with a vindictive little laugh, she was gone.
 
 CHAPTEE VII 
 
 BEFORE THE BATTLE 
 
 On the afternoon of the third day, Mr. Dalton 
 returned to- town, and, dusty from his journey, 
 presented himself at the office. To Tim Taplin, 
 whom he met at the door, he absently confided the fact 
 that the 'trip had heen a tiresome one and asked if Mr. 
 Strong was in. The chief clerk replied that he was, but 
 that a meeting of the bank directors was being held and 
 would probably be in progress for half an hour. Still, if 
 Mr. Dalton desired to communicate with Mr. Strong im- 
 mediately 
 
 "It doesn't matter," replied Charlie, quickh r , an ex- 
 pression almost of relief crossing his face, and turned to- 
 ward his office. He lingered there but a short time, 
 however, glancing over his mail. He soon pushed the 
 letters impatiently aside and got up; for a moment he 
 stood leaning against his desk ; then reached for his cane 
 and walked out. At the St. Nicholas he stopped and 
 stepped to the bar. His lips felt dry and the cheerful 
 clinking of the ice in the glass had a grateful sound. He 
 sipped the cooling beverage mechanically. - 
 262
 
 BEFORE THE BATTLE 263 
 
 "I tell you they hold the market in the palm of their 
 hands !" 
 
 "Nonsense ! The heavy crops the increasing foreign 
 demand for our securities " 
 
 From the hotel and the ever-flowing loquacity of the 
 bar-room speculators, Charlie made his way to his rooms, 
 a suite of apartments not far from Madison Square, 
 which he shared in common with Mr. Marks, and there 
 he found the faithful Tom in waiting. That gentleman 
 grasped his hand cordially, with many inquiries as to his 
 journey, to which Dalton responded briefly, if not curtly, 
 and threw himself on the sofa. The Shadow lighted a 
 pipe, which he drew from his pocket, and surveyed the 
 other with a good-nature that soon, however, became 
 mingled with friendly solicitude. 
 
 "You look a bit done up, Charlie." 
 
 Dalton laughed shortly. "I feel it." 
 
 Tom shook his head. "Take it easier, old chap !" 
 
 Charlie lay back, stared at the ceiling; then regarded 
 his satellite in a peculiar manner. 
 
 "Tom," he said, "have you ever been driven by a single 
 desire you couldn't shake off ; a mad desire that masters 
 you ; makes a slave of you ?" 
 
 Mr. Marks looked startled. "I suppose you have beeD 
 speculating again," he returned, vaguely and apprehen- 
 sively.
 
 264 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 Dalton laughed oddly. "If it were only that, Tom !" 
 
 The other's face furrowed; he held the pipe more 
 tightly in his hand ; stared at it with a frown. 
 
 "I don't mind telling you/' went on Charlie, after a 
 pause, "that I've been under a devil of a strain. A devil 
 of a strain !" he repeated half -absently. "But if I win, 
 I win out big. If I don't " He brought his hands to- 
 gether "but it's got to go ; got to ! It can't fail." 
 
 "What can't?" 
 
 Dalton did not reply; only stretched himself ner- 
 yously, and Tom arose. 
 
 "Charlie," he said, "I don't like it on my word, I 
 don't !" It was a vigorous protest to emanate from the 
 Shadow, but it seemed lost on the empty air. Mr. 
 Marks strode to and fro. "It sounds too much like 
 plunging !" he added, stopping suddenly. " As if failure 
 meant too much ; more than you ought to risk !" 
 
 "Bisk !" Dalton regarded Tom with a scornful start. 
 "What do I care about the risk? If you had started 
 with my handicap, " he broke off abruptly. "When a 
 fellow's got a millstone, he's got to rise or sink by no 
 gradual process." 
 
 "What nonsense are you talking now ?" Tom's honest 
 eyes shone with genuine bewilderment. 
 
 Charlie clasped his hands beneath his head. "Xon- 
 sense ! Yes ; that's it," he said.
 
 BEFORE THE BATTLE 265 
 
 Mr. Marks watched him a moment. "You're done 
 up," he said. "Better take a nap, and I'll sit here with 
 my books and my pipe. That will be like the old days 
 when I had to grind to pass the exams and you could do 
 it taking it easy. That was after you jerked me out of 
 the creek. Couldn't get rid of me, so you had to take me 
 in out of charity. Kern ember, old boy ?" 
 
 Mr. Dalton did not respond; for some time he lay 
 without speaking, his bright, restless eyes belying the im- 
 mobility of body; then raised himself on his elbow. 
 
 "Seen Miss Stanton since I've been away, Tom?" 
 
 "N~o," replied Mr. Marks, immediately beginning to 
 puff again at his pipe, 
 
 Dalton sat up. "Lend me a hand, Tom. I'm dusty as 
 a tramp and must soon be off." 
 
 Half an hour later Charlie again swung out into the 
 street and up Broadway. Ordinarily mindful of what 
 was going on around him, Dalton in the present instance 
 paid little attention to the bustle and stir of the thor- 
 oughfare. He had eyes neither for the women with 
 flounces and parasolettes wending their way in carriages 
 to Weller's for a pastry or a sandwich, nor for the trim 
 maids wearing prismatic hats. Even a shop-window, re- 
 splendent with the snowy orange-blossom, the crimson 
 cactus and the regal passion flower, failed to attract his 
 casual glance.
 
 266 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 At the square where stood the Strong mansion, which 
 he presently reached, he paused, hesitated, and then 
 turned into the inclosure. His face changed a little as 
 he mounted the steps ; he seemed to experience some diffi- 
 culty in finding the card which he handed to the maid 
 that answered his summons. 
 
 "Mrs. Strong is ill and has not seen any one to-day," 
 said the girl. 
 
 "Ill ?" He looked down. "Perhaps, if you took up my 
 card" 
 
 The maid turned and went .up stairs and for some time 
 he continued to wait. 
 
 "Mrs. Strong will have to be excused." 
 
 The voice of the maid broke in upon his thoughts. 
 Charlie drew his gloves more snugly upon his hands ; 
 moved with deliberation toward the door ; paused. 
 
 "It is rather important I should communicate with 
 Mrs. Strong," he murmured vaguely. 
 
 And taking a note-book from his pocket, with hand 
 somewhat unsteady, he scribbled a few words on one of 
 the pages, then, folding the paper, he handed it to the 
 girl. 
 
 "Give this to Mrs. Strong/' 
 
 The maid took the note. How long was she gone? 
 When she returned, she gave him an envelope which, with 
 an assumption of carelessness, he thrust into his pocket.
 
 BEFOEE THE BATTLE 267 
 
 "Tell Mrs. Strong I hope she will soon be herself 
 again." 
 
 In the square he glanced back at the house. The 
 shades were half-raised, but the heavy lace curtains fell 
 behind with obscuring effect. The pensiveness of the 
 sky, and the sinking sun shining through a haze of sullen 
 September mist, lent a depressing background to the 
 scene. 
 
 Turning the corner, he quickly opened the envelope; 
 scanned the bit of paper that fell out : 
 
 "I should like to see you very much. There is some- 
 thing I must say to you. If not now, when may I come ?"' 
 
 For a moment Dalton stared at it ; then slowly tore it 
 into bits. It was his own note returned unanswered. 
 
 With flushed face he stood there, indecisive, nervously 
 tapping the curb with his cane, then beckoned to the 
 driver of a public carriage at the entrance of the inclos- 
 ure. The man, dozing on his seat, by some perception 
 of an additional sense appeared cognizant of the prox- 
 imity of a fare, and awakening his cob, drew up to the 
 curb with an air of fine expectancy and readiness. 
 
 Dalton hesitated, glanced at his watch, and with a 
 start recalled an important meeting. 
 
 "The Fifth Avenue Hotel," he said, and entered the 
 dilapidated vehicle.
 
 268 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 At the hotel in question, a keen observer might have 
 noticed the peculiar actions of sundry individuals who 
 had entered the lobby by the side entrance at divers 
 times during the last half-hour. A little man with a 
 black beard came in quietly and, stepping to the 
 clerk, put a question to him in an undertone. Upon 
 receiving the answer, he- moved carelessly across the hall, 
 and, entering a door which was opened opportunely on 
 the other side, found himself in the car of the "perpen- 
 dicular railway," as it was then called, that intersected 
 every story. 
 
 No sooner had he been whirled out of sight than a 
 large man with a bulldog face appeared, lighted a cigar 
 and strolled up and down. He was joined by another 
 gentleman, with a cast in one eye and a shrewd if not 
 benevolent countenance, but these two persons separated 
 almost as soon as they met. Shortly afterward one of 
 them sauntered leisurely up the stairway and the other 
 got into the "new-fangled" car of the upright railway. 
 Several other men strode cautiously into the lobby and, 
 without show of precipitancy, were conveyed or conveyed 
 themselves upward, to where, in a large room in a se- 
 cluded corner, Dalton some time later found them all as- 
 sembled. 
 
 The little man with the black beard looked over the 
 company, locked the door, and opened a box of cigars.
 
 BEFOKE THE BATTLE 269; 
 
 "The caucus will come to order/' he said and then, 
 in a terse, businesslike manner, went on at once: 
 "There's only twenty-five millions of gold in the city. 
 The short interest will have to settle to-morrow." 
 
 "You think the time has come?" The man with the 
 bulldog face snapped his jaws aggressively. 
 
 "To-morrow ! to-morrow ! to-morrow !" returned the 
 little gentleman, with a growing emphasis. "Are there 
 any objections ?" 
 
 No one answered. "That point then is settled," said 
 the speaker, crisply. 
 
 "Are you sure of Grant?" asked the man with a cast 
 in his eye. 
 
 The little gentleman turned to Charlie. 
 
 "What does Corbin say about that?" 
 
 The young man passed his hand through his hair ; he 
 looked around quickly, as if recalled to a sudden sense of 
 his surroundings. The little gentleman repeated his 
 question. 
 
 "That the president will stick," answered Dalton. 
 
 "Corbin ought to know," said some one. "He's re- 
 lated to Grant." 
 
 He of Jubilee fame stroked his ponderous mustache. 
 "I'll answer for the president. He has written Boutwell 
 to sell no gold. The executive fiat has apparently placed 
 the treasury of the United States where it can not snoil
 
 70 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 the deal. Besides/' he added, with an ugly look, "if he 
 fails us, he knows we'll so compromise him " 
 
 The little gentleman laid his hand on the other's arm. 
 A sharp, stern look "There's no talk about compro- 
 mising." 
 
 The other laughed. "Well, the safest plan, after all, ia 
 to keep the president out of the way, and I guess while 
 he's at Newport, we've got him safe." 
 
 Comprehensive nods greeted this declaration and the 
 caucus had turned to the vital consideration of ways and 
 means for carrying out the campaign of the morrow, 
 when something white, surreptitiously thrust beneath the 
 door, arrested the attention of the company. A moment's 
 silence fell over all; then the little gentleman arose, 
 picked up the slip of paper that had so mysteriously ap- 
 peared, and opened it. Even his mask-like features ex- 
 pressed a trace of feeling. 
 
 "What is it ? Eead it out, man !" cried Fisk. 
 
 " 'Grant has left Newport.' " 
 
 Mr. Fisk swore softly. "Lemme see it," he said, and, 
 clenching his cigar tightly between his teeth, examined 
 the message. "It says that, sure enough," he continued. 
 'Tes, and the writing's all right " Abruptly he paused. 
 "I know who sent it. But where has Grant gone ?" 
 
 "To Washington, no doubt," commented the little gen- 
 tleman, thoughtfully.
 
 BEFORE THE BATTLE 271 
 
 "Then he must have become suspicious ?" 
 
 "N"ot necessarily. At any rate, he can't know to-mor- 
 row is the day we have fixed upon." 
 
 "But he'll soon learn to-morrow," was the signifi- 
 cant response. 
 
 "That's just it. We must telegraph our friends there ; 
 have him intercepted or met at the train and got out of 
 town. Grant must not he in Washington to-morrow," he 
 announced determinedly. 
 
 "But how can he be intercepted, or got away?" asked a 
 dubious voice. 
 
 "That is the problem," said the little gentleman, with 
 a saturnine smile, "to be solved." 
 
 The members of the caucus looked at the floor, the 
 walls, the ceiling, rather than at each other. 
 
 "Eureka !" blurted out Mr. Eisk, suddenly. 
 
 All turned, regarding him inquiringly. 
 
 ''There's Denham. Just the man ! He's a good friend 
 of ours and an old war comrade of Grant's. Grant thinks 
 a good deal of him. He is just now sick, dangerously 
 sick, at his home near Clarksville, not far from Wash- 
 ington. Now if we could get a telegram from him 
 to the president, asking Grant to stop off " 
 
 "Can it be worked?" asked the man with the cast in 
 his eye. 
 
 "Anything can be worked," said Jim Jubilee, bruskly,
 
 272 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "provided you know how to work it. And by the eter- 
 nal !" he added, "we'll work this and the corner, too." 
 
 "Unless Eichard Strong and the gentlemen he has in- 
 duced to join with him in a pool to oppose us should 
 prove an obstacle/' remarked the man with the bulldog 
 face, ironically. 
 
 "How about that pool, Dalton?" said Fisk. "Any- 
 thing new ?" 
 
 Charlie moved uncomfortably. "I don't know of any- 
 thing." 
 
 "You think, though, Mr. Strong really means to stand 
 in the way?" 
 
 Again the young man seemed to answer reluctantly. 
 "I am sure of it." 
 
 "Well, then, let him look out for the Juggernaut !" 
 
 The little gentleman arose. "I believe that is all," he 
 said. "The caucus is dissolved." 
 
 At about the same hour some one tapped gently upon 
 the door of Mr. Strong's room at the Astor House. In 
 answer to the occupant's response to come in, a darky en- 
 tered. 
 
 "Gentleman send you dis card, suh," handing him a 
 sealed envelope. 
 
 Upon the card which Eichard Strong found within
 
 BEFORE THE BATTLE 273 
 
 was written a single line, evidently something of mo- 
 ment, for he started perceptibly. 
 
 "Any answer, suh ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 The darky vanished and Richard Strong, after a brief 
 consideration, placed the card carefully in his pccketbook 
 and without taking his hat, left the room. As he walked 
 down the hall he scrutinized the numbers on the doors, 
 finally pausing at the end of the corridor. Apparently 
 he found the number he sought, for at once he knocked. 
 The door was opened by some one within and Mr. Strong 
 stepped across the threshold. 
 
 "How do you do, sir ?" 
 
 A short, bearded man, to whom his appearance was 
 evidently not unexpected, greeted him. 
 
 "Excuse my troubling you, Mr. Strong," he said, 
 extending his hand, "but when one is in doubt, he seeks 
 what he regards as authority." 
 
 Mr. Strong's answering grasp was as firm as the 
 other's was cordial. "A request from the president of the 
 United States," he replied, "is a command. But I did 
 not know you were in New York, Mr. Grant," he added. 
 
 "Nor do I want it known," answered the other. "I 
 was on my way to Washington and thought it best to 
 stop over here. But won't you sit down?" 
 
 "Thank you." Mr. Strong took the chair offered him
 
 274 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 and silently awaited the president's further pleasure. The 
 latter did not speak at once, but sat for some moments in 
 profound thought. When he looked up his manner was 
 troubled ; the black cigar between his lips seemed not to 
 afford him that consolation he usual ly found in the 
 Indian weed. 
 
 "Mr. Strong," he remarked tentatively, "it is much 
 easier to direct the movements of an army than to solve 
 the financial problems of peace." 
 
 To this remark,, which seemed put out at a venture, 
 the visitor replied in kind. "Perhaps because there is no 
 peace in the world of finance," he said. 
 
 The president regarded the speaker steadily. A less 
 reserved person would have come to the subject upper- 
 most at once ; but Grant was ever content to approach his 
 goal with care and deliberation. He studied the man be- 
 fore him, noticing the suggestions of power and reserve 
 in face and figure which were so largely his own heritage. 
 
 "Mr. Strong," he said at length, "it has been repeat- 
 edly represented to me that the prosperity of the country 
 depends upon the government's stopping the sale of 
 gold." 
 
 His listener made no answer and Grant waited a mo- 
 ment, then rose and walked over to the table. 
 
 "What do you think?" he asked bluntly. 
 
 If the president had been slow in reaching the query,
 
 BEFOEE THE BATTLE 275 
 
 the other seemed in no haste to give him the response he 
 desired. 
 
 "The prosperity of the country depends on many 
 things," Eiehard Strong returned circumspectly. 
 
 Grant took the cigar from his lips. 
 
 "Good !" he said. "I like a cautious reply. But tell 
 me more definitely what you think." 
 
 "It is not so much what I think as what you think." 
 
 The president's face became grave, earnest. 
 
 "Many persons on the Street are not so averse to with- 
 holding their confidence," he replied. "If I do but turn 
 a corner, one of them runs into me. If I go to Newport, 
 I meet them in the sea. Is it accident ? They are all of 
 a mind ; all patriotic ! You are about the only person on 
 the Street who has not sought me. Although Corbin told 
 me that you ' He paused a moment. "What you may 
 tell me I shall be very pleased to consider." 
 
 It was a long speech for General Grant to make; he 
 whose taciturnity had become proverbial. At its conclu- 
 sion the other arose likewise. 
 
 "Thank you," he said simply. For a few moments they 
 looked into each other's eyes. Then the ghost of a smile 
 crossed Eiehard Strong's face. 
 
 "Mr. President, I have always known what you would 
 do, when you had thoroughly looked into the matter. I 
 know now what you have no intention of doing when the
 
 276 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 time to act arrives. You are not going to withhold gov- 
 ernment gold from the market for the purpose of en- 
 abling certain unscrupulous manipulators to get control 
 of and to maintain a corner on the metal." 
 
 Over Grant's features came a trace of surprise. Had 
 he entirely expected this answer ? Certainly it seemed to 
 please him. 
 
 "Mr. Strong, I should not have liked to have had 
 you opposed to me in the Wilderness. You have too 
 shrewd an intuition." 
 
 "Intuition !" said the other. "Perhaps. But I know 
 President Grant, and, when it comes to a vital issue, he 
 will investigate for himself, decide for the right, and 
 'fight it out on that line if it takes all summer/ " 
 
 Again the president pressed the other's hand. "I am 
 obliged to you," he said. "I am glad that your views are 
 in consonance with my own, although," he added 
 thoughtfully, "I was not exactly prepared for it. I got 
 from Corbin some sort of an impression to the contrary." 
 Richard Strong's eyes shot a look of quick interrogation. 
 "Perhaps the presence of some one from your office NT. 
 Dalton, in Washington had something to do with it." 
 
 Mr. Grant caught the expression on his listener's face 
 and paused. "You did not know?" 
 
 "I did not." 
 [t was wit 
 short silence, spoke again.
 
 BEFORE THE BATTLE 277 
 
 "I knew Mr. Dalton had been in Washington. I did 
 not know, however, that he had affiliated himself with 
 the gold clique. I regret you should have drawn any in- 
 ference of my mind from his presence there." 
 
 The president's face darkened. A moment he smoked 
 ominously. "You will hear from me, Mr. Strong/' he 
 said at length. And then at the door : "Good night. I 
 am very glad to have had this interview." 
 
 As Richard Strong stepped again into the hall, a man 
 who had been skulking at the end of the corridor, watch- 
 ing the door of the president's room, wheeled abruptly 
 and walked quickly away.
 
 CHAPTEK VIII 
 
 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 A miscellaneous, tremulous host had congregated 
 on New Street, shouting and gesticulating. Before 
 long, every entrance to the Exchange became so 
 blocked by the still-gathering legions, that strength 
 and patience were required by him who desired 
 or found it necessary to work his way through the press 
 of people. Business became stagnant; merchants left 
 their offices and apprehensively repaired to the scene of 
 strife. What had happened to values ? What did it mean ? 
 Tampering with gold ; speculating in that precious com- 
 modity had precipitated an alarmingly unsettled condi- 
 tion, which might reach disastrously from one end of 
 the land to the other, and 
 
 "The country is going to everlasting smash," was the 
 general verdict. 
 
 To the conservative man of trade, it is true, this an- 
 swer seemed far from satisfying. He had been enjoying 
 good sales and reaping rich net earnings ; with the wheels 
 of industry all humming, wreck and ruin seemed unreal, 
 278
 
 BLACK FKIDAY 279 
 
 uncalled for. Yet here was chaos ; values had run mad, 
 and financial institutions were tottering. Small wonder 
 he felt at sea; lost; groping in the dark. 
 
 Before the opening of the gold-room, the announce- 
 ment had gone forth that the yellow metal would be ad- 
 vanced that day to two hundred. This startling state- 
 ment sent the color from the cheeks of the anxious bears, 
 and they regarded one another as if they knew their doom 
 had been sounded. At eleven o'clock a foretaste of 
 what seemed in store gold had gone up almost twenty 
 points, and the ranks of the opposition showed many 
 signs of demoralization. Before the fierce aggression of 
 the attacking party, the weaker defenses were carried and 
 only the old campaigners yet stood by their guns exposed 
 to the cross-fire of those fatal buying orders. 
 
