^^rxu>u>c. ';/?. / EVE, JUNIOR Of CALIF. UBRAHY. I.OS There was something about her that impressed him, even before he saw her face EVE, JUNIOR BY REGINALD HEBER PATTERSON AUTHOR OF "THE GIRL FROM No. 13" NEW YORK THE MACAULAY COMPANY 1917 Copyright, 1917, by THE MACAULAY COMPANY TO MY WIFE 2132231 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. ADAM AND EVE 11 II. THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP .... 22 III. THE Kiss 38 IV. THE CONSEQUENCE 50 V. THE IMPOSTOR 63 VI. THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT .... 72 VII. "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS ... 83 VIII. COMPLICATIONS 99 IX. THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE .... 114 X. AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 127 XL THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES ... 142 XII. MOUNT VERNON PLACE 155 XIII. EVE, JUNIOR 167 XIV. VALUE FOR VALUE 181 XV. THE GIRL IN THE SHADOW .... 192 XVI. THE "BIRTH OF SPRING" 203 XVII. BROOKIE 209 XVIII. BACK TO BODKIN 220 7 CONTENTS XIX. A BAFFLING LIKENESS . . . . . . 231 XX. THE SEQUEL OF A RETROSPECT ... 250 XXI. THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 260 XXII. JUDGE NOT 275 XXIII. A FACE IN THE DARK 283 XXIV. THE SHADOW OF THE VALLEY ... 292 XXV. A RED-HEADED WOODPECKER .... 301 XXVI. THE WAGES OF SIN 3 20 XXVII. A LEAF UNFOLDS 3 2 7 XXVIII. ADAM AND EVE REACH A DECISION . . 343 ILLUSTRATIONS There was something about her that impressed him, even before he saw her face . . . Frontispiece FACING PAGE "I reckon I kind o' like you," she told him in her soft violin-like tones 50 "It's all a dam' lie," she cried. "You can't prove a word of it" 116 "So that there is what tuk ye away, is it?". . . 228 EVE, JUNIOR CHAPTER I ADAM AND EVE CURLED up at the foot of a great water oak on the top of the bank overlooking the creek lay a girl, her copperish, red-brown head resting on her left hand while her right held a pencil over a drawing pad on the ground in front of her. The pencil wavered uncertainly, as though the artist dubiously debated the next step in her work. Her simple dress of plain blue denim, confused and disarranged by her care-free attitude, but half concealed the graceful litheness of her slim, well- rounded figure. McLean, regarding her intently, instantly lik- ened the girl to some childishly fresh and beauti- ful wood nymph whose name his mind groped vaguely to recall. Every line of her attitude and figure was breezily refreshing. There was 12 EVE, JUNIOR something about her that impressed him with her innate femininity and youthfulness even be- fore he saw her face, as yet hidden by her heavy coils of glistening hair, each rope of which, un- confined by pin or comb or ribbon, fell where it listed to end in a curl. The surveyor studied it for a dubious, thoughtful moment. "Red!" he decided emphatically; then, retract- ing, "No-o, not red, exactly; auburn! Shucks! That's too common. Must be red! No, it's not red, either; it's wonderful!" Meanwhile, a dog capered about the girl, making an unsuccessful attempt to arouse her from her reverie and announce company. At last, in his playful prancings, he set a none too clean front paw upon her sketching pad and earned a swift slap on the muzzle. "Go 'way, Tip, you onery pup," she warned in a low, sweet voice, which somehow made Mc- Lean remember the name of the nymph he had unconsciously likened her to. He turned from the road then and went toward her. "Good morning, Calypso!" he called quietly. The girl looked around and sat up quickly but without alarm, drawing her feet up and her ADAM AND EVE 13 skirt down. She smiled. And McLean was sure afterward that he must have blinked and opened his mouth. He recovered himself, however, in time to meet her question. She was still smiling when her lips, which he felt a sudden, irresisti- ble desire to kiss, formed an adorable pucker and set a single word to music. "Who?" she inquired, her laughing, gray-green eyes meeting his brown ones with a frank fear- lessness that sent a thrill through him. She tilted her head back ever so little; so that for the briefest instant she appeared a trifle demure, then got to her feet with an unconscious grace that relieved any impression of affectation. "Calypso," McLean repeated. "Isn't this the island Ogygia?" The girl laughed a low, musical laugh that made him think of the bell-like singing of the water under the clean-cut prow of the Ires lazing down the Gulf Stream at half speed. "Them's hellish names," she replied, still laugh- ing a little. "Where'd you git 'em?" McLean felt his spinal column stiffen with the shock of her words yet there she stood, a slim, beautiful, wholesome, whole-hearted child of 14 EVE, JUNIOR seventeen, perhaps, smiling and looking at him with an expression of adorable frankness and waiting for his answer. He felt the blood mount in his face and neck; but the tan of exposure hid it from her. "I beg your pardon," he said contritely. "You reminded me of Calypso, and the island just hap- pened to fit in." "Indeed! Does this here Calypso live on an island, too?" she asked, interested. McLean bit his lip and frowned to keep from laughing. "She did, a long time ago," he replied. "Oh," said the girl, "you never seen her, then; seen her picture, I reckon." "No, I read about her," he returned, trying hard not to laugh. "Oh! In a a book?" she hesitated. "Of course," he said, looking at her narrowly. "I didn't know you could tell about people that-a-way in a book," the girl remarked, thought- fully. She studied the point of her pencil. "I wisht I knowed books," she added, flushing a trifle. She looked up at McLean and then out over the water. The smile faded from her eyes and ADAM AND EVE 15 a pensive longing crept in. Suddenly the sur- veyor understood. "Books aren't everything," he consoled quietly. "The smallest real thing in real life is bigger than the greatest book ever written." The girl pondered this thoughtfully, turning her pencil over and over between her fingers in much the same way, perhaps, as she was turning his words over in her mind. Then, looking up suddenly, she asked, "Who was Calypso?" "Calypso was a beautiful nymph a fairy girl with whom a certain great warrior fell in love a long time ago," McLean explained at random. "Oh ! Do you think I am beautiful?" she asked simply; and in her eyes there was no smile. McLean felt a strange little tightening at his throat. "Yes," he replied with equal simplicity. "I'm glad you think so," she said quietly, then added, musing, "Calypso! Funny name, ain't it? I'm sure glad it ain't mine, for I reckon Dad'd called me Cal and I hate Cal." The dog poked his nose into her hand and whined for affection. "What is your name?" asked McLean. 16 EVE, JUNIOR "Eve," the girl replied, rubbing the dog's cold muzzle. "What's your'n?' "Adam," laughed the surveyor. "You're a liar," she retorted, laughing back at him. McLean's face became suddenly grave. He stud- ied her intently for a moment and then he un- derstood that the expression she had used was merely a part of her vernacular. "What is it*?" he asked, indicating the blurred top sheet of her sketching-pad on which the dog had walked. "It was clouds," she replied with corrective emphasis on the tense, "but it's mostly a mess o' dog-tracks and mud now. It don't matter, though I never could draw clouds." She had hardly spoken when there came a peal of thunder. A sprinkle of rain followed it; and then the squall broke in earnest. "Look," said the girl, pointing up the creek to where the first heavy wind flaws lashed the quiet water into foam, "you can see it a-comin' !" And then, with all the easy grace and swiftness of a deerhound, she turned and fled, laughing, along ADAM AND EVE 17 the trail with the dog leaping playfully at her side. Eve's invitation for McLean to follow was a beckoning of her hand as she half turned in flight. It was hot for the middle of June. All morn- ing the wind had pumped out of the southwest in fitful gusts, scorching as the blasts from an open furnace door; and all the living green things of swamp and shore and sandy lowland swayed and nodded dreamily before it and sighed for the cool- ness of the coming storm. For steadily in the north and west the thunderheads climbed over the horizon, the first of them white and hard and rugged as snow-capped mountain peaks, the followers as black and gray and foam-flecked as a storm-tossed sea. McLean looked up from his fieldbook, cast a weather eye to the north and west, yawned, stretched and went on with his sketch of the shore- line about triangulation station "Hades"; for he had so named the point because of its analogy to that place of heat and general discomfort. But this was before his meeting with the nymph of the island. i8 EVE, JUNIOR A little later, when the shadow of a cloud fell across his book, he looked up again, conscious of the calm and the steamy, earthy smother that had settled down upon the land with the dying of the wind. He stretched and yawned again and, unlimbering his long, khaki-clad, leather- putteed legs, arose from the damp, humid bosom of the earth with the reluctance bred of a sum- mer day. A trout leaped from the water near the bank at his feet, cut a graceful, gleaming semicircle in the still hot air, and dropped back into the coolness of its native element with a little splash that set the ripples dancing shoreward. McLean watched enviously. "I'd have a mind to follow you, old fellow, if it wasn't going to storm," he said aloud. Whereat an echo from the swamp flung back the single warning, "storm." McLean turned to the swamp in the youthful exuberance of his twenty-four years and laughed, "What do I care?" And the swamp solemnly retorted, "care." The young surveyor stood for a contempla- tive interval looking across the wide expanse of brooding water to where the tall, slim topmasts ADAM AND EVE , 19 of the Iris rose beyond the pines on Spit Point. All morning since the cutter had landed him he had walked without seeing a sign of human habi- tation and now he would have gladly signaled the ship and returned to her until the storm had passed but the long, wooded point of land be- tween prevented. So he turned and walked south- ward along the shore, hoping to come to a place where the point would no longer cut him off from communication with his vessel. Splashing on through the mud and waist-high cattails he came now to a sometime well-worn road which the leafy denizens of swamp and wood and shore had almost obliterated. The land here was higher, however, and the footing better than the cattail-covered shore; so that he gladly fol- lowed such faint traces of this antiquated road as Time and Nature had permitted it to retain. And now, as McLean followed this old trail which an age gone by had worn in passing, the dense growth of the ever curving road faded out and the light streamed in ahead where the trail dipped quickly to the shore and lost itself in the inlet. A stone's throw beyond lay an island which at first glance seemed little more than a 20 EVE, JUNIOR low-lying, oyster-shaped patch of pine-grown sand of several acres in extent. On closer inspection, however, McLean discerned a great brick chim- ney rising beyond a willow which apparently concealed the house itself. A small wharf project- ed from the outer end of the island and a cow and numerous chickens gave evidence of human habitation. Imagining the line of the old road to continue across the intervening water, he was able to pick out faintly visible traces of it ascend- ing the island beach to lose itself among the trees. The tide was low and it was evident that this strip of water was easily forded to the island beyond. Wading in, McLean found that in the deepest place it was scarcely to his knees. His arrival upon the island was at first con- tested by a good-sized Chesapeake Bay water dog who vociferously questioned his right to land, only to compromise at the surveyor's kindly approaches, present a sandy paw in greeting and permit his shaggy brown head to be patted and rubbed. Satisfied that the newcomer was a friend, the dog turned and led the way up the continuation of the old mainland road. ADAM AND EVE 21 The sun was gone by now and the sky was filled with threatening, low-hung clouds and dull, distant mutterings. As McLean followed the dog up the old trail he saw, through a break in the trees, that Spit Point no longer concealed the Iris. Before the fury of the approaching storm her white sides and house and yellow masts and fun- nel and trim, sweeping, yacht-like lines made him wish to be on board. Perhaps he could signal her from the wharf; but, just as he had made up his mind to do this, the incident of the nymph occurred to make him forget the Iris and her com- forts. CHAPTER II THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP EVE was waiting in the doorway when McLean reached the house, if house indeed it could be called, for his first impression of it was not so much of a house as of a huge, red brick chimney, towering and wide, which rose like an ancient landmark from the right wing of a hodgepodge, nondescript wooden shack of later edition. So tall was the chimney and so squatty the low- roofed shack that the former acquired an air of aristocratic aloofness, as though rearing its haughty head to such a height it was able to ignore and forget the ungainly plebeian at its feet. The rain fell hard now and the wind whipped it along in driving sheets that glared iridescently with each lightning flash. "Come in!" Eye welcomed him with a smile. "Ain't nobody home 'ceptin' just me. Dad's THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 23 fishin' and Plum, he's snoozin' over to his quar- ters. Plum mostly snoozes when it's right hot.'* "Which makes me think that Plum must be a very sensible fellow. I was wishing this morn- ing that I didn't have anything to do but snooze myself, it was so beastly hot," laughed McLean. "You don't look like a nappy-haid," the girl remarked in a serious tone, regarding him frankly. "I just hate nappy-haids. Now Plum, 'course you got to think about him a-bein' 'most a hun- dred, I reckon. He's different. How old are you?' "Twenty-four. Why?" "Nothin'. I was just a-hopin' you wasn't so very old, that's all," she replied casually and closed the door. McLean now found himself in a room of rather strange admixtures and striking contrasts. The great chimney place was, of course, the dominant feature; yet hardly less impressive was the floor of white tile, cracked and broken here and there as though by intense heat or extremely rough and careless usage; but it was, for the most part, in fairly good condition and as clean as a bed of coral. The furniture, with the exception of 24 EVE, JUNIOR a magnificent table and armchair of mahogany for which any connoisseur of Chippendale would have gladly paid a price, was rough, though ser- viceable and neat. Everywhere he saw little manifestations of a feminine hand which the crud- est furnishings would have failed to conceal. De- spite its peculiar incongruities, the room pos- sessed a distinctly charming and homelike atmo- sphere. The wind rose suddenly and banged a shutter somewhere. The next instant a wild, piercing shriek that seemed to fill the shack and all out- doors froze the blood in the surveyor's veins. It was like nothing so much as the terrified scream of a woman facing mortal danger. He turned to the girl in alarm to find her covering her face with her hands. A sob shook her as he spoke. "What was that?' he demanded. She shook her head and, keeping her face cov- ered, answered fearfully, "I don't know, 'less it's her. Dad says it is." "Her !" McLean repeated vaguely, as the shriek came again. "Who is 'her'?" "Dad's wife, Brookie," Eve replied, shivering anew. THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 25 "Where is she*?" he demanded, looking around; for the cry seemed very near. "Dad says, in the swamp, where she got sucked down," said Eve, uncovering her face. "But the sound seems to come from the chim- ney," averred McLean, going toward the great fireplace at the end of the room. It was deep and dark with shadows. The cry rose again and he shivered and stopped while Eve came to him as if for protection. "How long has this been going on?" he asked, mystified; for the weird sounds seemed to leap directly from the cavernous old chimney-place. "Ever since the night Brookie went off in the storm. She never, never come back any more and Dad says she got ketched in the swamp. It's goin' on five years come this Spring since she went. Dad, he says I done it." She hesitated, crying softly. " 'Done it?' " McLean repeated her words. "Yeh. Drove her away to the swamp. We-all couldn't get along together, me and Brookie. She'd try to make me do all the work and then she'd lay me out to Dad when I'd run away and go sailin' instid. So one night it was a-rainin' and 26 EVE, JUNIOR a-blowin' like cats and Plum, he was off with Dad a-fishin' and she tried to make me go out and cut wood for the fire and I said, 'No, we'd go to bed and wouldn't need no fire,' and she said she was a-goin' t' read she had some books, you know and I said if she wanted to read she could get her own wood. So I started to go to bed and she come in and throwed a bucket o' water on me and, jiminy, it was cold; and I ups with the lamp and it just skipped her haid. And the lamp, it busted all to smithereens and set things on fire and I began to cry. But Brookie, she run for another bucket of water and put the fire out. And then she calls me some names and puts on her hat and coat and packs up her books and some other things o' her'n and off she goes and we ain't heered nothin' of her since 'ceptin' just that." And as the scream died away, Eve fell to sobbing again. "I reckon it's a cuss on me for what I done that night. I'd give anything, anything, to bring her back again." She laid a trembling hand on McLean's arm as if to steady herself. Almost unconsciously he drew her to him, seeking clumsily to comfort her. THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 27 "It's only the wind, little girl," he tried to as- sure her; but she would not listen to him. "Did you ever hear the wind cry like this here thing does'?" she challenged. "No-o, I didn't," he was forced to confess as another shriek leaped from the fireplace and filled the room with its uncanny sound. "It must be the chimney, Eve, the wind in the chimney. Maybe it is due to the shape of it. Perhaps I could figure that out by the laws of acoustics." "Sticks ain't got nothin' to do with it. It ain't the chimley it's the swamp," she declared with quiet conviction. "Come here to the door and listen !" So he followed her to the door, which she opened, and they stood there in the wind and rain to wait for the next weird cry. It came in a moment, a far-flung, piercing scream from the region of the swamp across the mainland. He nodded and they came in and closed the door again. McLean was puzzled. "One of them is only an echo but I'll swear I don't know which one," he said. "Plum, he knows about echoes," Eve spoke up brightly. "Plum says the chimley's the echo." 28 EVE, JUNIOR "Maybe. It's pretty loud for an echo; sounds more like the original, to me. Besides, I never knew of a chimney giving back an echo, but these swamps do, for I noticed it a while ago," McLean remarked thoughtfully. He studied the chimneyplace with a new in- terest. It was a massive piece of brick work with a mantel and hearth of solid slabs of slate. Its construction and appurtenances were typical of a much earlier period. An old iron pot, swinging from the crane, gave evidence of recent use, and numerous other iron utensils hanging on the rack beside the fireplace seemed to indicate that the simple meals of which the shack could boast were still prepared in the manner of half a century and more ago. Standing now almost in the chimneyplace when the weird cry rose again, McLean found that the sound did not originate in the chimney at all, but came, as Eve had told him, from the mainland and was reflected, or thrown back, by the chimney. For, in spite of the distance over which the orig- inal sound must travel, he could plainly discern the fractional interval between the cry from the mainland and its counterpart in the chimney. The THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 29 chimney, he decided, must therefore be the focal point of the echo. At such a place the original sound would be reproduced in nearly its full vol- ume; hence the impression he had first received. "Plum is right, Eve," said McLean, stepping out from the fireplace; "the chimney is the echo, but it's only the wind in the trees or something of that sort over in the swamp. You never hear it when the air is still, do you?" "I don't know," she replied with slow uncer- tainty. "Sometimes it comes in the night and wakes me up and then I'm so skeered that I don't know whether the wind's a-blowin' or ain't." "Was it blowing the night your stepmother went away*?" "Yes, and a-rainin' and a-lightnin' in sheets worse'n now, and it was only April, too, and cold as Christmas. She ain't been gone long enough to ford the neck when comes an awful flash and crash and it seems like the chimley's a-comin' down on the roof and then this here screamin' begun. Plum, he says the lightnin' burnt her up ; but Dad says if it had she wouldn't a-had a chance to screech. He don't put no stock in the lightnin' 30 EVE, JUNIOR a- tall. He thinks the swamp got her, kind o' slow, like." McLean shuddered and smiled grimly. "And what do you think*?" he asked. "Me? I don't know's I think a-tall," Eve re- plied slowly, looking into the fireplace as though she were waiting for the next weird cry to come. "I hate to believe in ha'nts and such; but I reckon this here must be one, don't you*?" "No, I don't," the surveyor denied positively, while deep down in his heart he had begun to feel a real desire, not entirely bred of curiosity, to know what it was himself. The wind had slackened somewhat now; but the rain still poured in torrents. The cries came at intervals, though McLean was sure they were dying with the wind, for they grew fainter and less frequent. The electrical display was passing, too, and the thunder rolled in the distance. In the midst of the steady downpour the door opened and an old negro of uncertain age came in, shaking the rain from his bare, woolly, white head as a pearl diver shakes the water from his ears at the surface. He was neither tall nor short, fat or lean, but THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 31 old McLean felt that he was looking upon the revivified mummy of Rameses. And yet he was as straight as the foremast on the Iris. His skin was as wrinkled as the hide on the flanks of a lean elephant; yet it possessed a strange vitality and youthfulness of color, for it was of the velvety, blue-black hue of the skin of a rich, ripe plum. And that was what Eve called him. "Hello, Plum!" she said, in louder tones than McLean had heard her use before. "Storm wake you up*?" The old negro's eyes had been on the surveyor. He looked at Eve now, transformed his wrinkles into a grin, and cupped his hand at his ear. "Hey*?" he ejaculated, in a voice that seemed to come down through the ages, adding, "What kin ole Plum do fer li'l Missy'?" "Did you hear her to-day, Plum?" Eve inquired of him, anxiously. He nodded in affirmation and his smile faded back into the wrinkles of extreme gravity. "Yas, ole Plum heered her. He reckoned li'l Missy was all by herself and 'lowed she* mount be skeered, so he come," he said simply, in his eccentric way 32 EVE, JUNIOR of always speaking in the third person; and his eyes went back in question to the stranger. Eve turned to McLean and spoke in lowered tones. "You'd best tell Plum who you be, I reckon," she counseled, smiling up at him. "He's funny about the likes o' that. I 'spect he's a-wait- in' for you to say somethin' now." McLean laughed. "Oh, I see. Plum is your guardian angel, is he?" He turned to the old negro and raised his voice, for it was evident that Plum's hearing had suffered somewhat with the passing years. "I am a surveyor from the government vessel lying out there off Spit Point. Just happened along here in time for the squall and Miss Eve very kindly asked me in," he explained to the old negro. Plum acknowledged him with a bow and a mumbled, "Yas, Suh! Yas, Suh!" and proceed- ed to the fireplace, where he busied himself in preparing kindling and driftwood from a box in the corner in a pile for lighting on the andirons. Eve offered McLean the Chippendale armchair and, drawing a stool quite near for herself, sat down with her chin in her hands. THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 33 "You see Plum, he's been here, oh! ever and ever so long," she said. "Ain't nobody, I reckon, knows how old he is. 'Course he don't know, neither. Darkies, they never do, you know. But I reckon he's 'most a hundred, anyways, 'cause Dad, he says that Plum was just as old lookin' when he was a leetle boy as he is now. And Grandpa, he told Dad that Plum's head was gray when they got him ; and that was years and years before the mansion burnt." "The mansion!" McLean echoed, thinking vaguely of the old road, the great chimney and the tiled floor under his feet. "What mansion'?" Eve grew suddenly grave. "Oh, 'course you don't know about the mansion. This here floor's part of it; so's that there chim- ley and the fireplace and all. And the cheer you're a-settin' on and this here table's all that's left of the stuff that was in it. All the rest got burnt up when the mansion did. Plum, he got them two things out 'cause he said Grandpa said they'd come all the way from, oh, I don't know where, across the water, somewheres. And Grandpa thought a heap of 'em. And he carried Dad out, too, Plum did, 'cause Dad was just a leetle boy 34 EVE, JUNIOR and it was night time and he was asleep in the big room upstairs." "But what became of your grandparents'?" asked McLean, interested. "Oh, Grandpa and Grandma, they were dead a long time before the mansion burnt. Old Plum, he buried them over yonder under the big willow that kind o' droops all the time. Maybe you seen the willow when you come by. Dad buried my mother there along side of 'em, later on. But I was so leetle that I don't remember." "But didn't your dad have any relatives, any aunts or uncles or any one to take care of him when his parents died 1 ?" "Nope, not 'ary one; nobody but old Plum. You see, Grandma and Grandpa, they wasn't born in this country like me and you and Dad was. They come over here from some place 'way across the ocean 'cause some old king or somethin' said that if they didn't pick up sticks and git he'd chop off their heads, or somethin' like that. And so they just had to grab what they could ketch and run for the next boat. And that's how it come they come to this here island and built the man- THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 35 sion and all, and bought old Plum, too, I reckon, 'cause Plum, he says he used to be a slave." "I wonder why they chose the island instead of building on the mainland?" McLean mused, half aloud. "Can't tell, 'less it was 'cause they wanted to be off to theirselves, like, away from the rest of folks. Now Plum, he says it was 'cause they'd been used to livin' in a great big old house with a moat all around it, whatever that is." "Oh, I see," the surveyor rejoined. "Plum meant a castle, a great, old-fashioned mansion, with a big, wide trench dug around it and filled with water to keep out enemies. There must have been a drawbridge, too." "Yeh, there was a drawbridge," Eve agreed with emphasis. "Plum, he told about that, too; I remember now." "Well, aren't there any papers or letters or books or anything to show who your grandparents were related to and where they came from when they came here?" "Nope, I reckon they ain't, 'cause everything got burnt up 'ceptin' just this here stuff I told you about. Plum, he said he 'lowed Grandpa had a 36 EVE, JUNIOR hidin' place around here for his money and things 'cause he never had anything to do with banks and the like. But I reckon there's no tellin' about that now, is there?" "I don't know," McLean replied, thoughtfully; "but I do think that some effort should be made to locate your relatives and to trace your grand- father's connections in this country, as well, for it is evident that he was a man of means. What is your last name, Eve?" "Carroll," the girl replied, "and Dad's name is Tilghman Skipworth Carroll, but nobody ever calls him anything 'ceptin' 'Skip,' or maybe some- times 'Skipper/ " "Carroll is English and it is a good name to bear in Maryland, Eve ; and so is Tilghman. For the sake of you and your father and the future of both of you, this thing ought to be looked into," he told her earnestly. "When will your father be back from his fishing 1 ?" "Oh, if it keeps on rainin', Dad may lay out 'til the next tide. That'd put him in about dark. I wisht you could stay 'til he comes. I reckon Dad' 11 like you," she finished, smiling. THE VOICE OF THE SWAMP 37 "What makes you think so?" the surveyor asked, a trifle puzzled. "Oh, 'cause Dad, he mostly likes things and people that I like," she replied with a frank, un- conscious artlessness that rather startled McLean. "Ole Plum's done got de fire a-goin' fo' li'l Missy," the ancient negro announced. "Ain't no let-up to dis here storm a-tall, 'pears like. Ole Plum 'spec' 'de survey' gent'man'll be gittin' kind o' hongry, by'n by," he suggested with a broad smile. Eve laughed. "All right, Plum, thank you. I 'spec' ole Plum is kind o' hongry right this minute," she mocked shrewdly. "Never mind, I'll have some dinner ready in a jiffy." CHAPTER III THE KISS EVE was quick to perceive McLean's aversion to stewed pickled eel, which formed the piece de resistance of the menu she offered her guest. His efforts at peeling Irish potatoes, served in their jackets, brought tears of laughter to her eyes. Then she sobered suddenly and, flushing a little, remarked with quaint contrition, "I reckon I had ought to skin 'em before I put 'em on the table but Dad, he'd rather have 'em in their jackets. Here, let me take them skins off for you. Don't you like eels?" "Why, yes," McLean lied poorly as he sepa- rated a piece of the dark flesh from the long, sinu- ous backbone. "The flavor is very rich and meaty." Eve smiled with quick understanding and put a peeled potato on his plate. "I'm awful sorry we ain't got any other kind of fish or meat. Try 38 THE KISS 39 the flapjacks with some of that there quince jelly. I put it up myself last fall. If I'd o' thought about you maybe not likin' eel, I'd 'a' fried a couple o' chickens. Dad taken all the aigs to town yesterday." "I'm really quite fond of eel and very well satisfied, thank you," McLean replied, making a valiant effort to finish his portion of the reptilian- looking fish. Eve looked at him mischievously, but when he glanced up at her she was quick to assume an expression of gravity. "Ever seen eels a-rompin' along in the shallows inshore, a-playin' with them long, black water snakes that dart in and out amongst the hog- grass?" she asked with casual innocence. "No do they 1 ?" McLean inquired anxiously as he pushed the remaining bits of eel to one side of his plate. Eve's eyes danced as she watched him. "Yep," she asserted incisively, "they sure do. Dad often gets 'em all kinds in a haul. Some- times he says he can't tell 'em apart, they're that much alike." "I hope he didn't make any mistake about this 4-O EVE, JUNIOR one," the guest rejoined wryly, making a mental estimate from the amount remaining on his plate as to how much of this questionable water denizen he had eaten. Eve laughed outright and selected a large piece of eel which she ate with apparent relish, much to the surveyor's disgust. Plum came in presently and stood in the chim- ney corner, waiting for them to finish. In a lit- tle while they were through and the old negro sat down with alacrity. Eve placed his victuals before him and began to clear away the other dishes. Plum watched her for a few minutes with a curious patience and then entered a mild complaint in his characteristic, indirect manner. "Ain't li'l Missy a-fergittin' ole Plum to-day?" "Nope. I been a-waitin' to see if you'd remem- ber," Eve replied as she went to the cupboard. From a small locker underneath the shelves she took a wicker demijohn and poured a scant "two fingers" of red liquor in a wine glass that stood beside the jug, whereat Plum, observing the quan- tity, coaxed for more. "Aw, please, just another drap for ole Plum! THE KISS 41 Li'l Missy mought make hit just another drap to- day." Eve added to the liquor in the glass a very lit- tle more. "There, Plum," she said as she handed it to him. "That's a good two ringers. Now don't you beg for another speck." "Aw, li'l Missy mought make hit three dis here time. Why ole Plum's all kind o' tuckered out to-day," the old negro pleaded. "Well, you'll feel a right smart better when you've et your dinner, Plum. Victuals are a heap better'n whiskey when you're all tuckered out," Eve told him quietly. "Please, just another drap dis time an' ole Plum'll never bother li'l Missy no mo'," he cajoled. "No, Plum, not another drop," said Eve with decision. "If I gave you more now you'd want just as much to-morrow and still more the next day. In a week you'd have the jug and then the Old Boy'd have you." She put the demijohn back in the cupboard and closed the door decisively; and Plum, seeing that further coaxing would avail him nothing, 42 EVE, JUNIOR drained his glass, smacked his lips and attacked his food with the vigor born of an excellent ap- petite. McLean now saw that Plum found eel an inviting dish, for the old negro was soon noisily sucking the meat from the backbone of a big, brownish fellow that Eve had served to him. "I suppose Plum's little drink is a daily per- formance," McLean suggested with a smile as Eve came over to the window where he stood. "Oh, yes," she replied, laughing, "I reckon me and him have gone over pretty much them self- same antics every day since I was right small. "Would you like to see some of the things I've drawed 4 ?" she presently inquired. McLean said that he would; and Eve promptly produced a generous armful of sketches. The drawings were, for the most part, sketches of nearby scenes and of animals or fowls either domestic or native to the surrounding country. Some of them he recognized at once: the shack, with its great chimney towering above it like a monument to the glory that was past; the weeping willow, with its unmarked mounds beneath; Spit Point, from Eve's lookout at the foot of the great THE KISS 43 water oak, and Tip, the shaggy Chesapeake dog that had welcomed him to the island all of them rendered with a true sense of proportion and fidel- ity of detail, yet with that fine artistic touch that is the soul of the picture evident in every stroke of the pencil. There was a sketch of a catboat that especially interested McLean. The little vessel was so sturdy- looking and yet so graceful, too. With its main- sail set it swung at anchor off the wharf near the outer end of the island. "That's my old catty," Eve explained, noting his interest in the sketch. "I'd like to see the boat itself," he said. "This sketch is great. Your talent for drawing, Eve, is nothing less than genius. It deserves to be de- veloped under the guidance of the best masters. Have you ever had any instructions, lessons or anything?" "Lessons," Eve pondered. "You mean books'?" "No, but didn't some one show you how to draw some one who could do this sort of thing, too?" he suggested. "Oh, no," Eve promptly replied, as she saw what he meant, "nobody ever shown me anything. 44 EVE, JUNIOR I just seen things and drawed 'em. I reckon I always could draw, some. 'Pears like I don't ever remember startin' a-tall. You can see this here catty 'most any time when the rain stops. She's a-layin' just offen the wharf, like you see her in the picture. I'll sail you out to your ship if there's any wind later on, and you want me to." "I shall be delighted if you will, thanks. What is the name of your boat?" "I call her East Wind^ 'cause she sails better when the wind is off to the east'ard and she 'pears to love it best of all the winds that blow. And so do I, 'cause it's always so strong and steady and it never fails you. And it smells so fresh and clean and damp and salty, too, 'cause, you know, it come 'cross miles and miles of open water 'way out there where the sea is. Have you ever been to sea?" "Yes, often. We came up here from the Gulf of Mexico last winter." "What is the sea like?" "You are asking me something that is very hard to answer, Eve," the surveyor replied with quiet reverence. "Just think of yourself sitting there in the cockpit of your catboat in the midst THE KISS 45 of a great body of water whose shores you would never reach in weeks and weeks of sailing, even with the wind abeam the fastest sailing wind there is. Well, that is the sea: just sky and air and water and God." "I've often wondered about it and when I do it always kind o' takes my breath and makes my heart jump up and down and pound like a boat close-hauled in a head sea. There's somethin' terrible about so much waves and wind and water as that must be, and somethin' grand, too. It's like the hand o' God spread out to grip your soul and hold it to Him when your knees get all trim- bly and you're a- feared to turn and run. I've felt that-a-way right here in Bodkin when the east wind licked in from the bay. It makes you feel kind o' leetle and all alone, like, with so much bigness all around you and you're kind o' skeered and happy all at the same time without a-knowin' just why." McLean turned from the sketch of the catboat to study the girl with a newly awakened interest. He felt that for the briefest moment it had been permitted him to glimpse her soul and the sight of it was good. 46 EVE, JUNIOR In physical perfection, too, Eve was remark- able. The smooth, sweeping curves of her vigor- ous young body were not molded and massaged into shape by any human devices nor confined by any artificial means; they were simply muscles modeled by Nature and molded and strengthened into firm shapeliness by her active life in the open. Her features, too, had gained, rather than suffered, from exposure, for they possessed a delicate de- termination and ruggedness that added to the glory of their health and beauty in a way that cosmetics would have vainly mocked. She turned from the window and surprised his admiring glances. "I reckon the rain's about done for," she re- marked, flushing ever so little. A little later, when patches of blue began to show through the scurrying clouds overhead, Eve and the surveyor went down to the wharf at the outer end of the island. Here the catboat was moored, stern line to the wharf log, head anchored out. With the passing of the storm the wind died and they had to abandon Eve's suggestion of re- turning McLean to the Iris in the catboat. Pres- THE KISS 47 ently the sun came out and the surveyor began to signal his vessel by means of a small convex mirror which he carried in his pocket. Finally, the Iris answered him with a short blast of the whistle and a few minutes later the cutter put out toward them. Eve fell silent for an interval, during which she thoughtfully watched the oncoming boat. Suddenly she turned to her companion and asked, "Is your name really 'Adam"?" The surveyor laughed. "No, it is Douglas Mc- Lean. Why?" "Oh, that's a heap better. I hate 'Adam.' What made you say \t was 'Adam' ?" "Well, you said yours was Eve " "So 'tis Eve. What o' that?" "Why, Eve made me think of 'Adam,' that's all." "Well, I don't see what's Adam got to do with it. Who's this here 'Adam'?" "The first man in the Bible Eve's husband." "The Bible," Eve repeated, groping vaguely for the connection in her memory; then, of a sud- den, she recalled it. "Oh, yes ! Brookie had the Bible but she taken it with her. I used to coax 48 EVE, JUNIOR her to read me about it but she'd just say I wouldn't understand, nohow. I reckon that's how it come I never heered about this 'Adam.' " "The next time I come over, Eve, I'll bring a Bible with me and read you the Book of Gene- sis," McLean told her with quick resolution. "Reading the Bible aloud, or otherwise, is some- what out of my line; but I think you at least ought to know about the Creation." "I reckon I had ought to," Eve admitted grave- ly. "When might you be a-comin' again *?" "Just as soon as I can," he replied sincerely. "To-morrow evening, perhaps. I want to see your father, too, the next time I come." The cutter, diverging from its course to avoid the sandbar that reached out from the southern end of the island, was for the moment obscured by the high bank near the wharf. Eve was lean- ing on a pilehead looking thoughtfully at a school of alewives disporting in the sunlight near the sur- face. Suddenly she turned and faced her tall companion. Her hand sought his arm with a touch that thrilled him. He looked down into her upturned face and she met his eyes with the THE KISS 49 frank fearlessness of a child, her own eyes deep with newly awakened feeling. "I reckon I kind o' like you," she told him in her soft, violin-like tones. He felt the sudden tide of hot blood sweep- ing to his neck and face and temples. Before he realized what he was doing he was crushing her in his arms while his lips sought hers and found them in an unresisted kiss that filled his very soul with sweet content. It was at this full moment that the tail of his eye caught the cutter moving swiftly into view past the bank. Reluctantly he permitted Eve to slip from his arms. She stood for a moment facing him, her eyes ablaze, her cheeks scarlet, her attitude defiant and then the fire faded out of her eyes and a smile came in to take its place. The next instant she was gone. CHAPTER IV THE CONSEQUENCE As the cutter drew in alongside of the wharf McLean saw that Caleb Johnson, first officer of the 7m, was in charge of it. The surveyor had never liked "Cabe," as the mate was familiarly known, and he had good reason to believe that Cabe entertained a similar dislike for him. John- son had been in the service but a short time. And beyond the fact that he had made a capable and efficient first officer, little was known of him. McLean's dislike for the man was a subtile, in- tangible, unreasoning aversion that he could not explain. Sometimes he felt that it was merely a repugnance to Johnson's outward appearance, for though he was a tall, well-built and rather good-looking fellow, his eyes, which were of a distant and unfriendly gray, were set a trifle too close together. Though Johnson had never openly indicated 50 'I reckon I kind o' like you," she told him in her soft violin-like tones THE CONSEQUENCE 51 it, McLean knew that Cabe harbored "a quiet con- tempt for his youth and inexperience. The, young surveyor had been quickly advanced to chief of party and given complete charge of the 7m, a commission which Johnson sullenly resented, for he felt that the position should have gone to an older and more experienced man. He resented, too, the idea of having to take orders from a man ten years his junior. As McLean boarded the cutter Johnson saluted him, frowning. "To the 7m, Sir*?" he asked glumly. McLean nodded affirmation and sat down in the sternsheets. Johnson gave his orders to the quartermaster and the cutter backed out, reversed and headed down stream. "Didn't know you were acquainted around here," the mate remarked with casual sarcasm. "I'm not," McLean replied shortly. "What do you call it, then*?" asked Johnson with unpleasant insistence. "Call what, Mr. Johnson?" the surveyor drawled to evade the issue, for he realized that Cabe must have seen the episode of the kiss. "Oh, the girl on the wharf, you know what I 52 EVE, JUNIOR mean. Quick work, eh?" Johnson laughed sug- gestively. McLean flushed with sudden anger. "I found her a very charming child," he replied tartly. "Quite charming, indeed," mocked the mate with an unpleasant laugh. "Oh, quite, I assure you. Yes, I noticed that myself. Some child, Chief, if you'll pardon my saying so, some child. Rather precocious, too, for one so young. Make a date, did you?" "I don't consider it any of your damned busi- ness whether I did or not," McLean retorted hotly. "Come, now, Chief," said Johnson, slurring the title in a way that made it biting sarcasm, "come, what's the use of getting sore over a fisherman's whelp?" "Johnson, the less you and I have to say to one another the better we'll get along," the surveyor counseled quietly. "What happened there on the wharf was entirely my fault and very unfortu- nate for the the girl. I don't care to hear any more about it." "Very gallant of you to take all the blame on THE CONSEQUENCE 53, yourself. I wonder if the next one will do as much 1 ?" sneered Cabe. "Just what do you mean by 'the next one"?" McLean demanded with feeling. "Oh, shucks, Chief, these river snipes are all alike. The sky's their limit and they'll go it with anybody. But I guess you know that by now. No exception, was she?" "You'll go ashore with me for that," McLean flung back in passion. "I'll do no such a thing," the mate replied with a contemptuous laugh that brought the younger man to his feet. But Cabe only grinned up at him and sat quite still. McLean turned to the quartermaster and ordered the cutter's course directed to a landing near Spit Point. "Hold your course to the Jm, my boy," the mate coolly contradicted. "Put in at that landing or I'll report you both for insubordination," McLean warned with calm determination. Johnson laughed again but said nothing and the quartermaster headed the cutter toward the landing which the younger man had designated. 54 EVE, JUNIOR As the cutter came alongside of the bulkhead Mc- Lean sprang ashore. "I'm waiting for you, Mr. Johnson," he called when he saw that the mate had made no effort to follow him. "Well, wait and be damned," Cabe replied, coolly crossing his legs. "You're a miserable coward if you won't come ashore," McLean taunted hotly. "You'll be a jelly fish if I do," was the mate's contemptuous, laughing threat. "Johnson, I've always thought there was a yel- low streak in you, and now I know it. You're a blackguard and a coward." "And you're a dam' fool and a cripple crip- pled in the head and I don't fight youngsters so afflicted," the mate replied with his nonchalant, sneering laugh. McLean turned and walked back to the bulk- head as if to board the cutter again. Johnson was sitting in the sternsheets directly below him. Suddenly the surveyor stooped, gripped the mate firmly by the collar of his tunic and, lifting him clear of the cutter, tumbled him into the shallow water between the boat and the bulkhead before THE CONSEQUENCE 55 the man, taken thus unawares, had time to re- alize what was happening to him. In a moment Cabe was climbing out again, his head and shoulders covered with long, green, matted fronds of hog-grass that gave him the rather ludicrous appearance of a puffy, overgrown bull-frog. And as he came up over the bulkhead he sputtered and swore in a way that indicated that he would no longer require coaxing to fight. Shaking the water and grass from him as he came, the mate made a savage lunge for McLean, who avoided the attack and, circling deftly, swung a smashing right to Johnson's ear. Blind with rage, the older man turned and made as if to run his adversary overboard, but the surveyor sidestepped his rush and, landing heavily on the hinge of his opponent's jaw, backed away toward the shore. Johnson followed, vainly seeking an opportunity to clinch. Once on dry land, Johnson plunged at him with his head down like a mad bull, raining blows right and left. Fortunately, McLean, having plenty of foot room, was able to avoid most of them, taking only such as he was compelled to in order to reach the mate's chin and mouth in a way that sent 56 EVE, JUNIOR the man reeling backward with the blood stream- ing from his lips. The younger man followed up his momentary advantage with a wind-fetching punch to the pit of Johnson's stomach. This half doubled the mate up with pain and McLean, clos- ing in, reached his face again and again. And at last Johnson sank heavily upon the ground. At this juncture the crew of the cutter inter- fered, for Johnson was nearly exhausted. "I think he's had enough, Sir," the quartermas- ter ventured. "You'd better come aboard." McLean broke away from the peacemakers and stood over his sprawling adversary, waiting for him to get up that he might knock him down again. But Johnson made no attempt to regain his feet. His breath came quick and short and his face and coat were smeared and splotched with blood. Already his eyes were swollen and badly discolored. McLean stirred Johnson none too gently with his foot. "Apologize for the girl's sake, damn you," he demanded. The mate muttered a curse and began to get to his feet. The surveyor waited until he had THE CONSEQUENCE 57 risen. The moment Johnson had regained his feet he made a weak, ineffectual attempt to lunge at the younger man. As he did so McLean's right caught him squarely between the eyes. The mate reeled backward, caught himself, staggered a few feet, then fell in a motionless heap on the sand. The surveyor stood for an instant watching him grimly. After a little he turned away and went on board the boat. Later, when the others had returned to the Iris, the quartermaster came to McLean and told him that Johnson had declared to "get even." "The mate's a bad enemy, Sir," the man warned gravely. "I knowed him when he was snapper nshin' out o* Mobile and Pensacola. I'd advise you to look sharp, Sir; he'll be up to tricks 'fore long." The next morning when the survey corps board- ed the cutter to be set ashore at their respective stations, the second officer, Thomas, captained the boat; for Johnson had been reported in sick bay. After the men had been placed on their points McLean went on to triangulation station "Hades," intending to complete his reference 58 EVE, JUNIOR sketch there and pick out other points further up the creek. On his arrival, however, he discovered that he had not brought his fieldbook containing the triangulation notes of the upper Chesapeake Bay and tributaries. This, he thought, was odd, as he could not re- call having removed it from his hip pocket the night before. He assumed that he must have done so, however, and had neglected to replace it when he had dressed that morning. As there was space enough for the day's work in another book which he had, he decided to go ahead with his program instead of returning to the Iris at once for the fieldbook. That evening, however, a search of his quar- ters and effects failed to produce the missing book, nor could he remember when or where he had had it since he put it in his hip pocket after leaving station "Hades" to go to the island. He ques- tioned his corps and the crew of die vessel, but none of them had any knowledge of it. Finally he concluded that he must have left it at the shack, though he had no recollection of removing it from his pocket at any time. Since the book contained much of the original field notes of the triangula- THE CONSEQUENCE 59 tion surveys of the past two months, its loss would mean that this work would have to be duplicated, a feature involving the expenditure of thousands of dollars. It would mean, too, the inevitable sev- erance of his connection with the service, with a blot of carelessness upon his record. Immediately after dinner McLean ordered his small, high-powered hydroplane lowered oversides and boarding her he proceeded at once to the island. As he approached the wharf he noticed a tall, spare, weatherbeaten man in the rough garb of a waterman overhauling his nets and eel-pots and placing them in the stern of a stout-looking power bateau which was moored at the inshore wing of the wharf. The surveyor rightly assumed the fisherman to be "Skip" Carroll. He landed and, introducing himself, explained his errand. Carroll listened attentively, mean- while taking in every detail of the measure of his visitor. In spite of his weatherbeaten features and worn, toil-stained garments there was some- thing distinctive and striking about the man. He produced the unexpected and conflicting impres- sion of virile, yet decadent, aristocracy. His eyes were the eyes of his daughter, a coincident fea- 60 EVE, JUNIOR ture that marked him with unmistakable certainty the parent of Eve. The tall fisherman smiled and extended his hand in greeting when McLean had finished his explanation. "I'm right glad to be a-meetin' you, Mister McLean," he said in hearty, sincere tones. "Eve, she was a-tellin' me how you'd come in yis- tidday outen the squall. Said she kind o' reck- oned you mought come ashore this evenin' for a spell. I don't recollect her a-mentionin' no book, howsoever, but you go right along up to the house, Sir, an' welcome. I'm a-goin' out on this tide an' there ain't nobody to home but Eve an' old Plum, but you 'pear like a gentleman, Sir." "Thanks," McLean answered gravely. "I hope that you may never have cause to change your opinion." Eve was hanging out the dish towels when he reached the shack. "I thought you said you were a-comin' over this evenin'," she remarked with a little petulant frown when she saw him. "Well, I'm here," McLean laughed, a bit puz- zled. "Yeh, but this ain't evenin'," she complained, THE CONSEQUENCE 61 "this is night. Supper's all done and dishes washed and put away and it's a-gettin' dark a'- ready." "I'm sorry, Eve. I didn't think you expected me to supper," he apologized. "Oh, that's all right," the girl smiled up at him quickly; "I just kind o' reckoned you meant to come earlier and when you didn't I felt a leetle bit put out about it, that's all. Did you bring the Book o' o' Geraniums'?" "The what 1 ?" exclaimed McLean with a frown of perplexity. "Why, that there Book o' oh, you know the one you said I had ought to know about, cre- mation, or somethin' another, in the Bible, I reckon," Eve explained, groping for the unfa- miliar words. McLean laughed. "You mean the Book of Genesis. No, I didn't bring it, Eve. I forgot all about it, to tell you the truth, for I've lost my fieldbook and I haven't been able to think of anything since. I was won- dering if I had left it here yesterday." "Nope, I reckon not, I didn't see it. What's it look like?" 62 EVE, JUNIOR McLean described its appearance, but Eve knew nothing of it. The only thing that remained for him to do now was to go carefully over the ground he had traversed the day before from station "Hades." He realized with much concern that such a search would offer but the faintest pos- sibility of success on account of the dense under- brush and swampy marsh lands through which the trail had taken him. He left the island a little after dark to return to the Ins with the intention of making a thorough inspection of the vessel. Eve went down to the wharf with him and just before he boarded his hydroplane he gave her a little anchor-shaped gold pin which had be- longed to his mother. It was the first piece of jewelry the girl had ever possessed. When he had gone Eve hurried back to the shack, where she went at once to her room and made a light. For a long time she sat studying the little trinket with delighted eyes. Later, she got a sheet of paper and a pencil and began to make a sketch of it. CHAPTER V THE IMPOSTOR CABE JOHNSON was standing at the starboard rail amidships when McLean ordered his hydroplane lowered. He knew that McLean would soon re- turn to institute a search of the ship when he failed to find his book at the shack, and so he waited for the first flash of the hydroplane's run- ning lights which would indicate the surveyor's departure. As McLean's stay lengthened the mate's impa- tience increased. Finally, unable to content him- self with waiting, he descended the accommoda- tion ladder to the yawl moored at the foot of it and rowed slowly in the direction of Spit Point. He was lying quietly by, his oars shipped and waiting, when the hydroplane's stern light flashed through the darkness. Presently, with all her run- ning lights gleaming steadily, the little craft came tearing across the dark, smooth water. A moment later she was far beyond the skulker. 63 64 EVE, JUNIOR Then Johnson turned, and, rounding the point, rowed rapidly to the bulkhead where McLean had whipped him the day before. Here he went ashore and groped about in the sand for some time, now stooping to feel with his hands, now tamping the beach with his feet. Finally, he came upon the little mound of sand he sought, and, stuffing the object which he found concealed there into an empty coat pocket, he re- turned to the yawl and directed his course toward the island. A little later Johnson moored his boat at Car- roll's wharf and went on up the road to the shack. He had seen Skip go out in his bateau and knew that there was no one on the island but Eve Car- roll and the old negro. He therefore rapped boldly on the front door of the shack and awaited results. Eve answered his summons unafraid and fully dressed. "I came to see your father," said Johnson gruffly. "Is he about?" "No, he's nshin'," Eve replied with equal brev- ity. "What do you want of him?" THE IMPOSTOR 65 "It's a pretty serious matter," the mate told her in a doleful voice and drew a long face. "Oh, it is. Well, s'pose'n you tell me about it," the girl suggested fearlessly. "I'm an officer from the United States Fisheries Bureau," Johnson lied smoothly, as he pushed his way in through the half-open door. "Your father has been taking undersized fish in his hauls, and I've come to arrest him." "You don't say so," Eve challenged, her eyes flashing. She folded her arms and blocked his further progress into the room by putting her foot against the door. Johnson regarded her with assumed anger. "Yes, I do say so, and if you know what's good for you, kid, you'll let me in without any trouble about it. Your old man ain't out fishing, he's inside there asleep." Eve laughed in derision. "You know dam' well my Dad ain't to home. I reckon that's how 'tis you make so bold to come here in the night like this. You'd better not let him ketch you 'round this here island after I tell him what you said about him or, man, he'll whale time outen you." 66 EVE, JUNIOR Johnson laid a heavy hand upon her shoulder. She promptly shook it off and he caught her by the wrist. "Don't you know that you're only making trou- ble for yourself by talking that way"? I'll arrest you, too, as an accomplice, if you're not careful," he growled ominously. "And if you don't let go o' my wrist I'll give you a backhander in the face that'll fetch you to your senses," Eve threatened, her cheeks aflame with anger. "My Dad's out nshin,' like I told you, and he ain't a-takin' no culls, neither, and never did; and if you ain't a-wantin' to lay up for repairs I reckon you'd best clear out and never tell him he did, neither." "The man don't live that I'm afraid of," the mate boasted, even though his face still bore evi- dences of his recent encounter with McLean. "I'll get him and I've got the goods on him, too, when I do get him. That live-box of his will tell the story," he added, still holding Eve's wrist. With a quick, angry movement the girl wrenched her wrist from his grasp and stamped her foot impetuously. "There ain't never been anything in that there THE IMPOSTOR 67 live-box to hurt Dad, and there ain't nothin' there now. Dad's square, he is, and you're crookeder'n a grapevine, and if you're a-goin' to put up a job on him I'll I'll kill you, that's what I'll do." Johnson laughed contemptuously but her beauty had aroused him. He made a futile ef- fort to embrace her and got a resounding slap in the face for his presumption. "You're a regular little bear-cat," he ejacu- lated, as he rubbed the sting of her hand out of his cheek. Then his eyes narrowed craftily and he came to the point of his mission. "I'll tell you what I'll do; I'll make a bargain with you, kid: for a kiss or two, I'll let your father off this time, and we'll call it square. Come on, you may as well be friends with me! It will keep your dad out of a lot of trouble, and it won't do you any harm, either," Johnson suggested with an evil smirk. "My Dad don't have to be kept out o* no trou- ble, 'cause he ain't in none," Eve flashed back. "And I wouldn't be friends with you for for anything, 'cause you're just a low-down, lyin', good-for-nothin' shrimp, you are, and I reckon you'd better git before I call Plum." 68 EVE, JUNIOR "Call him, if you want to get him arrested. I've got a warrant for him, too, and it will save me the trouble of coming back," said the mate with plausible candor. Eve regarded the man with a new interest bred of increasing fear. "You surely wouldn't take old Plum away from this here island, would you 4 ?" she asked, her lips a-tremble. "I'll have to take them both if you don't do what I'm proposing." "Well, Pd just like to see the likes of you a-takin' Dad. Why, man, he'd bait his lines with the scraps that was left o' you when he got done handlin' you. But poor old Plum you just try it and I'll settle with you in about two flips of a flapjack." Johnson watched her dilating, angry eyes and the ebb and flow of red in her cheeks, and a mad- ness seized him. Springing suddenly toward her he caught her by the elbows and pinned her arms at her sides while his breath whistled between his clenched teeth. He bent his head until his face was in her hair and then she kicked him so hard that he doubled up with pain. As his head went THE IMPOSTOR 69 down she caught his ear between her teeth and held on until he yelled and let go of her arm in order to protect himself. The instant her hands were free she slapped him right and left with all her might while he covered his face with his arms and retreated back- ward toward the door. His course was some- what ill-directed, however, for he missed the open- ing by a wide margin and presently found him- self crouching in a chair into which he had inad- vertently stumbled with his back to the wall. And then Eve burst into tears, and, turning, fled to her room where she barricaded the door with a chair and flung herself upon her bed in a passion of unrestrained weeping. The mate recovered himself with a sheepish, self-conciliatory grin. He got up and looked around for a mirror. But the Carroll living-room did not boast such a luxury. His roving eyes fell upon a framed print of the late President Mc- Kinley with the name of a well-known tea-and- coffee house blazoned in advertisement across the bottom of the frame. He studied it for a mo- ment with a peculiar, growing interest as if the sight of it had brought an idea into being. A yo EVE, JUNIOR slow, malicious smile overspread his scratched, bleeding face. On his toes he crossed the room to where the picture hung beside the cupboard. From his pocket he took the object he had found in the sand and slid it in back of the pic- ture, wedging it between the wires to be sure that it would not fall out. He then went to the door of Eve's room and tried the knob, but the chair held fast and the door would not open. "I'm going now, you little she-devil," he called in his bullying, half angry tone, "and if I hear anything about what happened to-night I'll come back and get you and your old Plum and your father, too. I'll bring a cage along to put you in, you little bear-cat. Now don't forget, not a word about to-night or the law will take you in hand, and it won't be good for you." And with this parting admonition to which Eve did not reply, Johnson departed to the wharf where he bathed and cooled his scratched and ach- ing face in the brackish water of the creek. When he felt that his appearance would pass without exciting suspicion on board the 7m, he got into the yawl and rowed slowly toward the ship. Later, as he was taking a turn about the deck THE IMPOSTOR 71 before retiring, he noticed McLean sitting at his desk in his cabin writing a report of the loss of his triangulation book to Washington. From the darkness and security of the deck the mate saw the address on the official envelope, and turned away with a grim smile of satisfaction. As he was about to enter his room a few min- utes later, the second officer, Thomas, who was on watch, caught sight of his disfigured face. "Where'd you get the decorations'? Looks as though you'd had an unsuccessful argument with a healthy bobcat," the younger man suggested pleasantly. "I went ashore to hunt for a spring and got mixed up in those dam' greenbriars," Johnson grumbled as he entered his cabin. Without cere- mony he closed the door in the face of his brother officer, for he was anxious to be alone. Three days later McLean received a reply from Washington which stated that unless the book was recovered in ten days he would be dismissed from the service. CHAPTER VI THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT EVE'S room was misty with the first faint grayish light of dawn when she awoke to find herself lying, still fully dressed, across her bed. Child- like, she had an inordinate, unreasoning fear of the law which to her was, in any form, a quick- sand of unthinkable possibilities. The very word connoted in her mind visions of prison bars and dungeons where the sunlight never came. The big bully in the uniform had told her to say nothing, and nothing would happen. She knew that her father had not disobeyed the law, but what was the law and how might he be able to prove his innocence*? It never occurred to Eve that the proof of guilt must be sustained by the law itself. To her the law was a great unseen arm of intangible irrevocability, infallible, final. If the hand of the law reached out and grasped her father in its relentless clutches she was very THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT 73 sure he would have to fight for freedom. Perhaps it would be best to obey the stranger's parting admonition and say nothing at all about his noc- turnal visit. During the week that followed McLean visited the island several times. The loss of the fieldbook, however, was a serious obstacle to his complete enjoyment of the hours he spent off duty, and he was, for the most part, a dull guest. Eve, tod, with the memory of his kiss still burning on her lips, was inclined to be somewhat distant and re- served when the surveyor was present. She never quite forgot herself in that sweet unconsciousness which McLean had found so childishly charming at first. Nor was she self-conscious, but he had many occasions to regret his impulsiveness that first day on the wharf, for he often felt the in- visible barrier of convention which the incident had raised between them. And when, in despair of surmounting the obstacle, he attempted to re- peat the episode of the kiss he was met by a quiet, smiling, yet firm rebuff which, though plainly par- doning the present offense, as plainly warned against a future repetition. McLean came away feeling what he hated to admit: that the sweet, 74 EVE, JUNIOR lovable child he had unwittingly kissed but a few days before had suddenly developed into woman- hood, sweeter, more lovable, more beautiful than ever. Meanwhile, after making every effort to locate his missing book, he was finally forced to the unwelcome conclusion that it had somehow fallen overboard and sunk, though doubtless it would have floated for a time until it became thoroughly saturated with water. And thus it was that on the evening of the ninth day after McLean had received the ultimatum from Washington he went to the island to say good-by. Skip was out with his nets somewhere on the bay and Plum, Eve said, was "snoozin' " in his quarters, as usual. The night was warm and still, with the pros- pect of a storm out of the northwest where the heat lightning played in softly vivid flashes along the crests of thunderheads assembled there. Eve suggested a stroll around the island beach, to which McLean consented. He was not in the mood for talking, and the walk would occupy enough of their attention to make his lack of words less obvious. He had learned, too, that THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT 75 Eve had a quaint little way of philosophizing as they idled along together, and her words and quiet manner always soothed him like a lullaby. As yet he had not told her that the loss of the book would result in his dismissal from the service, and she had no idea that this visit meant good-by. "Oh, about the book," Eve said at length. "I'm awful sorry. But maybe it ain't too late yet. Brookie used to say that in stories things always turned out right just at the last minute when you was a-commencin' to reckon they never, never would. Maybe it'll be that-a-way with your book." McLean laughed at her quaint, childish sim- plicity. "I'm afraid not, Eve," he replied, drawing a long breath. "Besides, I'm going away to-mor- row." The girl stopped quite still and looked out over the water to where the Iris lay at anchor in a shim- mer of reflected light. "Away," she repeated vaguely, "to-morrow?" "To-morrow morning," said McLean. "Where? 5 "I don't know yet. I've hardly thought about 76 EVE, JUNIOR it. I had not given up hope of finding the book until to-night." "I'm sorry," said Eve with sincere simplicity. McLean turned quickly toward her, while the thrill of an impulse to take her in his arms was checked by her own intuition, for she looked away and began to walk slowly on. The surveyor fol- lowed with his pulses pounding. Completing their circuit of the island they came presently to the wharf, and, turning, went up the road toward the shack, for Eve had told McLean that she had made a sketch of the Iris and she wanted him to see it and pass upon it. As they entered she made a light in the living room, then went on to her own room where she lit her lamp and called him. The new sketch occupied what appeared to be the last available space on the wall. Like all the others about it, it was held in place by four tacks and framed by four other sketches which, though excellent in themselves, accentuated the marked improvement in the later drawing. "You're wasting your time here in Bodkin, Eve," McLean told her with a sincere directness that sounded harsh. "The world has better use THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT 77 for you. You ought to take advantage of this glorious talent now." "Dad's here and old Plum," she replied gravely. "I reckon I'll stay by 'em like I had ought to. I've always been here, and I've been right happy, mostly. I don't know how it'd be out yonder, there," she concluded wistfully, pointing town- ward. McLean smiled in sympathetic understanding. "Perhaps you're right, Eve this is your home. It's the most wonderful place in the world when you feel that way about it." "Where is your home*?" she inquired, looking up with sudden, thoughtful interest. "I haven't any. My parents have been dead for a number of years." "Got any sisters, or brothers or anything?" "No, only a few distant cousins." "Oh, that's too bad. No wonder you said you didn't know where you'd go to-morrow," Eve re- marked soberly; and McLean laughed, then so- bered, too, with the thought that the Iris had been his home for nearly five years. To-morrow's part- ing would not be so easy, after all, he realized with a pang of regret. 78 EVE, JUNIOR It was getting late now and he turned to go. As he left Eve's room a sudden draught of air closed the front door with a bang that sent a tre- mor through the shack. The picture of President McKinley rattled against the wall and a dark ob- ject slipped from in back of it and fell to the floor with a little thud that made the surveyor turn to see what had caused the sound. With a start of amazement he stooped quickly and picked up his triangulation book. Eve stared curiously at the unfamiliar object. "What is it 4 ?" she asked simply. "Yes, what is it," McLean repeated in sudden anger. "You know well enough what it is. That was a devilish trick to play when you were aware of the fact that the loss of this book was causing so much trouble.'