 "What ish it now ?" A frantic Israelite caught at the 
 sleeve of a broker. 
 
 "One hundred and fifty." 
 
 "Mcin Gott im Himmel!" And the Hebrew fell back 
 in a faint. 
 
 Fiercer raged the fight. "Buy ! buy ! " sounded the 
 unvarying note of the coterie. 
 
 At the same time confidential brokers of the gold 
 clique, under flag of truce, quietly began to confer with 
 the enemy, advising unconditional surrender or the al- 
 ternative of a further inflation of values, until the dread-
 
 280 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 ed two hundred' mark was reached. In the face of this 
 threat, many belligerents threw down their weapons ; 
 wended their way to the headquarters of their assailants, 
 accepted the terms offered, and mournfully departed 
 from the scene of battle. Others, however, of a sterner, 
 more martial mold, yet elected to remain on the field 
 and fight. 
 
 Standing near the fountain, Dalton watched the exo- 
 dus of certain of the enemy. In his hand he held a slip, 
 containing his instructions from the clique, which hav- 
 ing been fulfilled, gave him a moment for pleasing con- 
 templation. The din was like a huzza to his ears ; a tri- 
 umphal discord of a battle whose end was no longer a 
 matter of doubt. His face was burning; his hand dry 
 and hot, and he dragged it in the basin of cold water 
 without being conscious of a reactionary sensation. 
 
 "Won 1" 
 
 Like the soft arpeggios of a harp the water tinkled, 
 and he looked down into it to see his own face. 
 
 "Kich ! Eich !" the reflection seemed to gibber back at 
 him, pale, worn, yet glorying, Narcissus-like. Around 
 him were other white faces but in their eyes was despair. 
 With a consciousness that he sat upon a pinnacle of 
 power far removed from the brunt of wreck and disaster, 
 Dalton contemplated the losing host. Vaguely he won- 
 dered why a messenger did not bring him further in- 
 structions. Were the clique relaxing their efforts? N"o;
 
 BLACK FRIDAY 281 
 
 other brokers, who, he knew, were identified with the 
 high-gold party, had not ceased to operate. The sight of 
 Tim Taplin's face in the crowd gave him something of a 
 start, but smiling, self-possessed, he faced that gentle- 
 man. 
 
 "Mr. Strong is still selling, Tim ?" 
 
 "He has been selling all morning, sir," answered the 
 clerk, in a low tone, "as you must know, sir." 
 
 Dalton's features grew rather pinched. Frequently, as 
 the exigencies of business had demanded, he had ap- 
 peared in that room in the past. Eailroads, banks, 
 moneyed institutions were connected' with it by wire and, 
 in common with these men who were not in any sense 
 speculators, Richard Strong had need of a daily supply 
 of gold. That Mr. Taplin should consider him still 
 agent of his employer was not to be wondered at, and 
 Charlie made no haste to undeceive him. 
 
 "I think Mr. Strong is much worried," went on Tim, 
 cautiously. "He had set his heart on stemming this 
 movement, or conspiracy, and now : 
 
 "It's likely to swamp him," said Charlie. 
 
 "It looks as if it would swamp anything," murmured 
 Taplin, gloomily, as he glided away. 
 
 A moment, perhaps, Dalton's face showed a trace of 
 compunction, but if so, another emotion replaced it; a 
 sentiment akin to greed, avarice. He looked about him
 
 282 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 more impatiently, when suddenly the room seemed to 
 whirl around. He steadied himself at the fountain rail 
 and smiled. Faint ? nonsense ! Then he remembered 
 he had not eaten that morning, or hardly touched food 
 the day before; that he had been living on his nervous 
 energies. Xow after the supreme moment he found them 
 failing him. 
 
 "Ridiculous !" he told himself, and, straightening his 
 frame, looked at his watch. There was a lull in the 
 storm and he hesitated. 
 
 "Safe enough to leave, I guess," he thought. "Any- 
 how, I'm going." And as he passed out, "One hundred 
 and fifty," the last quotation he heard, was eminently re- 
 assuring. 
 
 Without, such pandemonium had not been witnessed 
 before in the Street since the days when the patriots 
 threw down the statue of King George and cut off its 
 head, or when they marched to Trinity to compel the 
 rector to stop praying for the king and the royal family. 
 !N"ow it was not a work of art the throng sought to de- 
 molish, but certain members of the "Erie crowd." 
 
 "That's one of them. I saw him with Fisk." 
 
 In the midst of this disappointed host, Dalton found 
 himself, his torn coat and bent hat bearing testimony to 
 the difficulties he had experienced in elbowing his way 
 through the gathering. He was conscious of a painful
 
 BLACK FRIDAY 283 
 
 throbbing of his temples ; of an impression of the sur- 
 rounding scene, vague, indeterminate ; of hearing plainly 
 the uproar, yet feeling himself in an indefinite degree re- 
 mote from it. 
 
 Oblivious alike of angry glances or muttered threats, 
 the young man walked on. The fresh air revived him; 
 he wanted to be alone, in some place where he could 
 think. Pausing irresolutely, the door of a basement 
 restaurant, not a stone's throw from the center of dis- 
 turbance, caught his eye, and, descending the steps, he 
 entered a small grimy room. It was not the kind of 
 resort he was wont to frequent, and now, in his new- 
 found opulence, the sawdust floors, the sooty walls, ap- 
 peared especially incongruous. But he was hungry, 
 weary, and minded neither the character of the fre- 
 quenters nor the quality of the steaming lunch that was 
 being served. He even felt quietly amused, as, seating 
 himself before a greasy table, he took off his hat 
 and began nervously to fan himself. He looked straight 
 before him; the golden profits were all there; tangible, 
 firm. Again he saw the chimerical fractions dancing 
 before his eye; once more pursued them. 
 
 "Gold gold/' he repeated. With gold all could be 
 bought. All save 
 
 A shadow crossed his face, but the buoyancy of the
 
 284 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 moment dispelled the passing cloud. Why despair that 
 day nothing seemed impossible there were ways even 
 to the most shining goal. 
 
 "Keg'lar dinner, sir?" 
 
 "Anything, and a glass of sherry." 
 
 The man made some irrelevant comment and vanished. - 
 Still Charlie continued to review the events of the morn- 
 ing. His contract with the gold clique assured him a 
 certain portion of the profits, which in the aggregate al- 
 ready could be figured in the millions ; besides which, he 
 had operated a little for himself as well as for his asso- 
 ciates. The sum total accumulating to him made a show- 
 ing altogether satisfying. He repeated it several times, 
 The figures were exciting, stimulating. Not less pleas- 
 ing was the accompanying thought that he could now 
 sever all connection with Eichard Strong; terminate the 
 false position in which he was placed. 
 
 Mechanically, at first, he began to eat ; then with appe- 
 tite. Horn-handle knives, pewter spoons all were one 
 to him. The stew had a flavor Delmonico's lunches had 
 lacked; his color came back; his heart began to bound. 
 The strident tones of a news-vender broke in upon his 
 thoughts, and, beckoning to the lad, he bought a paper, 
 hurriedly glanced over it. In the leading article a few 
 sentences caught his eye. "They have tampered with 
 the government * * precipitated a cataclysm * 
 the gold-room is doomed * * its walls will topple/*
 
 BLACK FRIDAY 285 
 
 Scornfully he put by the paper ; let the editor rail and 
 rave; they the gold crowd must expect a certain 
 amount of opprobrium ! What did it matter ? People 
 always threw stones at success; at the same time, they 
 never failed to bend to it. Abuse and worship strangely 
 intermingled. The golden calf was at once an idol and 
 a target ; and so it would always be ! 
 
 Charlie laughed ; he opened and closed his hands as if 
 to test the strength of his fingers; then pushed back hia 
 chair. The clock told him he had been absent a little 
 over a quarter of an hour. 
 
 "Wonder how high it is now !" he thought, and, rising, 
 left the table, dropping a piece of silver into the hand 
 of the expectant waiter as he passed through the door. 
 
 The movement of a crowd of people on the sidewalk at 
 first carried him with it, but soon he escaped from the 
 tumultuous stream. 
 
 "Burn them out !" 
 
 For a moment Charlie stood and watched the throng 
 as it swept on toward the offices of Messrs. Gould and 
 Fisk. 
 
 "Now what good will that do?" thought the young 
 man. "What fools people are when they lose their heads ! 
 All the same" Charlie shrugged his shoulders "I 
 shouldn't care to be there when they arrive." 
 
 And turning, he again darted into a doorway and re- 
 entered the gold-room.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 "Mr. Dalton is buying gold, sir," said Tim Tap- 
 lin as he entered the office of his employer that 
 morning. 
 
 Mr. Strong- glanced up from his desk. 
 
 "He seems to be acting for the clique," went on Mr. 
 Taplin, in a puzzled tone. "I don't understand it." 
 
 "Has he been here to-day?" 
 
 A negative response and Mr. Strong looked down. 
 The young man's trips to Washington the "personal 
 business" to be attended to there seemed little room for 
 doubt hosy Charlie had been occupied at the capital city ! 
 Mr. Strong recalled, too, Dalton's remarks about Fisk 
 Grant 
 
 "They say the president has been sequestered by the 
 clique, sir," went on the clerk, anxiously. Eichard 
 Strong wheeled around in his chair. "The Street is full 
 of the rumor that he was on his way to Washington, but 
 was lured away to a small place remote from telegraphic 
 communication. There's a story about an old friend 
 286
 
 NOON 287 
 
 who was dying and Grant's being induced to stop off. 
 And now he couldn't order the sale of government gold 
 if he wanted to at least, that's what they say," added 
 the clerk, deprecatorily. 
 
 Mr. Strong made no response, but his face had grown 
 serious, and for some time he did not move, sitting with 
 his eyes fastened on a single point, as if seeking the heart 
 of .this new and unexpected difficulty that had arisen to 
 complicate a situation already sufficiently involved. If 
 the report was correct, the president's apparent inaction 
 at a time when the country was threatened with a crisis, 
 could be understood. He had intimated he would act; 
 he had not acted. Was it because he could not act? Iff 
 seemed incredible he should thus have been put out of 
 the contest, and yet Eichard Strong knew the subtle and 
 devious contrivances of which the clique were capable; 
 the resources they had at their command, and the lengths 
 they might go to attain their purpose. 
 
 But to have practically abducted the president of the 
 United States! 
 
 "General Grant started for Washington yesterday af- 
 ternoon," said Mr. Strong, suddenly. "Use the wire and 
 find out if he reached there." 
 
 While waiting the confirmation of this talk of the 
 Street, he could not but speculate what would be the re- 
 sult of even the report of such a coup on the part of the
 
 88 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 clique. What effect would this tremendous news have 
 upon values; what moral influence would it exercise 
 upon the members of the pool Kichard Strong had or- 
 ganized, and which was already struggling against for- 
 midable odds? 
 
 He was soon to learn. Toward noon several of them 
 sought him with doleful countenances, intimating a de- 
 sire to withdraw from any further community of "short" 
 interests. 
 
 "It's suicide not to," they said. 
 
 Kichard Strong did not gainsay this statement. 
 
 "The clique have offered to settle; why should we not 
 save what we can ?" 
 
 "Why not?" he answered. 
 
 "Then you, too, will compromise ?" they eagerly asked. 
 
 "I ?" The veins stood out on his forehead. "No !" 
 
 "But with Grant in the hands of the clique, remote 
 'from telegraphic communication, what hope is left ? You 
 will be ruined." 
 
 "I do not know," said Kichard Strong, "just what hope 
 is left, as you term it, but I know I am committed to one 
 course. For my part, I do not believe General Grant is 
 a man lightly turned from his destination or his pur- 
 pose. I know such a statement, unsupported, is unsat- 
 isfactory. For myself and this will sound equally rea- 
 sonless I can only say there are exigencies wherein a
 
 NOON 289 
 
 man acts in a certain way because he can not act other- 
 wise. Call it obstinacy, suicide, what you please; you 
 are free to withdraw." 
 
 Which they did, and Mr. Strong continued to throw- 
 over securities to the waves without quelling them. How 
 many millions had the pool he represented traded in? 
 The total transactions of the gold-room were already 
 close to the half-billion mark. Even he could not but 
 begin to feel appalled by the magnitude of the trading; 
 figures had come to mean nothing ; sober calculation had 
 run riot and anarchism was the result. 
 
 "One hundred and sixty !" 
 
 He had walked into the adjoining office and was lis- 
 tening to the telegraph instrument that connected with 
 the gold-room. 
 
 "Sixty sixty-one " 
 
 His eye followed the flying fractions. When would 
 he hear from the capital city? He began to ex- 
 perience impatience over the delay in procuring authen- 
 tic information; intolerance at thus being obliged to 
 grope in the dark. But the news came at length : 
 
 "The president is not in Washington." 
 
 It was true, then; indubitable; a fact! That Grant 
 had been decoyed away he could no longer fail to believe. 
 Simultaneously with the confirmation of this rumor, 
 came the noisy expression of a startling announcement:
 
 290 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "The gold corner is complete ! The gold corner is 
 complete !" 
 
 Several voices at first were crying it on the thorough- 
 fare below; the turbulent crowd took it up; their tones 
 pierced the air. Mr. Strong looked at them angrily. 
 Could one believe such harbingers of evil; sheep that 
 bleated one after the other? 
 
 "Impossible !" he said, folding his arms, as if with a 
 word he would dispose of the matter. 
 
 "The gold corner" 
 
 He closed the window, but he could not shut out the 
 memory of the faces below, or exclude entirely the noise 
 of outside tumult. A sharp, quick sound at his elbow 
 soon, however, arrested his attention. Click ! Click ! 
 The metallic beating of the soaring quotations pervaded 
 the office ; it seemed in consonance with the throbbing of 
 his temples. He strove to think of what should now 
 be done ; if he had left anything undone ; but the futility 
 of his own efforts came over him like a revelation. A 
 feeling of surprise mingled with his other emotions ; that 
 Grant, the great strategist on the field of battle, should 
 have been overcome by the machinations of the gold 
 crowd ! The honor and integrity of the chief executive 
 he never doubted ; Grant's enemies he knew would offer 
 harsh criticisms; the country would talk, but Eichard 
 Strong only experienced disappointment ; regret. 
 
 "A telegram, sir !"
 
 NOON 291 
 
 Absently Mr. Strong took it, opened it. It had been 
 sent from a little town not far from Washington. Whom 
 did he know there? Suddenly his eyes flashed as they 
 caught the name of the sender. The president the mes- 
 sage was from him ! Mr. Grant might be sequestered, but 
 he was not isolated. Quickly Richard Strong scanned the 
 contents ; then turned to the telegraph instrument : 
 
 "Gold ! one hundred and eighty " 
 
 Was it too late? Would the president be able to in- 
 tervene only after the injury had been done; after the 
 corner had been actually consummated ? These thougths 
 crossed his mind as he rapidly indited the message. 
 
 "Send this at once," he said to the telegraph operator. 
 Then turning to Tim Taplin, he added shortly: "Sell 
 ten million gold at the market." 
 
 It was a culminating command; a final effort to ar- 
 rest for the moment the upward trend of the metal. Even 
 as he gave the order, he knew that possibly the battle had 
 already been fought and won by the gold crowd ; that he 
 was, perhaps, only committing the last of his treasures 
 to the deep. 
 
 While waiting, he was strangely calm. Panoramic 
 glimpses of the hard and arduous struggle, his life, 
 floated before him. Could it be that all he had attained 
 could be swept away at a breath ? A fragment of one of 
 Mr. Beecher's sermons came to his mind: "A man is 
 rich according to what he is ; not according to what he
 
 292 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 has." He thought it strange he should think of that now. 
 
 "You will find me at the gold-room." 
 
 As Mr. Strong with these words passed out of the of- 
 fice and down the corridor, Tim Taplin, who had just 
 come in from the Street, looked after him gloomily. 
 
 "The pool has failed ! It will have to settle with the 
 gold crowd !" 
 
 On every hand expressions of this nature had met 
 Tim's ears, and now, as he stood at the corner of his desk, 
 leaning his head on his hand, they repeated themselves in 
 his mind. For the first time his confidence in his em- 
 ployer had suffered a rude set-back; already upon the 
 very walls he seemed to read the fatal handwriting. He 
 felt himself as the small actor in a great drama, an in- 
 separable part of the rapidly unfolding denouement. 
 Absorbed for some moments in these mournful rumina- 
 tions, lost to his immediate surroundings, he did not 
 hear the door of the office open and shut. 
 
 "Is Mr. Strong in?" 
 
 Tim looked up with a start to perceive a young 
 woman, tall and erect, whose clear eyes were fastened 
 upon him. Where had he seen her before ? Suddenly an 
 indefinite impression became definite. At the church; 
 walking toward the flower-covered altar ; very beautiful, 
 very proud ; very cold as she seemed now ! 
 
 "No ; he isn't in, Mrs. Strong," Tim hastened to reply.
 
 NOON 293 
 
 "When do you expect him ?" 
 
 "He did not say and it's hard to tell this has been, 
 a terrible day on the Street " Disconcerted, the clerk's 
 voice died into indefiniteness. 
 
 The widely opened eyes continued to interrogate him. 
 Fragments of a conversation overheard in the 'bus re- 
 curred to her : "Some of the most prominent men in the 
 country will be wiped out are going to the wall!" 
 That meant losing their fortunes ; their money. 
 
 "Is Mr. Strong much worried?" 
 
 Tim hesitated. "Mr. Strong is, of course, very 
 anxious ; he has staked a good deal to-day, but " Tim's 
 reservation was almost guiltily checked and he ended 
 by looking dejectedly away. 
 
 The silence grew as she studied him until Tim, with 
 an effort, again spoke : 
 
 "It may not be so bad after all, Mrs. Strong," he 
 said, and raised his eyes to her face when he suddenly 
 became aware of a change in her. 
 
 The proud coldness had been touched by a sudden 
 radiance. 
 
 "As Mr. Strong is so busy and so worried, I won't 
 stop and trouble him to-day/" she said. "You need 
 not even tell him I was here." 
 
 A moment she smiled bewilderingly at Tim; then 
 moved toward the door.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE END OP THE DAY 
 
 As Charlie again entered the gold-room and strode 
 forward to the indicator which marked the trend of 
 values, that instrument showed a slightly reactionary 
 movement. Whence came it? What new undercur- 
 rent was moving? The young man first looked 
 surprised ; then frowned and turned to watch the sway- 
 ing throng, the frenzied faces. The strain he had been 
 under at the beginning of the day was renewed ; became 
 an unnatural tension. He strove to throw it off. 
 
 "Pshaw! It's nothing. A point or two whafs 
 that?" 
 
 But when emphasized by another! He stood as a 
 man in a dream; he seemed unlike himself; moved' 
 hither and thither in a chaos of thoughts. Could it be 
 possible was it possible that the clique had begun to 
 lose its grip ? Again he felt the need of more adequate 
 instructions from headquarters. What was the matter 
 with the controlling spirits ? Apparently he was forgot- 
 ten ; lost sight of in the swirl. At a loss, he began once 
 294
 
 THE END OF THE DAY 295 
 
 more to buy cautiously when suddenly, "Sell! one- 
 thirty!" came from his left, while at almost the same 
 time, "Buy ! one-sixty !" shrieked the piercing voice of 
 a Fisk broker from the other side of the room. 
 
 A feeling of consternation assailed Dalton. What 
 sort of chaos was this ? The gold crowd, made overcon- 
 fident by their early triumphs, seemed now to be fighting 
 without plan or organization. He saw his profits 
 the fortune he coveted, vanishing like a puff of smoke. 
 
 With a confused consciousness he endeavored to "cov- 
 er" his own holdings. They were absorbed, but to his dis- 
 may, at widely-varying prices, as the adverse movement 
 made itself more manifest. Charlie again paused; 
 leaned against the wall, and, taking a pad from his 
 pocket, began to figure, his usually lucid brain ex- 
 periencing unwonted difficulty in the simplest calcula- 
 tions. Oblivious of his surroundings the sound of 
 strife, the clamorous multitude new hope sprang into 
 his breast; renewed confidence in his leaders. 
 
 The check was but temporary. Certainly there had 
 been no federal interference; the clique had been left 
 to its own devices; under the circumstances, they must 
 prevail in the end. With the assurance, came another 
 thought. What did Richard Strong think of his presi- 
 dent now ? An honest man ? Perhaps, but a tool 
 
 All at once a great shout resolved itself into a cHoms 
 of voices that spread far and wide.
 
 296 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "The government is selling gold!" 
 
 Like a thunderbolt the news struck the Street. 
 
 "The government is selling! .selling! '' 
 
 The gold coterie stood aghast. Gjant intervening to 
 thwart their plans? Impossible! The exultant voice3 
 of the opposition dissipated any uncertainty or linger- 
 ing doubts. 
 
 "Down with the traitors!" 
 
 Many of the victims of the raid recovered their 
 strength; those who had been crippled forgot their 
 wounds and sprang into the lines, animated by but ono 
 purpose. 
 
 <r Death to the wreckers!" 
 
 Like the terrible recoil of a bursting wave propelled 
 by storm and tide, the waters of vengeance and fury 
 swept back upon the conspirators. They saw their doom 
 coming ; felt themselves being swallowed up ; carried out 
 beyond their depth. Yet feebly they struggled. 
 
 "Kogues! Kascals!" 
 
 Around Charlie, men seemed fighting in a cloud. 
 
 "Curse you, Dalton !" said an angry voice at his elbow. 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 The distorted face, looking into his, slowly resolved 
 itself into that of Jim Jubilee ; but the young man, like 
 one who has exhausted emotion, felt alike indifferent 
 to that gentleman's condemnation or approval. He did
 
 THE END OF THE DAY 297 
 
 the strangest thing possible for him to do the thing 
 he least felt like doing and smiled. 
 
 "I beg your pardon/' he said. 
 
 "Oh, I don't suppose you knew that Kichard Strong 
 saw Grant here in New York and that when we thought 
 the president was all right, Strong managed to reach 
 him with a telegram ! You didn't know that !" 
 
 Charlie started. So Eichard Strong had turned the 
 tide of the day's battle, after all ! By what power or 
 influence with the president? It did not occur to Dai- 
 ton to question the veracity of Fisk's statement, or to 
 ask regarding the source of this unexpected information. 
 
 "You stood by us to a certain point and then damn 
 you! you sold us out to Kichard Strong," resumed 
 Fisk. 
 
 "Would you believe me, if I denied knowledge of 
 the telegram, or of any meeting with Grant ?" 
 
 The other responded with a brusk and emphatic 
 negative. ., * >. , * . 
 
 "Then I won't deny it." And Dalton turned from 
 the angry tool -of the Erie coterie. 
 
 His throat felt on a sudden dry and sore; he looked 
 for a moment upon the sea of faces, the moving arms; 
 a tumult of excited voices seemed to draw him toward a 
 vortex. 
 
 "One million at thirty-five thirty " 
 
 It was Mr. Strong himself who spoke. Dalton did not
 
 298 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 even start as he regarded him. He, too, was pale; be- 
 tween his brows was a deep furrow. 
 
 "Two million at thirty three million " 
 
 Money was now loaning at two hundred and fifty per 
 cent. 
 
 Charlie Dalton glanced up at the clock. How slowly 
 the pointers moved ! He breathed deeply ; a certain ex- 
 hilaration seemed wearing off; he was awakening as to 
 the after-effects of an opiate. 
 
 "Brooks and Brown have failed !" "Burton, Jones 
 and Company have gone under !" 
 
 Amid the uproar he felt an unnatural numbness: a 
 deeper consciousness of the perversion of things. Me- 
 thodically he acted now; almost against his will. 
 
 "Alden, Marks and Belden are swamped!" "Marsh 
 and Burton, engulfed !" 
 
 Other eyes than his were furtively regarding the 
 clock. Never before had the iron indicators so lagged 
 in their task of marking off the minutes. A common 
 longing seemed to fill the minds of all the desire for 
 relief from the tension to witness the close of the day ! 
 No matter what the end might show; waste or havoc; 
 disruption or disorganization it would be welcomed as 
 a lull in the storm. Suddenly 
 
 "Trinity bells, with their hollow lungs 
 And their vibrant lips and brazen tongues," 
 
 began to ring. Clear, penetrating notes amid the tem- 
 pest, the reverberations were carried far and wide.
 
 THE END OF THE DAY 299 
 
 "One two three " 
 
 The day was over ! The Exchange closed until to- 
 morrow. Men wiped the perspiration from their brows. 
 At last they could look around, take their bearings, and 
 bury their dead ! 
 
 Like a man dazed, Dalton made his way from the 
 room. Occasionally he lifted his hand to his brow and 
 pressed it there ; his fingers were icy-cold, but something 
 hot seemed burning into his brain. The day what had it 
 brought for him? The whole affair had been a miser- 
 able, tremendous fiasco. Still he walked toward the office 
 of the clique; possibly some one there could hold out 
 a straw for the morrow. Four stalwart policemen 
 guarded the door; a hooting, jeering mob circulated 
 about the building. 
 
 "I should like to go in," said Charlie. 
 
 "Can't," replied one of the quartet of burly senti- 
 nels. 
 
 "But I have personal business with Mr. Gould." 
 
 "Lots of people have to-day," answered the man, with 
 a~chuckle. "But he ain't at home to callers. When he 
 saw them " jerking his thumb at the crowd "com- 
 ing, he just made for the back door, down the alley, and 
 I guess he won't be back to attend to business to-day." 
 
 Dalton stared before him a moment, then turned 
 mechanically and walked away.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE MASTER OF THE SITUATION 
 
 A dark, dreary, rainy day! But men walked, 
 unmindful of dampness or gloom over the field 
 of battle. Where the contest had occurred, the 
 vicinity of the gold-room, the scene resembled a Golgo- 
 tha a place of skulls and people of all classes and 
 conditions came to contemplate, if not to mourn. Law- 
 yers, of a speculative rather than litigious turn of mind ; 
 clerks that had lost their positions; merchants now out 
 of trade, jaundiced and panic-stricken Israelites ; visitors 
 from the rural districts all served to swell the throng 
 that once more packed the sidewalks of Broad Street. 
 
 Innumerable burrows, or basement offices on Wall or 
 William Streets were now closed and deserted, and their 
 tenants, the "human woodchucks," hovered on the out- 
 skirts of the gathering, timorous, awed, ready at any 
 moment to frisk back into their holes. Young men 
 with old heads looked older; the Oily Gammons wore 
 a mask of suffering. A number of bubble companies 
 had exploded with scarcely a "pop," and many bankers 
 300
 
 THE MASTER OP THE SITUATION 301 
 
 and brokers spawned in over-gorgeous panoply, were 
 wiped out in a breath. 
 
 With face like that of a Roman senator, set and firm, 
 the rugged commodore strode into the street and walked 
 toward his office. But a few days before, he had been 
 driving with his fair bride of six weeks ; bowling along, 
 care-free in his light wagon, drawn by two blood trot- 
 ters. Now, perforce, he turned from the solace of the- 
 myrtle to the aggravations of finance, exchanging the 
 true lover's knot for the entanglements of the market. 
 Behind him came another figure, bent, old ; moving with 
 difficulty, as if scarcely able to bear up beneath the 
 weight of broken fortunes and years. As he clattered 
 and shuffled along with the assistance of a hickory cane, 
 the burden of his thoughts found trembling utterance: 
 
 "Frisky boys! didn't gold bile ? Lord Lord help 
 us!" 
 
 Pausing before the office of Richard Strong he stood 
 wagging his head uncertainly for a moment, then slowly 
 began to mount the steps. The destination of many 
 others that morning lay at the place of business of that 
 financier, for when the smoke of battle had cleared the 
 day before, it was discovered that Mr. Strong, as chair- 
 man of the pool organized to preserve normal conditions, 
 held in his grasp the control of the situation. Yet at what 
 a risk he had gained this mastery none knew but him-
 
 302 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 self. Had Grant not become, after reading the bed- 
 side of his comrade, suddenly distrustful of the zeal of 
 his friends and of the influences that had been brought 
 to bear upon him; had he not thereupon resolved for 
 his own peace of mind., to telegraph immediately to 
 Washington to get the latest news of the situation, the 
 gold clique would have succeeded. Then it was Grant 
 had made the disquieting discovery he was twenty miles 
 removed from telegraphic communication. At once he 
 had acted with great promptitude, his suspicions thor- 
 oughly aroused, and calling for a conveyance, he had 
 driven post-haste to the nearest telegraph station, wired 
 to Washington and to Eichard Strong. 
 
 The strain of Black Friday, however, had left ita 
 impress upon the face of Mr. Strong. His expression 
 was that of a seafaring man who had brought his vessel 
 through a crisis and now would fain leave the bridge. 
 But there was yet work to be done. 
 
 In the outer hall Uncle Samuel, with quavering ac- 
 cents, asked to see the financier. 
 
 "Just say it's Mr. Brewster and he's come to settle." 
 
 For some time the old man he who had once directed 
 the destinies of great "pools" and "corners" was kept 
 waiting without. He twitched in his chair uneasily 
 and often raised his hand to his wrinkled forehead. 
 About him sharp-faced boys with messages appeared and
 
 THE MASTEK OF THE SITUATION 303 
 
 disappeared. Eegarding him curiously, the clerks nudged 
 one another. 
 
 "That's Uncle Sam'l!" "The Ursa Major!" "The 
 Old Bear!" 
 
 In his day how many men had danced attendance at 
 his heck and call ! Now he, himself, had become a pa- 
 tient loiterer before the offices of others. But oblivious 
 alike of the attention he attracted and of his surround- 
 ings, his thin lips continued to mutter in aimless 
 fashion : "It was like the old days in Kock Island and 
 Southern when we squeezed 'em both ways " 
 
 "Mr. Strong will see you now." 
 
 Uncle Samuel arose, followed the speaker and a few 
 moments later stood in a doorway, leaning on his cane 
 and blinking a little in the light. 
 
 "How d'ye do, Mr. Strong?" In the shadow he 
 dimly divined the countenance of a man near the win- 
 dow. "I've come to settle." Again he wiped his glasses, 
 adjusted them. "If I ain't mistaken, you're master of 
 the situation." As he spoke he rubbed his withered 
 hands. "Master of the situation!" he repeated, and 
 seemed to sink into a half -reverie. 
 
 "Well, sir?" 
 
 A short, implacable voice caused him io straighten 
 suddenly. 
 
 <f What's your price?" said Uncle Samuel, in accents 
 he endeavored to make equally hard and incisive.
 
 304 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 Time was when the shrewd old miser driving a bar- 
 gain presented a formidable figure, but now his tones, 
 despite the ancient habit of cut-and-dried bartering, be- 
 trayed a wavering weakness and anxiety. 
 
 "I cal'late you kin dictate/' he went on. "'Tain't 
 much, this time, though! Since you cleaned me out 
 before, my credit ain't been the best." 
 
 "What do you expect?" 
 
 The old man rubbed his chin reflectively. The con- 
 spiracy of the church recurred to him forcibly; the 
 part he had played against Richard Strong. 
 
 "I don't expect nuthin'," he answered. "Xo; 'tain't 
 mercy I've come for" with a rough gesture "only to 
 settle !" 
 
 A question; Uncle Samuel shifted his cane; his face 
 became more twisted, seamed and furrowed. 
 
 "Why did I buy? It was on account of a note I 
 gave the little church at home. It had come due and 
 they wrote me. It seemed like a chance for me to make 
 the money to pay the note before but 'tain't no use giv- 
 ing reasons. The little church can't realize on that " 
 
 His voice drew to a close; he leaned his chin on his 
 cane. Perhaps in imagination he heard the comments of 
 the country folk of his old home: "Uncle Samuel gave 
 to the Lord and then took it back agairu He let his note 
 be dishonored."
 
 THE MASTER OF THE SITUATION 305 
 
 The old man clasped his hands. "I've been a nig- 
 gardly, grudgin' old critter/' he went on. "But it's 
 been in my mind, ever since since you cleaned me out, 
 to make enough to take up that note. When I was rich I 
 kept puttin' it off. It seemed an easy thing to put off 
 the Lord. But when I was down, it ha'nted me. I 
 couldn't read the Good Book for it. On every page I 
 saw : ^You've cheated the Lord ; you've cheated the Lord !' 
 So I sot out to get it back peddlin' in a few sheers. 
 But luck has been ag'in me. I kinder feel now as if 
 I'd never settle it." 
 
 To this rambling discourse, Mr. Strong returned no 
 response. 
 
 It may be he was recalling a day in the distant past 
 when he had first visited the Street; that early impres- 
 sion of the Exchange and the men who had controlled 
 the reins of affairs ; when head and shoulders above them 
 all was the little man whose thumb resembled the wiz- 
 ard's wand. "Samuel says : 'Thumbs up' !" and the 
 market had swayed at his words. But men come and go. 
 Now the erstwhile shrewd old gentleman sat bowed 
 down; his eyes, lack-luster; age pressing heavily upon 
 his bent shoulders. 
 
 The man at the window leaned over Ms desk ; hastily 
 wrote a few lines. 
 
 "Take this to Mr. Taplin." 
 
 The words dissipated the visitor's abstraction. Ke
 
 306 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 called to a sense of Ms surroundings., mechanically he 
 grasped the paper. The old instinct to haggle feebly 
 reasserted itself. He remembered he had been this 
 man's relentless, although unsuccessful, adversary. 
 
 "You ain't charging me any more than the others?" 
 he asked cautiously. "It's for you to dictate, but " 
 
 Adjusting his iron-rimmed spectacles, he held the 
 paper close to his face and gave a start of surprise. 
 
 "I cal'late you've made a mistake," he said. "This 
 says to settle at " 
 
 "There's no mistake." 
 
 The paper trembled in Uncle Samuel's hand. 
 
 "No mistake ! I could pay the church ! You don't 
 mean it! you can't mean it! " 
 
 Eichard Strong arose. The other's changed expres- 
 sion was lost upon him; he regarded Uncle Samuel ab- 
 sently, a trace of impatience in his manner. Uncle 
 Samuel also got up ; turned slowly away ; at the thresh- 
 old, however, he stopped and looked back. His eyes 
 were moist; his face, engrossed o'er and o'er with lines 
 of venality and avarice, appeared suddenly illumined. 
 
 "Kichard Strong, you're the only man I always hated. 
 You crushed me once and now you've crushed me again 
 but not the same way !" 
 
 The old man's voice choked; hastily he felt for the 
 door; opened it; Mr. Strong was alone. 
 
 Leaning back in his chair, he looked onf. A procea-
 
 THE MASTER OF THE SITUATION 307, 
 
 sion of melancholy figures streamed through the rain 
 on the other side of the street. For the moment he re- 
 garded them, forgetful of Uncle Samuel, the gold crowd, 
 or the excitement of yesterday. Another matter was 
 pressing on his mind, and, turning to his desk, he picked 
 up a missive lying there; read it again: 
 
 "Will you please, come to the house? I want to ex- 
 plain. Elinor." 
 
 To explain ! Long he looked at it. What was there 
 to explain? What could be explained? 
 
 "Excuse me, sir; the office is full of people." 
 
 The man at the desk drew himself up with a start. It 
 seemed as if the other had broken in upon the privacy 
 of his inmost thoughts. 
 
 "Well, you know the basis of settlement," he re- 
 turned. 
 
 "Yes, sir but the Reverend Doctor Clement, sir, he 
 seems to feel very bad and if you would see him " 
 
 "Treat him like the others and send a check for the 
 amount of his losses to Mr. Beecher's Tabernacle for 
 the poor." 
 
 Still Tim lingered. "Mr. Dalton has come in," ne 
 continued. "He was asking for you, sir." 
 
 The letter slipped from Richard Strong's fingers. 
 
 "You can show Mr. Dalton in now I" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 Tim departed. A moment later the door opened and 
 Charlie walked in.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 i, THE DAY OF SETTLEMENT 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. Strong." 
 
 The speakers appearance was that of a man who 
 had not slept the night before. His eyes were dull; 
 his face unshaven. In twenty-four hours his features 
 had become pinched and his color a grayish hue. 
 But he bore himself with an effort at steadiness, 
 if not with the assurance he had been wont to 
 assume. 
 
 Mr. Strong did not answer; nor did he look at the 
 other. 
 
 Come to the house I want to explain Elinor's words 
 reiterated themselves in his thoughts. 
 
 Dalton drew nearer. "As you know, Mr. Strong," he 
 began in a mechanical voice, "I acted with the gold 
 crowd yesterday; bought some gold for them; also 
 some for myself more than I should. The gold pur- 
 chased for them under instructions I have nothing to 
 do with. That bought for myself, makes it unfortu- 
 nately incumbent upon me to come to you in person 
 to settle!"
 
 A DAY OF SETTLEMENT 309 
 
 Still the elder man sat with his back half -turned. He 
 noticed that the letter was dated September twenty- 
 third. It had been written, then, two days before and 
 had lain neglected on his desk that Black Friday. 
 
 Dalton's hands opened and closed nervously. He 
 was conscious of feeling sleepy; tired; of something 
 pressing upon his brain. 
 
 The other turned in his chair. "What were you say- 
 ing?" 
 
 Charlie flushed. "I was explaining," he remarked, 
 with an effort at self-control. 
 
 Mr. Strong glanced at the missive. I want to ex- 
 plain It, too, said that. 
 
 He began deliberately to tear np the note. 
 
 "Explaining what ?" 
 
 "That I find myself the possessor of some gold 
 bought from you, or the pool you represent, at a high 
 figure." 
 
 "How much did you buy? What price did you 
 pay?" 
 
 Charlie mentioned the amount and the cost. 
 
 The other offered no comment. Dalton felt a greater 
 lassitude; most of the night before he had passed on 
 the street or in the lobby of the up-town Exchange 
 the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He seemed reaching the finale 
 of a disagreeable dream.
 
 310 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "The terms of settlement are " And Mr. Strong 
 named them. 
 
 "Impossible!" 
 
 The man at the desk offered no response to the ex- 
 clamation. Dalton, too, now became silent. He watched 
 the rain drip drip on the window-sill and go splash- 
 ing on to the street. A little gust and it came in a 
 wild patter against the pane. In the room the shadows 
 deepened. An over-vivid consciousness weighed upon 
 him, hut he strove to recall his alertness; to fasten his 
 mind yet more keenly upon the matter in hand. 
 
 "Of course the pool have it all their own way," he 
 continued with an effort. "But don't you think the 
 penalty rather large?" 
 
 The other again disregarded the suggestion and Dai- 
 ton felt that his observations were being swept aside like 
 chaff. This he resented and experienced at once irrita- 
 tion and dejection. 
 
 "The attempt to corner gold turned out to your ad- 
 vantage," he said at length. "You've made a great deal 
 of money out of it." 
 
 "A light flashed up and went out in Eichard Strong's 
 eyes. 
 
 "You mean I am beholden to the gold clique to you, 
 perhaps?" 
 
 Dalton checked himself, looked down.
 
 A DAY OF SETTLEMENT 311 
 
 "Not that/' he returned, and traced a figure with his 
 cane on the carpet. "I don't think I implied that." 
 He felt as if he was forcing himself to speak; to con- 
 tinue an intolerable part. A moment he struggled with 
 himself. "Of course I want to do the best I can." He 
 raised his glance. '"You will make it " 
 
 The other repeated the terms he had first specified. 
 
 Charlie bit his lip. "Yes, but" 
 
 Mr. Strong seemed more engrossed in the papers on 
 the desk than in the matter in hand. 
 
 Across Dalton's mind floated the fatal figures. All 
 he possessed would not cover the loss. He would be 
 bankrupt! Not only that, but in Eichard Strong's 
 debt his debt ! 
 
 Charlie made a quick gesture. 
 
 "You have no right " he began. 
 
 The other arose. His gray eyes rested on the white 
 face of the young man ; looked him through and through. 
 
 "You talk about right!" 
 
 Something seemed to rise between them out of a 
 cloud for the moment Eichard Strong felt the moon- 
 light bathing him; the rush of the wind. He strove to 
 put it aside ; to blind his eyes to the picture. 
 
 "You lent yourself to a conspiracy prepared to stop 
 at nothing to interest government officials to get a 
 corner by dishonest means to steal it "
 
 312 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Steal!" Dalton's face changed. He was no longer 
 pale. "The Street doesn't look at those matters in that 
 way." 
 
 Mr. Strong's laugh was not pleasant to hear. "The 
 Street! It does not, perhaps, too closely differentiate 
 between an honest man and a " 
 
 Charlie's control was fast slipping from him. "No 
 man shall call me : 
 
 "A thief! a worse than thief!" The words rang 
 out sharply. 
 
 Dalton's fist clenched; with an oath he sprang upon 
 the other. But the upraised hand was arrested, held 
 in a grip like steel. 
 
 "You fool ! You fool !" said a voice. "Do not tempt 
 me to kill you. Once I intended to waited for you 
 on the road " 
 
 Charlie threw himself back. "The road! What " 
 
 Suddenly he began to understand that night of the 
 Eclipse party Elinor's subsequent illness her refusal 
 to see him 
 
 "He was watching was behind us and saw " 
 
 For a few moments neither spoke. The younger man 
 stood as if stunned. A rap on the door was drowned 
 by the rattle and rumble of a passing omnibus, and a 
 loud chorus of voices on the street: "Fisk repudiates 
 his obligations !" "All about the suicide of "
 
 A DAY OF SETTLEMENT 313 
 
 The rap was repeated but not heard ; the door of the 
 office opened. A lady entered, who upon sight of the 
 two men stopped short, regarding them with momen- 
 tary hesitation and indecision. She started to speak 
 when 
 
 "But I tell you if you think your wife " began 
 Charlie. 
 