* Eve's glance left the book to seek his accusing eyes. She felt an odd mixture of curiosity, fear and resentment. Her face reddened with a flush and her eyes grew bright with little angry lights. She started to speak, lost the thread of what she meant to say and stared at the book again. McLean studied her for an intent, angry mo- ment, then put the book in his pocket, and with- THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT 79 out a word left the shack. Eve watched him as he closed the door and hurried down the road. The hot blood burned her cheeks. Her eyes were full of tears. McLean returned to the Iris feeling that he owed Johnson some measure of apology for the unfortunate affair which had ended in their fight. First, however, he meant to have a wireless sent to the Naval Academy to be relayed to the depart- ment at Washington reporting the recovery of the fieldbook. The first officer was standing at the rail near the accommodation ladder when the surveyor came on board. McLean did not observe him, however, and went at once to the wireless room where he gave his instructions to the operator. Johnson walked quietly over and stood just outside the open door and overheard the message. As Mc- Lean came out again, the mate stepped quickly into the shadow around the corner of the house. It was at this moment that the watch approached. "Where is Mr. Johnson?" asked McLean. "He was on the port deck near the gangway a few minutes ago, Sir," the watch replied, pass- ing on. 8o EVE, JUNIOR The face of the man in the shadow went white. A tremor of fear shook him as with palsy. He watched McLean go on up the deck and enter his room, then he made a stealthy dash for the accom- modation ladder. Running hurriedly down the steps, he entered the yawl and rowed silently away in the darkness. Hours later came the wind and the rain and the lightning; and the storm broke in all its mid- summer fury. And weird sounds arose from the swamp and filled the shack with their mocking terror. Old Plum, deaf though he was to nearly every other sound save this, was awakened, and, fearing that his "li'l Missy" would be frightened, left his quarters and went to comfort her. But at the open door of her room he stood aghast ; his old knees began to tremble and his old eyes stared in startled unbelief. For the first vivid lightning flash had shown him her untouched bed all smooth and white and empty. In sudden panic the ancient negro fell to sob- bing like a child that has lost its way, and he wan- dered from end to end of the deserted shack, cry- ing her name aloud and begging her in piteous THE SHADOW OF A DOUBT 81 tones to come to him. And when this proved of no avail he plunged wildly out of doors, and ran stumbling along the island beach, bare-headed and bedraggled, heedless of the wind and rain that sought to beat him down, pitting his feeble old voice against the mighty voice of the storm, calling for his "li'l Missy" to come back. But the dog, Tip, alone heard his call and an- swered it. He tugged and strained at the end of his chain until a weak link somewhere in its length gave way and freed him. With the unerring in- stinct of his breed he responded to the necessities of the moment and covered the island many times as Plum encircled it. At last, however, both man and dog were forced to admit the uselessness of their quest. Weary and discouraged, fearful past fearing for the safety of his ward, wet to the skin and bruised and battered by many falls as he stumbled about in the inky blackness that closed in upon each blinding flash, Plum finally made his way back to the shack and dropped into the old Chippen- dale chair, prostrated with grief and fatigue. And Tip followed him and sat at his feet and licked his old, shriveled black hands in humble commis- 82 EVE, JUNIOR eration while the end of the broken chain clanked ominously against the chair legs a fitting accom- paniment to the wail of the wind, the shriek of the swamp, the bursting peal and roll of the thunder. CHAPTER VII "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS IT was seven bells of the first watch when John- son came aboard the Iris in the gloam of the early summer morning. The storm had abated and the eastern sky was pink with promise of the coming day. "In case any one mentions it," he told the watch with a confidential wink, "just forget that you saw me this morning, and I'll make it worth your while." A little later on, in from the storm-tossed bay came Skip Carroll, singing right merrily as his bateau chugged along, the kick of her noisy, one- lunged motor aided by a leg-o' -mutton foresail bellied and taut with the wind abeam. "Eight bells an' all's well, Wind nor' west a-blowin' like hell," 83 84 EVE, JUNIOR sang Skip, as he passed to windward of the Iris; and Johnson, just about to slip into his bunk for a catnap before reveille, paused at his cabin port to peer through the half-light of the new day at the big, light-hearted fisherman. A slow, evil smile overspread his face. He was glad that the storm had detained Carroll. The storm had, indeed, delayed Skip. Most of his nets were staked out along the exposed south shore of the bay below the gooseneck that forms Bodkin Point, and when the squall broke he had made a hasty run for the shelter of this low-lying sand spit. Here he lay under the windward of the point during the two hours the storm had raged. Long after the wind and rain had abated, however, the heavy sea thus set in motion pre- vented him from leaving his anchorage ; so that it was well toward three o'clock before he dared to venture forth to fish his pounds and eel-pots. And now, at last, with his live-boxes towing astern he was homeward bound. Dawn was breaking and the tree tops awoke with the melody of feathered choristers as Car- roll went on up the road toward the shack. As he opened die door of the shack he paused for an "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS 85 instant on the threshold half amazed, half amused, for there in the big armchair before the table sat Plum, and at his feet curled Tip. The old negro was deep in sleep, his head hanging forward on his chest, his breathing stertorous and fitful. "Well, Plum, you old black scoundrel, what are you a-doin' over here this time o' day?" roared Carroll in his big, good-natured voice, dropping his empty dinner pail on the table at the same instant with a great clatter of tin. The old negro catapulted out of his chair as though a hidden spring had suddenly uncoiled in its seat, his old eyes blinking the sleep-webs out of them, his mouth agape. "Skeer you, old fellow?" Skip commiserated kindly, mistaking the negro's reaction for fright. "No, Marse Skip," Plum replied in a roice that seemed to come wandering down the ages from the sepulcher of Ham, "he didn't skeer ole Plum none. He's jus' woke up t' somethin' all over agin. It's li'l Missy, Marse Skip, li'l Missy's gone, clean gone, jus' like Mis' Brookie go dat night more'n five year ago, come las' Spring." "Gone !" echoed the big fisherman, his tall, erect 86 EVE, JUNIOR form grown rigid with the shock of the old serv- ant's words. "Gone where? When 1 ?" "In de night, some time, Marse Skip. De squall, hit come, an' dat tumble voice from de swamp, hit come, too, an' ole Plum, he was a- feared li'l Missy mought be scairt an' he come to be near her but she was gone, Marse Skip, gone, jus' lak de wind come an' taken her up an' toted her away," Plum wailed, as he pointed through the open doorway of Eve's room to the smooth, empty bed, mute corroboration of his testimony. Carroll went into the deserted room with the slow reverent step of one who enters a sacred place, his dazed mind groping feebly for some tangible reason for his daughter's absence. In the middle of the floor he stopped to survey the room with eyes that neither saw nor understood, for they were filled with a vain, abstract questioning, searching rather for a motive than a clue. At last, with a feeling of intense mental and physi- cal fatigue, he sank down upon the side of her bed with his head in his hands. Plum stood silent and dejected in the doorway while Tip wan- dered back and forth from one man to the other, whining his condolence and grief with a pathetic "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS 87 show of canine understanding. It was thus that the morning sun, creeping over the distant horizon, stole softly in through Eve's half-curtained win- dow and found them ; and with its coming the big fisherman awoke to action. "Plum," he said, getting to his feet with a celer- ity that indicated decision, "I've thought and thought and tried to figure this here thing out some ways, and I ain't got no further than the start, so I'm a-goin' to run out to that there gover'ment ship what Mister McLean's on. It don't 'pear nowise likely that he'd be a-knowin' anything about this here matter, but then agin he mought. I hate to think, an' I reckon I'm a-doin' him wrong, but he just mought." And he strode out of the shack and down to his bateau with the hurried, feverish stride of a man who has an unwelcome suspicion to allay. McLean had just finished dressing when the watch announced that Carroll was on deck wait- ing to see him, and he went up at once to learn what had brought the fisherman to him on this early morning errand. The news that Skip bore was no less a shock to the surveyor than it had been to the father himself, and Carroll, watching for 88 EVE, JUNIOR any corroborative indication of the truth of his unwelcome suspicion, was quickly aware of Mc- Lean's total ignorance and innocence of the affair. The surveyor gave him a direct and detailed ac- count of his visit to the island and of the regret- table incident in which it had so abruptly termi- nated, a matter of which, Carroll, of course, had no previous knowledge. He expressed himself as being totally unable to understand the pres- ence of the book where McLean had so unex- pectedly found it, and assured him that Eve had undoubtedly been as ignorant of its hiding place as either of them. "It was not more than nine o'clock when I left the island last night," said McLean thoughtfully. "Have you any idea about the time she must have gone or how she went by boat or by fording the neck?" "That there's the part I can't figger out a-tall," Carroll replied, knitting his heavy brows. "The boats is all there an' the tide was flood an' full about the time she'd ought to gone, accordin' to Plum. He come over when the squall broke, an' she'd gone a'ready then. She must o' gone in a boat 'cause she couldn't o' forded the neck with "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS 89 such a tide on. But what-the-hell boat was it, man? There ain't ary boat this side the p'int 'cept this here one." Looking up the deck at this moment the sur- veyor saw the first mate emerging from the for- ward companionway, and a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Johnson," he called; and as the mate ap- proached, he asked: "You do not recall passing another boat when you were out on the creek last night, do you?' Johnson stared at him an instant while the red of his face seemed to pale ever so little. "I wasn't out on the creek last night, Sir," he replied in even tones. It was McLean's turn to stare now. He re- garded the mate with a curious, half -quizzical smile. "In that case I suppose the watch was mistaken. I wanted to see you a moment about nine- thirty and Karlson said you had gone away in the yawl boat. It must have been some one else." "S'pose you get a-hold o' this here Karlson and see what he has to say," the fisherman sug- gested bluntly. 90 EVE, JUNIOR McLean, surprised and somewhat embarrassed, assented, but the mate raised a hasty objection. "Karlson's asleep. He goes on watch again at eight bells. No use to bother him now," he inter- posed shortly. Carroll's eyes were ablaze in an instant, his anger aroused by the man's apparent indifference. He turned to McLean and demanded that the watch be questioned at once; to which Johnson offered a further objection. He said that as Cap- tain Cullom was away on leave he was in charge of the vessel and its crew, and that if any ques- tioning was to be done he, himself, would do it. He added, however, that he had been on board all evening, and that neither the yawl boat nor any other of the ship's boats had been out the night before. And when he had done, Carroll, enraged the more by the man's contemptuous, domineer- ing manner, stepped up to him with a menacing look in his eyes. His big fists clenched and un- clenched convulsively. "I got a notion you're a-lyin', Mister Skipper," he drawled with a slow, incisive directness of speech. The mate recoiled visibly then recovered him- "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS 91 self and made as if to attack his accuser, while McLean, surprised at the open, almost unaccount- able spirit of antagonism which the men displayed toward one another, stepped in between them. "Gentlemen, there is no necessity for such feel- ing on the part of either of you. This matter can be straightened out without going to needless ex- tremes. Mr. Johnson, as chief of this party I in- struct you to have Karlson brought here at once." The first officer put his heels together and sa- luted. "I'll bring him myself, Sir," he replied, and turned sharply away to execute the order. The moment Johnson had gone the fisherman nudged McLean roughly. "You'd ought to go 'long with him," he advised shrewdly. "Why, man, he can tell that there feller to say anything he wants him to. He ain't on the square, that skipper ain't." McLean, now more surprised than ever at Car- roll's suspicious attitude, refused to follow the fisherman's suggestion, declaring it an unnecessary and unwarranted precaution which he felt him- self in honor bound to disregard. A few minutes later, Johnson and the watch came up out of the 92 EVE, JUNIOR forecastle companionway. The mate's face was red and dour looking, and he talked in an earnest undertone to the sleepy, blinking sailor who seemed to be nodding acquiescence to all that was told him. Carroll ground his teeth and snarled his angry disapproval. "Look at that, he's a-fixin' him now, dam' him !" he growled, and McLean made no reply. As the two men came down the deck Johnson fell silent, for he seemed to understand that his actions were being appraised. "Karlson," spoke up McLean when they had come abreast of him, "didn't you tell me last night that Mr. Johnson had gone out in the yawl boat*?" The Norwegian's eyes made a hasty shift from McLean's face to the deck at his feet. "Yes, Sir," he replied hesitantly. "Well," urged McLean. "I was mistaken, Sir. The yawl boat did not leave its moorings during my watch, Sir." "Where was it moored?" "At the port boom, near the foot of the board- ing ladder, Sir." "Well, you're mistaken about that, too," Mc : Lean replied sharply. "Around ten o'clock the "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS 93 yawl was either in its davits or away from the ship." "It may have been in its davits, Sir," the sailor agreed, his eyes still on the deck. "Now, then, where was Mr. Johnson when you told me he was out in the yawl?" "I think he must have been in his room, Sir." "I was," Johnson quickly corroborated. McLean laughed shortly. "And now you are both mistaken. I went to your room three times between nine-thirty and ten-fifteen, Mr. Johnson, and you were not there." "Look here," demanded Johnson, with a show of heat, "what's all this quiz about, anyway? My job is to handle this boat, not to answer a bunch of questions like a witness in a courtroom." "Mr. Carroll and I simply want to know whether or not a boat from this vessel was on the creek last night, and if so whether our boat met or saw any other boat," McLean explained patiently. "S'pose'n you-all tell us where you was if you wasn't in your room an' you wasn't out on the crick," Carroll demanded bruskly. "Hell !" snarled the mate with open contempt 94 EVE, JUNIOR for his inquisitor. "Don't you know that there are plenty of places on this ship besides my room ? What do you think this is, that dam' crab-smashin' skiff of yours?' "Well, you said you was in your room, didn't you*?" retorted the fisherman, with shrewd empha- sis on the pronouns. "It's none o' your dam' business where I was," cried Johnson hotly, and, as if he feared to sub- ject himself to further questioning, turned and hastened below. When Carroll would have followed him, Mc- Lean quietly prevented and urged him to refrain from any unwarranted outburst. Meanwhile Karlson, the watch, stood by, impatiently waiting for McLean to dismiss him. "In the future, Karlson, be sure you are right before you make a statement that you may have to substantiate later on." Feeling certain that the man had made his first report of the whereabouts of his superior correctly he had added this final taunt in the hope that it would lead Karlson to justify himself in the truth of the matter. But the man only hesitated an in- stant as if he meant to speak, then turned away "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS 95 with a mumbled "Yes, Sir," and disappeared down the forecastle companionway. "Come have breakfast with me," suggested Mc- Lean, "and then we'll take the cutter and make a thorough search of the creek. If Eve left the island in a boat, as you seem to think, that boat may still be somewhere in Bodkin." Immediately after breakfast, which had been but a formality, for neither of them had a heart to eat, McLean ordered the steam cutter made ready for the trip. A little later, when they had embarked, and the cutter was backing away from the 7m, the piston-connecting rod broke with a snap, and the surveyor, anxious to begin the search, called the launch into service. As the smaller craft was brought alongside the disabled cutter, McLean was the first to board her. On the grated floor at his feet his casual glance included a small, familiar object which he stooped and picked up with a sudden quickening of pulse. It was the little anchor-shaped pin which he had given Eve but the week before. His first impulse was to have a general call to quarters made and follow this with a rigid inquiry into the whereabouts of every member of the crew 96 EVE, JUNIOR and survey party during the previous evening. On second thought, however, he resolved to await the result of the inspection of the creek. He put the pin in his pocket and sat down near the wheel without a word. The quartermaster from the cutter came aboard and began to unscrew the cap of the gasoline tank under the forward deck. "You needn't bother about that," McLean told him, impatient to be off. "She was filled up yes- terday and the boat hasn't been out since." The man had the cap off now, however, and ran his gage down into the tank "just for luck/' as he put it in apology for his action. "Why, there ain't more'n a couple o' gallons in it, Sir," he exclaimed, examining the gage as he withdrew it. "That's dam' funny," was the fisherman's sus- picious ejaculation, as he transferred his big frame from the cutter to a seat alongside of McLean. The latter got up abruptly, and, stepping off on the accommodation ladder, hurried to the deck of the 7m, where he sought out Johnson and con- fronted him with the pin. "SKIP" CARROLL'S SUSPICIONS 97 "Did you ever see that before, Mr. Johnson*?" he demanded. "No," the mate replied quite truthfully. "Well, it belonged to Eve Carroll," McLean continued, "and I just now found it in our launch. Miss Carroll had this pin on last night, for I saw it myself, and now she is missing from home. Johnson, it looks as though somebody on this ves- sel knows more than they're telling." "Meaning me*?" the mate cut in abruptly, his face red and white by turns. "You were out on the creek last night I wasn't." "One thing more," McLean continued, disre- garding the imputation, "when was the tank of that launch filled last?" The mate hesitated and looked away. "I don't remember," he said. "It was filled yesterday at noon, wasn't it 1 ?" "I don't know. It may have been. I can't say." "And you stood right there at the head of that gangway and gave the order to have it filled, didn't you?" "I don't remember giving any such order." "But I do, and there's the man you gave it to. 98 EVE, JUNIOR Williams," McLean called as the sailor passed them, "Williams, you filled the tank of the cap- tain's launch at noon yesterday, didn't you*?" "Yes, Sir." "By whose order?' "Mr. Johnson's, Sir." "That's all. Now then, Johnson, the tank's empty. How did it get empty?" "How in hell do I know? Maybe somebody drank it; I didn't." "Never mind the levity, Johnson. There's something peculiar about the turn that affairs have taken overnight. I can't figure it out, but I'm not through yet." "I wish you luck," sneered the mate, as he turned to go below. CHAPTER VIII COMPLICATIONS McLEAN and the fisherman spent the entire fore- noon eagerly searching every arm and cove of the creek and making inquiries at the few scattered farmhouses and fishing shacks without result. Im- mediately after dinner the surveyor ordered out the yawl and a lifeboat with instructions to drag the waters in the vicinity of the island, leaving Carroll to supervise this work while he made a long and fruitless journey inland along the old swamp road. Johnson, who had taken no part in the search, began to grow restless toward evening. He paced the quarter-deck with ever-increasing impatience and watched with morbid intentness for the return of the corps from the day's work. Shortly after dark McLean was brooding in his room when he was aroused by the creaking of davit blocks and went on deck just in time to 99 loo EVE, JUNIOR catch a glimpse of Johnson through the dusk being lowered oversides in the ship's launch. Looking up quickly the mate surprised the question in the other's eyes and answered it in a gruff, indifferent tone. "Going over to the spring for a drink," he said sullenly. "Water on this junk makes me sick. It's flat" McLean returned to his room just long enough to hear the launch slipping away through the night. Then he went again to the rail, where he watched the gleam of her stern light fade as she rounded Spit Point. Prompted by a vague sus- picion that he did not attempt to define, he con- tinued to stare into the darkness where the boat had disappeared. After a little he sensed, rather than saw, a dark shape moving silently out from 'behind the point. It was the launch, lights out and headed for the "eye of the needle," beyond which lay the river. Casually he strolled amidships. "Get my hydroplane ready and lower her," he told the watch in quiet, matter-of-fact tones, "I may want to take a run around the creek." Standing at the rail he could dimly see the COMPLICATIONS 101 launch slipping out through the "eye," a blur of gray in the dark. "All ready, Sir," called the watch from the foot of the accommodation ladder; and McLean de- scended and entered the little craft. A touch of the switch darkened the running lights; whereat the watch registered a respectful protest. "It's against the law, Sir. Might be there's a Coast Guarder 'round here, Sir," he called after the fleeting craft; for as the clutch engaged the whirling shaft the little vessel was gone like an arrow into the night. Tearing along at full speed, McLean soon sighted the object of his pursuit entering the river. He throttled his own craft down to the speed of the launch, and followed at a safe distance. As Johnson passed the ruins of the old light house, the surveyor could see him trimming his oil run- ning lights, and knew that the mate now felt himself safe from inquisitive eyes. He had counted on this, for he knew that Johnson, trained in the school of the mariner, would take no greater liberties with the law that licensed him than he deemed absolutely essential to his purpose. 1O2 EVE, JUNIOR The night was calm and clear and not a single wave showed a crest of white over the dark ex- panse of water. For this and for the lights on the launch ahead McLean was thankful. Hours later as they were entering the harbor the Coast Guard cutter Pawnee came steaming down the channel sweeping the river with her searchlight, but McLean threw in his switch and headed off at full speed on a diagonal course until he had passed her, then cut out his lights and renewed the pursuit. The harbor was dark and quiet, and while the mate chose the open channel, McLean switched on his lights again and slipped up through the silent, crowed anchorage on a parallel course that brought the two boats nearly abreast. At the end of the anchorage he slowed down, then threw out his clutch and allowed the little craft to drift in the shadow of a big tramp while he watched the launch speed on ahead and glide into a darkened dock near the foot of Broadway. A few minutes later, leaving his hydroplane se- curely moored to the wharf log, McLean followed the ship's officer on a dead run. Emerging from the darkness of a lane which led to Thames Street, COMPLICATIONS 103 he caught sight of Johnson entering a dim, canon- like alley half a block away. When the mate mounted the steps of a house conspicuously better looking than its neighbors, he slipped into a near- by doorway and watched while Johnson repeat- edly rang the bell without response. At length, with a grumbled oath, the mate made his way down the step again and went slowly on up the narrow street, while McLean continued in his wake. At Fleet Street Johnson stopped under a lamp- post, glanced casually up and down the wider thoroughfare, then walked half a block east and entered a shabby-looking furnished-room house with a latchkey. McLean passed the house a few minutes later and awaited further developments in the shadow of a bulk window of the store on the corner. Almost immediately Johnson came out again followed by a young woman, hatless and rather plainly clad in a dress of some dark ma- terial which a long, light, loose-fitting coat almost obscured. They walked slowly toward the cor- ner where McLean stood, the girl talking ex- citedly, the man suavely reassuring her. "I looked for you last night," McLean heard 104 EVE, JUNIOR her saying as they approached and slowly passed him. "You said you'd come. I was worried and didn't know what to do. I was afraid you'd gone. Men generally do in a time like this." "I was tired last night had a headache. I didn't leave the ship," was Johnson's soothing re- ply. "But you musn't worry, little woman. I've told you that I'd marry you in a minute if only " But the rest of his words were lost in distance. McLean, now completely off his guard and more mystified than ever, resolved, nevertheless, to fol- low them a little further, but when, a few min- utes later, they turned into a moving-picture place on Broadway he was forced to admit that he was on the wrong track. Determined to complete his mission in so far as it even vaguely indicated itself, he retraced his steps until he came to the house in the narrow, canon-like street at which Johnson had vainly sought entrance. When his own attempts to have the bell an- swered met with silence, he went next door and finally succeeded in arousing an old negro. "Dat house was pinched last night, boss," was COMPLICATIONS 105 the burden of his answer; and McLean, certain that this trail would lead nowhere, nevertheless inquired into the details and made his way to the police station. Arrived there, however, he gained nothing that would lead to further pursuit of what he concluded was a wild-goose chase. Again he returned, hopeless and dejected, to his boat, yet strangely elated, too, that his unwel- come "hunch" had not borne fruit; for, he argued, it would be better to find Eve's body floating in Bodkin than to have found her where the night's trail had led him. As McLean came alongside of the platform at the foot of the boarding ladder of the Iris a hand reached out of the darkness and laid firm hold on the bow of his boat. It was Skip Carroll. "I been a-watchin' the doin's on this here vessel all night, and a-waitin' for one o' ye t' come back," he said in a low, harsh whisper that was choked with emotion. "What'd you foller him for 1 ?" Carroll warped his bateau alongside the hydro- plane, and with both hands on the gunwale of the little craft fixed his dark eyes on McLean's. "Because I had a 'hunch,' " the latter replied, io6 EVE, JUNIOR meeting his gaze. "I had a 'hunch' that led in his direction, but I guess I was wrong." He then related the events of the night and included an account of the finding of the pin, an item which he had purposely avoided until now because its presence in the launch was so utterly inexplicable. "I tell ye, McLean," Carroll burst out, after an interval of brooding silence, "the more I figger on this here business and the more I 1'arn about it the more sartain I git that that there damned rascal of a mate knows more'n he's ownin'. How'd Eve git clare away without ary boat or raft and with the tide a good fathom over the neck? 'Course, she could swim, but an' what'd she go for? An' how'd that there pin git in the la'nch an' the gas outen the tank 1 ? Why, man, it's plainer'n the nose on your face that that there la'nch figgered in it someways, an' that there mate knowed where the la'nch was an' what she was a-doin' even if he wa'n't in it himself which I reckon dam' well he was. Besides, what's he want to go sneakin' away in the dark for, like he done to-night, 'less'n there's foul weather some'eres?" Finally, Carroll withdrew to fish his nets along COMPLICATIONS 107 the bay shore below Bodkin, and the younger man went to his berth, though not to sleep. As Skip was entering the "eye" he sighted the running lights of a small craft passing in the nar- rows just off the ruins of the old light house at the mouth of the creek. Instinctively, he guessed it to be Johnson. . After a few minutes he was certain of it, for as the launch came in sight of the Iris her lights were darkened and she headed toward Spit Point. Carroll directed his course toward the point also. When he reached it he shut off his engine and lay waiting, well within the shadow of the wooded shore. As he had surmised from what McLean had told him of the mate's departure, Johnson in- tended to effect his return in the same fashion. Bringing the launch in to a position where the point intercepted his line of vision to the Jm, he stopped the craft and put up his lights again. It was while he was thus occupied that the fisherman silently poled his bateau out alongside the launch. Coming thus upon him out of the darkness, the mate was somewhat startled and expressed himself in abusive language. "What the hell do you mean by sneakin' out on io8 EVE, JUNIOR a man that way, you dam' fish pirate?" snarled Johnson. "An' what the hell do you mean by snoopin' in an' out o' this here creek o' nights by the dark o' the moon," Carroll thrust hotly back. "Don't you know a feller's liable to have his license took away for the likes o' that?" "What the devil do you know about it?" "Well, I seened you go out an' I seened you come in, but I ain't after your license, I'm after you, an' by God, I got ye !" And Carroll sprang into the launch, armed only with his two brawny arms and his hard, knuckled fists. The next instant Johnson whipped out an automatic pistol and warned the big fisherman to get back in his boat. But the hand that held the weapon trembled as a cur trembles at the voice of its master, and Carroll laughed his disdain. "Put that there weepon back in your pocket, you onery coward, you !" he commanded in a voice that drawled fearlessly. "Get back in your boat, I say!" shrieked the mate, his tones high-pitched and nervous. Carroll advanced upon him without fear or hesi- tation. The next moment his hand had closed COMPLICATIONS 109 firmly about the gun. In the brief struggle that ensued the weapon was discharged, but the bullet whistled harmlessly across the water while the mate, unnerved by the report, released his hold and retreated toward the stern of the launch. The fisherman laughed. "I ain't a-goin' t' hurt you none," he said con- temptuously, putting the pistol in his pocket; "I reckon you know what I come for and you'd best speak up about it almighty quick, 'cause I might jus' happen to get mad an' lam you one." "I don't know what you're talking about," the mate half whimpered. "Look-a-here, Johnson," began Carroll, plant- ing himself firmly before the other man, "there's good an' there's bad in all of us, an' there's truth an' there's lies, too. Now I ain't never seen you a-fore this mornin' an' I can't size up how much of you's good an' truth an' how much of you's bad an' lies, but I can figger from what I've seen an' heered to-night that a right considerable por- tion of you's them same last articles. You been a-carryin' on some right onlikely didoes for a man that's playin' straight an' considerin' what's hap- pened, it sartain looks as though you-all mought no EVE, JUNIOR 'a' had a hand in it. If you have an' there's a pound o' white meat on you that ain't all bad an' lies, open your mouth an' talk. It's my daughter, man, my girl all in the world that's left to me of kith an' kin an' you can bet your hide an' taller that I ain't a-goin' t' lose her easy not while there's breath in my body an' half a leg under me, I ain't!" "You talk like a fool," sneered Johnson, some measure of his composure recovered. "I haven't got any strings to your daughter. Never even saw her. It's McLean that's after her, not me. Besides, what the devil do I want with her? There's enough women chasing me as it is, let alone me kidnaping 'em, if that's what you mean." Carroll took the captured weapon from his pocket and emptied the clip of cartridges over- board. Then he handed Johnson the useless gun and stepped up on the gunwale to board his bateau. "I'm not done with you yet," he warned as he went. "What you're a-sayin' may be true, but I'm a skinned eel if it sounds right." "You're a skinned eel, all right," snarled John- son. At the same moment he struck the fisherman COMPLICATIONS 1 1 1 a severe, glancing blow behind the ear with the butt of his pistol. Carroll crumpled up, then fell forward in a heap in the bottom of his bateau, his right foot smashing the needle valve of the carburetor as he landed. He lay quite still and motionless, and the mate reached out and gave his boat a shove that sent it shoreward to ground among the tall marsh grass that lined the water's edge. As McLean was getting dressed a little before six there came a knock at his door and the wireless operator entered with a message. "Heard the aerial raising Cain and got up to see what the trouble was," the young man ex- plained hastily. "Naval Academy said he was try- ing to raise us last night. Important. Sailing orders from Washington." McLean read the message : "17. S. C. & G. S. S. Ins, "Assistant McLean^ "Acting Captain Johnson: "Abandon survey Patapsco and tribu- taries further orders. Proceed at once N. 112 EVE, JUNIOR Lat. 35 08', W. Long. 75 30', vicinity Cape Hatteras, pick up U. S. C. & G. S. S. Alert engaged hydrographic survey proposed breakwater. Coal Newport News and re- ceive written verification this order. Expe- dite. "H. O. WHITMAN, ' 'Superintendent." Scarcely taking time to finish dressing, McLean jumped into his hydroplane and sped over to the island, where he found no one but Plum. The old negro was still heartbroken over the loss of his "li'l Missy." "We're ordered to Diamond Shoals," McLean told him, while Plum nodded and stared va- cantly out over the creek, his old eyes misty with unshed tears. "Tell Mr. Carroll that I shall write to him from Newport News, and that he must endeavor to keep in touch with me in regard to Miss Eve. He can get some one around the creek to write a letter for him now and then. And, Plum, if Miss Eve comes back, give her this for me, please." And he gave the old negro the pin which had so strangely come back to him. COMPLICATIONS 113 After all, he suddenly thought with a twinge of pain, had that been her way of returning to him a present she no longer valued*? But surely she would not have thrown it in the ship's launch. And yet An hour later the Iris steamed out through "the eye of the needle" and headed southward for the Craighill Channel to the Bay. CHAPTER IX THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE WHEN McLean had retrieved his book and left the shack in anger, Eve, equally angered yet know- ing not how to justify herself in the surveyor's eyes, had sobbed herself to sleep in the old Chip- pendale chair. An hour later she awoke with a start, vaguely conscious of an intruding presence. The front door stood open and fitful gusts of the rising wind swept in and made the light on the table before her flicker and dance uncertainly. Before she could turn a strong draught had snuffed it out. She sprang to her feet and stood for a panic- stricken instant in the darkness. From the half- closed door of her own room came a faint ray of light. Her eyes sought it hungrily. She sensed a quick, unreasoning fear that urged her toward it. Flinging back her chair to clear the way, Eve made a wild, precipitate dash for the beacon when 114 THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE 115 a hand reached out of the darkness about her and firmly detained her. With a smothered sob she sank on her knees to the floor, for they trembled with the weakness of fright and refused her sup- port. Her dash, however, had carried her into the area upon which the light from her room fell, and raising her eyes fearfully she saw the face of her captor. The sight of the known nerved her. With a quick movement she freed herself from John- son's grasp and sprang to her feet. In the next instant she had put the table between them. Standing at bay, she threatened his advance with the upraised lamp as a weapon of defense. Considering discretion the better part of valor the mate withdrew somewhat into the shadow. "You little red-headed bob-cat, you !" he flared angrily, when he thought himself arrived at a safe distance; "I came over here to help you out of a scrape and this is the thanks I get." "I ain't in no scrape," Eve retorted, lowering the lamp a trifle. "Oh, you ain't, eh 1 ?" sneered Johnson. "I sup- pose you tried to palm it off on me by telling Mc- Lean that I was here that night. But he knows ii6 EVE, JUNIOR how his book got behind that picture. He's just sent a wireless to Washington about it. The gov- ernment won't stand for any of your nonsense. In a day or two you'll be landed in jail and what's more, I'll see that your dad goes along with you." Eve set the lamp down with a crash. "It's all a dam' lie," she cried, stamping her foot in righteous indignation. "You can't prove a word of it. Dad never done nothin' in his life that wasn't just right; and me, I never seen the old book 'til it fell out from behind that picture to-night. I reckon if anybody knows anything about it it's you, you big, brass-buttoned bully !" Johnson advanced toward the table again. "So you did tell him I was here, eh, and you blamed the book business on me," he snarled be- tween clenched teeth. " 'Pears like as though the shoe fits you better'n me," Eve retorted, reaching for the lamp again. "You seem to know a mighty sight about that there book." "What did you tell him? How much?" he demanded uneasily. "I didn't tell him anything. He didn't give me a chance. He just picked the book up and 'It's all a dam' lie," she cried. "You can't prove a word of it " THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE 117 looked at me, and said somethin' about me a-know- in' all about it and then a lump just riz up in my throat and I couldn't say nothin' a-tall, and he ups and walks out in a huff and slams the door behind him/' Eve ended on the verge of tears, for the lump had come back in her throat. Johnson's face cleared somewhat with a smile of relief and satisfaction. If Eve was telling the truth McLean had not wanted him for that, any- way, when he left the wireless room, he concluded. In any event, it would be difficult to connect him with the disappearance of the book unless Eve had actually seen him in the act of placing it be- hind the picture, a possibility which he no longer feared. His previous visit to the island, however, was a clue that he was anxious to eliminate. His mind was quick in grasping the key to a situa- tion which would give him control of the accom- plishment of his three-fold purpose the settling of his score with McLean, which was paramount; the possession of Eve, a condition of secondary importance only because it was the prime agency of the first; and finally, the removal of the con- necting link between himself and his perfidious n8 EVE, JUNIOR actions. It was toward this end that he now began to work with insidious plausibility. "Well, it's all right, girl," he said in a kindly tone that he had quickly assumed for his purpose. "I couldn't believe that you had told on me after I had promised your dad immunity if you said nothing about the other night. But you're in trou- ble now, and I want to help you. No matter how the book got there it looks as though you had something to do with it, and the surveyor believes that you put it there. Now when they arrest you how are you going to prove that you didn't 4 ?" "Do you reckon they'll sure enough arrest me 1 ?" asked Eve, her eyes dilated with sudden fear. "Of course they will," the mate assured her severely. "That book is worth thousands of dol- lars. Your taking it was plain robbery, and steal- ing from the government is a mighty serious of- fense." "But I didn't take it, I tell you," Eve cried passionately; "I never even seen it before." "Perhaps, but how are you going to prove that when they get you in court?" "Court?' the girl echoed vaguely. "Will they do that, too? A judge and lawyers and all?" THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE 119 "Certainly. And then after that they'll very likely send you to Atlanta for five or six years." "Atlanta? Jail, you mean*?" "Yes. The nearest Federal prison. Now lis- ten: you've got to get away from here before they can send somebody over to arrest you, and if you'll take my advice you'll go now and not run the risk of being caught to-morrow morning, maybe. The law acts quickly, you know, and once that message of McLean's reaches the proper authorities at Washington there'll be a warrant issued for your arrest and an officer sent over for you at once. He might even get here to-night yet." Eve stared at him in wide-eyed terror. Then came a thought like a ray of sunlight stealing in upon the midnight of confusion that possessed her mind. "Douglas that is, Mr. McLean wouldn't let 'em arrest me, even if I had taken the old book, and I didn't," she told him with a faint, reassured smile. "Oh, wouldn't he?" Johnson shattered her hopes with a sneer. "Haven't I just told you that he reported the whole affair the moment he I2o EVE, JUNIOR got back aboard his ship*? I was standing right out- side the wireless room and heard every word of it. That's the reason I came over here to you as fast as I could. I'm trying to help you out of this, but, of course, if you'd rather go to jail, why that's your lookout." "But I can't go 'way and leave Dad and old Plum." "Well, you'll have to leave them when they come for you, anyway," the mate told her. He stopped an instant as an idea formed itself to fit his motive. Attacked in a vulnerable quar- ter he was sure that she would surrender to his plan. "Look here, young lady," he continued craft- ily "one case like this in court often begets an- other. They'll probably want me to appear as a witness for the government, and if they do, why then I'll have to tell the"m what brought me here in the first place the under-sized fish your old man's been taking. Now to avoid that the only thing I can do is to put your dad and Plum under arrest at the same time they take you. Other- wise they'd have a case against me for neglect of duty. You're getting in pretty deep, girl, and THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE 121 you're dragging the rest of them in with you. Take my advice and pull out while you can. Now is not a bit too soon." "How can I<? Where will I go? What will I do 1 ?" Eve exclaimed, distraught with fear and con- fused beyond the power to think. At the mention of peril so closely associating itself with those she loved, all the combativeness melted out of her spirit, leaving her limp and un- sustained before the chaos that towered now so imminent in her path and in theirs. To save them she would do anything, make any sacrifice. She sank into the chair she had so fearfully abandoned when the wind blew out the light. Presently, through the confusion of time, place and sound that beset her senses she heard Johnson's voice again. "Get a few things together," she heard him say- ing, "and come with me now before it is too late; and I will take you where they will not find you where you will be just as safe and happy as you've been here in Bodkin. Come, now; in the morning they'll be here perhaps be- fore. Who knows*?" And that insistent "now" moved her to action. 122 EVE, JUNIOR Wearily, as if the weight of passing years, in- stead of hours, had left their burden on her shoul- ders, she got to her feet and made her way to her room. And Johnson, his heavy face flushed, his narrowed eyes filled with the glint of greed to possess her, followed. At the threshold, however, he hesitated an instant too long for the door was closed in his face and he heard the grating of the bolt as it slid into its keeper. Thoroughly aroused now and angry, his first thought was that she had eluded him, but when he was about to throw his weight against the door and demand admittance his crafty judgment coun- seled patience. He would wait and listen. If she attempted to leave by the window he would hear her. And as he listened he smiled, for he knew by the sound of her movements that she was getting her things together. He cautioned Eve to hurry, and a few minutes later the bolt was slipped back and the door opened. "I am ready," she said simply, looking squarely into Johnson's greedy, covetous eyes. And now as they went out and Eve reverently closed the door of the only home she had ever known, she lingered for a moment with her hand THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE 123 upon the knob as in parting with a friend of her childhood. No written message could she leave, no word, no reason for her going, no hint of her destination; for of this she had not even given a thought. It was her sacrifice for them, for their well being, their happiness, their future; for her- self it did not matter. With her hand still lin- gering in affectionate farewell on the knob of the closed door she raised her face in gentle appeal toward the cloud-dark sky while her eyes sought out a single star shining dimly through a rift in the threatening mass of gray. "Keep my Daddy and old Plum, Good Lord, and don't let nobody nor nothin' harm 'em. And and tell 'em good-by for me," Eve whispered to the star. And even as she looked the rift was closed ; the star was gone. At the wharf she silently entered the yawl and took a seat in the stern-sheets with her possessions still firmly clutched under her arm. A little while later they rounded Spit Point. It was here that Eve had her last heartbreaking glimpse of the island with the tall brick chimney of her home rearing its head above the tree tops like some ever watchful sentinel. As the wooded 124 EVE, JUNIOR point intervened she buried her face in her hands and for one brief moment gave way to the heart- ache that throbbed in her bosom and burned in her throat. In another, however, she had recovered some measure of her former composure. The man at the oars must never know her weakness; for instinctively she still regarded him as an enemy before whom nothing short of an armed truce should be maintained. Presently a small log wharf loomed up in shore and Johnson rowed in alongside of it. "Get out here and wait for me," he ordered quietly, "I'm going for a launch." Silently the girl obeyed. "I'll be back in half an hour," the mate called in a low voice as he rowed away. "Wait," Eve cried, as a thought came to her, "where are you a-goin', to the ship?" "Yes. I must change my clothes and get a launch. We can't go where we're going in this thing," he replied impatiently. "Let me go with you," she pleaded. "If I could just see Mr. McLean and he would listen to me I could tell him and he would understand. Oh, I know he would." "What do you want to do, spoil the whole THE IMPOSTOR'S REVENGE 125 thing, now we're started*?" snapped the mate. "McLean's sore, I tell you. If you went aboard there now he'd very likely order your arrest at once." "I don't believe he'd do any such a thing," Eve retorted hotly, her eyes full of tears. "Well, never mind what you believe or don't," Johnson called back as he plied his oars again. "I know what's best for you, so just you wait there until I get back." And he rowed away, as- sured that on his return she would still be there; for on Spit Point she was as isolated from the other side of the creek and her island home as if he had landed her on the opposite shore of the bay. There was no road and the long, narrow penin- sula was covered with dense underbrush and heavily wooded except where the swamps were deep and impassable. Here the cattails and bull- frogs alone could survive. To traverse safely the intervening distance between where Johnson had left her and her home, a matter of ten miles by land, would have occupied the better half of a day. At night it was all but impossible. Eve 126 EVE, JUNIOR sank down upon the top log of the wharf in an attitude of utter resignation. Nearly an hour later the mate returned in the launch from the Iris. He had waited until every one except the watch had retired or was below deck; then, after a whispered word with the watch and a petty bribe for his silence, he had entered the launch and made off to complete the vile work so recently begun. They were just passing through the "eye of the needle" when the storm broke. At another time Johnson would have turned back and waited for calmer weather. But to-night he pressed on. CHAPTER X AN EVENTFUL NIGHT OUT on the seething river the launch from the Iris made heavy weather of it. Pitching and roll- ing, now on the crest of a wind-flattened wave, now in the smothering trough between, the stout little craft raced on into the eye of the storm, wave-washed from stem to stern. Only the heavy canvas spray-hood, which Johnson had clewed on as they left the creek, saved the boat from swamp- ing. As it was, the bilge pump of her engine could scarcely keep her clear of water. Now and then the flywheel picked it up and the friction pulley on the magneto would slip until the engine almost stopped for lack of spark, while the launch lost headway and pounded like a dead thing in the seas that beset her. Huddled up under the spray-hood amidships, Eve sat unmindful of the storm, thinking only of the sorrow that her going would bring to those for 127 128 EVE, JUNIOR whom she went. If only she could have left some word, some reason for her act that they might know and understand instead of thinking that she had simply deserted them when they needed her so much that was the feature of her going that hurt her most. Never for a moment was she con- scious of the sacrifice she made. She wanted noth- ing more than vindication in their eyes but to know that they knew she had done them no injus- tice but to feel that they felt that she loved them now as ever. The constant recurrence of the idea of what they must think of her on the morrow kept her on the verge of tears ; yet never once did she give her feelings sway for the man at the wheel must not suspect her weakness. It was past midnight when they finally entered the calmer waters of the lower harbor. The storm had abated somewhat by now, but the rain still fell in sheets that misted the distances as with fog and made it difficult to steer by marks on land. When they were off the foot of Broadway, how- ever, the rain ceased entirely and Johnson sought out a low-lying, ramshackle pier that was shielded in utter darkness. Here he made a landing, moored the launch securely and helped Eve ashore. AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 129 At the head of the pier he led the way into a dark, narrow, cannon-like street upon which the rears of many towering warehouses abutted. The heavy rain had washed it clean and it occurred to Eve that the myriad round cobbles with which it was paved looked like thousands of pans of new- baked biscuits all set out in rows to cool. The street turned sharply to the left now and entered upon a block of less pretentious build- ings, junk shops and smaller storage houses which gave forth the musty odor of old rope and mildewed sailcloth as they passed. In the next square a further decline was to be observed, for here cheap tenements and sweat shops were inter- spersed with lesser ware and storage houses. The increasing squalor had the effect of still further depressing Eve's low spirits, so that at last she felt as though she must scream and run from sheer melancholy. Finally, Johnson stopped in the middle of a block more squalid and forsaken than any through which they had yet passed and ran his glance along the numbered transoms. "Here we are," he said, speaking almost for the first time since they had left Bodkin. 130 EVE, JUNIOR A negro woman answered the bell and admitted them in silence. The girl entered with a strange new sickening sense of fear and sinking of spirit that she could not define. "Tell Miss Maggie to step here a moment," the mate told the negro woman. Then with an easy familiarity which somehow had the effect of mak- ing Eve more uneasy than ever he went into the front room and sat down, while she, knowing not what else to do, did likewise. In a moment the woman he had asked for en- tered. She was very short and very fat and her small gray eyes were as cold and penetrating as the March wind. Her hair, too, was gray except for the switch that crowned it. This had been done in the original color, no doubt, a peculiar mud-yellow which many bleachings of peroxide had failed to efface. "Well," Miss Maggie ejected the word as though glad to be rid of it. "My little friend here has had some trouble at home," Johnson began, getting to his feet. "I want you to take care of her for a few days, Miss Maggie, until I can find a place for her to go permanently." He stopped as the woman's eyes AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 131 narrowed; then, with his off eye he winked en- lightenment, to which Miss Maggie replied with a barely perceptible nod of her head. "All right!" she agreed, snapping her jaws shut on the end of the word. By this time, Eve, somewhat aroused from the lethargy of indifference that possessed her, turned to Johnson with a frown of protest. "I didn't have any trouble at home," she con- tradicted. And she would have said more, but the mate cut her short. "Never mind that now, Eve. Miss Maggie will look out for you, and meanwhile we'll see what can be done." He pulled out his watch and looked at it regretfully. "Damn it, it's after one o'clock. I've got to be hustling back. See you to-morrow night, Eve, and we'll talk things over. Meanwhile, don't worry Miss Maggie' 11 fix you up all right. Good night." As he turned to go he motioned for the woman to follow him. In the vestibule he paused for a moment's talk with her. "Go easy, Maggie," he whispered; "give her a room on the third floor if you've got one and let 132 EVE, JUNIOR her alone until I come to-morrow night. Just see that she doesn't leave the house, that's all." Two hours later Eve was aroused from her sleepless bed in the bare little room on the third floor by a sudden, unaccountable commotion downstairs. With her heart in her throat she crept to the door, and, not daring to open it, listened at the keyhole. As she waited breathless and fearful there in the darkness the sounds grew louder and took definite form and meaning. First had come the crash of a door burst inward and the tread of many feet in the lower hallway, followed by the deep voice of men demanding something; then heavy footsteps ascending the stairs and a series of knocking as on numerous doors of rooms on the floor below. Mingled with these now came the screams of women and the oaths of men and the sounds of a struggle as though some were fight- ing among themselves. On the floor about her, too, where she had felt herself to be alone, voices awoke and hurried feet ran here and there in bewildering confusion as though their owners sought in vain some avenue of escape from a danger that Eve as yet could only AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 133 sense. Came now, too, the pleadings of women and the appeals of men to be delivered from some evil that she could not even guess. Now some one was coming up the stairs from the second floor. On the floor about her there came a momentary hush, then a scampering of feet, a slamming of doors and a turning of keys in locks; then another hush while the footsteps climbed upward. As they reached the top and entered the hall there came a sharp series of raps on a door, a scream and a curse, and the door was opened. There was a short, vain parley and a man and a woman descended the stairs, the woman crying hysterically, the man sullenly protesting. When this had been repeated several times, Eve heard those relentless footsteps at last approach- ing her own door. Frightened beyond the power to speak she resolved to die rather than open that door. With a little, smothered exclamation of despair she threw herself on the floor and disap- peared under the bed just as the inevitable rat-a- tat-tat came in nerve-racking staccato on the door. For an interval she stopped breathing lest the unknown should hear her. His hand was now upon the knob and he rattled it impatiently. 134 EVE, JUNIOR Again came the rapping of his club she was sure it was a club. "Open in the name of the law!" cried a deep masculine voice outside, and Eve shivered and shuddered and shrank a little further under the bed. In vain was the summons repeated. Came now a great crash. The door bulged in- ward and flew open and two big policemen came tumbling in one over the other. The one on top was on his feet in an instant searching the room with his electric flashlight. "Empty, b'gosh!" he exclaimed as though sin- cerely disappointed. "Not much !" grunted his brother officer as he gathered himself up from the floor. "Look at this!" And he held up Eve's shoes in one hand while the other sought to smooth out the dent which the heel had made in his temple as he struck j it when he fell to the floor. To lie by and see her property thus crudely ex- posed was too much for Eve. "S'pose you just put them shoes down!" she commanded with vehemence. Then, realizing that she had disclosed her hiding place, she began to cry. AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 135 The big fellow with the flashlight was on his knees in an instant and half under the bed in the next. "Ah, there you are, my little one !" he exclaimed good-naturedly, flashing his light in her face. "Now suppose you come out and let us have a look at you." "I won't!" she declared. "Oh, you won't, eh?" he echoed, laughingly, and, without more ado, caught her by what was nearest him which happened to be her stock- inged feet and pulled her out. She rewarded him with a resounding slap in the face the moment she was clear of the bed. The officer took his punishment with a good- humored smile, however, and stood her on her feet before him. She was fully dressed except for her shoes and hat, not having had the heart to re- move her clothes before she lay down. By this time the other policeman had found the single light the room afforded and switched it on. When Eve now saw the uniforms of her captors and realized that they must be policemen come to ar- rest her she was frantic with fear. 136 EVE, JUNIOR "Where's your pardner?" asked the big fellow in his kindly tone. Eve stared at him for a moment as if she had not heard him, and when she replied it was his turn to stare; for she said: "Please, Mr. Policeman, I didn't take the book. I didn't, I didn't, I never even seen it," she re- iterated, crying softly. The officer regarded her for a long, curious mo- ment, then he smiled. "Of course you didn't," he agreed soothingly. "But where's the other fellow your friend? You didn't come here alone, did you?" "No-o, yes I don't know what you mean," was her confused reply. "But honest, Mister, I didn't take the book. Honest injun, I didn't." "Well, we'll have to take you, anyway," the other officer interjected impatiently, still rubbing his bruised temple. "Get your shoes and hat on and let's go. While you was so infernal all dressed up for bedtime you might o' been wearin' them shoes, too," he ended in disgruntled reflec- tion, feeling the lump that was coming where the dent had been a moment before. "Please don't take me, Mister!" Eve appealed AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 137 tearfully to the big fellow with the smiling eyes. "I didn't do anything, honest I didn't! I don't know how the old book got there, but I didn't take it. Please go 'way and let me be !" Before the big fellow had reflected on this speech sufficiently to gather her meaning his brother officer grasped Eve by the wrist and at- tempted to drag her out of the room ; whereupon, Eve, with a quick movement, bent forward and sank her teeth in the offending hand. The wounded man gave a mingled howl of rage and pain and snatched the injured hand away to in- spect the damage. The big fellow's laughing re- mark that it served him right, angered him the more. With a muttered oath he flung out of the room and went down the stairs calling back testily as he went : "Well, bring her down yourself, the dam' little cat! Hope she bites your wooden dome off!" "Come," coaxed the big fellow kindly, "we only want you for a witness. The Cap will let you go as soon as he gets your name and address." "And won't they lock me up and put me in jail for a long, long time 1 ?" the girl pleaded with a 138 EVE, JUNIOR tearful simplicity that completely mystified the officer. "Of course not not if you tell the Captain what he asks you." He stopped and looked at her for an intent, thoughtful moment. "By gum," he added, "I've a good mind to sneak you out the back way and let you go. I don't know how the deuce you got here, but you don't seem to belong to this sort of thing, and you oughtn't to be mixed up in it. But, no, hang it," he con- tinued in regretful afterthought, "I can't do that, either, because Kelly would very likely squeal after the way you bit him. I'm awful sorry, but I guess you'll have to come along." It was Eve's turn to be questioned. Standing near the end of the long row of men, women, girls and policemen lined up before the high railing in the night court at the Southeastern police station, she felt a sudden sense of shame, a sinking of heart, a desire to efface herself that she might not be counted as one of the motley company she had thus unwittingly been thrust amongst. She had heard the uniformed man at the high desk behind the rail repeat his examination again and again AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 139 as he called upon one after another of the pris- oners assembled there; had heard their replies, now shamefaced and submissive, now brazenly defiant, now carelessly indifferent; had seen them hand over the high rail to the desk as collateral for their appearance in the morning money, watches, jewelry anything that was deemed of sufficient value to secure their temporary release; had seen, too, a girl no older than herself re- manded to a cell and led away by the turnkey be- cause she had nothing that would serve as bond. And from that moment the blood had seemed to stop its coursing through her veins, her heart to cease its beating. Her feet felt cold and her head swam dizzily. The salt tears burned her eyes, but would not flow. Her throat ached so that she wondered if she would be able to speak when that gray-haired, stern-visaged inquisitor di- rected his questions toward her. "What is your name?" "I won't tell," Eve replied in a quiet, deter- mined voice. "What 1 ?" the officer exclaimed in surprise. "I won't tell my name," Eve reiterated stub- bornly, lowering her eyes. 140 EVE, JUNIOR "Be careful, young woman," the Captain sternly warned. "There's a place for such as you. Where do you live?" "I ain't a-tellin' that, either," she replied firmly. The man at the desk regarded her with a frown of disapproval and his face flushed angrily. The big, kindly officer who had arrested her was standing nearby. He inclined his head and whis- pered his advice to Eve. "I'd answer what he asks if I were you," he suggested in his friendly way. But the girl only looked up at him and smiled a wan little fright- ened smile and shook her head in silent negation. "I'll give you one more opportunity to answer my questions," the Captain told her severely. "Now: your name and address!" "I won't tell," was her firm, unchanged reply. "Turnkey," called the Captain, red with anger, "take this young woman back and lock her up until she changes her mind." "Pardon me, Sir, if I may offer a word," said the big fellow, stepping up to the rail in Eve's behalf, "but there seems to be some mistake here. We found this girl alone " AN EVENTFUL NIGHT 141 "There ain't any mistake, Cap'n," Officer Kelly interjected, exhibiting above the heads of the others his right hand with the imprint of Eve's teeth in little red and blue horse-shoes on the back of it. "We had to bust the door down to get her, an' this is what she did to me. She's a reg'lar cat, Cap'n." "We'll let the judge decide in the morning whether or not there has been a mistake," said the Captain tartly. "Take her away, turnkey." And he turned to the next prisoner. A few moments later Eve heard the click of the spring lock on the steel door of the cage-like cell into which she had been thrust, and she sank upon the bare board bench with a sob of despair. In- stinctively, her hand sought her throat, as if to relieve the tightness that oppressed it. At once she became conscious of a sense of loss. The lit- tle golden anchor that McLean had given her was gone. CHAPTER XI THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES THE Reverend Malcom Courtney Tilghman sat at breakfast with his sister in their apartment in Mount Vernon Place. Dr. Tilghman was an extremely young man, as years go, being just a little past thirty-four; but in point of experience and ability he had already proved himself worthy of his divinity degree. Nor was there ever pres- ent in his manner anything of pedantry or sanc- tity. He was universally regarded as a plain man who, placing his work in the foreground of his life, was yet bigger than his work. Independently wealthy, he had devoted his life to the spiritual uplift of humanity because he loved this work above all else and in tempera- ment, personality and sheer force of character he was eminently fitted for it. But while many circumstances had combined to make Dr. Tilghman's career the unqualified suc- 142 THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES 143 cess it was, there was yet an element which stood for more than any other single component, and this was Mary Tilghman, his sister. Miss Tilgh- man was two years his senior and all his life she had been to him a mother and a counselor as well as a sister, whom he loved almost to the point of idolization ; for their parents had died when the children were still quite young. "Why, Malcom, it isn't at all like you to read the paper during breakfast," Mary Tilghman re- monstrated in her kindly, smiling way. "Pardon me, Mary T.," he laughed, putting the paper aside, "it isn't there, anyway." "What, dear?" "I was looking for some account of the closing of that Dallas Street house. Captain James, of the Southeastern, promised that it should be closed last night. James is a pretty clean man and I believe that he will keep his word if it is possible." "I suppose you're thinking of Dillon?" "Yes, Mary T., it is Dillon that I'm thinking of. Dillon has likewise promised to break Cap- tain James if he closes this house. It is the usual story, dear, political greed versus public morals. 144 EVE, JUNIOR Dillon owns the house and Dillon controls the district." "And are there no laws for such as he?" "Unfortunately, my dear, Dillon is a maker of law-makers. Practically every man who has gone to the council, the legislature and to Washington from Dillon's district owes to Dillon a large meas- ure of the support that sent him there. It is a well-known saying down in that section that no man, however popular, could be elected to public office in the face of Dillon's opposition. James' captaincy will not be worth the price of his uni- form if this man's influence is permitted to have its way with him." "Then Captain James will lose his head, as the saying is, for closing the Dallas Street house?" Dr. Tilghman smiled, as in pleasant anticipa- tion. "I think not, Mary T. ; in a quiet way I've been on Dillon's trail for nearly three years and now I believe I've got him. If I have, the Dallas Street house isn't a widow's mite compared to the reforms that will be instituted in the Southeast- ern." Perhaps the doctor would have gone into de- THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES 145 tails, but the maid at this moment announced that Captain James wanted him on the 'phone. The little courtroom of the Southeastern police station was crowded with spectators when the ma- tron led Eve Carroll to a seat on the bench re- served for witnesses. The other girl, whom she had seen remanded to a cell the night before because she had no bond to insure her appearance in the morning, was already there, tearful and shamefaced ; but of the long line of witnesses who had been released, only a few were present, the majority having forfeited their collateral rather than face a public court in daylight. In the prisoners' dock sat Miss Maggie, cool and defiant. The judge had already begun his examination of her when Dr. Tilghman arrived. Close upon the heels of the minister came an- other man, a tall, lean, lantern-jawed man of middle age and rather distinguished appearance. With a purpose in mind, he proceeded directly to its accomplishment. Crossing the floor of the courtroom while officers and deputies stood aside with deferential nods, he passed in front of the judge's desk without so much as an upward glance 146 EVE, JUNIOR toward that dignitary, and stopped beside the prisoners' dock where, regardless of the fact that he interrupted the court in the midst of a ques- tion to the prisoner, he engaged Miss Maggie in a whispered conversation. Meanwhile, Dr. Tilghman had taken a seat on the witnesses' bench beside Eve and from this point of vantage he noted the proceedings with rising indignation. At last the tall man, with what appeared to be a series of final admonitions, left the woman to the consideration of the court and sought a seat on the bench among the witnesses. The examination now proceeded without further interruption and was presently concluded with little result, for the woman's replies were as noncommittal as though the whole dialogue had been rehearsed but an hour before. One after another the few witnesses were called, no attempt being made to substantiate the testimony of one by that of another. And when Dr. Tilghman saw how the case was being con- ducted he refused to testify. He had purposely employed no counsel to aid in the prosecution because he meant to give the police court a fair THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES 147 opportunity to convict of its own accord. If it failed to do so there was always recourse to a higher court. And now as he sat .there and saw the intangible power of that tall, thin politician, Dillon, pervading the court, obscuring the issues and blocking the natural course of law and order, he began to feel glad that events were being so shaped that recourse to the criminal courts would be necessary to secure the just punishment of these wrongdoers. Only one policeman had been called to testify, although all who had participated in the raid were present. The judge was about to close the case and announced his intention of so doing when Dr. Tilghman got to his feet. "Your Honor, I respectfully beg tp call your attention to this witness who has not yet been examined," he said, indicating Eve; and with a frown of displeasure the judge bade Eve take the stand. Eve, led by the minister, mounted to the little platform and held up a trembling right hand while the bailiff swore her. "What is your name 1 ?" came the judge's first 148 EVE, JUNIOR question at the conclusion of this fearful cere- mony. "I I can't tell you," she replied, her voice trembling with fear and excitement. The judge frowned darkly and the vision of the horrid little cage in which she had spent the night swam before her eyes. "You will answer the questions of this court, young woman, or surfer the consequences," the judge declared with heat. "I won't answer that question," Eve retorted, her indignation for the moment outweighing her fear. "The time of this court cannot be wasted in this manner," said the judge severely, the remark being general in its intent, but directed in par- ticular to Dr. Tilghman. Dillon crossed one leg over the other and spoke in his sharp, incisive way. "Waive that question, judge!" "Well, er a, very well; as you say. Now then, young woman, where do you live"?" Eve's lips trembled for a moment as if she were going to cry, then of a sudden her eyes THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES 149 blazed angrily and she gave a little impatient stamp of her foot. "The man with the buttons asked me the same thing last night. I didn't tell then and I won't tell now." "This is contempt of court, young woman," the judge blazed, when Dillon cut him short. "Call her 'Jane Doe,' judge, address 'Canton,' " he suggested with an amused smile. "My name ain't Jane Doe and I don't live in Canton, wherever that might be," Eve declared indignantly, turning toward Dillon a flushed, angry face that made her doubly beautiful. "Proceed with your examination, judge," said Dillon, grinning good-naturedly, for he was sure that this witness would divulge nothing contrary to his interests. "Now, then," continued the judge at the bid- ding of his boss, "how came you to be at this house?" "Why, I just came, that's all." "But how did you happen to be at this par- ticular house 1 ?" "I object to that question, judge," snapped Dillon, on his feet in an instant. "Would you 150 EVE, JUNIOR imply that this house is different from any other 1 ? It sounds very much that way, unless I am mis- taken." "Oh, not at all, not at all, Mr. Dillon! Per- haps I had better reframe the question if it is so ambiguous," the judge hastened to retract. "Suppose you tell us what brought you to this house, young woman." "Well, part o' the way I walked." The judge rapped severely for order. "I refuse to examine this witness any further," he declared, red with anger. Dr. Tilghman arose and addressed the court. "Pardon me, your Honor, but may I have the privilege of asking the witness a few questions'?" "You may," the court agreed testily. "If you can make her say anything intelligible, help your- self." "Thank you," the minister replied and turned to the girl. "Would you mind telling us why you came to this house 4 ?" Eve studied the minister for a long, intent mo- ment and somehow she decided that here, at last, was a friend. Still, she was wary. "I didn't THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES 151 have any other place to go," was her noncom- mittal answer. "I don't quite understand what you mean by that," said Dr. Tilghman, as Dillon laughed at the girl's reply. "Surely you have a home and parents or a guardian or friends to take care of you." "No not any more," Eve replied, as a choking sob arose in her throat. "Is that the reason you went to the Dallas Street house*?" "No, I can't tell you why I went I just did that's all." "Who took you?' Eve shot the minister a startled, fearing glance. "Nobody," she replied quietly. "You had a home sometime, somewhere was it here in the city*?" "No!" "May I ask where it was?" "Yes, you may ask, but I won't tell you." "When did you come to the Dallas Street house?" "Last night." "Were you ever there before?" 