 Power of endurance suddenly deserted his listener. 
 An emotion primeval, terrible, transformed his face. In- 
 voluntarily the girl drew back, half-concealed by the 
 screen of a great book-case. 
 
 "Hush !" he breathed hoarsely. "Don't mention her 
 name !" 
 
 The young man made an aggressive movement. 
 
 "You needn't believe me/' he said, "but you can be- 
 lieve in her." 
 
 Whatever else Charlie was, or had been, he was not a 
 coward. Even the menace, hatred, written on the 
 other's face did not deter him. 
 
 "Yes, in her !" he reiterated. "I swear to you. before 
 that night " 
 
 Richard Strong laughed a laugh that cut the listen- 
 ing girl like a knife. 
 
 "Before that night! Of course! Nothing ever does 
 happen before "
 
 314 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "You do not want to know the truth " 
 
 "The truth ! From your lips or hers " 
 
 Something seemed to deaden his senses. He saw him- 
 self as a grotesque figure in a terrible comedy a play 
 of Moliere's which he had seen some years ago and 
 left before it had been finished ! 
 
 "You have acted a lie in the office and out of it. 
 She lied at the altar. She has lied ever since. You 
 are both liars both !" 
 
 He spoke against his will. He felt himself a child 
 unto himself. "Fool ! Triple fool !" Like the man in 
 the play he opened the window of his breast to his 
 enemy. He self-contained the man of reserve ! It 
 seemed the most unnatural part of that unreal farce. 
 
 "Liars ! and worse !" 
 
 A woman's slender figure came between them. 
 
 "Elinor!" 
 
 It was the younger man who spoke. But it was to 
 Richard Strong she turned. 
 
 "Why are you here?" 
 
 Meeting his look, her purpose faded from her mind ; 
 only his words the words she had overheard filled 
 her brain to the exclusion of all else. 
 
 "Liars !" She had come to tell him the truth, yester- 
 day and again to-day ; to confess her share of the blame,
 
 A DAY OF SETTLEMENT 315 
 
 but now in the face of his dark accusing glance, pretext 
 or excuse seemed weak and unavailing. 
 
 "Why are you here ?" 
 
 Her figure straightened involuntarily. A touch of 
 the old antagonism coursed through her veins; chilled 
 her. Eepentance, humility, froze within her. White 
 as marble, she stood with burning eyes. 
 
 "I suppose/' she said, "I came to tell you lies'!" 
 
 In his glance shone a savage, ironical amusement. "I 
 can believe that/' 
 
 Her gaze grew brighter. "Believe what you please," 
 she cried. 
 
 Quickly Dalton stepped forward. "Damn it, Elinor, 
 why don't you tell him " 
 
 "Let her alone !" The voice was Eichard Strong's, 
 sharp, commanding. "She's in the mood to tell the 
 truth." 
 
 The young man faced him passionately. 
 
 "Since she won't speak, I will " 
 
 "I believe," interrupted Eichard Strong, "our busi- 
 ness is at an end." 
 
 "But I tell you the fault was mine; she never 
 meant " 
 
 Mr. Strong turned swiftly. 
 
 "Are you willing to take shelter beneath this mag- 
 nanimous pretext?"
 
 316 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 The dark eyes flashed into his; she drew herself up 
 proudly. "Take shelter P she said. "No ! No ! All I 
 wish is to be free to leave you for ever !" 
 
 She spoke quickly, almost wildly. He wanted the 
 truth and yet he would not believe her. Why resist? 
 Bight or wrong, his way was the only way. He was 
 always triumphant always master of himself and 
 others. Yesterday she had thought and' hoped But 
 now her sole desire was to escape from this dominion ; to 
 put herself beyond the reach of his bounty. 
 
 With an exclamation which was not lost upon Eichard 
 Strong, Charlie took his hat. At the threshold he stopped 
 and looked back. He was ruined,, but his glance was 
 not that of one vanquished. 
 
 Through a rift in the clouds without, the sunlight 
 had broken and the yellow shaft shot into the narrow 
 street. From the eaves the rain fell sparkling. Elinor 
 waited until Dalton had had time to leave the build- 
 ing and then began to fasten one of her gloves. 
 
 "If you are ready to go, I will call a carriage." 
 
 Her hand trembled a little with the button. 
 
 "No; I prefer to walk." 
 
 He offered no demur. The sunlight touched her; 
 she moved out into the shadow. He thought she was 
 going, when 
 
 "My father has had a sudden attack/' she said; "has
 
 A DAY OF SETTLEMENT 317 
 
 been very ill. The doctors have ordered him away I 
 am going with him." 
 
 He did not answer. 
 
 "We are going to France." Her voice faltered a lit- 
 tle. "You will never be troubled with me again." 
 
 He held open the door. He was very pale. 
 
 "Good-by," she said, and quickly passed out. 
 
 He started forward, her name on his lips, but clench- 
 ing his hands, arrested the motion j closed the door. 
 Still, however, he stood there. A footstep was it she, 
 returning ? 
 
 Some one knocked and he stepped back as the chief 
 clerk entered. 
 
 "They say they're going to arrest Corbin, sir; the 
 relative of President Grant." 
 
 Mr. Strong stood with head down-bent, half-turned 
 from the other. 
 
 "Corbin? Corbin?" he said at last. 
 
 Tim regarded his master in surprise. 
 
 "You were speaking about him only the other day, 
 sir. It was through him the clique sought to reach 
 the president." 
 
 The other's reply was an indirect one. Had he heard 
 Tim's words ? 
 
 "I believe I'll take a vacation for the day," he said 
 absently. "I'm not feeling as well as I might."
 
 318 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 The chief clerk stared at his employer; his manner 
 was strange, unusual. 
 
 "Very good, sir!" said Mr. Taplin, sympathetically, 
 recovering himself. "Very good! A little fresh air's 
 what you want, sir. I hope you meet the commodore," 
 he added. 
 
 "The commodore P' 
 
 "You're going to take out the team, aren't you, sir? 
 Well, the commodore has said that no man except his 
 brother Jake dares pass him on the road."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 DALTON IS PUZZLED 
 
 As Elinor left the office she almost fancied she 
 heard her name called. So strong was the im- 
 pression, an instant she hesitated, then, smiling 
 scornfully at herself, dismissed the thought. He, care 
 for her now ? He, yield to a moment's weakness ? 
 
 Curious glances followed her as she walked through 
 the outer offices. 
 
 "Wonder if she's been, settling?" murmured one of 
 the clerks. 
 
 "She ? That's his wife," answered a fellow knight of 
 the pen. 
 
 Turning into the narrow street Elinor moved on with'" 
 out thought of where she was going. She was vaguely 
 conscious of a mournful throng of people approaching 
 and passing and felt that in a greater or less degree 
 they were of kin; that she was one of them. Here fail- 
 ure was written on a pinched, white face; there ruin 
 looked out of the haunting depths of dark eyes. How 
 dreary the world was ! How hopeless the future ! The 
 319
 
 320 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 spirit that erstwhile had sustained her was succeeded by 
 a weight and depression she could not throw off. 
 
 Standing at the corner of the street and Broadway 
 a young man waited. Now he strode to and fro; then 
 paused and with mingled anxiety and restlessness sur- 
 veyed the figures drawing near. Why did she not come ? 
 And when she did come what should he say to- her? 
 Reflectively he gazed across the road toward the church. 
 The front door of the sacred edifice was open; a few 
 people were entering ;' a few going out 
 
 He began to consider his position and hers and found 
 himself enmeshed in a confusion of conflicting influ- 
 ences. He was alternately depressed and elated; de- 
 jected and hopeful. 
 
 "I'll go/' he thought, "and think it over." 
 
 Then her words in the office recurred to him : "All I 
 wish is to be free I" 
 
 "I knew it ! I knew it I" he repeated, and lingered. 
 Again he gazed eagerly down the street. A new and 
 greater impatience moved him; then his manner 
 changed; a warm hue mantled his cheek and he ad- 
 vanced quickly. 
 
 "Elinor I" 
 
 With a start she regarded him; but if Dalton had ex- 
 pected any sign of satisfaction from her at the sight of 
 him, any trace of a deeper feeling, he was doomed to
 
 DALTON IS PUZZLED 321 
 
 disappointment. Her face was cold, pale; all the fire 
 had gone out of it. With no word of answer to his ex- 
 clamation she walked on; involuntarily he followed. 
 For a few moments there was silence; the exultant look 
 in his eye while he had watched for her, faded. 
 
 "I was waiting for you/' he began slowly. "For 
 several days I have been trying to see you/' 
 
 She did not reply at once. "Yes" she said finally in a 
 low voice, "they told me you called." 
 
 His eyes searched her quickly. Her tone was monoto- 
 nous, dull. That was but natural, however, under the 
 circumstances, after the events of the morning. Dalton 
 hesitated, strove to think of something to say, and the 
 silence became oppressive. 
 
 "I know how you must blame me," he at last went on. 
 
 She looked straight ahead. "I blame myself." 
 
 For some time Dalton pondered over her words. Per- 
 haps he had wanted her to blame him ; perhaps he had 
 expected that she would do so. Her answer now seemed 
 somehow to exclude him from the pale of her thoughts. 
 
 "You?" he said. "Why " and stopped 1 . 
 
 She offered no further explanation. Although con- 
 scious of his presence, she was more vividly cognizant 
 of the expression of Richard Strong's face when last she 
 had looked at him. Despite herself, that final impres- 
 sion lingered with her; she could not dismiss it. She
 
 322 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 felt it now, and was fain to pass her hand before her 
 eyes. 
 
 "I wanted to tell you how sorry I was/' 
 
 She regarded Dalton calmly. Empty, distant, mean- 
 ingless sounded his voice. 
 
 Charlie bit his lip. "I know it sounds very trite/' he 
 returned. 
 
 She did not controvert the statement and a number of 
 excuses he had in his mind died on his lips. This 
 seemed neither the time nor the place for them. For 
 the moment his self-poise suffered; he knew himself 
 mastered by circumstances, rather than master of them. 
 The consciousness of his fall from fortune hung over 
 him like a pall. And that other chain binding him 
 the secret elation he had hugged to his breast was not 
 without its tinge of bitterness. 
 
 "Where are you going?" he asked, looking at the pave- 
 ment. 
 
 "Going?" she repeated. "I don't know." 
 
 It seemed as if she were speaking of the future, not 
 the immediate present. Charlie slackened his pace, but 
 she continued to move on without noticing and once 
 more he regulated his step to hers. 
 
 The street was now almost vividly bright in the sun- 
 shine. The paving blocks shone from the recent rain; 
 the sidewalks gleamed; the carriages reflected the light,
 
 DAL1W IS PUZZLED 323 
 
 and all the world glowed with external cheer. Above, 
 the sky was of a deep, clarified blue; against the horizon 
 the dark clouds lay like a parted veil that was fast van- 
 ishing. 
 
 Gradually Dalton's eye took on an answering spark. 
 Was there no ray of sunshine anywhere for them ? That 
 day had been a trying one. But the morrow? An opti- 
 mistic feeling that "things would straighten, themselves 
 somehow" moved him. He was young yet; the road lay 
 long before them; her presence was the incentive for 
 secret sanguine imaginings. 
 
 He began to talk of other matters. Money that was 
 easily won. Had he not once acquired it quickly? He 
 could do so again; life was a game for wealth, power; he 
 would win for himself a place. But there was more, be- 
 sidesone thing especially. 
 
 Again he strove to catch her glance, led away by his 
 own feverishness. 
 
 "Don't you think so?" he asked. 
 
 She did not reply ; he repeated his question. 
 
 "What ?" she said. 
 
 He stared at her. She had not heard. His words had 
 fallen on ears that were deaf. With knitted brows he 
 walked on. 
 
 In the press of belated people, they came together and 
 were separated. At the curb of an intersecting street
 
 324: BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 he touched ner arm, drawing her back from a carriage. 
 As he did so, a man looked down on them from the ve- 
 hicle, and, with a quick exclamation, she started hack. 
 But an instant, the carriage passed on; Eichard Strong 
 did not look around. She stood there with flushed face, 
 her hands closed. Appearances were all against her; 
 he who had been sure before, now must feel assurance 
 doubly sure. 
 
 Dalton's attitude was the antithesis to her own. A. 
 few muttered words from him, as he gazed after the van- 
 ishing form, sharply recalled her from her stupor. Sud- 
 den anger assailed her. 
 
 "Hush !" she said. "You shall not say that." 
 He regarded her not without wonder the kindling 
 gaze; the firmly pressed lips. 
 
 "Yon defend him, Elinor? Have you forgotten " 
 'TU not hear a word against him !" she cried. 
 "Why, he called you he thought you " 
 "What has that to do with it?" she answered pas- 
 sionately. 
 
 For the second time that day she had greatly surprised 
 him. First, in the office; now, here. A moment he 
 stared at her. 
 
 "Do you know what I think?" he said. "I believe" 
 "Believe what you please!" she exclaimed wildly. 
 "Only leave me."
 
 DALTO]S T IS PUZZLED 323 
 
 "You mean that ?" 
 
 Hi's features grew more haggard; his eyes, bright 
 with fatigue, looked searchingly into her own. 
 
 She stopped. The clatter of the pavement like an 
 echo of thunder seemed to beat on his senses; the air 
 was filled with a discord of noises intrusively clamorous. 
 
 "Elinor, I can't leave you/' 
 
 With an impatient movement she turned away; it 
 seemed but to fan the fever in his blood. He thrust 
 forth his arm; some one brushed against it. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Strong !" 
 
 Another voice, at once subdued and serious, broke in 
 upon them, and the Eeverend Doctor Clement, hat in 
 hand, approached. 
 
 "How do you do ?" Apparently he did not note any- 
 thing unusual in their appearance. 
 
 "I'm so glad to see you so glad !" he continued, But 
 his accents were a shade less sanguine than usual. "I 
 have just come from the Street." 
 
 Charlie laughed savagely and the reverend gentleman 
 colored. It was all very well to shear the sheep, but 
 the shepherd that was another matter. 
 
 "It's a sad day !" he said ruefully, shaking his head. 
 The Eeverend Doctor Clement, however, was never long 
 in a melancholy mood; his buoyant nature now en-
 
 326 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 deavored to reassert itself. Mrs. Strong was a hand- 
 some, agreeable woman, and 
 
 "May I walk on with yon?" he added. "You were 
 going np-town, were you not, Mrs. Strong?" 
 
 She bowed assent. 
 
 "You are coming, too, Mr. Dalton ?" asked the rector. 
 
 Elinor made an unconscious gesture. "Mr. Dalton 
 was just leaving me," she said hastily. 
 
 The young man's face changed. Annoyance, disap- 
 pointment, some deeper emotions, were at war within 
 him. But he drew himself up with a start. 
 
 "Yes; just leaving!" he returned mechanically, and 
 raised his hat. "I have to be off."
 
 CHAPTEE X1T 
 
 THE SHADOW REPUDIATES HIS ALLEGIANCE 
 
 On an evening about a week later, Dalton and 
 Tom Marks found themselves seated at a table 
 in the Pacific Gardens. At that hour, a great 
 throng of varied aspect crowded the place to the doors : 
 young women in abbreviated skirts, armed with foaming 
 glasses; poets, artists and writers, ultra-Bohemiaa of 
 both sexes; broad-faced Teutons, scattered here and 
 there, drinking in the melodies of Strauss and the brew 
 of Gambrinus with equal satisfaction. But Charlie was 
 oblivious of the entertaining character of his surround- 
 ings. The ping ! ping ! of the rifles in the shooting-gal- 
 lery; the clinking of the balls in the billiard-room, and 
 the occasional rumbling of the bowling-alley alike failed 
 to arouse him. 
 
 At an adjoining table sat a person as observant of the 
 passing spectacle as Dalton was indifferent tc it. His 
 little eyes sparkled; he bestowed a good-natured glance 
 upon his companion, a fair lady from the Platonian re- 
 public of artists that made Bleeker Street their haunt 
 and their home. 
 
 327
 
 328 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "See that young fellow over there?" he said, jerking 
 his chubby thumb with ill-concealed satisfaction to- 
 ward Charlie. "He's one of those that's played out. 
 Made his first money in my office and then " Here the 
 Jolly Boy related in substance from his point of view 
 the history of his connection with Dalton. "'Threw me 
 over !" he concluded in a lively tone. "But I told him 
 every dog would have his day !" 
 
 "I suppose the Rossi ters got away all right?" 
 
 Tom, after a discouraged lapse into muteness, again 
 essayed to awaken in Charlie a sense of the clarifying 
 properties of conversation and good fellowship. 
 
 Dalton did not look up. "I suppose so," he answered. 
 
 "They should be well out on the briny by this time," 
 continued Mr. Marks. "Were you at the wharf ? No ? 
 Strange ! Mr. Strong wasn't down either. I saw him 
 on the Street at the time the boat was advertised to 
 leave. Business, I suppose I" 
 
 Charlie stroked "his glass with nervous, white fingers. 
 
 "How long does Mrs. Strong expect to be absent ?" 
 
 "I don't know/' 
 
 Dalton's gaze wandered to the Jolly Boy. That 
 gentleman nodded over-cheerfully ; his countenance dis- 
 played unmistakably that he was glad to see the young 
 man under the circumstances, but Charlie neither per- 
 ceived nor was aware of the beaming complacency.
 
 EEPUDIATES HIS ALLEGIANCE 329 
 
 "It will be dull without her!" said Tom, musingly, 
 As he spoke, he was wondering if he should see as much 
 of 'the fascinating, though disconcerting, Miss Posie 
 Stanton as formerly. "What do the doctors say about 
 Mr. Bossiter?" 
 
 "I didn't hear/' 
 
 "Very unselfish of Elinor Mrs. Strong to go 
 along, to take care of him, isn't it?" 
 
 "Talk about something else, Tom 1" 
 
 The words seemed to burst from Dalton in spite of 
 himself. 
 
 Upon the platform a young woman began to sing, her 
 body inclined forward by high heels as she moved across 
 the stage, parodying the Grecian wiggle, the Grecian 
 hop, or the other fantastic movements inseparably as- 
 sociated with the fashionable Bend. For a moment Mr. 
 Marks listened, but neither the song, nor the hop and 
 wiggle long absorbed his attention. His concern was 
 for his friend whose uncertain temper, perhaps, was not 
 altogether to be wondered at under the circumstances. 
 Charlie was "down" and the other was "sticking by 
 him"; a task both thankless and 1 difficult. For several 
 days Dalton's manner had puzzled the other; sometimes 
 he had even wondered if there was anything except 
 financial matters to worry him. 
 
 "Don't think of it, Charlie/' he now said earnestly.
 
 330 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 "You'll pull up. I don't exactly know how much money 
 you owe, or quite what has happened, but I'm sure 
 they can't keep you down. Look at your friends and 
 connections there's Mr. Strong, for example " 
 
 Dalton laughed oddly. 
 
 "The Rossiters are relatives and Elinor " 
 
 "Minor!" 
 
 Charlie's face had changed like a flash; its expression 
 arrested Mr. Marks' attention ; held it. A moment they 
 stared at each other. 
 
 "Charlie !" said Tom. A light seemed suddenly to 
 burst upon him. "You and Elinor " 
 
 Dalton flicked the ash from his cigar. 
 
 "Hold on !" he said savagely. For some time silence 
 continued between the two young men; Dalton's glance 
 was aggressive, as if the Shadow, not he, were at fault, 
 and Tom stirred uneasily. Conflicting thoughts moved 
 him. He saw Charlie as he had seen him in the days of 
 their early friendship; the brilliant, handsome, though 
 somewhat careless, Charlie of old college days. He saw 
 him now and the present seemed unreal and wrong. 
 The idea crossed' his mind that Charlie had been in 
 Richard Strong's office; that he owed much to Mr. 
 Strong, yet 
 
 Mr. Marks strove to check this train of reasoning; he
 
 EEPUDIATES HIS ALLEGIANCE 331 
 
 looked down half-guiltily as if ashamed of his own 
 thoughts. 
 
 "Suppose we go," he said finally. 
 
 "You. can/' 
 
 Tom arose. "I guess I will/' he said with simulated 
 ease. "I do feel a bit sleepy/' 
 
 Something in Tom's eyes held Dalton; he scrutinized 
 him with curling lip. Mr. Marks shifted his weight to 
 his other foot. 
 
 "Good night," he said, feeling his face grow a little 
 redder. 
 
 "Good night," answered Charlie, shortly. 
 
 Slowly Mr. Marks turned away and as he vanished 
 Charlie again reached for the matches, selected one, 
 struck it. It burned his fingers and he dropped it. 
 Like a basilisk the Jolly Boy watched him. 
 
 If Charlie was thinking of Tom it was only in an in- 
 cidental way; that gentleman was not a consequential 
 figure; the change that had come over him seemed im- 
 portant chiefly in indicating his own altered fortunes. 
 Perhaps for a moment Mr. Marks had had the power 
 to awaken his resentment by an implied, if not spoken 
 criticism, but only for a moment. Another vista/ 
 wider, illimitable passed before him. 
 