152 EVE, JUNIOR "Never." Eve was on the verge of tears now. "Or at any place like it?" "No no never," she half sobbed. Then she turned pleadingly to the judge. "Please, oh, please, Sir, let me go 'way from this here place ! I ain't done anything, honest I ain't. If it's that old book you want me for, Mister, I never even seen it. The big policeman over there he knows I told him about it." "What's this about a book?" said the judge, addressing the big officer whom Eve had indi- cated. "I don't just know, your Honor," the police- man replied, coming forward. "When we first placed the little girl under arrest she said some- thing about a book that she had not taken it but, of course, we didn't know anything about it, and I told her that we only wanted her for a witness in this case." "Very well! Now then," turning toward Dr. Tilghman again, "have you finished with the wit- ness?" "I think so, yes!" "In that event the case is concluded. The THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES 153 charge against the defendant is dismissed," the judge promptly announced. Miss Maggie as promptly heaved her ponder- ous frame out of the chair in the prisoner's docket and waddled smilingly toward Dillon who had arisen to meet her. The majority of the spectators dispersed quickly and in a few moments the courtroom was empty except for the principals and a couple of newspaper men. Eve, not knowing what was now expected of her, remained, anxious and un- certain, on the witness stand until Dr. Tilghman went over to her, and, taking her hand in his own in a friendly, reassuring way, led her down. "I give you all fair warning," he said, turning to include the court, Dillon and Miss Maggie as he spoke, "that this case is only begun. I shall present the matter before the Grand Jury and ask that an indictment be returned against you, Miss Rebstock and you as well, Mr. Dillon." The politician looked at the minister and laughed, a jeering, contemptuous laugh that was meant to advertise his fearlessness. "Go as far as you like, Doctor. Glad you have the time to spare. I am honored, I assure you," 154 EVE, JUNIOR he retorted, and, making a sarcastic bow, turned for a further word with Maggie Rebstock. A moment later, without paying heed to any one, he put on his hat and left, walking with that long, easy, swinging stride that seemed silently to de- mand the right of way. The woman followed him almost immediately. The witnesses, with the exception of Eve and the minister, had already gone. The newspaper men, eager for the girl's apparently unusual story, came up to them now and began to direct a rapid fire of questions toward Eve, to all of which she would make no definite replies. One of the re- porters had a camera with which he attempted to take her picture, but the moment she understood what he was about she turned her back. When he persisted she became furious, and with a quick upward dash of her hand knocked the instrument out of his grasp so that it fell to the floor and the lens was broken. Then Eve burst into tears and sank weakly upon the witness bench and cried out the anguish that had filled her heart to overflow- ing since she left the island. "Call a taxi, please," said Dr. Tilghman, "I am going to take this little girl to my sister." CHAPTER XII MOUNT VERNON PLACE AFTER leaving the courtroom Eve sank into the cushions of the taxicab with a sense of utter ex- haustion of mind and body. Dr. Tilghman spoke to her now and then, but she discouraged him with monosyllabic replies. At last, as the machine drew up at a curb, the minister turned toward her with a friendly smile. "Here we are," he said, extending his hand to help her alight. On the pavement Eve stood for a moment look- ing up at the towering brown-stone apartment in front of which they had stopped while Dr. Tilgh- man turned to pay the driver. Her eyes went to the roof first, as if to measure its height, then trav- eled slowly downward, taking in every detail as she lowered them. At the basement level she stopped, stared for a horrified instant, then turned and dashed at top speed down the street ; for there 155 156 EVE, JUNIOR again, on the basement windows, were the dreaded bars of steel. The next instant Tilghman was in full pursuit. And though Eve ran with the easy grace and swift- ness of a startled deer he laughingly caught her at the end of the block. "Please, please, Mister, don't lock me up again!" she pleaded, more breathless with fright than with running. "My dear child," he reassured her in his quiet, friendly way, "I am not going to lock you up anywhere. I only want to take you to my sister, that she may look after you until your people may be found." "I'm not a-goin' to tell you-all where to find 'em, and, anyway, you wouldn't a-caught me if I hadn't a-had my arms full. Besides, there's bars on the winders, Mister," Eve objected. "I seen 'em just now. That's why I run." "Oh, you mean the basement windows," laughed the minister. "Why, so there are, but there are no bars on our windows. Come, now, we'll go right on back and I'm sure that you will not be sorry for coming." At the elevator, however, Eve took fright again MOUNT VERNON PLACE 157 and would have made another dash for freedom had not the minister been timely in restraining her. For here, indeed, was a semblance of the dreaded cage of steel in which she had spent the night. She gave a little cry of alarm when it began to ascend, and had to be assured that this was a per- fectly proper thing for an elevator to do. At the sixth floor they went forth from the lift and presently entered an apartment, the like of which Eve had never seen before. She stared in dumb, almost worshipful, admiration at the hun- dreds of books that filled the dull mahogany cases with which the walls were lined. She had never dreamed that there were so many books and found herself wondering wistfully what they were all about. Perhaps some day she would know ! This thought, so big, so startling, obsessed her mind for the moment to the exclusion of all else. "Mary T.! Oh, Mary T.!" called the min- ister, leaving Eve to stand in the middle of the floor, her eyes devouring this treasure house of books, while he went from room to room in search of his sister. "Ah, there you are, dear !" she heard him saying. "Come, I have brought you a vis- itor." 158 EVE, JUNIOR And when Eve saw the tall, smiling, motherly looking woman with whom Dr. Tilghman re- turned, she sensed a strange, new ease of mind and felt suddenly very much at home. She extended her hand to meet Miss Tilghman's friendly, cor- dial greeting. Then, realizing that the minister was at a loss to make her known to his sister she said quite simply as their hands met, "My name is Eve." Dr. Tilghman laughed heartily and took her other hand in his own. "Eve! Ah, indeed!" he exclaimed; and his words were not irreverent. "No wonder, Mary T. ! Behold; the original woman !" Mary Tilghman took Eve's little suit box and coat and made her comfortable in a big wicker rocker full of pillows while the minister laugh- ingly related his experience in bringing her home and described with good-natured appreciation the details of the scandalous scene enacted in the street below. Whereupon, his sister gently took him to task. "The poor dear!" she commiserated, putting a comforting arm about Eve's shoulders. "Why MOUNT VERNON PLACE 159 didn't you 'phone at once for me, Malcom, when you decided to bring Eve home 1 ?" "I suppose I wanted to have the fun of doing it myself," he replied boyishly. "Were you very much afraid of him 1 ?" Miss Tilghman asked of Eve. "Oh, no, not of him, I reckon," said Eve, smil- ing up at them. "It was the ride and them awful bars and that there little little iron cage we come up in. But, of course, I'm not skeered a bit, now." "Have you lived in the city long?" asked Miss Tilghman, noting the girl's colloquialisms. "It seems like years and years," Eve replied wistfully, "but I only came last night." At this juncture, the minister, fearing that fur- ther questioning would but hurt and embarrass Eve, called his sister into his study and explained to her in a few words as much of the girl's story as he understood. "But, Malcom," Mary Tilghman protested at the conclusion of his account, "what shall we do? Should we not make an immediate effort to find her people and return her to them? Or do you think it better to wait until she herself indicates some desire to return?" 160 EVE, JUNIOR "I think we had better wait, dear. She seems to have an all-sufficing reason for keeping her identity secret and she resents every effort that is made to disclose it. Meanwhile, you will not ob- ject to having her here, will you, Mary T.?" "Not in the least, Malcom, but 'idle hands,* you know, dear; she should have something to do, something to occupy her attention for at least a little while each day." "I dare say you will find her very willing to do anything you may suggest. She does not look like a girl who has been used to sitting by with folded hands while some one waited on her. Per- haps her own initiative will save you this neces- sity." "I was thinking of Moya, Malcom. She is leaving at the end of the week to be married; but, of course, one cannot ask one's guest to be- come one's maid." "Hardly," laughed her brother. "Now you run along and entertain our little visitor while I prepare my address for the mission folk to-night." Among the books and articles of brass on the library table beside which Eve was sitting was a little leather-framed inscription in raised letters MOUNT VERNON PLACE 161 of gold : God is Love. She picked it up and was studying it intently when Miss Tilghman re- turned. She turned it first to the left, then to the right and finally upside down, while a frown of perplexity drew her brows together to make a lit- tle vertical line just above her nose. Still hold- ing it upside down, she turned to the minister's sister. "What is it?" she asked. Miss Tilghman regarded her attentively for a puzzled moment. "It is an excerpt from the fourth chapter of the First Epistle of John," she replied with a peculiar little half smile. "Really," Eve exclaimed, turning the mysteri- ous thing over and over. "It don't look half as big as it sounds, does it*?" Mary Tilghman laughed, then sobered quickly with the tight feeling that had leaped to her throat. She reached down and took both of Eve's hands in her own and looked into the wistful gray-green eyes that were raised suddenly to hers. "How old are you, Eve?" she asked in her low, sympathetic voice. "I reckon I'll be seventeen come the middle 162 EVE, JUNIOR of October," Eve replied after a moment of thought. "Wouldn't you like to be able to read, dear?" Mary suggested. And her smile was so sweet and considerate and her tone so full of quiet sympa- thy that the girl could feel no sense of shame, no flush in her cheeks. Instead, her eyes beamed with delight and enthusiasm as she earnestly replied, "Indeed, yes. Oh, I'd give anything just to be able to read and know what was in one of them there books. And, oh ! there's such a heap of 'em, too. I didn't believe I hadn't any notion that there was so many," she concluded, glancing about the book-lined room, her eyes aglow with sincere appreciation. "But these are just a few, Eve, selected from the many. The number of books in the world must be as countless as the stars." "I wish I could understand 'em half as well," was Eve's wistful comment. "Malcom," said Mary feelingly, when the mis- sion matter had been adjusted, "do you know that that poor child can't even read? And she's nearly seventeen." MOUNT VERNON PLACE 163 "No ! Is it possible !" he exclaimed. "It is a fact. I wish I knew how long she is to be with us. Really, dear, we must begin at once to educate her. Imagine a girl of seventeen in this age, Malcom, being entirely illiterate. I hardly know how to begin, but I suppose I must." "Well, Mary T., you might try the alphabet for a beginning," laughed the doctor. "That's the way most of us got our start." Mary Tilghman returned to her little visitor and took her to a small, cool, cozy-looking bed- room that looked out on Mount Vernon Place. Eve stood for a wondering, wide-eyed moment in the doorway of this little white enameled sanctu- ary while her sweeping glances included its every appointment. Only the rug and the walls were in color, a delightfully restful shade of pale blue, the blue of the zenith of the noon-day sky. "This is your room, Eve," Miss Tilghman told her. "Arrange your things and make yourself comfortable and at home." Eve smiled her thanks and appreciation and went at once to the window. "O-o-oh," she ex- claimed, drawing a long breath, "we're almost up in the sky, aren't we? It's pretty down there, 164 EVE, JUNIOR but goodness, it's a long ways down. I see, now, why they h'ist you up here in a cage, 'cause you'd never get up if they didn't. Jiminy, but ain't that a tall chimley down at the corner'?" "A chimney? Where 1 ?" asked Mary, coming to the window. "Why, that there," Eve replied, pointing with her finger. "Gracious, child, that isn't a chimney, that's our Washington Monument. How our fore- fathers would be shocked to hear it called a chim- ney; and it the first Washington memorial in the country, too! Mercy!" "And look! You can see the river from here, and the boats all the way to the bay. I can almost imagine I see " Eve stopped abruptly and turned a flushed, guilty face toward her hostess. "What can you see, dear?" "Nothin'," Eve replied, resolutely putting her back to the window. "I must go and see about luncheon, Eve. Now make yourself at home, dear. It is our wish that you should." MOUNT VERNON PLACE 165 "Oh, I'm all right, but I must help you with the the is it lunch, you mean?' "Yes, but never you mind about helping, thanks. The cook and Moya will attend to that." "Jiminy!" Eve exclaimed in surprise. "A cook and a girl, too, just for you-all? What on earth will J do?" "You'll be our guest, dear," laughed Miss Tilghman as she went away. Eve quietly closed the door and went back to the window. She wanted to look away off there again, but she wanted to be alone when she looked. The day was very clear and bright after the storm and the light northeast wind had driven every suggestion of haze out of the atmosphere. Even the distant Eastern Shore was dimly visible. Yes, she had been right at first, for there it was now the long, low-lying goose neck of Bodkin that jutted far out on the shining water where the river swept into the bay. And on the very end of the point she knew that the little patch of gray, now so blurred and indistinct, was the ruins of the old lighthouse. She turned away as her eyes filled and set about unpacking the meager effects of her suit box. 166 EVE, JUNIOR Almost the first thing she came upon was her sketching pad and the sight of it cheered her. She laid it out upon the bureau top with several pen- cils, but the rest of the things she placed in the top drawer or hung in the little cupboard opening off the other side of the room. In a few minutes she had arranged her things and, taking her pad and pencils, returned to the window. Here, how- ever, she resolutely kept her eyes below the level of the roofs on the opposite side of the street while she began a sketch of the formal peaked square below. She was thus engaged when, a half hour later, the maid came to her door to an- nounce that luncheon was ready. Thinking that the girl was about to enter, Eve hastily tore off the sheet she was working on and dropped it out the open window because she was dissatisfied with the sketch and did not want any one to see it. CHAPTER XIII EVE, JUNIOR ENTERING the dining room with a tremulous feeling of self consciousness, Eve took the seat to which Mary Tilghman welcomed her. Never be- fore had she sat at a table so brilliant with silver and sparkling glassware, and so white with china and embroidered linen. The whole effect, while pleasing to her senses, confused her. And the sev- eral spoons and knives and the extra salad fork were disconcerting mysteries that she dared not even contemplate. Heretofore she had consid- ered one of each article sufficient for the purpose of a meal, however simple or sumptuous the meal might be. The saying of grace, too, was a formal- ity new to her. And as the minister inclined his head and began to speak she marveled not a little at this strange ceremony. What a peculiar, complicated world she had come into, out of the elemental simplicity of yes- 167 168 EVE, JUNIOR terday ! Vaguely she wondered if she would ever learn its intricate complexities and understand the formal rules by which its inhabitants seemed to move and have their being. She noticed too, with a sense of alarm, that the minister and his sister had both made changes in their costumes, while she still wore her denim gown. How ridiculous she must appear to them, she felt, as the hot blood mounted in her cheeks ! Her hands trembled so that she set her knife and fork down and pressed them together in her lap as if to steady them. She was conscious of being much too warm and knew that, despite the cool- ness of the day, little beads of moisture were gathering on her forehead. "Why, howd'y, friends," boomed a big, good- natured masculine voice in the doorway at Eve's back, as she sat at the Tilghmans' luncheon. "My good luck, as usual. Just in time to join you, and I'm as hungry as the proverbial wolf." As the doctor and his sister had momentarily arisen to greet their guest, Eve, following their example, stood up, too, looking with a curious in- terest at the handsome, middle-aged visitor. He was a short man and somewhat stout, with close- EVE, JUNIOR 169 cropped black hair, touched here and there with gray, bristling thickly over a well-shaped head. As Eve regarded him, a twinkle of humor seemed to light the shadows of his deep brown eyes. "Eve," said Miss Tilghman, "this is Mr. Addi- son Piel, one of our most famous artists, of whom we are justly proud." "Pardon me, Lady T., God save the mark!" Mr. Piel deprecated, bowing graciously over the hand of his new acquaintance. "Don't listen to her, Eve, I pray thee 't would seem a sacrilege to say 'Miss Eve,' not knowing the rest of it. What might your full name be, since one so young can scarce be 'Eve' herself?" "Just Eve; that's all," the girl replied with quiet dignity. "Ah; then you are the one, the only, the original Eve, the mother of all creation*?" Piel suggested with a smile. "No; I am not anybody's mother," said Eve, flushing a little. "Ah, yes, I see; not the original, but a daugh- ter; a junior Eve of the Eve, senior. So! It is a gracious privilege to know you, Eve, junior." Eve smiled and resumed her seat. 170 EVE, JUNIOR "My mother's name was Alice," she told him quietly; "I didn't s'pose there was so many Eves." The artist laughed. "Every mother's daughter of 'em is an Eve, my dear. It's born in the flesh and bred in the bone. And a million years cannot atone for passing the apples. How's that for impromptu stuff, Reverend Doctor?' "Well, to say the least, your brevity indicates your good judgment," the minister replied with a tolerant, amiable smile. "Oh, not at all; merely that my muse vamoosed in the opening stanza. Which being the case, I shall now retire upon my laurels to the festive board. Paints and pigments, tennis and tomfool- ery were invented for the satiety of the esthetic man, but a square meal touches the heart," quoth Piel, occupying his place opposite Eve with evi- dent satisfaction. "Had a funny little experience coming up the street just now," he resumed as he settled him- self in his chair. "I was moseying along with my head down wondering where in Christendom I was going to get a model for my new picture 'The Birth of Spring,' I shall call it, depicting a EVE, JUNIOR 171 young girl clad in all the festive raiment of her virgin beauty arising, with the first snow-white anemonies, from the bosom of old Mother Earth in the depths of a shadowy forest when, as I was saying, a sheet of paper came sailing down a sunbeam from aloft, somewhere, and struck me in the face. I grabbed it and shuddered de- spite the genial warmth that old Sol was handing down with promiscuous impartiality, for lo! and behold ! it was art flung in the face of art, a rapid, impressionistic pencil sketch of our dear old square made by some one from a vantage point above the street level. And whoever made it is not merely an artist in the common and accepted terms as laid down and expounded by the late lamented N. Webster, LL.D., but an artist in tem- perament and spirit, as well. He has caught the psychology of art, the heart and soul of the thing, as the eye of the camera catches the scene that is flashed before it." He reached in a pocket of his coat and drew forth the folded sketch which Eve had tossed from the window. Her eyes grew big with alarm while little sparks of excitement danced in them. A 172 EVE, JUNIOR flame of confusion made her cheeks glow dully red. "Here it is," Piel continued, as he unfolded the drawing. "I want you all to look at it and tell me if I am mistaken. It is such a sketch as Whistler would have made, strong in its salient features and subdued in the mass of detail. Close your eyes a moment, Doctor, then open them be- fore it for the briefest instant and tell me what you see," said the artist, about to hold the draw- ing up before the minister. Eve's eyes narrowed. Like a cat, she crouched perceptibly, calculating the distance between her and the offending sketch. Then with a movement as quick as the spring of a panther, she half leaned, half reached across the round- topped table and snatched the paper from Piel's unsuspecting hand. Before any one could intercept her she had torn the crumpled sketch to bits and dropped the pieces into her empty coffee cup. "Eve !" exclaimed Miss Tilghman, horrified by the unmitigated rudeness of the girl's act. "I don't care," Eve protested on the verge of tears. "It was an onery, good-for-nothin'-lookin' EVE, JUNIOR 173 drawin', anyway, and I didn't want that anybody should see it." The others stared at her for an incomprehen- sive moment and she added with sincere regret, "I'm sorry I had to be so nasty mean about it, though." "Did you make that sketch 1 ?" asked the won- dering Piel, the first to recover himself. "Of course !" Eve replied with the faintest sug- gestion of petulance in her tone. "I wouldn't a-taken what wasn't mine that way." "Where did you study?" asked the artist. "Study !" Eve echoed dubiously. "I reckon I never did. I've always been a-drawin' things, ever since I can remember." "It's a wonderful talent you have," said Piel with something of reverence in his tone. "All the study in the world with the masters at your elbow couldn't give you that. I'm sorry you de- stroyed the sketch. I meant to keep it. There was something inspiring in every stroke of the pencil." "I'll make you another one after lunch," Eve hastened to offer in contrition "a better one. I 174 EVE, JUNIOR was ashamed of that one. That's why I tore it up." "Heavens ! Eve, let's have at what's left with might and main, if that's the case," the artist laughed, making a feint as if to pounce forthwith upon his plate. "What shall I draw 4 ?" Eve asked when the or- deal of luncheon was over and they had retired to the library. The doctor and his sister suggested that she re- peat the sketch of the square. But Piel objected. "I've seen that and I know that you can draw. What I want now is something with the touch of the close, personal element in it your conception of something that you have a decided and unmis- takable feeling for. Do you see what I mean*?" "Do you mean something that makes me think of something else? Something that I can feel, sort of, even better than I can see?" Piel nodded. It was not exactly what he meant it was more. He would let her develop the idea in her own way. Eve had been furtively admiring Miss Tilgh- man for some time. She studied her now with a new, direct interest as she sat with her clear, regu- EVE, JUNIOR 175 lar profile in silhouette against the brilliant, sun- lit background of the open-window group. A book lay closed and idle in her lap, as if she had been reading. Her attitude betokened thought. All unconscious of the fact, she made a very pleas- ing and artistic picture. Eve saw this at once, but seeing, saw more and her eyes kindled and her cheeks glowed with the desire to portray what she saw. Her fingers fairly burned for the feel of the pencil and the touch of the pad under her hand. It was as natural for her to draw at such moments as to breathe. "You won't mind if I make a leetle sketch of you, ma'am, just as you set there, will you 4 ?" she asked Miss Tilghman. "No, not at all," laughed Mary, "but why me?' "I'll tell you when I get done," Eve replied abstractedly, already engaged with the rapid strokes of her pencil. Piel pulled a chair up beside her and sat down, watching intently the progress of the sketch. Never once, however, during the hour its making consumed did he venture a comment or suggestion. The fact was, that Piel, himself, was absorbed in 176 EVE, JUNIOR the elemental process of a technique that knew no school, that conformed to no hard and fast rules and formulae. Eve, as an artist, worked with unusual con- centration toward a single objective. Were there a thousand details in her picture and no self-evi- dent theme for the background to sustain, a single glance would yet suffice to indicate the subject of the sketch ; for it was something that her pencil unfailingly traced into her work with a fidelity of purpose that could not be mistaken. And so it was with the result that she now handed Piel. When the minister and his sister came around in back of them to see the finished sketch they were amazed with what they saw. First of all, it was a portrait, for Mary Tilghman was the subject. But there was something more than that, a deeper, half-hidden significance that one began to feel after a little study of the picture. It was not merely Mary Tilghman, but Eve's conception of her. It was the idea that Mary Tilghman con- noted in the back of Eve's mind. "I wanted to draw you," she explained pres- ently, as she turned to Miss Tilghman, "because you looked like I've always imagined my mother EVE, JUNIOR 177 might have looked. She died when I was just a baby and I don't recollect her a-tall, but I've al- ways had my own idea of what she 'peared like, and when I seen you a-settin' there, you just kind o' seemed to fit in about right." And that was the answer to the unspoken ques- tion in their eyes. It was the soul of the picture. Mary Tilghman bent down and impulsively kissed her while little veils of mist gathered be- fore her eyes. The doctor took the sketch and studied it intently. "I suppose you'll want this yourself, Eve," he half suggested. "Not if you do," she replied generously, noting the unspoken desire in his tone; "I've still got my picture, anyway. I can draw a thousand others from it." "But, Eve," protested Piel, "you drew this one for me, didn't you*?" "Well, you saw me draw it, and I reckon that was all you wanted, anyway," laughed Eve. "Be- sides, it's his sister, you know, so if the parson wants it, why he'd ought to have it." "So then, you think that the parson is the only one that is interested in his sister, eh*?" Piel sug- gested mischievously. 178 EVE, JUNIOR Doctor Tilghman laughed, but Mary colored and looked uncomfortable when the artist's eyes met hers. "Are you?" Eve asked with innocent direct- ness. "I am," Piel replied with a blunt fervor that was unusual in him. "Now see here, you children," Mary Tilghman commanded with an assumption of senior superior- ity, "dispose of the picture without further per- sonalities. If you can't agree upon it I shall claim it myself. I think I shall do so, anyway, for since it is my picture, who has a better right to it 1 ?" To which the others unanimously agreed, and Miss Tilghman became the possessor of the sketch. "Oh, by the way, you didn't sign it, Eve," said Piel, noting the absence of her signature. Eve colored confusedly and looked from one to another, but half understanding what he meant. "Never mind," Mary interjected to save the girl from further mortification, "you can sign it later. I'm going to see if I have a frame that will do for it." "Eve," said the doctor when the artist had EVE, JUNIOR 179 gone, "Mr. Piel is much interested in your talent for drawing. He says that your ability in that respect is very marked and unusual and he wants to know if you will take an hour or two each day at his studio. I would advise you to accept his offer and begin at once. He is considered a great artist and he will prove an able teacher." Eve's eyes widened with delight, then clouded in afterthought. "I'd just love to, but I I can't. You see, I haven't got any money, and I reckon it must cost an awful lot," she explained. "It will not cost a penny, Eve," the minister told her, laughing away her fear. "Piel says that you will be a worthy protegee. He is very anx- ious to have you start to-morrow, if possible. Mary can arrange your lessons here so that they will not conflict with your studio work and a little later on we must see about a school, if you decide to stay in the city." Eve looked up at Dr. Tilghman, bewildered by the swift march of events and the bountiful kindness that was being heaped upon her. Tears leaped to her eyes and her voice trembled as she spoke. 180 EVE, JUNIOR "You're all so good to me," she said brokenly, "and I wonder why 4 ? 'Pears like to me I ain't ever done anything to deserve all this here kind- ness you're a-doin' for me, and I don't reckon I'll ever be able to pay you back; but, anyhow, you won't be sorry for it. "But you've just got to let me do somethin' for you-all to work around your place here, maybe. I heered you a-sayin', ma'am, that your maid was a-leavin'. Well, I'm used to doin' housework and I'd just be too glad if you'd let me 'tend to what she's a-doin' when she's gone, 'cause I couldn't think o' stayin' on here just a-loafin', like, when there's a-plenty I can do. And Mr. Piel, I can do something for him, too, maybe. I heered him a-sayin' he'd had such a hard time to get somebody to to draw from and maybe I'd do for that or don't you reckon I would*?" she asked as the minister began to smile. "Don't ask him, Eve I'm afraid you would," was his ambiguous reply. "Then I certainly will," said Eve decisively. CHAPTER XIV VALUE FOR VALUE EVE'S eyes widened with joy and amazement as she entered Piel's long, sunlit, picture-hung studio ; for it was, indeed, an art gallery, not alone festooned with what Piel was pleased to call "home-baked," as he always termed his own pro- ductions, but boasting a Millet, a Corot and a tiny Rembrandt of exquisite coloring. The works of numerous modern artists, too, were well repre- sented; and at one end of the room was a life- sized portrait of the elder Piel by Sargent. Eve stood in the middle of the floor and turned slowly in a circle while her dancing eyes included every inch of the four walls. Her feet danced, too, as she turned. She fairly brimmed over with happiness and wonderment. She clapped her hands in ecstasy and looked at Piel with open, al- most worshipful admiration. 181 182 EVE, JUNIOR "It's it's like a picture book," she cried breathlessly. "Did you make all of 'em?" "Oh, no!" the artist replied, laughing. "Only the poorest of the lot, Eve !" "There ain't any poorest ones," she quickly de- nied. "They're all fine, big, wonderful like things I've dreamed about." "Some of them are," he agreed, with a certain reverence. Then he added regretfully, "You'll get to know the difference, by and by." "Look a-here, Mr. Piel," she began, in her usual abrupt, straightforward manner, "you-all people are a-doin' a lot o' things for me and I can't see where I stand to ever get quits with you. It just looks like to me I'm a-takin' everything and a-giv- in' nothin' back. 