 Involuntarily he thrust his hand into his pocket;
 
 332 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 drew forth an envelope, and, after a moment's hesita- 
 tion, opened it and began to read. 
 
 "Never never write me again as you did to-day " 
 
 What had he written ? He hardly remembered ; he re- 
 called now only a passionate haste, and smiled scornfully 
 at the inefficacy of his own words. 
 
 "You must understand I can never see you again. 
 You will know what I meant when I said I blamed my- 
 self. I have been foolish, wicked, and so I write but 
 nothing can change that I can not see you. Elinor." 
 
 Dalton folded his arms ; his heart beat fast against the 
 closed hand that held her letter. Vividly the details 
 and events of that night, but a few weeks old, came back 
 to him; the sudden madness that had swept over him 
 until he knew not what he said; only that he held her 
 in his arms a sweet, wild moment, broken by her tears, 
 an uncontrollable fit of weeping. Then afterward, the 
 feverish, unending days ! 
 
 How long did he sit there? Already had the sober, 
 music-loving Teutonic element departed. An influx 
 from' the theaters replaced the staid, domestic element. 
 The descendants of the children of Israel that had been 
 feasting their eyes at the ballet or surfeiting their ears 
 at the opera, thronged thirstily into the great bar-room 
 and the smaller apartments, discoursing of the nimble- 
 ness of the star at Niblo's or the vocal agility of the
 
 KEPUDIATES HIS ALLEGIANCE 333 
 
 Signorita Capella. Overdressed ladies glided amid the 
 masculine devotees of art and diversion. Financial 
 trouble and the panic seemed forgotten. Disaster, pov- 
 erty what place had they in the palace of amusement ? 
 The air was filled with smoke, perfume and laughter. 
 The flaring lights revealed no spectacle of misery and 
 want. 
 
 Suddenly Dalton shifted his position, a bitter distaste 
 stirring his breast. To end all ! The thought came to 
 him; he dismissed it with repugnance and yet slowly 
 he put out his hand for his hat. 
 
 "May I sit down?" 
 
 A soft voice at his elbow caused him to look up ; two 
 black eyes met his; eyes that went fittingly with the 
 dashing hat, the voluminous dress, the red roses. He 
 did not rise; indeed, hardly seemed to see her; with 
 admirable patience she waited. 
 
 "You \" he said finally. 
 
 The lady smiled; a smile that seemed to give the lie 
 to skepticism. "You are not very polite. But there 
 is the provocation. The Black Friday! I have read 
 about it!" 
 
 Her presence became more insistent, annoying. 
 
 "There is one consolation," he said curtly. 
 
 She leaned a little toward him. With a start he
 
 334 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 breathed a perfume he remembered delicate yet pene- 
 trating. 
 
 "And what is that?" 
 
 A softer light in the lady's eyes bore with the angry 
 gleam in his. 
 
 "It has rid me of you." 
 
 "On the contrary, mon ami!" The black eyes sparkled. 
 "You are ruined, n'est ce pas?" 
 
 He volunteered no denial. 
 
 "That is it," she went on, and nodded her head in 
 gratified appreciation of a dramatic effect. "I am the 
 wife. My place, it is here." 
 
 He stared at her as not understanding. She raised 
 the roses to her face. 
 
 "May I sit down?" 
 
 Her voice was insinuating, caressing. He did not 
 answer; an old gulf seemed opening; he did not care.
 
 BOOK III
 
 BOOK III 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AN INTERRUPTED SONG 
 
 "Are you sure we have been wise in coming to 
 Paris, papa?" 
 
 "Why not, my dear? Peace has been ratified. The 
 German troops have left the city. Do you see any 
 indications of grim-visaged war or the terrible siege? 
 No; no! Paris is quite herself again." 
 
 And leaning complacently back in the carriage, the 
 speaker gazed, not without* pleasure, upon the fete- 
 like scene up and down the animated boulevards. 
 
 "You see," he went on, "everybody is out and 
 everybody is happy. That is why I wanted to come 
 to Paris to feel young again!" 
 
 Her glance lighted with ready sympathy, and, fol- 
 lowing his, lingered curiously upon the stream of people 
 in bright-colored dresses and fresh spring bonnets. 
 
 On the sidewalk many in the promenading throng 
 found likewise a source for speculation in the occupants 
 337
 
 338 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 of the public conveyance, and turned to gaze after 
 them. 
 
 The gentleman had snow-white hair, a pale, refined 
 face, an aristocratic bearing. The girl was young, 
 beautiful and, obviously, his daughter. But whereas 
 his face was weak, sensitive, almost childish in its irre- 
 sponsibility, hers was serious, earnest, yet proudly 
 self-reliant. That they had just entered the city was 
 apparent from the trunks before them. 
 
 Turning into a quiet thoroughfare, the carriage drove 
 up before a four-story dwelling, one of the older struct- 
 ures of the street, antedating the mansion-building pe- 
 riod of the late emperor. The old' gentleman regarded 
 the house almost eagerly, when from the unpretentious 
 entrance emerged a thick-set, phlegmatic-looking woman. 
 
 "You are looking for rooms, Monsieur?" she said, 
 standing with arms akimbo and turning her eyes from 
 one to the other. 
 
 "Yes; does Madame Fracard live here?" 
 
 An expression of surprise crossed the woman's face. 
 "She has been dead these ten years !" 
 
 "Dear ! Dear !" exclaimed the old gentleman. "And 
 Monsieur Fracard?" 
 
 "Alas !" stolidly "he followed madame." 
 
 The gentleman's face fell. "Both gone !" he said. "I 
 am disappointed; I might have expected it, yet" re-
 
 AN INTERRUPTED SONG 339 
 
 garding the girl "it makes me feel like Eip Van 
 Winkle." 
 
 "I was afraid you would be disappointed/' she said 
 gently. 
 
 "Monsieur knew Madame Fracard?" asked the wo- 
 man. 
 
 "For a good many years I lived in Paris here. In 
 this house ! That was long ago ! Long ago I" 
 
 Some of the animation faded from his face; he sank 
 into momentary reverie. 
 
 "If you wish to see rooms " 
 
 He brightened at once. "Good ! By all means ! 
 only" with a whimsical look "they must not be so 
 high up as they used to be." 
 
 Half an hour thereafter Mr. Rossiter and his daughter 
 were seated in a little private sitting-room into which 
 streamed the warm sunshine, revealing the well-worn 
 carpet and heavy, though faded, hangings. Mr. Rossiter 
 peered about with unabated interest, examining the 
 bric-a-brac and then gazing down the street, while 
 Elinor quietly began to open some letters that they had 
 brought with them from the bank, where they had 
 stopped on their way. 
 
 "Here is a letter from Posie Stanton I haven't read 
 yet." 
 
 Mr. Rossiter, with an air of comfort, drew a cigar
 
 340 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 from his pocket. "Bead your mother's letter again, my 
 dear; I only half-heard it." 
 
 "She thinks she will stay a little longer at the 
 baths the Reverend Doctor Clement is there it is not 
 at all dull she doesn't think she will come to Paris, 
 but will join us later in London when the season is 
 fairly begun there. But look at it yourself," handing 
 him the missive "and I will glance over the others." 
 
 Deliberately he began to peruse the epistle, a mes- 
 sage long in paper, if short in matter, for a page of 
 stationery could contain but a few words of the large 
 impressive handwriting of the good lady. He had 
 reached the last page of the letter, when an excla- 
 mation caused him to glance up. 
 
 "What is it, my dear?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "Not bad news from home ?" 
 
 "Not at all," she answered with constraint. 
 
 "You didn't hear from any one else?" he said, 
 gazing at her half-wistfully and then at the letters. 
 She professed not to understand. 
 
 "Yes," she answered gaily, at the same time rising 
 quickly; "I have really quite a voluminous correspon- 
 dence. But how would you like to go out? You can 
 show me the sights, you know. That is, if it won't tire 
 you."
 
 AN INTERRUPTED SONG 341 
 
 "Tire me?" He got up with alacrity. "Not a bit! 
 The winter at the baths has made quite a new man of 
 me." 
 
 She gazed at him searchingly his white face had a 
 spot of color on each cheek; his eyes an almost un- 
 natural gleam then gravely took up his hat and handed 
 him his gloves and cane. 
 
 "You are very good to me, my dear/' he observed. 
 "I don't know what I should do without you." 
 
 The shining brown hair just brushed the white hair, 
 "We always have understood each other very well, 
 haven't we ?" 
 
 "What !" he laughed. "Understand a woman ? Even 
 though she is your own daughter !" 
 
 Her hand fell from his shoulder and, turning, she 
 drew on her gloves. 
 
 "I am all ready if you are, papa." 
 
 Their footsteps resounded loudly as they descended. 
 The house had a solitary, gloomy aspect. Save for a 
 porter and the woman, they had seen no one. The lat- 
 ter now stood at the door. 
 
 "You will return for supper, Monsieur?" 
 
 "Yes, Madame. You can prepare something light, 
 with one of those fine salads Madame Fracard used to 
 make an entree, perhaps, and something from the 
 patisserie. You can serve the meal in our sitting-room 
 at half -past six."
 
 342 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "Have you many guests now ?" asked Elinor, as they 
 were leaving. 
 
 "There are no others, Madame/' answered the 
 woman, soberly. "Strangers have not yet begun to re- 
 turn to Paris." 
 
 "Well, well/' said Mr. Rossiter, soothingly, "the city 
 will soon fill up." 
 
 But on the sidewalk he sighed. 
 
 "How unlike Madame Fracard !" Then he paused 
 with amused expression before a flaming proclamation 
 posted on one of the walls: "Death and bombs! Dag- 
 gers for the traitors of the Government!" 
 
 "What does it mean, papa?" 
 
 "Words ! Just words !" he said lightly. "A call of 
 the patriots to arms ; to overthrow the government. 
 These gentlemen, having finished a war with the enemy, 
 now think they would like an opportunity to kill one 
 another. But come, my dear, what do you say to a 
 drive in the park ?" 
 
 She offered no demur and soon they were driving 
 toward the Arc de Triomphe. When they returned, the 
 day was drawing to a close. Through the mist, all 
 golden lay the city ; in the distance trees and shrubbery 
 were suspended in magical light. A brooding peace lay 
 over sward and pavement. With knitted brows the 
 girl looked out; violence, bloodshed, what had they in
 
 AN INTERRUPTED SONG 343 
 
 common with the fairy-like city ? Soothingly the breeze, 
 redolent with flowers, fanned her cheek. How beautiful 
 was nature, and yet life how complex ! 
 
 Slowly sank the sun; upon the retina of her eyes yet 
 remained an outline of the last segment of the glow- 
 ing circle; then that too, vanished, and the incoming 
 shadows fell mysteriously. 
 
 "Here we are ! And I've brought back a capital appe- 
 tite with me." 
 
 She looked up with a start. "Are we home so soon ?" 
 
 The candles threw a bright glow upon the snowy 
 cover of the table that was spread in their sitting-room 
 when they reentered that apartment. 
 
 "There! This is what I call nice and cozy!" said 
 Mr. Bossiter. "A dainty repast, a bottle of light claret, 
 and last, but not least! you, my dear, to grace the 
 board. How do you like Paris, Elinor?" he added. 
 
 "It is very beautiful, but" she paused. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Nothing. I suppose I was thinking of that procla- 
 mation. I won't any more. Don't you think we might 
 as well use all the candles?" she added, with a change 
 of tone. 
 
 He smiled indulgently. "What extravagance ! But 
 go ahead."
 
 344 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 'There!" she said a few moments later. 'It makes 
 quite an illumination, doesn't it?" 
 
 And the meal passed merrily enough. Mr. Bossiter was 
 profuse in his praise of the dishes; the salad was mixed 
 just right; the wine suited his taste. He became vi- 
 vacious, anecdotal, and tales of the empire, stories of 
 the court, pictures of the people he had seen and 
 known in those early days followed in quick succession. 
 Elinor noted, however, that despite his assertion when 
 they had returned and his compliments on the cook- 
 ing, he ate even more sparingly than usuaL The flush 
 on his face had deepened, although he had taken but 
 little of the wine, and, leaning her head on her elbow, 
 the girl watched him, occasionally nodding assent. Si- 
 lently the woman moved in or out of the room; then 
 placing the dishes on a tray, she vanished with a curt 
 good night. 
 
 Mr. Eossiter waved his cigar back and forth as he 
 talked, the past seeming to crowd upon him the gay, 
 heedless past! His manner perplexed her; in the si- 
 lent house, perhaps by contrast, it affected her, as she 
 thought of the long, dark corridors, the guests who 
 had gone, the empty rooms. 
 
 He had been talking about the opera the old opera 
 and now he arose and approached the piano to ex- 
 emplify his theme. "Ah, they had real melodies in those
 
 AN INTEEEUPTED SONG 345 
 
 days the good old days/' said he, as he half-turned 
 toward her. "Then a prima-donna was likened to a 
 nightingale! A concert was a charming occasion, not 
 a bombardment." 
 
 She pressed her hands together tightly. 
 
 "Don't you think it is getting late, papa?" 
 
 He shook his head, his fingers continuing to run over 
 the keys, when boom ! boom ! two loud detonations 
 afar were followed by a distant volley of deep rumbling 
 sounds. The melody died on the singer's lips. 
 
 "Why, what was that?" he said. 
 
 Elinor went to the window, drew back the curtain 
 and looked out. 
 
 "Do you see anything?" he asked querulously. 
 
 "Nothing!" 
 
 He went to the bell-rope and pulled it. No one 
 answered. Again he strove to summon the woman or 
 the porter. 
 
 "You stay here, papa," said the girl, after an inter- 
 val. "I'll go down and find her." 
 
 Mr. Eossiter looked at the piano; he was vexed; put 
 out. His song had been interrupted; and no singer, 
 great or small, likes to be stopped in the middle of a 
 cadenza. 
 
 In the dark entrance of the house Elinor discovered 
 the woman and the porter, looking down the street.
 
 346 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 "What has happened?" she asked quietly. 
 
 But even as she spoke a number of boys ran shouting 
 down the thoroughfare: "Vive la Commune! Vive la 
 Commune I" 
 
 The woman's glance turned. "The Commune have 
 pledged themselves to overthrow the government and " 
 folding her arms "they have begun." 
 
 A moment Elinor looked down thoughtfully, then 
 retraced her steps to the sitting-room, where Mr. Ros- 
 siter was pacing up and down. 
 
 "Well, my dear, well?" he asked with a certain im- 
 patience. 
 
 She did not wish needlessly to alarm him, so made 
 light of what she had learned, but added: "Perhaps, 
 though, it may become unpleasant here and we had 
 better leave to-morrow." 
 
 "To-morrow?" His face expressed emphatic dissent. 
 "Leave Paris ! We have just come ! Besides, there 
 won't be any serious trouble " 
 
 She did not answer at once. To persuade her father 
 to go without unduly exciting him might require di- 
 plomacy. 
 
 "But if I'm afraid, papa?" 
 
 "Tut ! tut ! You don't know the Parisians, my dear. 
 They are like children fond of proclamations and "
 
 AN INTERRUPTED SONG 347 
 
 "Won't you go for my sake?" she pleaded. 
 Lightly he stroked her hair. 
 "Of course if you really wish " 
 She put her arms about his neck. 
 "Very well, my dear I" 
 
 "Good I" she exclaimed almost gaily. "And now" 
 her arms loosening "go on with your song/'
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 AN ENFORCED SOJOURN 
 
 But they did not leave the next day. When Elinor 
 rapped at her father's door early in the morning, 
 a feeble voice answered, and, entering, she found 
 him feverish, light-headed. At once she summoned a 
 doctor who examined the old gentleman, looked grave, 
 and wrote a prescription. As for going away, said the 
 medical man, that was impossible for the present what 
 the patient needed was absolute rest and quiet. When 
 should they be able to take their departure? It would be 
 impossible to say; in a week; perhaps sooner. 
 
 Watching by her father's side, the day passed slowly, 
 but toward night Mr. Bossiter sank into slumber; 
 his respiration became more even; his temperature, 
 better. 
 
 "He is doing nicely," said the doctor, who called 
 again. "Only I do not conceal from you that his con- 
 dition is serious." 
 
 Late that night the girl sat up; occasionally she 
 bent over her father, but at length lay down on the 
 348
 
 AN ENFORCED SOJOURN 349 
 
 sofa. A troubled sleep. Now and then she awoke of her 
 own accord ; again she was startled by some noise with- 
 out; sounds like the quick, measured tramping of 
 soldiers' feet ! Once she thought she heard the cracking 
 of musketry afar and started up. She held her breath ; 
 bad she been mistaken? Dreaming? The ominous 
 stillness of the moment was broken only by the sound 
 of breathing from the bed, and noiselessly she stole to 
 the couch. No, he had not been disturbed. A moment 
 she stood there; then returned to the sofa. 
 
 "Elinor!" 
 
 Her father's voice aroused her. It seemed but a few 
 minutes later; yet day had dawned, sunless, overcast. 
 At once she hastened to his bedside where she found 
 him sitting up; his eyes, clearer; his manner, impatient. 
 
 "Are the trunks packed?" 
 
 "What for?" she asked gently. 
 
 "I thought we were going to leave Paris/' 
 
 "And I thought you wanted to stay !" 
 
 "I don't want to stay," he announced. 
 
 "We seem to have changed places," she said with a 
 smile. "Before, it was you " 
 
 "You are staying on my account, my dear," he in- 
 terrupted. "I am well enough to go." 
 
 "I am afraid the doctor would never consent to
 
 350 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 that." She endeavored to answer him lightly. "He 
 made me promise to keep you quiet for a few days." 
 
 "A few days," cried Mr. Eossiter. "It may then be 
 too late." 
 
 Placing her hands on his shoulders, she quietly 
 forced him back upon the pillows. 
 
 "Is that the way you obey orders?" she asked re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 "Well, well!" he said with a show of resignation. 
 f( I suppose you are right." And added irrelevantly: 
 : "God bless you, my dear !" 
 
 She seated herself on the edge of the bed and stroked 
 his hand softly. He closed his eyes. She thought he 
 svas sleeping, but his lips again moved and he muttered 
 something she did not catch. 
 
 "What is it, papa?" 
 
 He looked at her with sudden inquiry. "Nothing, 
 my dear, nothing! Only an old proverb came to me." 
 
 "An old proverb?" she asked in surprise. 
 
 "Yes. 'A good daughter makes a good wife' !" 
 
 'Across the pallor of her cheek swept a quick flush, 
 while the hand that touched his ceased its motion. 
 Heretofore he had never questioned his daughter ofl 
 the subject of Eichard Strong, having left that family 
 task to Mrs. Eossiter. Perhaps Elinor's manner in 
 response to that lady's hints, inquiries and innuendoes.
 
 AN ENFORCED SOJOURN 351 
 
 had deterred him at the outset from supplementing her 
 futile efforts with his own. That the girl had been 
 disposed to keep her own counsel had seemed sufficient 
 reason to the sensitive Mr. Rossiter to refrain from 
 seeking the causes of the one fact that was patent her 
 separation from Richard Strong. He might invite her 
 confidence, but he would never seek to force.it. In the 
 face of his wife's displeasure at her failure in the at- 
 tempted role of peacemaker, Mr. Rossiter's mute, but 
 sympathetic, demeanor had drawn father and daugh- 
 ter but the closer together. 
 
 Now, however, lying there helpless, anxiety for her 
 welfare impelled him to speak. 
 
 "A good daughter! a good wife!" he repeated. "You 
 are all that any man could ask. All and more ! He is 
 respected ; esteemed. He loved you dearly. It was not 
 difficult to see that. Nor could you have been indiffer- 
 ent to him. Yet you never hear from him ; you do not 
 write to him/' 
 
 Hastily she drew back, but his fingers closed detain- 
 ingly on her hand. 
 
 "Suppose anything should happen to me, Elinor 
 You would be left alone your future problematical!" 
 
 Her face was turned away; she did not reply. 
 
 "I presume, my dear," he went on, "all people have 
 their little troubles when they are first married. Even.
 
 352 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 your mother and I had our little differences which' 
 seemed large enough at the time, but after a while we 
 got along very well together ; very well, indeed ! In 
 your own case, perhaps, you formed certain ideals and 
 you found that these preconceived notions " 
 
 "Papa!" 
 
 The accents of her voice held him; the appeal in her 
 eyes. His grasp loosened; he lay back and looked at 
 the ceiling. 
 
 Swiftly she knelt at the bed; something arose in 
 her throat. "Please do not think me cold, or unfeeling. 
 I'm not; really I'm not. I feel my position keenly; the 
 falseness, the humiliation of it!" 
 
 "My dear !" He was looking at her now. 
 