'Course I haven't got anything much to give only just myself, that's all. But there's things I'm a-goin' to do for you-all or else I'm a-goin' to stop takin'. Now for these here les- sons how about that 'Spring' picture have you got a a what's-you-call-it, yet?" "You mean a model?" asked Piel, somewhat surprised. "No, I have not been able to find one. You see, Eve, a work like that requires something more than the average model is able to give VALUE FOR VALUE 183 inspiration. She must typify the very meaning of Spring in the painter's mind. She must be young and girlish and sweet and genuinely innocent and clean of spirit. She must have a heart and a soul that are the very essence of the Springtime of her young womanhood. She must be wholesome and good." Piel was growing reverently enthusiastic. Al- ready, with the model of his dreams, he could see the picture growing, expanding, throbbing with life and vitality. Conceived of the genius of in- spiration, it would inspire others. Eve turned away with quick resolution and faced the artist. "I'm not half those things you say you need for your model," she said quietly, "but maybe I would do. Will you try me?' Piel, startled from his reverie, turned upon her sharply. "You !" he exclaimed with a frown. "In pay for the lessons, I mean," Eve faltered. Piel's face flushed. Of a sudden he felt very uncomfortable. How could he tell her what the role would require? "You don't mean that," he tried to dissuade 184 EVE, JUNIOR her, as one puts aside the impossible request of an eager child. "I do mean it," Eve asserted with emphasis; then her face clouded in afterthought. "Won't I do?" she asked fearfully. The artist's eyes devoured her for a long mo- ment. The childlike beauty of her pure, clean- cut features, the gently swelling curves of her in- nocent young bosom, the long, sweeping lines of grace in waist and hip and thigh ; her slim, round ankles and capable feet, neither large nor small, fitting foundations for a perfect body; but, most of all, that patrician air of wholesomeness that pervaded her from head to foot and attracted like a magnet. "Do !" cried Piel, intoxicated with the contemplation of her innate loveliness. "Yes, you'd do for a Raphael or an Angelo. I would not dare to desecrate your beauty with my poor brush." "Then if I will do, I'm your model," said Eve with decision. "It's the only way I can ever pay " "It cannot be. Such a thing would be the basest sacrilege. Your lessons will be a pleasure and my time is my own, so we'll say no more about VALUE FOR VALUE 185 it. Some day when you have become a great art- ist, if you still feel indebted to me, it will be time enough to pay. Meanwhile, forget it." But Eve would not so easily be put aside in her purpose. "Is there some reason you haven't told me about that keeps me from bein' your model?" she per- sisted. "Yes." "What?" "The way you would have to be clothed or, rather, unclothed," Piel hesitated. "How?" "Like that," replied the artist, pointing to a painting of the kneeling Magdalene. Eve studied the picture intently while a look of horror crept into her eyes. Her cheeks blazed scarlet ; her ears reddened painfully and her throat swelled until she felt that it would burst. Her knees trembled and grew weak beneath her. She sat down abruptly to keep from reeling, her eyes still held by the vision of the naked Magdalene. Try as she might she could not force herself to look at Piel; and the artist, feeling all that she felt, turned away with pity in his heart. i86 EVE, JUNIOR The long silence grew irksome. Eve sat speech- less and unmoved. Piel threw open a window and raised a blind. Then, at last, having recovered himself somewhat, he went over to Eve and stood beside her and laid a fatherly hand in reverence upon her copperish, gold-crowned head. "Eve, my child," he said tenderly, "can't you see now that it cannot be 1 ?" For a moment she did not speak; and when she did, her eyes were still riveted on the painting of the Magdalene. "Did some some other girl kneel like that*?" she wavered faintly. "Yes. A picture that portrays such life and emotion as that must have been painted from a living model," said Piel. "Was she a a good girl?" she asked him more faintly still. "There is no reason why she should not have been," Piel declared quickly. "Just because she posed as the subject required, it does not of neces- sity follow that there was anything wrong with her morals. In the eyes of an artist there is no such thing as nakedness. Such a picture is an alle- gory, a great moral made graphic that the eye VALUE FOR VALUE 187 may see it and the mind may grasp its meaning; and the model who posed for it rendered a great service to art and to humanity, for the lesson is striking." "I reckon I see now what this here picture means," said Eve slowly, still looking at the Mag- dalene. "At first it was only a a woman with- out any clothes on and it made me feel kind o' ashamed to look at her; but now I see that it ain't the woman, it's her soul stripped bare and naked so that all the world can see her badness and she's ashamed and sorry and she's askin' God to give her a better body for her naked soul to live in. Ain't that it?" "Yes. And that is what was in the mind of the artist when he painted from his living model, and the model, to have been an inspiration to him, should have had the same thoughts in her mind when she posed for him." "This posin', then, has a whole lot to do with what the picture is a-goin' to look like when it's done, don't it? If this girl had those kind o' thoughts, she mustn't have been bad, anyway, do you reckon so?" ""Except for the unfortunate influences that an i88 EVE, JUNIOR artist's model is sometimes subjected to, there is no more reason to suppose that a girl engaged in that work is less likely to be good and clean and womanly than if she were teaching a country school," Piel declared positively. Eve thoughtfully considered this. "Mr. Piel," she said, after a moment of silence, "if I was one o' these here models and you knew me and knew I would sort of of do for your picture and I come in here and offered to pose, would you 'think any less o' me or kind o' look down on me or anything like that*?" "Certainly not!" came the prompt reply. "I'd honor you for being woman enough to measure up to my exacting ideas of what the model for this picture must be." "And how about other folks people who saw your picture when it was done what would they think?" Piel pondered a moment. "I don't know," he replied thoughtfully, "ex- cept that if they were right-thinking people they would think as I think and as every true artist would think." VALUE FOR VALUE 189 "Then I'll do it!" Eve exclaimed decisively without an instant's hesitation. "Do what?" "Pose for your 'Spring' picture in pay for my lessons." "The sacrifice is too great. It is unwarranted. It is a sacrilege, I tell you. It cannot be, Eve. I will not permit you," Piel objected earnestly. "Then you shan't teach me, either," Eve re- torted, rising as if to go. "Be reasonable, Eve !" Piel implored; "your les- sons do not cost me anything, and they are going to be a source of great pleasure to me. I shall de- rive as much benefit as you will. Besides, even if I consented to your posing what would the doc- tor and Miss Tilghman say*?" "I have already told them that I was a-goin' to ask you if I'd do," Eve smiled. "And what did they say?" was Piel's eager re- joinder. "The doctor said he was afraid I would." "Would what?" more eagerly. "Would do," Eve replied. "Phew !" Piel whistled and began to pace rap- idly up and down with his eyes on the floor. 190 EVE, JUNIOR Eve watched him for an interval and became impatient. "Well," she suggested, "what about it?' Piel stopped and stared at her. "What about it," he exclaimed, incredulous that the girl could be so calm and earnest. He studied her steady gray-green eyes that made him think of a certain priceless jade ring that he meant to give Mary Tilghman, that is (he corrected the thought), if she would accept it, and suddenly his face softened. "I'll tell you what we'll do," he added, smiling, "we'll put it up to Miss Mary and the doctor, and if they agree well, it's a go. But if they don't," he warned, "if they just don't, you're to take the lessons, anyway, and pay when you can." "All right," agreed Eve, "if that's fair for you, it's sure enough fair for me." And so it came about that Eve was to give Piel an hour each day until the painting was fin- ished. Piel had said that in the eyes of art there was no such thing as nakedness, that the nude figure was but an allegory and her own artistic instincts VALUE FOR VALUE 191 had been quick to grasp his meaning; so that now, on the threshold of an adventure that she dreaded more than death, Eve's task never for the briefest instant occurred to her again as unwomanly or im- modest. And so it was that still in this frame of mind, she at last made her faltering way from the little dressing room to the raised dais in the studio where with trembling fingers she unclasped the fastening of the pale silk gown that covered her. CHAPTER XV THE GIRL IN THE SHADOW TIME passed quickly now for Eve. Her days were full of strange new things in this new world into which she had been thrust so unprepared. Mary Tilghman spent two or three hours of each morning teaching her how to read and write, and, at the studio where her afternoons were largely occupied, she proved an apt pupil. Her dreaded hour at the studio, too, became less irksome as the days went by, for Piel was ever preoccupied and impersonal, seeming to see her only through the eyes of the artist. And always when the period was over and Piel religiously refrained from keeping her longer than the prescribed hour the artist became again her friend and teacher, kindly considerate, unob- strusively professional. And under his quietly firm guidance and instruction, Eve began to show even greater promise than Piel had anticipated of his pupil. 192 THE GIRL IN THE SHADOW 193 At her new home, too, she was much occu- pied, for with the leaving of the maid, Moya, Eve insisted upon assuming her duties and did so in spite of all objection to the contrary. Soon afterward, to show how little of her time this work required, she laughingly remarked that Moya had been a foolish girl to leave a job so easy for the more rigorous duties of married life. Her evenings, too, were spent in profitable ways, being given to reading or to the practise of writing or to mission work and prayer meeting, for Dr. Tilghman had several additional charges which he looked after, the most important one being "The Anchorage," at the foot of Broadway, a sea- man's mission and home. And here Eve often accompanied him to help carry the tracts and other literature which he dis- tributed among his flock. At times Mary went in Eve's place while Eve remained at home to wrestle with some particularly unconquerable problem which the day's lesson had brought her. Usually, however, Mary was expected in attend- ance at a literary club which she had organized among the women of her brother's church. It was on one of these nights when Eve had 194 EVE, JUNIOR stayed at home that Skip Carroll, up from Bod- kin with a live-box full of fish, wandered into "The Anchorage" and listened attentively to the service from the vantage point of a seat which he unobtrusively occupied on the last bench. Later, as Skip filed out with the others at the conclu- sion of the benediction, a girl, hatless and clad in a long, light coat, stared at him for an interval while her rather pretty, pale face grew paler and her eyes widened with recognition. She was standing under the arc light at the corner, but at sight of him she withdrew into the shadow of a nearby awning. After that, night after night, when there was meeting at "The Anchorage," the girl in the long, light coat would stand in the shadow of the awn- ing and wait until the service had begun, as if watching for some one to enter. And then she would cross Thames Street to the concrete bulk- head where she would pace back and forth, star- ing out over the dark harbor until the doxology was sung; when she would return to her post at the awning. Once when Eve and the minister passed quite close to her on their way to the car the young woman scrutinized Eve as if vainly en- THE GIRL IN THE SHADOW 195 deavoring to recall her. At another time she fol- lowed them to the car, but turned away with a doubtful shake of her head. The next meeting night she waited in her cus- tomary place until the mission folk were bowed in prayer, then she tip- toed into "The Anchorage" and slipped unnoticed to a bench where she could see Eve sitting in the front row; and as quietly made her way out again as Dr. Tilghman pro- nounced the benediction. Again, Eve and the minister passed within a few feet of where she stood, but the young woman only turned and looked after them, then went over and paced up and down the bulkhead until a policeman, grow- ing suspicious of her actions, asked her to leave the waterfront. And so the months passed. Summer ripened into early Autumn and garnished the leaves of all the green things with its magic touch. And into this enchanted, colorful world of the great out- doors the Tilghmans, the artist and Eve wan- dered far and wide on what they laughingly called "days off." Usually, they all went merrily along together, but sometimes Piel and Mary Tilghman would somehow, by the artist's clever intriguing, 196 EVE, JUNIOR become paired off and wander away from Eve and the doctor. Yet again, it would have been evi- dent to a close observer that it was the minister who had managed the coup and strolled casu- ally off with Eve. However it came about that they got thus separated in pairs with always the same partners, it nevertheless occurred with un- failing regularity a regularity which might have made Eve thoughtful had she not been innocently able to ascribe it to Piel's strong attachment for Miss Tilghman. But though no suspicion of the doctor's grow- ing fondness for her had entered Eve's mind, others were not so blind to the turn affairs were taking. Among the members of the Ladies' Guild in Dr. Tilghman's church was a clique that looked upon their young, unmarried minister as a highly desirable and eligible catch which some one of them would, sooner or later, be fortunate enough to hook and land. So far, however, the quarry had indicated no desire to be bagged, until Eve had so suddenly appeared on the scene. It began to look as though this little interloper, this nameless minx from nowhere, had, by some mischance of fate, dropped like a bolt from a clear THE GIRL IN THE SHADOW 197 sky right into the middle of their visionary man- ger; and even if she was not as yet "hogging the oats" being considered somewhat young and in- experienced she was in a position of vantage. The real shock came, however, when it was learned that this Eve creature had developed a voice and had been proposed as a member of the choir. The clique, to a woman, stood against it; but somehow, when they rose to the first response one Sunday morning, there was Eve's bright, glis- tening head and sweetly serious face rising with the others above the curtained rail about the choir. Among the extremely old and extremely young women members of the congregation who, being consequently ineligible, were not jealous, and among the male element of all ages, Eve made friends. Her quaint speech and oddly gracious manners were ever a source of delight and en- chantment to unprejudiced minds. People who met her frankly found her so whole-hearted and sincere that they began to like her unconsciously, for her own love of humanity was infectious. By the middle of November Piel's "Birth of Spring" was nearing completion and Eve no longer had to give her hour each day, for the 198 EVE, JUNIOR artist required her to pose only when some subtle detail of coloring or play of light and shadow made it imperative. From the day the canvas was begun Piel had jealously guarded it from all eyes save Eve's, working always behind locked doors and placing the unfinished treasure at the close of each day in a little fire- and thief-proof vault which he had had installed some time be- fore, so that no one except the Tilghmans even guessed the secret of the hours that Eve spent at the studio. Early in the fall Piel had begun to give her instructions in painting, both in oil and in water colors, and with this, as with her pen and pencil work, she surprised him by her progress; so that by late November he was beginning to realize his own limitations to teach her more for in her constant practise she was literally teaching her- self. Piel began to hint at further study in New York or abroad, but Mary Tilghman, thinking of the girl's mental and spiritual development, as well, refused to consider the idea. And Piel, knowing that she was right, did not seek to press the suggestion further. THE GIRL IN THE SHADOW 199 McLean had written to Skip Carroll from New- port News where the Iris stopped for coal and verifying orders. Getting no reply, he wrote again from Hatteras, and this time put his own name and address on the envelope. In a month,, having gone the rounds of several rural post- offices, the letter came back to him much the worse for wear and marked "unknown." Mc- Lean then tried to send a telegram, but when he described the destination of the proposed message the telegraph company refused to accept it for de- livery in any other manner than through the near- est postoffice. McLean then appealed to Washington for a leave of absence and was refused, owing to the press of work. Nor did the stormy season off Hatteras bring him the longed-for reprieve, for both the Iris and the Alert received orders to "ex- pedite the surveys to an early conclusion," which meant a day or two of hazardous work each week while they rode out a furious southeaster during the interim. Johnson had left the Iris at Newport News to go as second officer of a collier outbound from Norfolk for the Mediterranean. Later the ship 200 EVE, JUNIOR was reported torpedoed and only a few of her crew had been rescued. The second officer's name had inadvertently appeared in both lists; so that there was grave doubt as to his survival. About the first of November McLean wrote another letter and along with it a personal appeal to the destined postoffice, but without result; the letter was returned as before. The reason for this is evident from the fact that the local postoffice was nearly five miles from the island. Skip Car- roll, illiterate, had never written or received a letter in his life. Consequently, he was not in- terested in the postoffice and had never been there. And the postmaster, a new-comer in the vicinity and keeper of the general store, had never heard of Skip Carroll. As for Plum, in his grief and senile old age, when his master had come rowing home that day with his broken engine and his bleeding head, he had forgotten all about McLean's hurried visit and parting. It was not until months afterward that, coming upon the pin which the surveyor had given him for Eve, he remembered and told Car- roll what McLean had said. And then Skip went at once to the postoffice and asked about mail; THE GIRL IN THE SHADOW 201 but that was long after McLean's last letter had been returned and the postmaster had forgotten the incident. McLean, spending many idle, endless day in fruitless conjecture and misery of mind while the Iris heaved and pitched and reeled drunkenly at anchor off the storm-tossed Cape, could think of no relief except to quit his job and go ashore the first calm day. But just when he had decided upon this course, the long-hoped-for respite came ; for when a week later the Iris put into Port Royal with the survivors of a derelict schooner McLean received orders to report to Washington at the expiration of a ten days' leave. He made all haste to the city on the Patapsco where he en- gaged a launch and went directly to Bodkin. There he found Skip just in from his nets. They met each other with the same eager, impulsive question, but both were doomed to disappoint- ment. McLean spent the night on the island. But having no heart for the enjoyment of a vacation and dreading to endure the thoughts which idle- ness would cultivate, he went at once to Washing- ton and resumed his duties, where he remained un- 2O2 EVE, JUNIOR til the close of February. He had been unwill- ingly forced to the same conclusion that Carroll entertained: that Eve was either dead or fallen the victim of some unfathomable mischance. CHAPTER XVI THE "BIRTH OF SPRING" TOWARD the end of January, acting upon the sug- gestion of Mary Tilghman and with the sanction and approval of Eve, Piel decided to enter his painting at the Institute exhibit in New York. He had purposely omitted his signature from the canvas in order that Eve, as the model, might not be traced through him. And now he proposed to enter the painting in a world-famous exhibition as an anonymous work and forego any possibility of being acclaimed its creator in the event of its winning the distinction which Mary Tilghman prophesied for it. Eve, seeing the sac- rifice this omission entailed, begged Piel to put his name on it and reap the honor and fame she was sure it would bring him; but he steadfastly refused and had the canvas entered through an artist friend in Philadelphia to avoid any possi- bility of discovery. After it had been installed 203 204 EVE, JUNIOR and the exhibition opened, however, he went to New York and spent much time at the Institute, not so much to hear the outspoken appreciation of the public and the press, but to be near his treasure and to guard it as a miser guards his gold. From the day the exhibition opened the "Birth of Spring" attracted an attention and comment that aroused the genial envy of every other ex- hibitor. As the picture became better known, how- ever, its fame began to spread throughout the land. And people came from far and near to see it. Among those who made the pilgrimage were several members of Dr. Tilghman's con- gregation. They returned silent and confused, studying Eve with a newly awakened interest the next Sunday morning. Could it be? was it pos- sible"? they wondered. But with an anonymous painting their imaginations drew upon limitless bounds for the model and so they were by no means sure. Their eyes and their minds dwelt upon Eve throughout the morning service and again that evening, but all went away doubtful and unbelieving. Still, they thought, it was a strange coincidence this wonderful likeness to the minister's ward. THE "BIRTH OF SPRING" 205 Quite early one morning, a few minutes after the Institute had opened for the day, Piel stood before his picture, deep in meditation, when he was aroused by the somewhat hurried entrance of a visitor. Turning, he saw a tall, well-built, bronzed young man who walked with a long, quick stride and glanced inquiringly about him as he entered. In a moment his eyes seemed to have found and focused upon what they sought, as he stopped in front of Piel's picture. So apparently intent had he been upon his quest that he took no note of the artist's presence. Piel, interested by the young man's manner and concentration, watched him carefully and was surprised with what mingled emotion the visitor viewed his work. Presently the stranger glanced at Piel as if he had seen him for the first time. "This painting is anonymous," he said, as if merely expressing a thought aloud. "I wonder if the artist will disclose his identity 1 ?" "I doubt it," Piel replied, smiling. The young man studied the picture for an in- terval; then turned to Piel again. "Why?" he asked. 206 EVE, JUNIOR "Well, he might have personal reasons for pre- ferring to remain unknown." "That's just the point," the visitor rejoined with heat. "No sane man would leave his name off of a work like this unless he had some mighty pressing reason for not putting it on." "Perhaps he had," Piel agreed. "That is evident. Why, man this picture is the talk of the country. It's wonderful." "Do you like it?" "Like it," the visitor echoed, as if amazed at the question. "Yes, I like it, if you can put it that way; but it is too big to be encompassed by such a diminutive expression." "Just what about it strikes you most forcibly?" Piel suggested, determined to fathom the depth of the other's unusual interest. "Two things," the young man replied gravely. "The first, that it is a magnificent work of art, though I don't know enough about such things to half appreciate it. The other, the most impor- tant thing the feature that brought me here is that it looks so remarkably like a girl I used to know." "Ah!" Piel breathed quickly. "Where?" THE "BIRTH OF SPRING" 207 "Down in Maryland." "When?" "Less than a year ago. She disappeared one night. We've never heard of her since." The young man hesitated, swallowed hard and fixed his eyes on the face of the girl "Spring." He brushed his hand across his forehead as if to remove a veil of illusion. Was he dreaming? He turned in sudden bewilderment and looked at Piel. As if to be sure of the artist's presence, he ad- dressed him vaguely. "We thought she was dead," he said. Piel started and scrutinized the visitor care- fully. Was this a ruse to identify the painter and his model? Was he suspected as the author and shadowed for his secret? "There is something sinister, even criminal, per- haps, about this coincidence if it is a coinci- dence," the young man went on with rising heat. "The whole thing is unbelievable, incomprehen- sible. I cannot understand it, and yet it is so plainly she that I can scarcely doubt it but I do," he added in afterthought. "It is too utterly impossible. I suppose nearly every one has a dou- ble somewhere. Don't you think so?" 208 EVE, JUNIOR "I don't know," the artist replied. "When did you say your acquaintance disappeared 4 ?" It was the visitor who now evinced suspicion, but after a moment of hesitation he replied. Piel became gravely thoughtful. What was the con- nection of circumstances in this case*? Was it a mere coincidence of likeness, even an illusion, per- haps, in the mind of the stranger? Or was this a tangible clue to Eve's identity? Of a sudden he found himself strangely reluctant to pursue the subject to a conclusion. It was the visitor, however, who determined this phase of the question. Watch in hand he glanced at the time for the briefest instant. "Phew!" he whistled his surprise. "Just five minutes to catch my train." And the next moment he had dashed out of the gallery and was hurrying down the long marble corridor to the street while Piel, taken by surprise in the midst of his meditation, stood quite still and watched him merge into the passing throngs. CHAPTER XVII BROOKIE MARCH came, and with it the first faint breath of Spring. Meanwhile, Doctor Tilghman's atten- tions had grown more and more obvious to every one except Eve herself. Through jealous eyes the clique naturally saw the drift of the current first, openly snubbing her on every possible occa- sion. But Eve wasted little thought or conjec- ture upon the reason of their antagonism. Her days were too well filled with worth-while things to spend much time in morbid apprehension. One evening toward the middle of March while the doctor and Eve were motoring to "The Anchorage" the climax came. Dr. Tilghman was at the wheel, silent and pre- occupied. Eve, snuggled up in the seat beside him, happy and oblivious of the culminating tumult that beset his heart, spoke delightedly of a letter she had received from Piel a few days be- 209 2io EVE, JUNIOR fore in which he had said that it was generally conceded that the "Birth of Spring" would take first honors at the Institute exhibit. In the event it did, he had written, he wanted her permission to enter it at the Salon of the Academy of Arts and Sciences in Paris. And in reply she had told him that he was not only to send it to Paris but to enter it under his own signature. Upon this point she had insisted, though both Mary and her brother had frowned dubiously when the letter was written. But Eve had been firm in maintain- ing her stand and neither of the Tilghmans had offered decided objections. It may have been a premonition of the involved situation in which this act would result that prompted Dr. Tilghman to speak sooner than he had perhaps intended. They were nearing their destination when, after a long, meditative silence during which his attention seemed fixed upon the course of the machine, the minister abruptly in- terrupted Eve with the unprefaced burden of his heart. "I love you, Eve," he said simply, yet with a hungry, passionate note in his voice that a more BROOKIE 211 sophisticated listener would not have failed to understand. "I love you, too, Dr. Malcom," Eve replied as simply, and snuggled closer, adding with her eyes agleam, "I reckon I must have liked you right away that first day at the station house. And nobody could help but love Miss Mary T. You're just the best people in the world, both of you." The minister brought the car to a stop beside the curb in front of "The Anchorage" and turned toward his fair companion. His hand sought hers and trembled a little as it found it. Eve looked up at him, her eyes smiling, her face expectant. In that moment Dr. Tilghman knew that his cause was lost, that Eve, all unsuspecting, had mis- understood the portent of his words; but he went bravely on. "It is a different kind of love that I mean, Eve," he told her with gentle gravity, "the love that is said to come 'once to every man.' It has not come to you yet. I felt that before I spoke; I know it now. It was too much even to hope for. But I thought that some time it might that later on should you feel some measure of a love like that for me, my waiting would be a thousand times re- 212 EVE, JUNIOR paid, only I was foolishly impatient. I did not want to wait." Eve studied him soberly during an interval of thought, measuring the meaning of what he said with scrupulous care. When she felt that she had fathomed it the revelation left her deeply moved, even startled. But there was no least taint of conventional hypocrisy in her primitive nature; and she brought the matter clearly to an unmis- takable issue. "You mean that some day you would want me to marry you?" she asked quite simply. No blush tinged her cheeks with a deeper pink than health and the winds of March had given them. There was no fluttering droop of her eye- lids nor did she shrink becomingly away from him. Instead, her hand tightened loyally about his and her eyes were steady beacons of honesty and truth. "Yes!" he replied eagerly, far more confused than she was in her sweet, unsophisticated sim- plicity. Eve earnestly considered. "Doctor Malcom," she said thoughtfully, "if I come to feel that way about you some day, I'll BROOKIE 213 tell you; honest I will. But mind you," she warned, "if I do, the church folks won't like it." "The church folks have nothing to do with it," Dr. Tilghman warmly denied. "If you ever come to love me as I love you and I earnestly pray God you will there shall be no one to consider but ourselves and Mary T." "But, Dr. Malcom, you know what folks will say," Eve insisted seriously, "and I reckon they'll be right because, after all, I ain't nothing I mean I am nothing but but just what some of the Guild ladies said. I heard 'em say it." "Heard them say what*?" demanded the min- ister, wrathfully indignant that any of his con- gregation should have indulged in a criticism of his ward. "That I was 'a nameless minx from nowhere' a little what's-you-call-it, antelope? or some- thing interloper, that was it, whatever that is. But, anyway, I 'reckon they're right," said Eve. And forthwith Dr. Tilghman made a mental note to include in his next Sunday morning's ser- mon a comprehensive discourse upon the charity of thought, word and deed toward the "stranger that is within thy gates." 