 "When mama has questioned and urged me, I have 
 not been so hard, so unnatural, as I have seemed. I 
 know she is very angry with me; that she blames me 
 greatly. And I know that you have been very patient 
 with me; that you do not mind that I have been a 
 disappointment to you a burden " 
 
 "Elinor!" 
 
 She laid her cheek against his. "I do not mean to 
 keep things from you, but it can never be mended 
 never ! He would not I know you want to help me, 
 but you can't, dear, you can't ! And really, I'm not 
 Unhappy at all. And" coaxingly "I'm going to
 
 AN ENFOECED SOJOUEN 353 
 
 nurse you and you are going to get well soon, and we'll 
 go to London and have a good time together." 
 
 When had he ever been able to resist her? Not in 
 the past, and now, at her words, his purpose weakened. 
 It was easier to accept her explanation than to seek 
 further to overcome her reserve; and Mr. Eossiter, as 
 usual, reconciled himself to the easier course. 
 
 "Very well, my dear!" he said. "I won't keep you 
 here long, depend upon it! I'll soon be on my feet 
 again." 
 
 And truly, despite the disquieting events that ensued 
 in Paris, his condition took a more favorable turn 
 and before a week had passed the fever had left him. 
 Convalescent, he was, nevertheless, feeble, debilitated. 
 He had proved a docile invalid, amenable to treatment; 
 comparatively calm and complacent in circumstances 
 calculated to disturb the most phlegmatic nature. Was 
 he but acting a part? Elinor often asked herself the 
 question. 
 
 The city daily grew more disordered, more chaotic, 
 but her impatience to escape from their environment 
 found at length its relief, when at the end of seven long, 
 almost interminable days, the doctor announced the 
 welcome news that her father might leave Paris and 
 proceed to London by slow and easy stages. 
 
 "Your father should be able to stand the journey/' he 
 said. "It is not very trying."
 
 354 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "Oh, I'm sure he'll be able to !" she answered eagerly, 
 "He seems so much improved only weak. We can leave 
 perhaps this afternoon." 
 
 "There is one little formality to be observed first/' 
 he continued. "It will be necessary to procure a pass- 
 port. The new police prefect has caused all the gates 
 to be closed." 
 
 "In that case," she returned, "I'll go at once to get it." 
 
 When Elinor returned to her father's room she wore 
 her bonnet and jacket. 
 
 "Au revoir, papa !" she said gaily, bowing to him 
 from the doorway. 
 
 With a gleam of pleasure he surveyed her from the 
 chair in which he was sitting, clad in his dressing-gown. 
 "Au revoir I" he answered, almost brightly. "You don't 
 mean " 
 
 "Yes; we are off at last!" adjusting her veil at the 
 
 "But where are you going ?" 
 
 "To get the passports !" she replied. "Is there any- 
 thing you would like me to bring you back ?" 
 
 "Only yourself, my dear !" 
 
 She kissed her fingers to him from the threshold. 
 "Never fear ! Like the bad penny, I always return." 
 
 At the little office at the foot of the stairway she 
 paused to inquire the direction to the department of
 
 AN ENFORCED SOJOURN 355 
 
 the prefect of police. Expressing no curiosity, madame 
 briefly told her the way and almost buoyantly the girl 
 departed on her errand. The lonesomeness and worry 
 of the past week seemed like a disagreeable dream. To 
 leave Paris! Her feet fairly danced along. Even the 
 changed and mournful appearance of the streets did 
 not depress her the closed houses; the barred doors; 
 the cafes mockingly gay by contrast ! As she moved on, 
 she observed many vehicles laden with household goods 
 and trunks wending their way to the station, and she 
 breathed deeply in anticipation of the perfumed air she 
 soon would find beyond the grim walls of the menacing 
 city.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE GAMIN AND THE EOSE 
 
 "Refused the passport!" Mr. Rossiter's face ex- 
 pressed his indignation. 
 
 Elinor slowly drew off her gloves. "The man 
 said it was customary to investigate all applica- 
 tions." 
 
 "It is an outrage." 
 
 "One more day won't matter," she answered, looking 
 down. "And and I'll call again to-morrow." 
 
 She did not tell him of the reception accorded her at 
 the prefecture; how she had been obliged to stand in a 
 room filled with tobacco smoke in the presence of 
 several officers and a rough-looking man in civilian at- 
 tire; how the former had stared at her and the latter 
 had insolently questioned her without removing the 
 pipe from his lips, until the blood had flushed her 
 cheeks and her dark eyes had lighted with angry fire. 
 They were bright now, but her face was pale as she 
 bent herself to the task of appearing indifferent, as- 
 sured. 
 
 356
 
 THE GAMIN AND THE ROSE 357 
 
 Mr. Roesiter, however, was not easily calmed and 
 Elinor with difficulty persuaded him to forego his in- 
 tention of visiting personally the authorities. Propping 
 him up in the chair, she set herself to the task of di- 
 verting him from the consideration of the vexations or 
 perils of their surroundings. A new hook by Disraeli 
 Lothair she brought forth from the top of her trunk 
 and opened with a show of interest. 
 
 "Every one is reading it, papa, and now is our oppor- 
 tunity/' she said and began to read aloud. 
 
 "A very ordinary book, my dear !" he remarked when 
 she had finished the second chapter. "To my mind, 
 quite inferior to his other works !" 
 
 She laid it down. "Well, then, we'll talk/' she said 
 with assumed cheerfulness. "You can tell me about 
 Paris your Paris " 
 
 "My Paris," remarked Mr. Rossi ter, "did net detain 
 you forcibly within its walls. Hy Paris was smiling,, 
 beautiful not coarse, brutal!" 
 
 She did not controvert him, only gazed mechanically 
 without. 
 
 That night a desultory bombardment of the city be- 
 gan; a brief demonstration, and stillness again reigned. 
 
 But for Elinor sleep seemed out of the question. To- 
 ward midnight her father dozed and noiselessly she stole 
 out of his chamber into the sitting-room. A chill air
 
 358 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 had descended on the city, and with a shiver, she drew 
 her wrapper closer, then stooping before the hearth 
 touched' a match to the pine cones in the grate. Tiny 
 flames sprang up, played upon the coal, and a loud 
 crackling filled the room. She closed the door so that the 
 noise might not awaken her father and then, sinking in- 
 to a chair, sat with widely opened eyes before the fire. 
 Her mind was unusually active, reviewing the events of 
 their trip and sojourn abroad; her father's illness and 
 the attendant cares; the months of self-repression. As 
 her thoughts swept further back, her foot moved ner- 
 vously to and fro. She recalled' herself as she had been 
 toward Eichard Strong- imperious, capricious, incon- 
 sistent. She did not feel at all capricious at present. She 
 wondered what he was doing; if he ever thought of her. 
 Of course not, unless her hands clasped together and 
 long she looked at the fire until into her eyes came a 
 mist which threatened to blind her. 
 
 The next day she could not even reach the office of the 
 prefecture, as the thoroughfares in that neighborhood 
 had been turned into camps and the guards refused to 
 allow her to pass. But one course was open for her, and, 
 returning to the house, she addressed a letter to the 
 authorities. 
 
 The mills of the new government, however, like those 
 of the gods, ground slowly, and day after day passed
 
 THE GAMIN AND THE KOSE 359 
 
 without reply, until in the order of events an unforeseen 
 embarrassment arose. Stimulated by the possibility of 
 a second siege, prices had soared higher and higher and 
 Elinor, after meeting the doctor's bill, the apothecary's 
 account and madame's demands, found she had fairly 
 exhausted the funds they had brought with them. This 
 at first gave her no apprehension, for she had written 
 to Mr. Kossiter's London banker for more money, but 
 one day the edict went forth that no letters or telegrams 
 should be delivered in Paris. 
 
 Before her faither she put the brightest face on the 
 matter. 
 
 "Well, here we are fairly marooned, papa ! We might 
 as well be on a desert island/' 
 
 But to the woman she said later, not without anxiety J 
 "If no letters are delivered, haw can I pay you ?" 
 
 The other's heavy face expressed a trace of emotion. 
 
 "Perhaps you would trust us?" 
 
 "It costs money to trust," was the deliberate reply, 
 "I haven't any." 
 
 "You mean that you you would turn us out ?" 
 
 "There is the Mont-de-Piete !" coldly. 
 
 The pawn-shop ! ' Fortunately a branch of that use- 
 ful establishment, conducted by the government, lay 
 within a district Elinor could reach without being 
 stopped by the guards, and perforce acting upon the
 
 360 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 woman's suggestion, the girl at once set out as cheerfully 
 as she might upon her novel errand. 
 
 Arriving at her destination, she was again obliged to 
 exercise her patience, for the place was crowded; on 
 every side pale, wan faces speaking of misery and want. 
 Among these people she waited she knew not how long, 
 but finally a sharp-eyed, not unkindly-looking man be- 
 hind a desk motioned to her and she approached, open- 
 ing a small bag she carried and displaying sundry little 
 relics and' heirlooms. 
 
 "You must leave these to be appraised by the com- 
 mittee," said the man. "Then we will advance four- 
 fifths of their value." 
 
 "I should prefer the money at once whatever you 
 please only I must have it now !" she returned quickly. 
 
 He studied the pale, refined face, behind the dark 
 veil. 
 
 "Well, I will take the responsibility of a small ad- 
 vance/' he answered after a moment. 
 
 A brooch that had belonged to some foremother of 
 Maiden Lane, or Maid's Path, in old New York, brought 
 Elinor only the small sum of thirty francs. A locket 
 containing a portrait of a lady attired in a gown of 
 baize suggesting the inevitable petticoat of linsey-wool- 
 sey beneath fared little better, but an antique bracelet,
 
 THE GAMIN AND THE EOSE 361 
 
 set with rubies, was awarded a sum so large by the 
 critical examiner, that Elinor forthwith returned the 
 rest of her wares to the little bag. 
 
 "You can redeem these articles/' said the man, cour- 
 teously, "any time within fourteen months. After that, 
 they will be sold." 
 
 Thanking him, she thrust the notes gladly into her 
 dress, and, folding up the receipt which he handed her, 
 escaped as quickly as might be from that scene of penury 
 and distress. But the effect of it lingered, one figure 
 that of a poor old man especially haunting her. Now 
 she experienced a sudden compunction that she had for- 
 gotten him in her new-found affluence, and hesitating, 
 she was half -minded to return, when a carriage, driving 
 by near the curb, attracted her attention and arrested her 
 purpose. In the vehicle, which was drawn by a superb 
 pair of horses, reclined a woman who smiled upon the 
 throng. 
 
 "La Tielle Zoldene!" cried a street urchin, running to- 
 ward the equipage. 
 
 The woman in the carriage laughed and threw a 
 flower to the boy. 
 
 "Zoldene ! Zoldene !" repeated a number of people. 
 
 Quickly Elinor looked up as quickly drew back. Be-> 
 side the dancer was seated a man, and, as the equipage 
 dashed on, the girl had the startling impression of a
 
 362 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 familiar face a face linked with the past different 
 yet 
 
 "A rose ! A rose ! Who'll buy a rose?" 
 
 The urchin was at her elbow; his face grotesque, imp- 
 ish; his grimy hand holding out the rose. Hastily she 
 turned; hurried on. Fragments of Posie's last letter, 
 received on the day of their arrival in Paris, recurred to 
 her : "What do you think, my dear ? Charlie Dalton is 
 married and has been for some time. To whom ? To an 
 actress ; a variety actress ; Zoldene ! It came out in one 
 of the papers together with the details. I see your 
 start of surprise. Yet it is really and truly true/' 
 
 But to have met them both thus in Paris ! A strange 
 phantasmagoria of figures mingled and dissolved in the 
 girl's imagination: The woman throwing flowers to 
 people who were hungry ; the pinched-f aced urchin, with 
 the rose in his tattered coat; Dalton another face far 
 away dominating all ! And amid these unwonted im- 
 pressions but one desire was paramount: to leave Paris 
 at once ; to escape from that anomalous environment ! 
 
 The permission to leave ! If only the prefecture of 
 police would hasten and send 
 
 "Madame, the passports have come," said the woman, 
 as Elinor entered the Fracard house. "They came while 
 you were away." 
 
 Almost joyfully the girl took them : "Then we will go
 
 THE GAMIN AND THE KOSE 363 
 
 at once to-day. Get the tickets for us and call a car- 
 riage." 
 
 The woman regarded the money Elinor thrust into 
 her hand. 
 
 "Your father is not so well," she remarked bluntly. 
 "You were gone so long he insisted upon dressing to go 
 out to look for you. At the door he fell down and we 
 had to carry him back to his room." 
 
 With a cry the girl turned and ran swiftly up the 
 stairs.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL SEARCH 
 
 One early morning about a fortnight later a 
 man tried for the second time that day to get 
 into the city of Paris. After having been 
 stopped on the train and turned back because his 
 ignorance of the language of the country had made 
 it impossible for him to understand the questions 
 of the passenger inspector, he had proceeded on 
 foot along the road, or across the meadow land 
 skirting the wall of the capital. At times he ad- 
 vanced to the edge of the moat and paused, looking 
 across to where, beyond the long grass and bright flowers 
 crowning rampart and bastion, arose the neighboring 
 housetops, mockingly near. 
 
 But such open reconnaissance was not without its 
 danger; a puff of smoke issued from the parapet, and 
 quietly the man moved back; at a more respectful 
 distance continued on his way, but ever with his eyes 
 bent on the cold, gray outlines of the stone barrier. 
 Now he was trampling a neglected garden patch, when 
 364
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL SEAECH 365 
 
 suddenly he stopped; an opening through the solid 
 masonry rewarded his gaze. 
 
 Save for a single sentinel, the immediate vicinity 
 was deserted, but as the man drew near, the half-nod- 
 ding soldier of the people straightened and in a 
 drowsy voice commanded him to halt. The other 
 obeyed; looked around him again, noting the solitary 
 aspect of the place at that early hour. 
 
 "Your pass !" 
 
 An obstinate light came into the man's eyes; if he 
 did not advance, neither did he retreat, and the guard 
 raised his weapon menacingly. Another moment and 
 the stranger would have answered for his contempt 
 of military authority, when quickly he lifted his hand 
 to his breast, drawing forth a bit of paper. Grumbling, 
 the sentinel allowed him to approach. But even as 
 the former stared first with surprise and then with 
 suspicion at the paper, striving to decipher it, the si- 
 lence was broken by a loud hollow reverberation the 
 report of a gun from the heights of the city. 
 
 At the sound the guard involuntarily glanced over 
 his shoulder, a lapse of alertness that was but mo- 
 mentary, yet sufficient for the stranger. Quick as a 
 flash he sprang upon the sentinel; his arm straight- 
 ened, and the guard fell limply to the earth, his gun 
 clattering beside him. The man stooped, grasped the
 
 3G6 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 bit of paper and ran through the gate. Turning into 
 a narrow highway, he soon lost himself in a net-work 
 of thoroughfares. 
 
 For some time he continued walking at a sharp 
 pace, apparently with no more definite purpose than 
 to escape pursuit, hut at length his gait began to re- 
 lax and finally he stopped short altogether. Seating 
 himself on the edge of a mutilated monument the 
 crowning figure of which was Glory with its wings 
 blown off he opened a clenched hand and smoothed 
 out the crumpled bit of paper: 
 
 "Am ill. Elinor helpless and in great danger. Can 
 you come? Edwin Rossiter." 
 
 "In great danger"! He had not hesitated; he had 
 not thought of hesitating upon receiving it. 
 
 And now if Mr. Eossiter only had not failed to 
 send an address ! Rising, Richard Strong moved on, 
 up the height where once the temple of Mars is said 
 to have stood. Xear the summit he paused. 
 
 Below lay a comprehensive view of Paris, and keenlj 
 he searched that maze, noting where the tangle o: 
 streets huddled between the straight lines of the 
 broader thoroughfares, and how, amid the maze, like a 
 silver ribbon, shone the placid river. In fancy lit 
 traced his way toward it, and then, descending by a
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL SEAECH 367, 
 
 different and more precipitous route, resolutely set 
 his face toward the actual accomplishment. 
 
 As he proceeded, the city began to show signs of 
 awakening life; an animation as feverish as unnatural. 
 People seemed to spring mysteriously from the very 
 pavements, and of one accord to wend their way to a 
 neighboring church, as if there existed among them a 
 strange unanimity of purpose surely no devotional 
 sentiment drawing them to the sacred edifice. For 
 a moment* Eichard Strong watched them, then, moved 
 by a special object of his own, became part and parcel 
 of that variegated and chaotic inflow. 
 
 The interior was filled with tobacco smoke and in 
 the font was tobacco from which the elect were at 
 liberty to help themselves. .Glasses and wine bottles 
 covered the altar and in the pulpit a woman was 
 speaking, her topic, the "rights" of the sex; the right 
 not to marry ; the right to live with any man ; the right 
 to leave him at pleasure; the right to do anything! 
 
 Without comprehending, Eichard Strong listened. 
 He had 1 thought that perhaps in that throng might be 
 discerned an English or an American face, but the 
 visages he encountered were nondescript, inhuman. All 
 save one 
 
 "What would Monsieur like to drink?"
 
 368 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 A grisette had drawn near, smiling. 
 
 "They are going to burn up the city to-night, 
 Monsieur, so we might as well be merry." 
 
 He gazed from them to her; then walked slowly to 
 the door. Was this Paris? A few words beat per- 
 sistently upon him. "Elinor in danger " And 
 thinking of the time that had elapsed since the send- 
 ing of the message and his arrival in the city, keener 
 misgivings assailed him. 
 
 That afternoon he went to all the hotels centrally 
 located. Many were closed; a few remained open, 
 accommodating, however, but a scanty number of 
 guests, stranded in Paris. 
 
 He drove where he could, urging the drivers to make 
 haste; when he walked, it was with a quick, nervous 
 step. Often the sentinels stopped him, and in spite of 
 his tenacity, he was obliged to turn back. The coming 
 of night found him still unsuccessfully pursuing his 
 search and with but one more name on the list of ho- 
 tels he had managed to procure. 
 
 At this place, near the Seine, a man with a pair of 
 boots in his hands seemed to be the most important per- 
 sonage. 
 
 "We have only one guest," he explained in broken 
 English; "and" with a mournful gesture "he went 
 out and hasn't come back. These are his boots."
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL SEAECH 369 
 
 "The gentleman and lady I am looking for were in 
 Paris about a fortnight ago. I have been to all the 
 principal hotels." 
 
 "Perhaps they went to one of the small hotels for 
 French people/* 
 
 Richard Strong caught at the suggestion. He knew 
 that Mr. Rossiter had lived in Paris before and dur- 
 ing the empire, and that he understood thoroughly the 
 language of the country. 
 
 "Where are these places?" he asked. 
 
 "Everywhere." 
 
 "Take me to them." 
 
 A curt refusal was the response. "Paris! at night 
 away from the main streets to go hunting about 
 everywhere ! I prefer it here indoors." 
 
 Richard Strong laid his hand on the man's arm. 
 "Look here," he said almost roughly. "You've got to 
 take me. Name your own price two hundred francs 
 five hundred but you must go." 
 
 The man dropped a shoe; looked down thoughtfully. 
 
 "Whether I am successful, or nof ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It is dangerous but for five hundred francs 
 I'll go!" he said with sudden decision. "That is, 
 alone it will be safer. You can stay here and I 
 will return as soon as I can."
 
 370 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "I tell you we've got to go together." 
 
 The man's face took on a sullen expression, and ap- 
 parently Kichard Strong saw that no further concession 
 might be expected. 
 
 "Go alone then/' he said shortly. "If you find 
 them, I will double the amount." 
 
 Quickly the man put oca his cap and handed the 
 other a key. "Should you go out, lock the door." 
 
 Mr. Strong returned no answer; alone he began to 
 survey his surroundings. A pair of candles, burn- 
 ing unevenly, faintly illumined the little office in 
 which he stood, revealing its meager furnishings: a 
 single chair; a shelf for candles; a key rack, and a 
 small table upon which was the porter's scanty re- 
 past a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine. For some 
 time Eiehard Strong sat in the semi-darkness, waiting, 
 thinking, but so many pictures crowded upon him 
 that to ward them off he arose, pacing to and fro. 
 An occasional report broke the stillness of the night; 
 a strange smell was in the air, the odor of burning 
 petroleum.. 
 
 How long did this endure? Suddenly he became 
 aware that the door leading to the street had opened 
 softly and at first he thought it was the wind; then 
 discerned an arm thrust through the opening; an 
 arm that threw something within ! Richard Strong
 
 AN UNSUCCESSFUL SEAECH 371 
 
 stepped forward and, as he did so, the intruder lighted a 
 match, the glare of which revealed a wild, haggard face. 
 It she too saw him; a shriek pierced the air and 
 the light fell to the floor. At the same time a chorus 
 of voices arose without: 
 
 "Les petroleuses!" 
 
 Several shots were followed by a muffled cry, and 
 Richard Strong, now standing in the doorway, gazed 
 upon a motionless, hud'dled-up figure lying on the pave- 
 ment; at the smoking weapons of the guard, already 
 disappearing. Near the fleshless, outstretched hand lay 
 a bottle, and regarding this receptacle in connection 
 with the scene just witnessed, he had no difficulty divin- 
 ing the inspiring incendiary purpose. Left where it had 
 fallen, the figure of the "petroleum woman," clad in 
 rags, was exposed to the wheels of every passing vehicle 
 and he drew the body to the sidewalk; then turning 
 from this task, as repellent as it had seemed imperative, 
 he stood hesitating beside it. 
 
 He felt the need of action movement. The thought 
 of remaining longer in the little office was intolerable, 
 and telling himself he would not go far, he walked down 
 the street. The same question reiterated in his mind: 
 If the porter failed, what then? The bright lights of a 
 naming entrance attracted his attention, and a great 
 lithograph pasted on the wall caught his eye. The build-
 
 372 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 ing was a theater ; the announcement, a burlesque then 
 being performed there. 
 
 How Jolly Life Is! was the title of the piece, and, in 
 exemplification of the name, a woman with figure pre- 
 posterous, Parisian, was exhibited dancing, a tricolor in 
 one hand and over her shoulder a bayonet with a bunch 
 of roses on its tip. 
 
 "Zoldene as the Communist Zouave !" read the an- 
 nouncement. 
 
 He drew his breath quickly. So she was here, too? 
 And Elinor? Dalton? The blood suddenly rushed to 
 Richard Strong's head. A moment he stood; then 
 wheeled about and entered the temple of pleasure.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A STRANGE ENCOUNTER 
 
 A seat on the aisle, not far from the back, was 
 turned down for him, and as he sank into it a 
 woman, primly attired, knelt at his feet; ad- 
 justed a footstool; then alert, expectant, straightened 
 herself. But the customary response was not forth- 
 coming. She raised her brows. 
 
 "The program, Monsieur !" 
 
 He took it and deliberately she held out her hand. 
 When she drew it back the ironical look had vanished; 
 her lips were voluble with thanks. At that moment, how- 
 ever, Richard Strong had no heed for her, or any single 
 person. He was conscious only of an effect; the merg- 
 ing of the phantoms of the day gross, ragged, gibber- 
 ing in the holy light of stained glass windows into a 
 more glittering, yet not less seemingly fallacious, 
 throng. But soon that general impression a percep- 
 tion of over-vivid hues and Paphian, painted puppets 
 was succeeded by the more specific, special cognizance 
 of a single figure. 
 
 373
 
 374: BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 She stood before the footlights singing. Her scanty 
 costume frankly revealed the trim outlines of her figure ; 
 a hat, a la RepvbUque, crowned her glossy curls, and 
 upon her shoulder, emphasizing its powdered whiteness, 
 a black velvet bow waved like a mammoth moth. In 
 the white light of the calcium she glittered and gleamed, 
 and while her voice was not that of a Malibran or a 
 Pasta, her audacity and vivacity were well calculated to 
 beguile an audience into evidences of approval. 
 
 She took a high note execrably, but at the conclusion 
 of the tone, gave her head such a prima-donna-like toss 
 and regarded her listeners with such a ravishing smile, 
 even the critical auditor forgot the singer in con- 
 templation of the siren. 
 
 "Bravo, Zoldene!" 
 
 .Whereupon she showed her white teeth and a dimple 
 and fluttered to the footlights. Again the faulty tones; 
 once more the persuasive battery of smiles; the varying 
 postures designed to display to advantage the white 
 shoulders and rounded arms. 
 
 "Why are you so sober, Monsieur ?" 
 
 A girl, wearing a Legion of Honor sash, bent forward, 
 significantly regarding the vacant place next to Richard 
 Strong. 
 
 "Aren't you going to ask me to sit down ?" 
 
 He made no motion to remove his hat from the seat.
 
 A STRANGE ENCOUNTER 375 
 
 "Poof !" she said, drawing back with a gesture of dis- 
 appointment. "You are not very polite/' 
 
 As through a mist or was it the smoke that waved 
 and wavered around them? the figure on the stage 
 approached and receded. Still the shrill treble over- 
 rode the clatter and din of the soldiers of fortune, blase 
 dandies and their lorettes. A sprightly infectious 
 rhythm, it was, however, in turn interrupted, dominated 
 by a more stentorian voice : 
 
 "Paris is burning!" 
 
 As a passing cloud transforms the surface aspect of 
 the sunlit water, so a nameless fear changed and dark- 
 ened the appearance of that sea of smiling faces. Upon 
 the stage the words of the song died on Zoldene's lips; 
 those in the background began to move about in dis- 
 order. 
 
 "Go on ! Go on I" 
 
 The leader of the musicians stamped his feet; vio- 
 lently waved his baton. In quavering tones Zoldene be- 
 gan once more ; gaining confidence as she proceeded, her 
 manner again became jaunty, reckless. 
 
 "Paris is burning!" 
 
 The conductor by this time, however, had the per- 
 formers well in control, beating time with his fists, 
 with furious sweeps of his long arms. 
 
 "Presto ! More life ! more fire !"
 
 376 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "The Tuileries is in flames ! the Louvre ! the Rue 
 Eoyale " 
 
 Above a carnival of hues fluttering dolls with sashes 
 of all colors, and bows of enormous proportions fastened 
 upon, or perched on their dresses Richard Strong sud- 
 denly discerned an unresponsive figure which arrested 
 his attention to the exclusion of all else. 
 
 He was seated in a box a young man ; his face mark- 
 ed with premature lines; his eyes, cold; his expression, 
 bored. "With a half-contemptuous, half-ironical look 
 his gaze slowly swept the multitude ; then stopped. The 
 languor faded from his expression and with a start he 
 leaned forward, staring at Richard' Strong. 
 
 "The theater is on fire ! the theater ! " 
 
 A puff of smoke had curled outward from behind and 
 arose like a thin veil. It was followed by a denser cloud 
 and on the instant the romping dolls were stricken 
 motionless like automatons that had run down. Merri- 
 ment gave way to terror; laughter, to shrieks. Involun- 
 tarily Richard Strong had stepped toward Dalton, when, 
 caught in the outward rush of the swaying throng, he 
 was carried on as by a torrent. Powerless to resist, 
 held in that mighty whirl, his strength was as nothing to 
 the aggregate force brought to bear upon him. In the 
 narrow doorway the jam became greater; a moment 
 he realized the weight about him was crushing him
 
 A STRANGE ENCOUNTER 377 
 
 into unconsciousness; then suddenly he was shot forth 
 against a wall. 
 
 Above, the heavens were red; against the glowing 
 background flashes of light played ominously. Scarcely 
 conscious of what he was doing, he staggered on, ani- 
 mated by a single purpose. The hotel he would re- 
 turn there perhaps the porter had come back perhaps 
 he had learned something! 
 
 As Richard Strong raised his head, the Seine, now 
 a river of molten fire, burst upon his gaze. Gleaming 
 with the radiance from a burning palace, it swept 
 on, lapping the stone confines of its course with phos- 
 phorescent rays. Soon they grew darker, as from the 
 sullen caldron, where once monarchs had played at 
 "divine rights," outpoured an increasing volume of 
 smoke which now blotted from the sky the vivid hues. 
 Only a sickly glow shot at intervals through the fumid 
 mantle, making the shadows appear deeper, the streets 
 more gloomy, and the people, tristful specters that 
 walked in darkness. But that they were not mere 
 melancholy shadows, creatures passionless from the 
 realms of night, was quickly made manifest to the 
 man near the river. 
 
 "Les petroleuses!" 
 
 The dimness of the night became alive with human 
 figures; a final explosion from the palace again lighted
 
 378 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 up the scene and in that brief interval Richard Strong 
 saw the face and figure of a girl, standing on the side- 
 walk, around her a number of people. A moment 
 amazement, incredulity, held him motionless, incapable 
 of action. Still the light played on her features. 
 
 "Kill her!" 
 
 "The Seine! throw her into the Seine!"
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE DAY 
 
 Blinded by the glare, the girl had started back, 
 only to feel her wrist seized in a grip like iron. In 
 vain she endeavored to resist, struggling as best she 
 might, but still the dark forms, now dimly discerned, 
 crowded around her. A feeling that it was the end 
 was succeeded by a vague, dumb wonder. Some one 
 had leaped into the throng and was striking among 
 them ; an instant she was lost in a whirl, and then the 
 grasp upon her wrist was released. 
 
 "Run! Rim I" 
 
 Vainly she strove to obey ; her feet were as lead, when 
 a compelling arm thrust her forward and again she found 
 herself capable of motion. Bewildered, she could not 
 realize what had happened; what it all meant. Some 
 people had attacked her; some one had made it possible 
 for her to escape. Or was it possible? 
 
 "Les petroleuses!" 
 
 Now she began to understand the "petroleum wo- 
 men [" they thought she was one of them. The bottle 
 379
 
 380 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 for medicine that she had been carrying had condemned 
 her. 
 
 Her feet began to lag, when from behind a hand 
 touched her shoulder; she strove to shake it off; the 
 fingers tightened and the world went round. 
 
 "Elinor I" 
 
 Some one caught her; raised her. Through the half- 
 apathy of her thoughts a familiar voice insinuated it- 
 self. 
 
 "Elinor!" 
 
 Her eyes opened; bewilderment, joy crowded her 
 brain. 
 
 "Richard !" 
 
 She felt his arm thrown about her ; herself dragged on. 
 The darkness seemed to press upon her and she found 
 herself imagining it was all but a waking dream. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped. 
 
 "The hotel if I could but find it" 
 
 Unfortunately the buildings were of a pattern, pre- 
 senting a wearisome uniformity of style, and in vain 
 he glanced on either side, striving to single out that 
 refuge that he knew to be so near. Even as he searched, 
 closer came the pattering of feet. 
 
 A moment they regarded each other; swiftly glance 
 met glance. Like a flash of light, her eyes, bright,
 
 THE BEEAKING OF THE DAY 381 
 
 burning, responded to the questioning, devouring eager- 
 ness of his. 
 
 "Leave me," she said. "Why should you, too " 
 
 Hastily he thrust her behind him. Life had 
 grown strangely sweet; the irony of fortune that he 
 had found her too late awoke a fierce revolt in his 
 breast. With lowering brow he stood awaiting their as- 
 sailants when a cry escaped Elinor and he turned. In 
 pressing back she had pushed against a door which had 
 swung open behind her. Quickly entering, he drew her 
 after him; the d'oor closed; his hand sought, found, a 
 bolt which he shot. Almost simultaneously blows re- 
 sounded on the woodwork from without, but the door, 
 like many another, had been strengthened during the 
 siege. 
 
 "Are we safe now?" 
 
 His answer was drowned by a crash that made the 
 door tremble; again, and it gave way. Her hand 
 touched his arm and he caught her to him. 
 
 "Elinor ! love ! " 
 
 At that moment a strange sound arose from the 
 street, at first a weird monotone, then a screech which 
 sent the people fleeing from the entrance. An instant's 
 silence, and the iron messenger from the heights of 
 Montmartre performed its wonted functions. No res- 
 pecter of persons, it struck down alike Communard or
 
 382 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 stranger, man or woman, and thereafter, for some time 
 no living being was seen stirring near that spot. 
 
 When consciousness at length slowly returned to 
 Richard Strong, he continued to lie without motion, 
 staring straight upward. A band of steel seemed press- 
 ing around his head; his thoughts were confused. Into 
 the throbbing of his brain crept a vague recollection 
 a river, now silver, then red. Eed ! white ! the colors 
 danced before him. Then the warm hue lingered and 
 with it came the rest of the picture. 
 
 "Elinor !" he said, and sat up. 
 
 Only the echoes answered. Again he spoke; strove to 
 listen; then began to grope around until he touched 
 something soft a dress ! Bending, he placed an un- 
 steady hand on her breast. At first he was cognizant 
 only of the throbbing in his brain, a steady pulsation 
 like that of the piston of a boat ; then beneath his fingers 
 he felt a faint motion. Drawing her to him, he pillowed 
 her head upon his breast. 
 
 Some time passed. Occasionally the silence without 
 was broken by the rushing of feet, the flourish of 
 trumpets. These sounds an aching sense of touch 
 from the pressure of her body, which was both pain and 
 pleasure a growing perception of sight, mingled in the 
 stupor of his brain. Certain rays of light that had en-
 
 THE BEEAKING OF THE DAY 383 
 
 tered their prison grew brighter and dimly he began to 
 discern the surrounding objects: A wall pierced by a 
 window beyond his reach; to the left a few steps lead- 
 ing upward to a door. 
 
 Kising, he placed his coat beneath her head and cling- 
 ing to the wall, made his way to the steps. Mounting 
 with an effort, he opened a door, entered. A candle 
 with matches, which he found on the table, he 
 managed to light, and by its sputtering rays made out a 
 small apartment; a bottle on a table; a loaf of bread. 
 Over a couch was the cord that opened the front door 
 and near the 1 narrow bed, a man's pair of boots 
 
 Eichard Strong stared at the boots and at the bottle, 
 then regarded an array of candles on a shelf; half- 
 candles, quarter-candles, three-quarter candles. The 
 place was familiar; he had stood in that room before 
 last night ! The door that had opened to admit them 
 when he had left the hotel he had forgotten to lock it. 
 
 Again he descended the steps and lifting the uncon- 
 scious girl in his arms, carried her to the couch, when 
 dizziness overcame him and he fell into a chair. Less 
 distinct became her face; he told himself he would 
 not yield, and, grasping the table, forced himself to rise. 
 As he did so, a door to the left, opening into a garden or 
 inner court, was abruptly thrown back and a figure stood 
 in the entrance.
 
 384 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 "Monsieur, I found the man, but his daughter " 
 The words ceased on his lips and wonderingly he 
 gazed on the other. 
 
 "I have found her myself," said Kichard Strong.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE 
 
 "Will you be good enough to tell me what place this 
 is?" 
 
 The speaker, lying in a high bed, raised himself on 
 his elbow. Apparently the apartment was strange to 
 his eyes, for a puzzled look crossed his face and his 
 glance wandered perplexedly to a person seated in a gilt 
 chair near the window. The burly back of him ad- 
 dressed turned; the man arose, and, approaching the 
 bed, regarded his questioner with a good-natured smile. 
 
 "The Hotel Republique." 
 
 "How long have I been here?" 
 
 "About twenty-four hours/' 
 
 Richard Strong studied the speaker. 
 
 "Pardon me, if I ask" 
 
 "Who I am? A London press correspondent. Went 
 
 through the siege. Know Paris in feast and famine. 
 
 Can tell you that kittens taste like red squirrels that 
 
 Angoras are preferable to stray tabbies, and that rats 
 
 385
 
 386 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 have the flavor of meadow-larks. This was my hotel 
 left it and was unavoidably detained. When I got back, 
 found part of it gone. Also found you here " 
 
 The other stirred uneasily. 
 
 "The lady who was here with me?" 
 
 "Was not injured. The porter said she drove off to 
 her own hotel that same morning, and if she has fol- 
 lowed the example of other Americans she has left the 
 city by this time. But I must be going now; will drop 
 in again later." 
 
 Richard Strong stared at the door through which 
 the speaker vanished and then looked out of the window. 
 Beyond the tiny red flowers of a vine a housetop waved 
 oddly to and fro. He strove to sit up, whereupon the 
 flowers began to dance wildly, like elfish things, and 
 again he fell back. His eyes closed, and housetop and 
 flowers alike faded from his mind. 
 
 He was vaguely conscious of half-waking several 
 times that day, of speaking with a doctor; of relapsing 
 toward nightfall into a deeper sleep. When he again 
 looked around him his vision was clearer; the dizziness 
 had left him, and, reaching from the bed, he pulled a 
 cord hanging to the wall. The passing minutes brought 
 no response; impatiently he waited, then rising slowly, 
 began to dress. On a little table near the bed were 
 rolls, cold fowl, and a small bottle of wine. When he
 
 A MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE 387 
 
 had eaten he was able to make his way along the hall 
 and descend the stairway. 
 
 Deserted was the little office, but in the corridor the 
 porter stood directing several workmen engaged in re- 
 moving the brick and mortar. The shattered front wall 
 had been propped up with heavy upright timbers and 
 the task of repairing the havoc was proceeding apace. 
 
 At the unexpected sight of his guest the man gave 
 an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 "We are house-cleaning, as you see/' he said, recover- 
 ing himself, "preparing for the coming of monsieur, the 
 proprietor, who returns from the country now that it is 
 all over/' 
 
 "What is over?" 
 
 "The Commune. Which reminds me of my errand 
 for Monsieur: The old gentleman and his daughter 
 they are at Madame Fracard's, a little hotel of the first 
 Empire, seldom frequented by foreigners once noted 
 for its cuisine." 
 
 Richard Strong looked down. "The lady you found 
 here with me had she quite recovered when she left?" 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur." 
 
 "Has any one called, or sent word ?" 
 
 The man fumbled in his blouse; drew forth an en- 
 velope. "I am reminded of this message "
 
 388 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 Hastily the other glanced at it. The handwriting 
 was strange, foreign. 
 
 "Bow do I get to the street?" he said absently. 
 
 "If Monsieur does not mind the back way " 
 
 Upon the avenues and boulevards Mr. Strong found 
 or would have observed, had he been in an observ- 
 ant mood evidences of activity and zeal promising a 
 speedy rehabilitation of the city. Those who had 
 been busily engaged in tearing up pavements only a 
 short time before, were now no less zealously occupied 
 in putting them down. But no consideration of the 
 outward aspect of the city or the transformation that 
 had already come to pass, now occupied Richard Strong 
 as he walked on. The letter the porter had given him 
 engrossed his attention. 
 
 "If M. Eichard Strong will call at the hospital, 
 some one he knows who is dying would like to see 
 him." 
 
 Written with pencil in a labored hand on the paper of 
 one of the general hospitals, the message was dated 
 the day before and signed by one of the Sisters. 
 
 The missive wavered in his hand "some one he 
 knew?" but the porter had said 
 
 Calling a passing carriage, he showed the address to 
 the driver and entered the vehicle. 
 
 At the hospital he exhibited the letter to a man in
 
 A MYSTEKIOUS MESSAGE. 389 
 
 charge in the little office at the door. This official 
 looked at the message; rang a bell, and shortly after- 
 ward Richard Strong was following a black-robed Sis- 
 ter down the corridor. They traversed several hall- 
 ways; ascended many stairs, but finally the nurse 
 stopped., and, ushering him into an upper ward, indi- 
 cated a cot. 
 
 At the visitor's entrance the patient, who had been 
 lying with closed eyes, turned his head, and, with a 
 start Richard Strong regarded, then recognized him. 
 And yet could it be this figure, the head so bound 
 about with bandages as to make the features almost 
 indistinguishable ? jSTow the eyes opened ; stared 
 around. Pain, fear, as from the remembrance or ef- 
 fect of some never-to-be-forgotten scene, or catastro- 
 phe, shone in that glance. 
 
 "Mr. Strong," he whispered, and closed his eyes 
 once more. 
 
 Quietly the Sister brought forward a chair, placed 
 it at the bedside and Richard Strong seated himself. 
 
 "You wanted to see me?" 
 
 The lids wavered. 
 
 "Yes," murmured Dalton and paused. "It was good 
 of you to come." In Charlie's blue eyes a certain 
 wistfulness replaced the look of pain. 
 
 "How," asked Richard Strong, "did you find me?"
 
 390 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 "Yesterday >Galignani published list of strangers, 
 The doctors gave me but a day or two." His gaze 
 looked beyond the man at the bedside. "I'll not be 
 sorry when it's over." 
 
 He uttered these words in starts; his respiration 
 short; his breathing loud. For some moments no other 
 sound broke the stillness of the room; then his glance 
 fixed itself again on Mr. Strong. 
 
 "It was my fault} not hers ! She was but a girl ' 
 seeking diversion unhappy. That day you saw us in 
 the street I waited for her to learn she had never 
 cared for me " 
 
 The voice became weaker; ceased; then he lay still. 
 Richard Strong, too, did not stir; dark shadows fell 
 around him; from either side came a sigh, or a moan, 
 the travail of some spirit drawing nearer the inevitable 
 goal. ' Through an open doorway he could see a priest 
 placing a vessel of oil on a little table before a crucifix 
 near a bed and dully he watched him. 
 
 "Corpus Domini " 
 
 Life and its passions; death and its mystery vibrated 
 in the sad, majestic cadence of those tones. 
 
 "A poor woman Zoldene who was injured, too, in 
 the burning theater," whispered the nurse. "She has 
 confessed and is receiving extreme unction." 
 
 As she spoke she crossed the hall to the door; closed 
 it. At the same time Dalton stirred uneasily.
 
 A MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE 391 
 
 "What is that ?" 
 
 Pityingly the Sister laid a soothing hand on his. 
 With his lingers he picked at the coverlet, while his 
 mind, as if groping in that gloom that was falling 
 around him, began to wander : 
 
 "Gold, one thirty-six ! a quarter ! how's the mark- 
 et ? sell ! buy !" 
 