214 EVE, JUNIOR "Never mind what others say in a deplorable spirit of ill will and envy," he counseled. "Only try to find it in your heart to return my love some day, Eve, just as you are unchanged, unspoiled, uncontaminated by contact with a pharisaical super-civilization that does its worst to distort us morally and mentally and makes us hypocrites to our better selves and before God. . . . Come, now; I dare say we are late." With a quiet, almost reverent solicitude, Dr. Tilghman assisted her from the machine and to- gether they entered the mission room of "The Anchorage." The service was unusually protracted that even- ing. Nearly half an hour before the benediction was pronounced the girl in the long, light coat came slowly down Broadway. She moved with a lassitude that seemed to indicate some premature infirmity or as if the tiny, cloaked bundle she hugged so tightly to her breast was a burden that sorely taxed her strength. At the corner she sought the old familiar refuge of the awning's shadow, leaning weakly against a post for momentary support; for it was the first time in weeks that she had walked so far and BROOKIE 215 the burden in her arms had grown with every weary step of the way until at last it seemed that she could bear it no longer. And then she sank upon the friendly doorstep. The mission folk were singing the doxology. Faintly came the benediction: "The peace of God be with you all," she heard; and hearing, wondered, as she had never ceased to wonder since that first night so long ago when she had slipped into the mission unnoticed, if the peace of God would ever return unto her passion-shriveled soul and make her whole again. And now as he and Eve came out when the last of the mission folks had gone, the woman, feeling herself to be near a presence almost di- vine, struggled weakly to her feet and shrank a little further into the shadow of the doorway. Eve entered the car, taking the wheel seat, but as the doctor was about to follow her he remem- bered a package he had left in the chancel and returned to "The Anchorage" to get it. Summoning every particle of energy which the weeks of suffering and the culminating ordeal had left her, the woman made a violent, headlong dash 216 EVE, JUNIOR for the side of the car where Eve sat awaiting the return of the minister. The girl, startled by the stranger's mad ap- proach, shrank back against the cushions while her wondering eyes and senses strove to compre- hend the situation. For an instant she saw the woman's face in the full, white glare of a nearby arc light and a gleam of sudden recognition flashed into her own. "Brookie !" cried Eve, putting out her hands in impulsive greeting. And into Eve's outstretched hands Brookie Car- roll laid her precious little bundle. Instinctively the startled girl took it to her breast. "Take him, Eve, and for God's sake be good to him, for I can't," Brookie whispered in a chok- ing sob that almost drowned her words. "When he is big, tell him anything else he wants to know but never, oh ! never, tell him, or any one else, who his mother was." And in the next instant, without a word of fare- well, she had dashed wildly away and disappeared into the night. Stunned by the crushing rapidity of events which had left her no alternative, Eve sat for a BROOKIE 217 brief, inactive moment, too confused to think. The same instinct that had prompted her, startled as she was, to hug the tiny bundled bit of hu- manity to her heart now responded to her frantic, inner call for aid. In the next instant she found herself getting hurriedly out of the machine with- out thought or reason for the act. Once in the street, however, her clouded, confused vision cleared somewhat. She knew that she must get away ; that the min- ister, returning, must not see her standing there with Brookie's baby in her arms, for she could not answer the questions he was sure to ask: Whose baby was it 1 ? Who was Brookie? And Brookie's husband who was he? And what had she, Eve, to do with it all? No, she could not face those questions. She must go now before it was too late. Where was it that Brookie had been able to dis- appear so quickly? Ah, yes; the dark, smelly, fish market. ... In a moment Eve was gone. Half an hour later, Eve, with the little frag- ment of humanity hugged to her heart, left a street car at its crossing with the Annapolis Road and faced southward along the hard macadam highway. Perhaps, after all, she had reasoned, she 218 EVE, JUNIOR owed this to Brookie. It may have been more her fault than the fault of the young stepmother that Brookie had left the island that night of storm six years ago. Eve would take her child and care for it as an evidence of good faith, as an act of indemnity and reparation for her share of the moral responsibility for the unfortunate affair. Of her own great sacrifice she had no thought. In the execution of what she felt to be her duty there was no middle ground. She gave all that was hers to give and though her heart was break- ing for those she had just left and all they had come to mean to her, she resolutely put away the temptation to turn back, and faced her newer duty with a will that was absolute. With characteristic decision her mind had quickly arrived at a conclusion from which she did not swerve. She was going back to Bodkin. It was late when Eve had entered the old road ; it was nearly daylight when, at last, a faint glow began to filter in upon the path ahead and brighten as the trail widened and dipped to the yellow beach beyond which lay the island. A half tide covered the neck waist-deep, but Eve, thinking BROOKIE 219 only of the little mortal in her arms, and thank- ful that the icy water was not at full flood, waded in without a moment's hesitation. The water chilled and cramped her aching muscles and sent her blood back icy cold until her very heart seemed frozen within her. The quick reaction drove all desire of sleep from her and left her wide awake to suffer more keenly than ever the utter exhaustion of an overwrought mind and body. As she came out on the island beach the light wind wrapped her dripping skirts about her so that she staggered and stumbled at every step. And the dog, Tip, lying in the open doorway of old Plum's cabin, half awake, half asleep, yet ever watchful and alert, heard the strange commo- tion and decided to investigate. A moment later he was romping joyously about his beloved, long- lost mistress and giving vent to his extreme hap- piness in great deep-throated barks which Eve tried vainly to suppress. For Tip argued that this was his day and he meant to celebrate it in the only way he knew. CHAPTER XVIII BACK TO BODKIN EXHAUSTED though Eve was when she reached the old familiar shack she took no thought to her own comfort. The child had slept soundly through- out the eventful night. Even the barking of the dog had not disturbed him. But now as she car- ried him to her room and laid him gently on the bed he began to grow restive and show signs of waking. With her wet skirts still clinging to her, she hurried to the cupboard in the living room where, as she had expected, she found a jar of sweet milk in its usual place. A yeast powder bottle was quickly emptied of its contents and thoroughly cleansed and filled with milk. She then took the cork, and, cutting the center out of it, inserted a little piece of linen torn from a clean pillow case and tied a knot in it on the under side of the cork. Pressing the cork tightly into the bottle she put the contrivance BACK TO BODKIN 221 to her lips and sucked hard to test it. The knot held and a tiny stream of milk was drawn through the linen into her mouth. She laughed, well pleased with the success of her experiment, and returned to her room just as the child awakened. He threw out his hands in eager expectation, feeling around for his break- fast in the blindly futile way of infant kind. Not finding it in the course of his maneuvers, he waxed warm and red with anger and impatience, his dig- nity deeply offended at the apparent neglect and delay. His round little face wrinkled with in- fantile fury until it resembled a small, shriveled, sun-dried pumpkin; and then he gave vociferous 7 vent to his injured feelings. When Eve put the improvised nipple between his widely parted lips and turned him comfortably on his side, however, the wrinkles of rage faded to the chubby creases of a cherubic smile. The baby went to work with a will that quickly dimin- ished the milk supply and left him peacefully sleeping. It was just a little after sunrise when Eve, broom in hand, opened the front door prepara- tory to sweeping the living room and there on the 222 EVE, JUNIOR broad stone step stood Plum about to enter. Im- bued with all the fearsome superstition of his race, the sudden sight of Eve threw the old negro into a violent fit of alarm. He thrust out his with- ered black hands as if to ward off the approach of an evil spirit and his glazed old eyes widened with abject fear. In spite of the fact that it was to him a vision of his divine "li'l Missy," his ter- ror was none the less overwhelming and complete. "Why, Plum, you darlin' old black rascal," Eve chided him affectionately. "Don't you know your little missy any more*?" The old negro blinked doubtfully and stared at her with unbelieving eyes. Then he lifted his hand to her cheek and stroked its firm, pale smoothness as though he thus assured himself of her reality. In the next moment he hugged her to his breast and his tears wet her glistening hair. "De Lawd be praised ! If hit ain't li'l Missy done come back ag'in!" he sobbed with joy when he found his voice. "Ole Plum, he 'lowed de swamp done ketched her, too, an' here she done come back to life. Praise de Lawd ! Ole Plum, de Lawd be praised !" Eve led him into the room and to a chair, for BACK TO BODKIN 223 the old fellow's fright had left him somewhat feeble. She hastened to the cupboard where she had always kept his whiskey. "I think you'd better have a little bracer, Plum," she smiled. "Seeing me has made you weak in the knees." "Li'l Missy 'peared mighty lak a ha'nt to ole Plum, a-poppin' outen de do' way lak a-dat all on a-suddent. Reckon he mought ought to have a leetle drap this here mornin'. Ain't had ary dram since li'l Missy went away, ole Plum ain't. 'Lowed he'd never te'ch de stuff ag'in 'less she-all come'n back and here she is." He turned to watch Eve pour the liquor for him and entered his usual plea and protest when she put the jug aside. "Jus 5 another drap; li'l Missy mought make hit jus' another drap dis here time," coaxed Plum. Eve laughed. "You haven't forgotten your old tricks, have you, Plum*? Well, maybe this is a sort of special occasion. In honor of my return you shall have three fingers to-day. But mind you, Plum, just for to-day. To-morrow, two fingers and no more ; so don't forget!" 224 EVE, JUNIOR Plum took the glass with a trembling hand and drained the contents at a gulp. A slow smile overspread his glossy, blue-black features as he smacked his lips in relishing aftertaste. C Ole Plum'd kind o' lak for li'l Missy t' come'n back every day," he cackled, laughing uproari- ously at his little witticism. Then Plum recounted all that had happened since the night Eve disappeared; the useless search that had occupied all of the next day; the return of her father toward noon of the second day with his broken head and engine; the depar- ture of the Iris and McLean's message, which Plum had forgotten to transmit, and, finally, of the surveyor's visit to the island during the winter. At this juncture of his narrative Plum hurried to his quarters as fast as his old legs would take him and fetched back the pin which McLean had given him for Eve. The girl took it and fastened it in her blue denim waist. This little act of Mc- Lean's in a large measure reassured her of his good will. And more than ever now she was cer- tain that Johnson had lied. Eve realized how utterly helpless she was to make any plausible or satisfactory explanation BACK TO BODKIN 225 to her father. Even if it came to the worst and she was compelled to give account of the child she decided that it should be a fictitious one, for she knew that, aside from the debt of duty she felt toward Brookie, she could never bring her- self to tell Skip that the boy belonged to his wife. Better a thousand times that he should continue to think of Brookie as dead than to know her to be living in shame and adultery. Rather than wound her father with this knowledge Eve de- termined to risk her own honor and his love for her. At eleven o'clock Skip landed on the log wharf, staked out his live box and made at once for the shack. And soon father and daughter were elapsed in each other's arms. For a time Carroll was so supremely happy and content in the possession of his daughter again that he asked few questions. And though the re- plies he got were usually evasive and ambiguous, he was almost satisfied. It was not until lunch was over and Eve had finished the dishes that he asked a point-blank question that demanded a definite answer. "How come you to quit us so suddent, like, 226 EVE, JUNIOR Eve?" he began quietly. "And where you been so long?" "I'd rather not talk about it, Dad. I'm all right and I've been where folks were mighty good to me. But, of course, I'm awful glad to be home again. And I've learned things, too, Dad. I can read and write, and and talk a little better than I used to; because, Dad, other folks don't talk just like we do. Not that it makes any differ- ence, though but I am glad that I can read and write. And I can draw better and paint, too, Dad. Oh, I've learned lots since I went away! But now that I'm back I'm glad; and I won't ever go away any more." "Did you go 'way to 1'arn things'?" "Why, yes," Eve hesitated on the brink of an idea that might aid her in allaying his suspicions. "Yes, I reckon I did." For three days all went well. Skip was away for the better part of the time. And old Plum was so deaf that even when, on one occasion while he was eating after Carroll had finished and gone the boy began to cry, he did not hear the wail. On the morning of the fourth day, how- ever, the little fellow was very troublesome. And BACK TO BODKIN 227 more than once Eve was sure that her secret was out, for Skip was tarring some nets down on the beach and frequently came to the shack for some little thing that he needed now a needle, now more twine, or again for a bite from the cupboard. By good luck and the use of much diplomacy in handling the child, however, Eve managed to keep him quiet when her father was near. She knew that Carroll would be going out to his nets soon after lunch and that it would be well past night- fall when he returned. So toward this promise of respite she leaned hopefully. But the game she was playing contained un- known quantities and elements of surprise which no amount of reckoning could foresee and provide against. Lunch passed off smoothly. But as Eve and Plum ate, a storm brewed; and soon after noon a squall broke down from the northwest with a sudden fury that bent the tree-tops and flattened the young grass and sent sheets of rain pattering against the window panes. And with the rain, in came Skip, impatient with the enforced delay. As he was standing at the window watching the steady progress of the storm with evident dis- pleasure, the baby cried in the next room. It was 228 EVE, JUNIOR only the faintest of wails. And Eve hoped that she alone had heard the sound. Hurrying to her room, she was attempting to quiet the child, when she looked up from the basket to find her father standing in the doorway, his face red and white by turns, his eyes flashing angrily, his brows con- tracted and glowering. He advanced upon her fiercely as she bent over the swinging basket. "So that there is what tuk ye away, is it*?" he roared, adding with a contemptuous sneer, "And what brung ye back ag'in, hey?" "No, Dad!" Eve quietly denied. "You're wrong. I know how it looks to you and I reckon I can't blame you, but you're wrong. I didn't go away for for anything like that. It isn't mine, Dad " "Whose is it?" Skip interrupted hotly. "I can't tell you, Dad, but it isn't mine." Skip looked at her long and searchingly. "Eve Carroll," he said slowly, mastering his anger some- what, "you ain't never told me a lie before." "And I'm not now, Dad, but you're asking me something that I can't answer. He is not my 'So that there is what tuk ye away, is it ?" BACK TO BODKIN 229 child. His mother couldn't take care of him and she gave him to me." Carroll laughed hoarsely; then he flushed with anger until the veins in his neck and temples stood out like knotted cords. "A dam' onlikely kind o' yarn!" he jeered con- temptuously. "You mought as well own up, gal, as spin such stuff as that to me. I wa'n't born yistidday an' my eyes is open. Eve, I never thought you'd a-come to the likes o' this. I'd ruther a thousand times o' put you 'longside the others out there underneath the willow than see you a-standin' there a-lyin' about a thing like that. Who was it, gal? The mate or the sur- veyor? Answer me, Eve, and be quick about it!" The girl was silent, her crimson face averted. Skip leaned over, and, grasping her firmly by the arm, swung her around to face him. "You'll answer what I ask ye, or by God, you'll take yourself and your brat back where ye come from quicker'n scat !" "Very well, Dad! I've said all I had to say," was her resolute reply as she turned to the child again. 230 EVE, JUNIOR Carroll studied her for an uncertain moment. "Very well what?" he demanded. "I'll go," said Eve quietly. For an instant the big fisherman flared hotly. Then of a sudden the flame of his anger died and left him cold and remorseful. He stretched forth his arms and gathered her to his heart in a long, tender embrace. Tears sprang to his eyes and rolled slowly down his brown, weather-beaten cheeks and his voice when he spoke was choked with sobs. "My poor leetle gal!" he commiserated brokenly, as he stroked the copperish-golden head that nestled against his bosom. "I can't, I jus' can't git along without ye, now you're back ag'in. I don't keer, by Harry, if ye'd brung home a whole litter o' kids you're my gal, my leetle Eve and you're all I got!" CHAPTER XIX A BAFFLING LIKENESS THE days that followed were days of heartbreak for Eve, for though her father never again ques- tioned her about the child she could see that the subject was ever present in his mind. He grew silent and moody, and ate his meals and went his way with scarce a word or smile. Sometimes, as of old, he would take Eve in his arms and hold her close for a long moment, while his lips caressed her hair. But seldom at such times did he speak; and presently, with a deep-drawn sigh, he would release her and stride silently out to his boat. And Eve, sensing the strong, unmistakable un- dercurrent of feeling that prompted these pitiful little demonstrations of her father's great love for her, would run to her room and fling herself upon her bed. There she would sob her heart out until the boy, swinging in his improvised crib, de- manded her attention and distracted her thoughts. 231 232 EVE, JUNIOR Then, perhaps, she would take him in her arms and rock and sing and croon him to sleep again while her tears dried. Often when the little fellow was wakeful she would wrap him in a soft, warm blanket and carry him up the island road to her old lookout on the top of the bank at the foot of the great water oak. Here, as in other days, when the weather per- mitted, she spent much of her time, though in a very different way for the pencil of former days no longer occupied her attention. She would sit for hours unmoved, looking out over the shimmer- ing water while the boy slept peacefully in her lap. For the most part, she tried not to think. And with practise she found that concentration toward this end grew less and less difficult. But there were times when her efforts proved futile and her eyes would fill and her lips tremble with ill suppressed emotion. She spent hours, too, at the helm of her catboat, with the boy wrapped snugly on the seat beside her; but the old charm of sailing was gone and in its place had come a weariness that soon discour- aged her from further attempts to revive her inter- est in that form of recreation. A BAFFLING LIKENESS 233 As the weeks passed the boy grew and thrived under Eve's solicitous mothering. His features, at first so vague and unformed with that nebulous generality of the new-born child, began to assume definition. From the merely generic stage, they gradually metamorphosed into the specific, betray- ing certain characteristics peculiar to type, which were followed shortly by the development of indi- viduality and definite even strongly marked personal attributes. As the child's personality thus unfolded, Eve began to discern a fleeting likeness that she could not identify, though she pondered over every de- tail of feature and expression with the trained per- ception of the artist. There were tantalizing mo- ments when the answer seemed within her grasp. And then the frail connecting link of memory would break and set her thoughts adrift again. This vague resemblance haunted her waking hours with a dogged persistence that she could not avoid, coming into her mind one moment with vision-like clearness and fading utterly in the next. It remained, strangely enough, for a fleeting smile to solve the vexing problem in a way that was intensely graphic and unmistakable. 234 EVE, JUNIOR It was an evening in early May. Skip Carroll, in one of his tenderly affectionate moods, for which he never found audible expression, had just re- leased Eve from a silent embrace and was gone to fish his nets. The girl fled to her room and threw herself across her bed in a passion of tears. The exhaustion that followed this outburst found slow relief in solemn meditation. For a long interval she lay thus with her face in her cupped hands, her elbows propped in front of her. The twilight deepened into dusk; the room grew dim with shadows. The evening was cool and quiet with that deep unbroken stillness which often marks the approach of night by a complete cessation of sound. The birds had ceased their song and chatter. The drone of insect life was hushed and the prelude to the hylas' nightly chorus was as yet unsung. The quiet and the utter solitude depressed Eve to the point of melancholy. In a lighter mood she would have experienced a delicious sense of reverent communion with the omnipotent silence about her; as it was, however, she felt lonely and isolated and her heart craved companionship with an earnest, prayerful longing. The boy lay sleeping in his swinging basket. A BAFFLING LIKENESS 235 Eve watched him intently and tried to derive some measure of comfort from his presence. But peacefully asleep and unconscious of her as he was he seemed very detached and far away. In vain she tried to reconcile herself to her loneliness, and when she could bear it no longer she arose hastily and gathered the child hungrily up in her arms. He awoke and blinked sleepily, puckering his face up in a way that presaged a vociferous pro- test. Then, as if sheer, irrepressible good humor dictated his mood, he smiled up into her face ; and the elusive fact at last dawned upon Eve that the boy bore an amazing likeness to Dr. Tilghman. Toward the last of May Eve decided that the boy's scanty wardrobe should be replenished, and accordingly she made arrangements to go to town with her father on his next trip to market his fish. When. the day came and they arrived at the dock below the fish market, Skip insisted on his daugh- ter waiting for him to dispose of his catch that he might go with her to visit the shops. She sug- gested that since the boy had been left with old Plum it would be better to expedite their return 236 EVE, JUNIOR by attending to their respective errands coinci- dently; but the fisherman kindly, though flatly, refused to permit her to go up town alone, tell- ing her, with a forced, half-serious smile, that he was "afeared the goblins would git her ag'in." His evident distrust wounded her; nor did the fact that she could not well blame him for enter- taining the suspicion aid in allaying the hurt in her heart. She quietly acceded to his ultimatum and remained in the bateau until he returned for her. It was while she was thus left to her own thoughts and devices that she decided to include a Bible among her proposed purchases; for as she had learned to read, her attention had constantly reverted to this Book whose simple words and exquisite phraseology filled her with reverent ad- miration. Skip returned shortly and together they went up Broadway where Eve's list of infant necessi- ties was soon completed and only the Bible re- mained unpurchased. As they entered "The Bible House," to which establishment Eve piloted her father, Eve uttered a little, inarticulate cry and would have turned and fled had not her father's big frame completely A BAFFLING LIKENESS 237 blocked the doorway. Unable to negotiate this eccentric design, she hid her face on Carroll's broad chest for much the same reason that an ostrich buries its head in the sand. For as she had entered the store she came face to face with Dr. Tilghman in the act of leaving it. The minister, no less startled than the girl her- self, stopped where he was and stood regarding the two in the doorway, momentarily speechless and bewildered. Skip encircled his daughter with a protecting arm, staring hard at the stranger while his brain, keenly alert, sought to compre- hend the unusual situation. As he studied the minister's face a tangible chain of circumstantial evidence flashed through his mind in unbroken continuity. The indictment it entailed seemed justified; and with an oath he declared it. "By God! The Dad!" he cried and sprang upon the minister, who, taken thus unawares, fell to the floor beneath the fisherman's great bulk. A clerk came hurriedly out from behind a coun- ter and made a futile effort to pull Carroll off the doctor; but Skip held on and paid no more atten- tion to the perturbed peacemaker than a mastiff would pay to a Pomeranian. Eve stood by, 238 EVE, JUNIOR frightened and breathless, but when the clerk made for the door as if to call for help she grabbed his arm and held on tightly while the struggle en- sued without interruption. It was at this stage that a tall, thin, well- dressed man of middle age and rather distin- guished bearing, who was passing "The Bible House," entered evidently attracted by the com- motion within. He quietly closed the door and stood unobserved and partly concealed behind a revolving book rack, watching the progress of the scuffle with unfeigned interest. Skip's primary advantage was short-lived, how- ever. Dr. Tilghman recovered from his surprise in time to free himself of his assailant's clumsy hold, and by a deftly concerted effort he managed to throw Carroll aside. In another instant he was on his feet again. Skip, too, arose quickly, prepared to resume his offensive. But Eve sprang between him and the minister. She turned to her father with an angry stamp of her foot, her eyes flashing, her lips trem- bling with emotion. "Shame on you, Dad! Are you crazy?" she A BAFFLING LIKENESS 239 rebuked him, struggling to suppress her tears of mortification. "That's jus' what I ain't. The dam' critter don't live that can ruin my gal an' git clear of it, makes no matter if he's rigged like a parson or a peddler," the fisherman cried wrathfully, with his blazing eyes fixed upon the minister. As Dr. Tilghman advanced toward Carroll without fear, the tall stranger behind the book rack watched and listened with attentive interest- "Perhaps you will be good enough to explain the reason for your evident antagonism toward me," said the minister in quiet, even tones, meet- ing Carroll's savage glare with eyes that did not waver. "I reckon you ain't deef," Skip retorted hotly. "You heered what I said." "I heard, but I did not understand either this or your first remark," Dr. Tilghman replied. Then turning to the girl, "Is this your father, Eve*?" he asked. "Yes !" she sobbed, and stretched out both hands toward him in silent entreaty. The minister took them in his own and drew her to him. "Forgive me, Dr. Malcom!" she begged. "Something hap- 240 EVE, JUNIOR pened that night after you went back to the mis- sion and I just had to go. I couldn't have waited to tell you and, oh ! I was so sorry and so unhappy and I know how mean and ungrateful it seemed of me and I hated to think of what you and Miss Mary T. and Mr. Piel would think afterwards, but I just couldn't have stayed another minute." "But why, Eve 1 ? What was it that made your going so sudden and compulsory*?" the minister asked, puzzled by her noncommittal account. Carroll reached out and roughly separated them. "I reckon you know nigh about as well's any- body the whys an' wherefores o' them there questions you're a-askin' my gal," he snapped. "S'pose'n you confine your remarks to the more inter-restin' subjec' of what you're a-goin' t' do about it an' don't take too long a-makin' up your mind, neither. You been a-backin' an' a-fillin' an' a-luffin' long enough. Now jus you git headed off on a straight tack t' wind'ard a-fore the goin' gits too rough. I'm right patient an' peaceful inclined but I don't lay to an' see no hurt done t' me an' mine 'thout comin' back hot an 'heavy." "Dad," Eve protested, "the minister hasn't got A BAFFLING LIKENESS 241 anything to do with this. He doesn't even know what you're talking about." Carroll laughed derisively. "Oh, he don't, hey*? It's dam' funny how a woman' 11 allus take up for the onery critter what's scuttled her reputation and struck out for the shore hisself, a-leavin' her t' sink or swim. Don't know what I'm a-talkin' about, hey? Maybe he'd kind o' ketch on if he was t' take a leetle squint at the kid ye brung back with ye, Eve." "Kid!" Dr. Tilghman echoed and repeated as if he doubted his hearing. "Kid !" "Yes, kid! Dam' ye, kid!" reiterated the wrathful fisherman. "The very born-in-the-flesh, bred-in-the-bone, dyed-in-the-wool, livin', breath- in', spit image of ye. The moment I laid eyes on ye I knowed who his dad was, an* if you ain't him then eyes an' horse sense ain't no use t' me. Why, man, that there boy looks as much like you as a model does the boat what's built offen it." The minister, amazed and bewildered, turned, incredulous, to Eve for corroboration or denial. But to his utter astonishment she burst into tears 242 EVE, JUNIOR and confirmed the truth of her father's assertion with a guilty nod of acquiescence. "A baby, you say? A real live baby?" Dr. Tilghman repeated, as if to test his hearing with his own voice. "Yep; that there's jus' what I sayed a baby a reg'lar, live, squallin', hungry, suckin' baby what looks a heap sight more like his dad than any leetle son-of-a-seacock that ever I seen." "But, Dad," interrupted Eve through her tears, "the minister isn't his father. I tell you he doesn't know a thing in the world about it. Can't you see that he doesn't?" "He's gaffin' an* so' re you," snarled Skip hotly. "Anyways, if he ain't his dad an' two peas never looked more alike then who in Kingdom Come is?* "I I don't know," faltered Eve. "I don't know anything about it." Carroll threw up his hands in a gesture of fu- tility, while Dr. Tilghman looked blankly from one to another. "What?" he exclaimed sharply. Eve turned upon him with a stamp of her foot. Her eyes flashed in sudden anger. A BAFFLING LIKENESS 243 "So you think he's mine, too, do you?" she cried passionately, quick to resent the apparent implica- tion of his tone and manner. Skip's laugh was ironical. "I reckon he don't have t' think," he interjected with bitter sarcasm as he turned to the minister, adding, "Well, Mister Parson, I'm a-gettin' al- mighty impatient an' nervous like with waitin'. What do you calkilate on doin' by my leetle gal*?" Eve started to speak but Dr. Tilghman inter- rupted her. "Some very serious misunderstanding exists be- tween us; that is evident," said he in quiet tones. "I know nothing whatever about the child. It is certainly not mine and I am equally certain that it is not Eve's. However, the evening your daugh- ter disappeared I asked her to marry me and if that is what you wish and she is willing nothing would give me more pleasure. I love her and re- gardless of this seeming difficulty I would rather have her for my wife than any woman in the world." The stranger behind the book rack seemed espe- cially pleased with this confession. A slow smile spread over his lean, arrogant face. The clerk 244 EVE, JUNIOR had retired to his counter, where he remained an interested spectator. "Then you are the dad, hey*?" the fisherman craftily suggested. Eve turned upon her father with the swift grace of an avenging tigress. "Dad, I could kill you for that, though I love you," she cried in a paradox of filial devotion to her father and loyalty to the minister. "You heard him say that it was not his child. Well, of course it isn't, and that's all there is to it. It's not his; do you hear? He never saw it or heard of it or had anything to do with it. And it's not mine, either. I know whose it is but I won't tell now or ever. So there !" "That's a real likely yarn, that there is," Skip commented with a bitter smile. "How the devil do you-all 'count for this here parson a-lookin' so infernal like the block offen that there chip to home, if they ain't neither one relationed, hey*?" . "It is, indeed, an unusual coincidence," Dr. Tilghman admitted thoughtfully and without re- sentment toward his accuser. "It's one o' them there 'incidents/ as you call it, that helps t* make the world a heap sight more on- A BAFFLING LIKENESS 245 comfortable for some of us than it mought be," drawled Skip warningly; then turning to his daughter, "Eve, you git that there Bible book ye come for an' we three on us will be a-headin' for Bodkin, 'cause the parson's a-goin' along t' have a peep at the chip ye brung back with ye. Maybe it'll kind o' help him to re-collect some things he's forgot," Dr. Tilghman gave Carroll one swift, search- ing glance. "I'll go with you!" he said. Five minutes later the tall, lean stranger of rather distinguished bearing and uncertain age en- tered the editorial rooms of the Herald with a long, swinging stride and an easy grace and fa- miliarity of manner that demanded instant recog- nition. A busy office assistant gave him imme- diate attention. "City editor, Mr. Trapnell," snapped the visi- tor briefly. "Sorry, sir, you'll have to wait. He's getting out the last edition," was the clerk's reply. ''Can't help it; got to see him at once," the stranger asserted as he pushed the clerk aside with 246 EVE, JUNIOR an imperious hand and made for the door of the "city" office. The man at the desk accorded him a nervous, upward glance and frowned at the intrusion. When he saw who it was, however, he managed to force a smile of greeting to mask his evident annoyance. "Oh, hello, Dillon!" he ejaculated tersely. "Who let you in?" "Let myself in," was Dillon's equally terse reply. He drew up a chair and seated himself while the editor frowned and regarded him with im- patient expectancy. Dillon leaned forward, con- centrated his attention on the man at the desk and began. "Do you want a 'scoop'*?" he said abruptly. "A 'scoop' ! At this hour?" the editor nervously glanced at his watch. "Last edition goes to press in twenty-eight minutes. No! Haven't got time." "Take time !" snapped Dillon coolly. "Hold a half column open and run it through at the last moment. This is sensational. It's a clean 'beat' and the other papers can't touch it because nobody A BAFFLING LIKENESS 247 has gotten it yet. Do you want it"? I brought it to you because you're a friend of mine. The World would be dam' glad to get it." "Shoot! What is it?" asked Trapnell, weak- ening under the threat. "It's about the Reverend Doctor Tilghman you know, Malcom Courtney Tilghman, Mount Vernon Place, St. Johns, 'The Anchorage,' and so forth, and chief witness for the grand jury investi- gation and all that. A Bodkin fisherman just ac- cused him of ruining his daughter. Heard the whole story a minute ago right around the corner here. Got the goods on him dead, looks like. Do you want it 1 ?" "Have you got names, dates, places, substantia- tion?" "No, but I saw and heard the whole thing, I tell you. Put it in as alleged material and get your own substantiations." The city editor tapped his desk nervously. "Can't do that," he objected. "Dr. Tilghman is a minister of the highest standing. The people idolize him. Old family, too. Ruin him if it was true and us if it wasn't." "Needn't worry about that. It's true enough, 248 EVE, JUNIOR all right. Just a lucky coincidence that I happened to be passing and heard the row. Some scene! The parson's an all-around good scrapper, I'll give him that." "Seems to be a personal matter with you," the editor suggested narrowly. "It is. Are you going to print it*?" "Not to-night. It's too hazy and there's not enough time, anyway." Dillon glared. "Don't want to lose Sauerwine Brewing Com- pany's c ad,' do you?" he snapped, his jaws click- ing together ominously. "What, full-page weekly? Not much! Why?" "Better print that half column then to-night," Dillon drawled quietly. "Why?" "Well, because their advertising manager hap- pens to be one of my ward executives, that's all." The editor frowned. "Now look here, Dillon, I won't be bully- ragged like that. If I think we can safely print this matter it'll be printed. If I don't, it won't." "Well?" Dillon encouraged, smiling his pe- culiar, sardonic, self-satisfied smile. A BAFFLING LIKENESS 249 "Well " the editor hesitated a moment, then read the politician's expression and uncondition- ally surrendered. "I'll print it. Time's short. Dictate it to my stenographer and I'll whip it into shape before the forms are closed." And Dillon, turning to the young woman at the typewriter with the light of victory in his eyes, began to speak rapidly. CHAPTER XX THE SEQUEL OF A RETROSPECT As the bateau chugged noisily southward the min- ister, with Eve's permission, related to Skip much concerning his daughter's stay at the Mount Ver- non Place apartment. The girl, meanwhile, sat silent and thoughtful, but at the conclusion of his account she resolved to add to it her own graphic description of Johnson's duplicity and their flight together the night of her disappearance from the island. Since McLean had indicated his feelings in re- gard to the unexplained episode of the book and the mate's culpability was proven, there was no longer any reason for her to remain silent. And the account she gave of that eventful night elicited great oaths of vengeance from the infuriated fish- erman, who recalled with savage regret that Mc- Lean had told him of Johnson's resignation from the government service. But of the night on which she returned to the 250 THE SEQUEL OF A RETROSPECT 251 island Eve had nothing to say ; nor did their con- certed efforts prevail upon her to break the abso- lute silence she maintained upon the subject. The events of the interval between the time Dr. Tilgh- man left her to reenter the mission and the hour of her arrival on the island were locked in the in- nermost recesses of her heart to spare a woman's honor and sacrifice her own, if need be, because of a latent duty toward that woman which her Puri- tanical conscience unremittingly imposed upon her. Plum met them at the door of the shack with the child in his arms. The little fellow had awak- ened and cried for his bottle, he said, and then had consistently refused to go to sleep again. The minister regarded the boy with circumspect attention while the fisherman, in turn, was no less attentive to every emotion which Dr. Tilghman might meanwhile betray. Plum was respectfully curious, the significance of the procedure falling beyond the scope of his intelligence. The minister turned gravely to Carroll. "The little chap certainly does resemble me," he admitted. "The likeness is remarkable and unaccountable. I don't understand it except, of 252 EVE, JUNIOR course, as I said before, that it is an unusual co- incidence. I cannot blame you for the attitude you have taken because I can appreciate how you feel. But Eve has told you the truth : it is not my child and it is not hers. Knowing her as I do I know that it is utterly impossible that it could be." Skip regarded the doctor dubiously. But soon his innate friendliness asserted itself in spite of the misgivings he entertained. "Come in an' set a spell," he said with a hos- pitable, welcoming wave of his hand toward the living room, and the minister entered. "Have a cheer," he added graciously, indicating the Chip- pendale heirloom. "Eve," he continued, turning to his daughter, "you mought skeer up a leetle bite for the parson. This here salt air's got a turn for makin' city folks hongry." "A fine old table you have here," Dr. Tilgh- man remarked, running an appreciative eye over the slim, graceful lines of the confrere to the Chip- pendale chair. "My father brung it with him from the other side England I reckon," Skip explained briefly. "England, indeed," the minister commented with growing interest. Suddenly he looked up at THE SEQUEL OF A RETROSPECT 253 Skip. "By the way, sir, may I ask your name?" "You mought. 