 "Hush !" 
 
 Again the nurse endeavored to quiet him, but he did 
 not heed ; apparently his thoughts were only in the past, 
 caught up in the maelstrom of that late September. 
 
 "Gold ! it's coming down ! you can't hold it ! 
 we're swamped ! it's all been a foolish dream ! 
 money ! love ! " 
 
 He endeavored to rise, but fell back with a moan. 
 
 "I tell you I can never get up, Tom ; never !" 
 
 The door of the room across the hall opened; with 
 tinkling bell the priest came out, moved on, in his hand 
 a silver chalice. Did Charlie see him ; feel the breath of 
 that black gown ? Over his face came a look of sudden 
 relief, 
 
 "The bell !" he said. "The bell ! One two three 
 Thank God, the day is done!"
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 RICHARD STRONG LEAVES PARIS 
 
 Slowly Eichard Strong began to retrace his way, 
 conscious now of weakness, or weariness, or both. The 
 front entrance of the hotel, which he presently reached, 
 he found clear of rubbish, and, at the door, the rotund 
 face of no less a person than the proprietor, beaming 
 with the good humor of a returned exile. 
 
 "Monsieur wishes a room?" he said, as Eichard 
 Strong walked in. "Monsieur already has a room? 
 Then I welcome him, or rather he welcomes me." 
 
 "Has any one been here to see me?" 
 
 "No one." 
 
 Entering a little smoking-room, adjoining the office, 
 Bichard Strong sank into a chair; mechanically began 
 to look over the English and American papers on the 
 table in the center of the room. Through force of habit 
 he glanced at the quotations of the American market, 
 but his mind soon wandered from fractions and figures, 
 and leaning back, he endeavored to formulate his plans. 
 392
 
 EICHAED STEONG LEAVES PAEIS 393 
 
 Should he see her before he went? What inference 
 could be drawn save that she had no wish to meet him 
 again? The Commune was 1 over; she was out of dan- 
 ger; his errand was ended. 
 
 "Ended !" He repeated the word to himself. "Yes, 
 ended !" and touched a bell. 
 
 The proprietor answered it himself. 
 
 "When does the next steamer sail from Havre?" 
 
 The man went to a rack and took therefrom several 
 folders. 
 
 "One boat leaves to-morrow; another next week, 
 Tuesday. Or" consulting a second list "if Monsieur 
 cares to sail from Plymouth " 
 
 "To-morrow? Yes; I might go to-morrow." 
 
 "If Monsieur desires, I will book his passage." 
 
 "No. Give me the address. If I decide to go, I will 
 attend to it myself." 
 
 "As Monsieur pleases !" And with a little shrug the 
 man left. 
 
 Eestlessly the other strode to and fro, knowing he was 
 weak now; that he hung back from that which circum- 
 stances told him he should do. "It may be she has 
 been ill." He began to find reasons, excuses for his 
 failure to receive word or message from her. Surmise 
 bred surmise; expanded into apprehension; the hotel
 
 394 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 had become intolerable, and, taking up his hat, he left 
 the room. 
 
 "How shall I reach Madame Fracard's ?" 
 
 The porter wrote an address on a card. 
 
 "Monsieur turns three streets to the left, two to the 
 right and then straight on." 
 
 The shades of twilight were falling as Richard 
 Strong once more left the hotel, but by the time he had 
 reached the vicinity of Madame Fracard's, night had 
 fairly enveloped the city. From the opposite side he 
 studied the building and was about to cross, when the 
 curtain of one of the lower windows was drawn aside, 
 and plainly he saw her whom he sought; looking out 
 with the shimmer of light in her hair the slenderneea 
 of her figure outlined against the white glow of the lamp. 
 
 From afar he regarded her, discerning very distinctly, 
 until a swift movement of a white hand and the drapery 
 was drawn, shutting him out from sight of her. 
 
 For some moments he continued to gaze at the 
 window. She was not ill ; had not been ill. Yet he had 
 lain there at the hotel two days alone 
 
 Slowly he began to walk away; then stopped. The 
 memory of the light in her eyes that night they had 
 faced death together, seized him. He saw her again, as 
 he had seen her then, and retraced his steps. 
 
 From a neighboring cafe came the sound of voices,
 
 EICHAED STEONG LEAVES PAEIS 395 
 
 and, obeying the desire to linger, he moved toward one 
 of the little iron-legged tables and seated himself. Be- 
 tween her window and him flowed a ceaseless traffic; ait 
 the curb a street-singer twanged a guitar; passing and 
 repassing many venders proffered their wares with brisk 
 interchange of pleasantry. 
 
 A waiter addressed to him some inquiry to which he 
 nodded without hearing, whereupon the man vanished 
 only to reappear with a foaming glass. As Eichard 
 Strong sat there, the figure of a woman leaving the Fra- 
 card house and turning quickly into the street, caused 
 him to half -start from his chair. Now the lights from 
 the window of a pastry-shop shone upon her a person 
 short, heavy, of middle age and again he sank back. 
 
 Darkly the walls of the house across the way con- 
 tinued to answer his gaze; from one or two windows 
 gleamed a faint suggestion of a light somewhere within ; 
 once a spark flashed back and forth and disappeared like 
 a will-o'-the-wisp. Over Eichard Strong gradually crept 
 a strange impression; a feeling of dejection; despon- 
 dency. 
 
 Two chess players at an adjoining table plied their 
 game and abstractedly he watched the moves, noting 
 how the conflict often hung in the balance. 
 
 To cross over, or to return to his hotel? He weighed 
 the propositions.
 
 396 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 Now the white men on the chess-board pressed the 
 black, but in the contest honors were even. "If white 
 wins/' said Bichard Strong to himself, "I'll go to 
 Madame Fracard's." He did not know whether he 
 really meant it, but with new interest, watched the tide 
 of battle. On, on, advanced the white pieces! The 
 loyal subjects rallied to their king. "He is lost," 
 thought the observer, when a sudden flank movement, a 
 ewift pressing forward of knight, bishop and queen, 
 and the white king was mated. 
 
 Eichard Strong arose, and, without stopping for the 
 change from the silver piece he handed the waiter, 
 walked quickly away. Later that night he left Paris.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS 
 
 The months in America that followed were to Mr. 
 Strong, according to his fellow-men and neighbors, both 
 fruitful and propitious. Old ventures expanded; new 
 ones prospered. A self-contained man, he was no less 
 taciturn than formerly ; of a solitary disposition, he con- 
 fined himself to a well-settled routine: His office his 
 club his house these were the places he frequented. 
 
 The last-named specific resort, the home bought just 
 before his marriage, had become an unending topic of 
 conversation to the neighbors. It was so aggressively 
 large; so unreasonably silent; so unreservedly isolated 
 and retiring, even in that square where peace and quiet 
 reigned I Like its master, it seemed to stand uncom- 
 promisingly apart; and gossip, albeit somewhat subdued 
 in that chosen corner of the busy city, was, nevertheless, 
 rife with conjecture and reasons. 
 
 But unconscious of the interest he excited in the 
 breasts of others, Eichard Strong continued to go his 
 397
 
 398 BLACK FEIDAY 
 
 own way. Summer and autumn found him daily at his 
 desk during, and after, Wall Street hours, and winter 
 brought no change in the stress of his exertions. So the 
 seasons passed; Christmas came and went, and the 
 year grew old and waned. The new year, too, promised 
 but a repetition of the labors of the old, for on that day 
 commonly regarded as a period for rest and mutual fe- 
 licitations Tim Taplin, repairing to the office, found his 
 employer already there and at his desk. 
 
 The chief clerk somewhat ruefully greeted Mr. Strong 
 with the compliments of the day. "Excuse me, sir," he 
 then ventured, "but you're not going to work to-day?" 
 
 The other did not answer, and Mr. Taplin, exercising 
 a privilege that came from long service, went on: "If 
 you don't mind my saying it, you don't know how much 
 good it does one to take a day off occasionally." 
 
 "Then why are you here ?" said Mr. Strong. 
 
 "Well, sir" apologetically "to tell you the truth, 
 I rather suspected you might come down and thought if 
 you did you would need some one " 
 
 But his employer had already turned to his desk; 
 indeed, was absorbed in a diagram before him, the draw- 
 ings of one of those simple inventions which, like the 
 air-brake, or the car-coupler, made possible the growth 
 and spread of great railroad systems. Tim noticed, 
 however, that Mr. Strong did not apply himself to the
 
 AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS 399 
 
 study of the device with that interest its merits seemed 
 to warrant, and, that in dictating his letters, he paused 
 several times to correct himself. Finally he pushed 
 back his chair. 
 
 "The Street is too quiet for good work, Tim I We 
 might as well stop/ 7 
 
 After the clerk had taken his departure, Richard 
 Strong also arose. Perhaps truly the silence was op- 
 pressive and he missed the activity with which he was 
 usually surrounded. At any rate, the environment be- 
 came distasteful to him; his imagination refused to re- 
 spond to the appeal of patents, labor-saving devices or 
 even the consideration of sundry prospective corpora- 
 tions. 
 
 Work! work! work! What did! it all profit a man? 
 A few more railroads; a few more mines what did they 
 matter to him ? The whole scheme of strife in that mo- 
 ment of depression seemed only a child's game. Money ! 
 power! men but fettered themselves to golden 
 thrones; then vainly clanked their chains. 
 
 Impatiently he checked this train of fancy, and, walk- 
 ing to the window, looked out. A white fog overhung 
 the city; embraced the little isle with its obscuring 
 mantle. At intervals he could hear the sound of 
 fog-horns afar, and so still was the frosty air almost 
 fancied he could detect the beating and puffing of boats.
 
 400 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "It will be difficult for steamers to enter the harbor 
 to-day/' he thought, as he turned to the grate and 
 stirred the coals. 
 
 In fancy spectral ships continued to pass and repass. 
 He must have fallen into a half-doze when a shuffling of 
 feet in the passage aroused him; the door was pushed 
 open and a thin, small face looked in. 
 
 "Paper, sir? New Year's address. I saw you in the 
 window." 
 
 Mr. Strong surveyed the mite; took the paper and 
 handed him a coin. The lad shuffled out; the footsteps 
 ceased. 
 
 The man at the fire laid aside the colored souvenir; 
 spread the newspaper on his knee, when the steamship 
 arrivals caught his glance. 
 
 "Among the passengers on the Madrid Mrs. Ed- 
 win Kossiter Mrs. Elinor Rossiter Strong " 
 
 He ceased to read. During the seven months interven- 
 ing since he had left Paris, he had heard from her but 
 once; a letter of only a few lines, sad and reserved, an- 
 nouncing the sudden but peaceful death of her father. 
 He recalled its contents now; his own answer; that sub- 
 sequent long period of silence. Only indirectly had he 
 ever learned of her; he had not even known she was 
 coming home. Again he glanced at the newspaper; 
 looked at his watch; then rising, drew on his coat and 
 gloves and left the building.
 
 AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS 401 
 
 Upon the street the air was cold., penetrating; the fog 
 so thick the familiar church-steeple lost itself somewhere 
 behind the milky cloud. Now no sound broke the still- 
 ness except the monotonous crunching of his boots in. 
 the snow, but as he made his way up-town a jingle 
 of sleigh-bells grew ever nearer and louder. All the 
 beaux and dandies were out, "making calls" with joyous 
 and democratic freedom, the countenances of some of 
 them as they swung into view bearing unmistakably the 
 rubicund signs of the hour. Even at his club usually 
 a staid and quiet place Richard Strong found evi- 
 dences of the Epicurean aspect of the day in a great 
 punch bowl, garlanded with flowers, and a generous re- 
 past of tempting variety, spread upon the long tables in 
 place of the erstwhile sober literature. 
 
 But he did not long remain there. 
 
 "Going so soon?" called out some one. 
 
 "Of course!" said another. "Didn't his wife come 
 home yesterday?" 
 
 Once more on the street, however, he hesitated. A 
 long, purposeless day stared him in the face. How 
 should he spend it? His horses? Yes; he might take 
 them. out. But where ? Since that night of the Eclipse 
 dance, the road, his favorite drive, had lost its attrac- 
 tions. He had told himself this was merely an un- 
 reasonable prejudice a road was only a road, to be
 
 402 BLACK FKIDAY 
 
 driven on ! But in spite of all reasoning, he continued 
 to experience a distinct disinclination for the popular 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 He felt it to-day, stronger than ever. What then? 'A 
 sense of impatience stirred him as he turned into the 
 square and approached his home; his well-ordered mind 
 revolted against vacillation and uncertainty. Nor was 
 the appearance of his house calculated to allay that feel- 
 ing. On every hand lights shone from the parlors of 
 other dwellings; one mansion alone was dark, forbid- 
 ding. With shutters closed in many windows, it ap- 
 peared almost tenantless. 
 
 Once Eichard Strong had sat in the little park before 
 it and wondered how it would look when she would be 
 mistress there; when her presence would lend life and 
 light to the great place. The old memory intruded it- 
 self. Then the flowers had bloomed and the birds had 
 sung around him, and the barren stone walls had seemed 
 an Aladdin palace of beauty in the perspective. But 
 flowers and birds had gone, and the solid outlines 
 were shorn of all pretense of architectural preeminence. 
 
 "I'll sell the place," he thought, as he ushered him- 
 self into the hall. 
 
 Eeflectively he looked before him when a peculiar 
 rustling sound' caused him to turn. 
 
 "Who is it?" he said.
 
 AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS 403 
 
 Only the silence answered. 
 
 "I am imaginative to-day/* he thought, when the 
 sound was repeated in the library. 
 
 "Who is there?" he asked again and quickly stepped 
 forward; but stopped. 
 
 Yes ; there was some one ! a girl ! a girl in black ! 
 ~For the moment he could not believe his senses, but 
 stared at her incredulously. She seemed as unreal as a 
 vision, and yet her eyes were bright with life; her breast 
 rose and fell quickly. 
 
 "Elinor!" 
 
 Was it his sudden exclamation? the joy in his voice? 
 She stretched out her hands. 
 
 "Oh," she said, "I had to come. I could not stand 
 it any longer." 
 
 His heart leaped and the world went round, as swiftly 
 he reached out; grasped her hands. 
 
 "You had to come?" 
 
 Was it only his eyes that spoke ? 
 
 "I could not help it," she went on hurriedly and the 
 hands in his trembled. "There seemed only one way 
 to see you. Ever since that night in Paris I have felt I 
 must see you. No matter what you might think ! No 
 matter how you might receive me!" 
 
 His fingers tightened; he drew her nearer. 
 
 "Why did you want to see me ?"
 
 404 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 "Why" 
 
 Her color came and went. 
 
 "Why?" She felt the strength, the power of his 
 grasp. 
 
 "Why because " 
 
 Some force swayed her toward him" She raised her 
 head with an effort, but her eyes met his proudly. 
 
 "Because I love you !" 
 
 His hands released her but for an instant ! then 
 his arms enfolded her, crushed her to his breast and in 
 the mingled pain and pleasure of that embrace his lips 
 met hers. 
 
 "But you left Paris without seeing me again?" 
 
 He had gone to the window to throw back the blinds ; 
 now at her question, he turned. 
 
 "Had you sent word " 
 
 She looked at him in surprise. "But I did! the 
 next day by the woman " 
 
 He went to her. "I never received it" 
 
 "Never received the letter I wrote you 'that my 
 father was very ill, unconscious that I had gone to 
 him but would return " 
 
 Abruptly she broke off; a spark flashed up in her 
 eyes; her hand tightened in his. 
 
 "That woman she deceived me then she feared to
 
 AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS 405 
 
 go out that night I met you I had gone for medicine 
 because she would not go and there was no one else to 
 send." 
 
 "Do not think of it now/' he urged. 
 
 "But my letter ? She told me that she left it f or you 
 that you were recovering later I went myself you 
 were gone. My father" her voice faltered "died on 
 the day you went away." 
 
 Gently he stroked her hair. 
 
 "That morning I left you I was distracted, beside 
 myself fearing for my father they promised to care 
 for you " She paused. "It was so strange, my meeting 
 you/' she continued irrelevantly. "I have often wonder- 
 ed how you happened to be in Paris." 
 
 "Because you were there. Your father sent me a 
 cablegram that he was ill you were in danger " 
 
 She looked at him with shining eyes. 
 
 "You did not know ?" he asked. 
 
 She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. 
 
 "See !" he said. "The sun is coming out. It is break- 
 ing through the mist." 
 
 As she followed his gaze, already the light gleamed 
 on branch and bough; it entered the window; bathed 
 them both. He watched her hair grow golden and its 
 radiance held him as by a spell. For some time neither 
 spoke.
 
 406 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 Without, the sleigh-bells rang merrily, and the sound 
 of laughter and the cracking of whips reached them. 
 "The New Year!" 
 "Our New Year!" she added softly. 
 
 Through the window lay the world, snow-white. 
 The prismatic hues of the reflection were dancing in her 
 eyes. 
 
 "How long/' he said, "have you cared for me ?" 
 
 "Always !" she answered confidently. 
 
 He made an incredulous gesture. 
 
 "Only I didn't always know it." 
 
 "And when did you know?" 
 
 "After I told you I didn't!" 
 
 His eyes questioned her. 
 
 "At that moment I was resentful, capricious per- 
 haps a little hurt, too that you could turn from me 
 on our wedding trip to go back for business. It 
 seemed somehow, as if I only came second with you " 
 
 "Second !" he cried. 
 
 "And then, if you had only treated me differently] 
 after I told you what I didn't mean ! But you looked 
 at me as if I were only a Proposition." 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 "A Proposition!" she reiterated. "And that mad* 
 me the more perverse." She was silent a moment. "Of 
 course you couldn't understand a person who said what
 
 AFTEE SEVEEAL MONTHS 407 
 
 she didn't mean, and you you misjudged me. Oh, I 
 deserved it/' she added quickly, "I knew then I did!" 
 
 He put out his arm, but she held him from her. 
 
 "It seemed, though, after that, as if things could 
 never be made right and I was so unhappy but too 
 proud to say so. If you had only been at your office on 
 Black Friday, when I went there!" 
 
 He started. "You were there, Elinor ?" 
 
 "Yes, and I thought then you were going to lose* 
 everything and I shouldn't have been then too proud to 
 tell you " She sighed. "But you didn't, and the next 
 day everj'thing was wrong again. I was horrid, and 
 you " she glanced up at him "you were, too !" 
 
 He laughed but did not controvert the statement'. 
 
 "After all it was business, miserable old business 
 that separated us." She looked thoughtfully at him a 
 moment. "I'm afraid, Eichard, you married a very 
 foolish, impractical girl, who dreamed, perhaps, of some 
 romantic, equally impractical, Prince Charming." 
 
 Mr. Strong threw back his head. "Prince Charming ? 
 I am afraid I do not fit the role." 
 
 "N"o," she said, nodding her assent. 
 
 He looked down. Her lips curved ; beneath her lashes 
 was a gleam like the sparkle of frost-crystals. 
 
 "You are not my prince, perhaps ! I may never meet 
 my prince, but I have found "
 
 408 BLACK FRIDAY 
 
 He drew her closer; raised her face to his. 
 " My king!' ; she whispered. 
 
 Of the small company who "dropped in" that evening, 
 no one beamed upon Mr. Strong more complacently than 
 Mrs. Rossiter, while the glances she bestowed upon her 
 daughter were of the tenderest variety. The good lady 
 was at a loss to know how it happened but it had hap- 
 pened, there was no doubt about that and Mrs. Ros- 
 siter might chafe a little with natural, or maternal, curi- 
 osity, but fox the present the fact, the bare fact, must 
 be sufficient unto itself. 
 
 "You came home just in time," whispered Posie to 
 Elinor. 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "Guess?" 
 
 Which was not difficult to do. Between Miss Stanton 
 and Tom Marks, who had accompanied her, had passed 
 many knowing glances, fraught with the weight of a 
 mighty mutual Understanding. Conscious of this 
 happy Secret which was no secret Mr. Marks lost his 
 shyness. The man thus trusted by Miss Posie was surely 
 a person of consequence, and Tom found a new place 
 for himself in his own estimation. He was no longer 
 the Shadow, but the Substance ; the favored of the fair ; 
 the idol of two roguish blue eyes.
 
 AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS 409 
 
 Even Doctor Clement's manner toward Richard 
 Strong was cordial and magnanimous. Perhaps the day 
 had something to do with it, or the cheering goblet of 
 those fair Circes who had presided in the '^best" houses 
 that day. 
 
 "I didn't mind the money so much/' he laughed, 
 "but to have it given to Mr. Beecher's church " 
 
 Mr. Strong glanced at Elinor. Her eyes met his. 
 "Your church, Doctor Clement, shall have a double 
 amount for the poor. That is," he added, smiling, "if 
 there are any." 
 
 The rector coughed. "The poor, sir/' he answered, 
 "we have always with us."
 
 University of California Library 
 Los Angeles 
 
 TTiis book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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