'Skip' Carroll's my name Tilghman Skipworth Carroll, sir." "That is odd," mused the minister. "My name is Tilghman and my grandmother was a Carroll. I wonder if it is possible that you are in any way related to the Carrolls and Tilghmans of Sus- sex?" "Never heered o' the place," the fisherman re- plied without interest. "I have a number of cousins living there," the minister continued. "My grandparents came to this country in 1833, shortly after grandfather was stripped of his knighthood for sympathizing with the leaders of a minor revolt in Ireland. My aunt, his only daughter, a girl of perhaps twenty, went to England in the early '5o's and married Sir Edward Carroll of Arundel Hall, Sussex. "This alliance greatly displeased the Court and when several months later it was discovered that Sir Edward was in secret communication with certain Irishmen interested in the Sinn Fein move- ment, he was indicted for treason and deputies were despatched from London to arrest him. News of the indictment reached him, however, through 254 EVE, JUNIOR some inner channels, and when the officers ar- rived they found that he had fled from Portsmouth in one of his own East Indiamen, taking only such of his effects as he and his wife could secrete amongst their luggage." "What become o' the ship 1 ?" asked Carroll, cas- ually curious to hear the rest of the story. "Several vessels reported her in mid Atlantic bound west but there seems to be no record of her ever having reached a port. It was about this time that my grandparents died and my father was the only immediate heir. It is strange that this table should have prompted me to ask your name and that, too, is rather a remarkable co- incidence but my sister and I made a visit to some distant relatives in Sussex several years ago and the moment I saw this piece of Chippendale I recalled a table at Arundel Hall which was its exact duplicate." Eve was an interested auditor of all that Dr. Tilghman related as she busied herself about the preparation of a simple meal. And when he had finished she told about the burning of the island mansion and of Plum's vague suggestions about castles and drawbridges, though Skip was inclined THE SEQUEL OF A RETROSPECT 255 to make light of that part of her account. Plum, however, whom Eve called on for corroboration, was very positive and obstinate in reiteration of what he remembered in this respect. He described his former master. and mistress with a degree of minuteness that would have been tiresome but for his eccentricities of speech and manner. He laid particular stress upon his recol- lection of the elder Carroll addressing his wife as "my Lady" and her frequent reference to her hus- band as "my Lord." When questioned further, however, the old negro developed a peculiar reti- cence to talk and had little more to say in regard to the matters under discussion, betaking himself to his quarters at the first opportunity. Meanwhile, Dr. Tilghman studied the old table top thoughtfully, feeling of its smooth, dull sur- face with the appreciative touch of a connoisseur. "If this table is like the one at Arundel Hall," he reflected retrospectively, "it has a double, hol- low leaf, the lower part of which can be slid half way out, revealing a shallow, inner recess much like a drawer. This little hollow is so padded that the compartment cannot be detected by tap- ping on the table-top and the sliding leaf can only 256 EVE, JUNIOR be released by the removal of a dowel which is quite invisible while in place. No doubt Chip- pendale turned out numerous pieces of furniture of the same design and since this table, unless I am very much mistaken, is exactly like the one in Sussex, I should not be surprised if it, too, con- tained the same little compartment, though I haven't the slightest idea how to detect it." Eve, laughing and curious, got down on her hands and knees to inspect the under side of the heirloom which had suddenly become imbued with romantic possibilities. The very fact that it was the counterpart of a table in a great old man- sion across the sea was, to her mind, both interest- ing and impressive; but, when added to this it gave incipient promise of developing secret hiding places, it became a veritable sphinx of silent mys- tery which it was her appointed office to solve and dispel. The edge of the table-top was marked with a double bead around its entire circumference, mak- ing it impossible to discern the presence of a seam or joint, if there was one, while the under side presented the usual well finished appearance of fine cabinet work. There was nothing in the ex- THE SEQUEL OF A RETROSPECT 257 ternal appearance of the whole to suggest an inner recess and after much minute exploration, at which Skip was somewhat inclined to jeer, Eve reluc- tantly admitted failure and gave up the effort, not a little chagrined. .But all the while she busied herself preparing the food and laying the cloth her thoughts were burrowing between the old table-leaves for her vivid imagination had been fired with the spirit of romanticism. Soon after the repast had been disposed of Car- roll took Dr. Tilghman across the river in his bateau and set him ashore at North Point, where he could get a trolley for town. On the whole Skip was inclined to believe Dr. Tilghman, for the minister's frank speech and ac- tions made doubt seem less credible. Nor did he doubt Eve more. It was merely that her position in the matter was past his understanding. It was beyond the bounds of plausibility for him to conceive that his daughter might take it upon her- self to protect some one other than Dr. Tilghman or herself for, so far as he could see, no one else was concerned. The minister had, himself, given a definite account of Eve's life and associations while in town and there was nothing to indicate 258 EVE, JUNIOR that she might have formed a friendship so strong that she would thus sacrifice herself for its sake. So that though there were many combinations of circumstance which did not include Dr. Tilgh- man in culpability, there was none which seemed reasonably to exclude Eve. Still pondering, Carroll turned his boat away from North Point and steered for the open bay. As he passed down along the west shore where his nets reached out into deep water he noticed a slim, white hulled, yellow funnelled steamer climbing slowly over the southern horizon. At first glance she looked vaguely familiar but the distance, added to her low visibility, made it im- possible to recognize her and before she was near enough to make out it had grown quite dark. It was well toward seven o'clock when Dr. Tilghman arrived in town. As he alighted from a car at Monument Street and turned eastward toward Mount Vernon Place one of the leading members of the Guild passed him and replied to his usual, gracious salutation with a cool, curt nod that made him turn and look after her to assure himself that he had not mistaken a stranger for one of his most devout parishioners. THE SEQUEL OF A RETROSPECT 259 Pondering over this untoward incident he was presently accosted by a newsboy from whom he bought a Herald. Turning first to the local news on the back page, as was his custom, he glanced cursorily over the headlines until his eyes fell upon an item which arrested his attention with the shock of its import and brought him to a stand- still while he read the half column that followed. The glaring headline announced: "Prominent Pastor Accused by Fisherman." CHAPTER XXI THE RETURN OF THE IRIS EVE had given the boy his bottle and made him comfortable for the night. And now she was her- self preparing to retire when she was startled by the distant rattle of anchor chains. Slipping into her night gown she put out the light and went to the window. Even in the darkness Eve recognized the Iris and her heart gave a little quickening leap that sent a thrill dancing through her and set her pulses pounding with suppressed expectancy. Soon a footstep on the graveled road caught her ear. And as Tip barked from the doorsill where he lay and ran to greet the visitor, Eve started, listening intently. The footstep was strangely familiar. The dog barked sharply as he ran, then stopped and whined a welcome. A masculine voice acknowledged his greeting and the footsteps continued. Eve's heart gave a joyous leap. In the same 260 THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 261 instant, all unmindful of her bare feet and cling- ing night gown, she ran to the living room door with her hair falling to her slim, lithe waist in a riot of dusky ringlets. On the impulse of the moment, oblivious to the impropriety of her act, she flung the door wide open and stood framed in the darkened aperture, a welcoming Hebe in filmy white. The indistinct figure in the path stopped short with a deeply indrawn breath. For a moment Mc- Lean stood as if petrified while Tip leaped play- fully about him. Eve laughed, a silvery, tinkling euphony of happiness that fell upon the ears of her startled auditor with all the charm of dis- tance-softened chimes. "Are you afraid of me, too*?" she chided gaily, and in that instant knew with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment the limitations of her at- tire. Her hastily attempted retreat met with inop- portune hindrance, however. As she spoke Mc- Lean was on the step before her and his out- stretched arms encircled her and drew her to him in a tenderly passionate embrace. For a brief interval she struggled vainly to free 262 EVE, JUNIOR herself but his clasp was as irresistible as the emo- tion which prompted it. Her face crushed against his breast grew hot with shame, her eyes flashed fierce resentment. Every atom of her being re- sponded to her aid in a futile effort of resistance. And then of a sudden as she felt his warm, quick breath upon her flaming cheek, she remem- bered his kiss on the wharf that day and a tur- bulent flood of elemental passion swept through her in a mighty torrent of awakening desire. Mc- Lean felt her supple body grow limp in his arms. Her eyes closed languidly. Her full, red lips fell apart ever so little as she smiled. A slim, white arm, bare to the shoulder, slipped furtively about his neck and drew his face down toward her own. McLean reluctantly released her, his arms lin- gering tenderly about her until she forcibly with- drew and fled in blushing precipitation to the wel- come retirement of her room. There Eve dropped to her knees beside her bed and buried her hot, shamed face in her folded arms. McLean hesi- tated on the threshold for an uncertain moment, then entered and groped his way through the dark- ness to her bedroom door, which in her haste she had left ajar. THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 263 "Eve Eve!" he called softly through the aperture, his low voice vibrant with emotion. The girl sprang to her feet, half frightened, half pleased by his solicitous pursuit. "Please go now," she whispered, fearful of wak- ing the child. "I'll meet you at the wharf in the morning." "But why waste to-night," McLean objected; "I love you, and to-morrow is ages away. Come back to the doorstep where I found you, Eve. There will never be another such night as this in all our lives. We can't afford to let it go. Come; let's take the happiness it offers. Girl! Please come ! Dress, if you will, but come !" "Not to-night. It is late. You should not be here at all. I'm sorry you saw me so so un- dressed. I heard your footstep and it made me forget and before I knew what I was doing I was at the door and then I'm ashamed of myself, Douglas. I don't know what in the world you'll think of me. Forgive me, if you can, and go back to the Iris" Eve pleaded. "There's nothing to forgive, Eve, but I can't leave you yet. Surely you must understand. All these long months I have loved you and wanted 264 EVE, JUNIOR you and thought that I had lost you that you were gone. And now that I've found you again I can't give you up even until to-morrow without a word. If your kiss meant anything just now you'll come back to me, Eve, and tell me that you'll be my wife." "It meant everything!" Eve impetuously de- clared. "I love you more than any one in the world, I reckon, but there are reasons why I can- not be your wife or anybody's, now, except unless " She faltered, then stopped abruptly. "I'll talk to you in the morning but now, please, please go, Douglas. It hurts me to ask you to, for I don't want you to, but you must," she entreated. McLean flung the door open, while Eve shrank, white and nervous, against the picture-covered wall. "If you don't want me to go, I won't!" he ex- claimed passionately, as he faced her in the dark- ness. She thrust out a trembling hand as if to ward him off. But he caught it in his own and drew her to him, caressing her face and neck and hair with eager lips as he folded her firm, resisting body to his breast. Though she knew that it was use- THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 265 less to struggle, she resolved not to yield as she had done before. In a moment McLean recovered himself. He held her off with both hands while his eyes searched her face through the gloam of the room. "You say you love me, Eve, and yet you send me away without a word," he complained boy- ishly. "If you loved me," Eve retorted, "you would do as I ask instead of coming into my room at this hour of night." "Forgive me, little girl," McLean exclaimed with quick contrition, "I just couldn't go without some additional assurance of your feelings toward me. You asked too much. You made me want you in one moment and in the next you turned me away." "It was for your good and mine. Now please go, Douglas. To-morrow " "Tell me again that you love me," he inter- rupted fondly. "I love you with all my heart, but " "And that you'll be my wife, Eve!" "But I cannot marry you," she concluded. "Why?" 266 EVE, JUNIOR "Because you would not have me." McLean stared at her, incredulous. "But I'm asking for you now, my Eve," he told her passionately. "Now, yes," Eve repeated in a tone of regret, "but to-morrow you will take it back." "To-morrow !" he echoed, mystified. "Never !" he added emphatically. Eve sighed. "Plum says 'never is a long day.' There are things that you will come to know about me, Douglas, and then you'll change your mind. I'm sorry, but it's true not the things you'll think, but the circumstances that will make you think them. And then nothing in the world could persuade you still to want me for your wife." "What nonsense you are talking, Eve," McLean exclaimed with fond impatience. "No circum- stance in the world could ever come between my love and you. You're in a pessimistic mood to- night. You've changed, too, somehow, since I saw you last. You speak " "Yes, I've changed," Eve interrupted bitterly. "That's just what I mean but you haven't found out how. You think it's the way I've learned to talk but it's more than that. Not that I really THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 267 have changed a bit, but when you come to know certain things you'll think I have and that will make all the difference in the world." She stopped and drew a long, deep breath and laid her hands upon his arms as he held her gently by the shoul- ders. "Do you still love me 4 ?" she asked quietly. For answer he crushed her to him and she yielded her lips again and again to the passion of his caresses. Presently, with a gentle insistence, she drew away. "Go now, Douglas while you love me and respect me ! Just for to-night I want to know that you still feel toward me as you did before I went away to be able to look back upon this night as the dearest, sweetest memory of my life. But if you stay- but, no ! You must go, Douglas, now. In the morning, if you will come to the wharf " The child stirred noisily in its swinging wicker basket, and McLean turned an apprehensive glance in the direction of the sound. "What was that?' he interjected quickly. "Nothing!" Eve replied with her heart in her throat. "Nothing! Please, oh! please go, Doug- las!" 268 EVE, JUNIOR The boy moved again and threw a chubby arm above his head. The basket creaked and swayed with the motion of his little body. McLean started perceptibly as he peered through the dark- ness. "There is something under that table," he ex- claimed. And as he strode over to investigate Eve frantically clutched him and sought in vain to stop him. McLean stooped and reached under the table, recoiling angrily as his groping hand came in con- tact with the child's soft arm. The boy, thus rudely disturbed, registered a lusty protest. Mc- Lean straightened up with a jerk and turned on Eve with a harsh, mirthless laugh. "So that's why you were so anxious for me to go, -was it 1 ?" he muttered savagely. "I reckon it doesn't matter much," the girl re- plied wearily with a sob that belied her words. "You had to know sooner or later. It may as well be now as to-morrow or some other time. If you think that and I was a fool to hope that you might think anything else well, it doesn't mat- ter, now." "What else is there to think*?" he demanded THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 269 brokenly. "You haven't told me a word, Eve, either of why you went or where you've been." The girl's short laugh was full of bitter irony. "And now I don't have to. It's all too clear, isn't it?" she taunted wantonly as she bent over the crying child and gently soothed him back to sleep. McLean stared at her in silence. "You're just like all the rest of them," she con- tinued in the same hard, indifferent tone. "It's all so simple that you couldn't be mistaken, could you? I went away last June; I came back in March and brought this baby with me. Oh, there's only one answer to that, I know. I don't blame you. If I'd say it wasn't my baby and you'd ask me whose it was and I'd refuse to tell you, you'd look at me kind of funny like you wanted me to know that you knew that I was lyin', only you were too nice to say so, and then you'd laugh and go 'way thinking just what you're thinking now. Well, I won't give you a chance to laugh. You can just keep on thinking what you already do and " Her voice broke in a sob. Her hand sought her throat to relieve the tightness that had 270 EVE, JUNIOR clutched it. She struggled for speech. "Good- by," she added breathlessly. McLean stood quite still for an uncertain, speechless moment, endeavoring to recover from the confusion that beset him. Then he hurried to her side. 'Tell me about this child, Eve," he hastened contritely. "Of course it isn't yours; but where did it come from? Whose is it*? You've been talking in riddles to-night. I haven't been able to understand you at all." "Nobody has, since I came back. But there's nothing to tell; nothing to make you understand any better than you already do. Even if you'd believe me now, you'd go back to your ship won- dering if I had told you the truth. And then you'd get to thinking it over more and more doubt- ful like every minute, and later on you wouldn't believe me at all, so I reckon you might just as well not try to first as last. Anyway, after the way I ran out to you a while ago, you couldn't think much good of me. That just sort of fits in with the rest of it, don't it?" McLean caught her hand in his. "I'll believe anything you say," he asserted impulsively, "only THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 271 tell me with your own lips that it is not your child. I know it isn't but I want to hear you say so." "You wouldn't believe me," Eve reiterated wearily. "You'd want to know more." "Tell me that it is not!" he demanded. "It is not," she repeated simply. "Well 1 ?" he encouraged. "That's all you asked and that is all I can tell you. It's all I've told any one. Now please go, Douglas. If you can find it in your heart to be- lieve me after you've thought it over, come back to-morrow. If you can't, don't come, please don't. I'd rather never see you again if you are going to think of me in that way." McLean kissed her passionately. "I'll never think of you in any way except the way I've thought of you since the first time I saw you, Eve. I love you and I'd still love, even if it was your baby. "You are beautiful, Eve, as I see you now more like a goddess than a girl more like a pic- ture that has lived in my memory and always will since the hour I saw it. Of course, it was only a rare coincidence, but at first I thought it 272 EVE, JUNIOR was really you. So did Claiborne, my assistant, who saw it before I did. He was in New York at the time, home on a leave of absence. The painting was exhibited at the Institute, unsigned, undated, without anything that might disclose its origin except the likeness to the model who posed for it. Eve, somewhere there must live a girl lucky and lovely enough to be your twin sister. Only you or your double could have in- spired the unknown artist to paint a resemblance so striking. It was called the 'Birth of Spring' " "The 'Birth of Spring 5 !" Eve echoed, shrink- ing away from him. "Claiborne read an account of the stir the pic- ture was creating and went to see it," McLean con- tinued. "Of course, he had seen us together last summer and thought he recognized you in the painting. When he came back to Washington he told me about it and I caught the midnight train and was at the Institute when the doors opened the next morning. It was ten o'clock then and I had to return on the ten-twenty-five in order to be aboard the Iris when she left the Navy Yard for Hatteras at five that evening. Otherwise I would have THE RETURN OF THE IRIS 273 stayed over a few days and endeavored to learn something about the picture for, Eve, there were moments while I looked at it that I felt certain it couldn't possibly be any one but you and yet it was utterly impossible that it could be, too. I even found myself imagining that it was imbued with your personality. I could almost feel your presence, your very nearness, just as I can feel it now. But the picture was not more beautiful than you are at this moment. . . . My little Bod- kin Eve, I love you!" And then a mutual im- pulse brought them to each other's arms. "Leave me now, Douglas," Eve pleaded all too soon. "It wouldn't make matters any better for Dad to come in and find us here this way at this hour of night." "You haven't answered my question, Eve," Mc- Lean hopefully reminded her. "Yes, I have," she replied with a quiet certitude that bespoke her firm resolve. He studied her for a silent, thoughtful moment filled with tense restraint. "You're sacrificing yourself to some imaginary obligation, girl. It isn't fair to our love." "Duty doesn't always seem fair but I reckon it 274 EVE, JUNIOR must be or else it wouldn't be given to us," Eve told him. Then she lapsed abstractly into the colloquialisms of former days. "I'm a-tryin' to do what it 'pears like God intended for me to," she said. "It's right hard, sometimes, but I reckon it's just." CHAPTER XXII JUDGE NOT FRIDAY morning's mail brought Dr. Tilghman an ultimatum from the board of deacons : Unless a satisfactory statement was in their hands at the close of prayer meeting Wednesday night of the following week his resignation would be demanded by the board. Somehow, the context of this communication reached the Herald, which published it and went into details even to the point of predicting the most probable outcome of the affair, namely, the severence of Dr. Tilghman's connection with St. John's, the failure of his crusade against vice and his ultimate retirement from the ministry. Let- ters appeared in the open columns of local papers recalling past instances of preachers of the Gospel indulging in worldly practises and purporting to demonstrate the Biblical truths that the flesh is 275 276 EVE, JUNIOR weak and that none is without sin. Having quoted, however, they proceeded to berate the err- ing as "hypocrites" and "whited sepulchers," for- getful, meanwhile, that it was also written of them and for them, Judge not, that ye be not judged. But the doctor, reading, remembered and re- solved to make it the text of Sunday morning's sermon. Before he had gone far in the preparation of it he formed another resolve. And when he had completed his sermons he read them over and persuaded his sister to attend both services at an- other church. He meant to take up subjects, he told her, which he would feel more free to handle in her absence and she readily assented to his wish. Sunday morning, having disposed of the pre- liminary service and announcements, he proceeded with characteristic brevity to his text. "St. Matthew, seventh chapter, verses one and two. He stopped and leaned forward, looking out over the congregation, his forearms resting on the open Bible, his hands clasped so tightly that the knuckles showed white beneath the skin. For a full minute he rested thus, as if await- ing their undivided attention. His thoughtful, JUDGE NOT 277 questioning eyes went from face to face, frankly endeavoring to read what was written there. The result was disappointing. Curiosity, prej- udice, indifference, antagonism were relieved but seldom by a sincere, smiling face whose owner still maintained unshaken faith against the ava- lanche of doubt which had descended upon the multitude. A mist crept into his eyes but his voice, when he spoke, was firm. "It may be that this is the last Sabbath I shall occupy this pulpit. With this imminent possibil- ity in mind I have come to you to-day prepared to touch upon two great Scriptural admonitions. So important have I deemed them and so necessary have I regarded their complete assimilation by the members of this Parish that I shall make no at- tempt to combine them in one sermon. This eve- ning's text will be taken from First Corinthians, thirteenth chapter, part of the fifth verse : Charity thinketh no evil." As he thundered out the words of Paul a hush fell upon the house. For a moment his hearers were confused, dumfounded. The very audacity of his selection of texts was disconcerting. How dared he, a man under grave charges to which he 278 EVE, JUNIOR seemed to find no answer, cast such an imputation into their very faces ! They turned and looked one at another, first blankly and then with growing consciousness, some flushed with guilty resentment, some pale with sudden anger, all inwardly disturbed as by an un- expected shock. A scattered few arose and left the church, their hurried feet and flashing eyes be- traying their emotion. Silently the doctor awaited their departure and the consequent readjustment which ensued. And then when order was restored he struck at the very marrow of his subject in a way that made his listeners sway to the vital truth of his words. In ten minutes they were enthralled; in twenty they were subjective to the psychology of his rea- soning and yet when he was done he knew in- stinctively that he had displeased them, that he had been too plain, too frank, too rugged and di- rect. Morally they were too soft and unseasoned for the spiritual trails he had blazed for them; they faltered fearfully over the first rough miles to turn back wearied and with little faith. Dr. Tilghman read their expressions with a feeling akin to anger. JUDGE NOT 279 "O ye of little faith," he cried, "you are doubt- ers, all of you. You come to church because it is a social custom, not because it is your Christian duty. You believe in God if you do believe because you fear eternal damnation, not because you love His law. You doubt His Word, not be- cause you doubt me, but because it has become your instinct to doubt because you have taken it upon yourselves to judge all things in spite of His warning to the contrary. All of you have education; many of you have wealth; and be- tween the two you have come to regard yourselves as the arbiters of heaven and earth. You recog- nize no law that interferes with your frivolous fan- cies or checks your temporal ambitions. Educa- tion, civilization and affluence have divested you of all respect and reverence for any law that is not immutably deducible to a mathematical equation or to man-made logic. The great potential at- tributes of faith and trust have gone out of you. Doubt me, if you will; it matters little; but be- lieve, oh, believe, I beseech you, in Him." A door in the vestry slammed noisily as though some one had closed it in haste. A wave of con- sternation swept through the choir and overflowed 280 EVE, JUNIOR into the nave. Necks were craned, spectacles ad- justed, lorgnettes focussed. In a moment the church was filled as with the drone of bees. Know- ing nods and winks were punctuated by occasional nervous titters. An old man near the rear was seized with an uncontrollable fit of coughing; a girl nearby giggled irreverently. But the doctor gave no heed to the conduct of his congregation. His face was pale and drawn; his eyes were feverish. His shoulders sagged and his attitude betokened utter weariness. As he closed his eyes and raised his hands to pronounce the benediction tears furrowed his cheeks with gently coursing rivulets; his voice trembled and failed with the closing words. He stood quite still for a moment while the organ pealed forth the Recessional and the congre- gation arose to depart. Then he turned and stum- bled blindly from the pulpit and into the out- stretched arms of Eve. "I just saw it this morning," she whispered brokenly as she led him to a chair. "Dad brought a paper from town and I I read about it. Why, oh! why didn't you tell them*?" Suddenly she turned from him and sprang up to JUDGE NOT 281 the pulpit, her eyes aglow with the fire of her pur- pose. Stretching forth her arms in a gesture that was at once a supplication and a command, she appealed to the outgoing throng with a single, silvery word-note: "Wait!" The organist leaned from her keyboard in alarm, her instrument abandoned. Halted by that imperious, pleading voice, the congregation turned and stood regarding Eve with wondering silence. Had Gabriel called them to the Resurrection they could have been no more astounded. Eve awaited the opportune moment. The people waited, too. The church took on the stillness of the tomb. "You-all know me," the girl began in clear, even tones. "I am Eve Carroll, the fisherman's daughter; but I am not the mother of the baby I took home with me nor is your minister its father. Dr. Tilghman knows no more about it than you- all do. As God is my witness in His house, this is the truth." She paused for breath and studied the effect of her words. Everywhere she looked she saw doubt and disbelief. Their faces angered her. Right- eous indignation surged through her in waves of 282 EVE, JUNIOR heat that brought a flush to her cheeks and fire to her brain. She stamped her foot and descended a step from the pulpit as if in wrath upon them. "Fools," she cried bitterly, "what sort of a world do you live in, anyway? What sort of people are you*? Have your men no honor, your women-folks no virtue, that you dare to judge all alike? Is there no good in any of you that you can see only bad in every one else?" Her voice faltered. Words failed her. A sob filled her throat with pain. Her knees trembled and gave way beneath her. With a little inarticu- late cry she sank upon the edge of the pulpit and burst into tears. The choir had withdrawn to the vestry room; the organist followed them. But the startled mul- titude in the nave gathered in little groups, mut- tering and whispering together. A little later they drifted out in twos and threes until the last had gone and Eve and the minister were alone in the church. CHAPTER XXIII A FACE IN THE DARK LATE Monday night Eve, once more at Bodkin, was slowly wakened by that vague, uncomfortable feeling that some one was staring at her. It came to her first as a dream that gradually resolved itself into a subconscious sensation and finally developed into tangibility to be realized in a sudden rush of consciousness, though it seemed hours before she could really rouse herself to a state of wakeful comprehension. She started up on her elbows, her eyes wide with terror, her heart aflutter, her lips parted in a vain effort of out- cry. A gray face flashed before her in the darkness; a skirt swished sharply. Footsteps hurried from her bedside and a form darkened her window in passing. Her bedroom door was shut with a crash. The intruder was gone. Eve sat up, shivering with fright, but her first 283 284 EVE, JUNIOR thought nerved her. In an instant she had leaped from the bed and was bending over the sleeping child in the swaying basket. And the basket was swaying to and fro, just as though a hand had but a moment before set it in motion. Without fear or hesitation, now that she had found her charge unharmed, Eve darted upon the trail of her nocturnal visitor. At the door she paused to listen. The night was still and overcast with low-hung clouds that threatened rain and glowed dully with intermittent flashes of distant lightning. At first there was no sound. But as Eve stepped boldly out upon the flat stone slab the bushes near the willow parted and a figure in black fled down the graveled path toward the mainland. Bare of foot and clad only in her night-gown, Eve swiftly followed. But the stones hurt her feet. She could not put forth her full measure of speed and the figure quickly outdistanced her. Eve reached the turn in the road just in time to glimpse the indistinct form splashing through the shallow water across the neck. A moment later it faded into the black shadows of the mainland. Eve descended to the beach and strained her A FACE IN THE DARK 285 eyes into the darkness beyond calling, "Brookie Brookie " But the swamp's echo only broke the name into a jeering laugh and flung it back to her. As she retraced her steps to the shack she could hear Tip whining plaintively from Plum's quar- ters where the old negro had shut the dog in for company. For the first time in her life, as Eve closed the door of the living-room, she felt for the fastening and after much straining at the disused, rust- bound bolt, slipped it into place. She knew that her father would not be likely to return before sunrise and by that time she would be up prepar- ing breakfast. The boy was still sleeping when she got back to her room and his basket still swayed ever so little. Influenced by an unaccountable fascina- tion, she sat on the edge of her bed watching it until the pendulum-like motion had ceased; then, chilled by the cool night air, she crawled into bed and tucked the covers close about her. But be- fore she had fallen asleep the rain began to patter down in big drops that broke and splashed as they fell. And the wind swept out of the northwest 286 EVE, JUNIOR and turned the shower into a driving mist that beat in through the shutters and trickled down the big chimney to the old fireplace. A wail arose from the swamp and shrieked through the shack. Eve pulled the covers about her ears in a vain effort to exclude the weird, nerve-racking sound, but the boy awoke and added his own small voice to the voices of swamp and storm and Eve took him and cuddled him in beside her and drew the covers close about them both. The cries continued, increasing in volume as the force of the wind increased. It was nearly an hour later when, in the midst of a shriek more terrifying than any that had preceded it, there came a sound as of the splitting and crashing of big timber and the shriek died to a moan that was drowned by the voice of the storm and the cries came no more. After that the boy slept again, but Eve lay wide-eyed and wakeful far into the morning. It was nearly noon when Eve heard her father's footsteps on the gravel. She ran to the door to welcome him, her heart leaping with joy, for she had begun to fear that the storm had gone hard with him. Her first sight of him, however, filled A FACE IN THE DARK 287 her with solicitous consternation. His left eye was blackened and the cheek below it so red and swol- len that it gave to his face the appearance of a huge boil. His clothing hung in rags and tatters, the knees of his trousers or rather, where knees had been looked as though they had been ground out on an emery wheel. His hands were scratched and torn and the knuckles raw and clotted with blood. "Why, Dad Dad!" cried Eve as she ran to meet him. The big fisherman grinned sheepishly then scowled as in bitter afterthought. "I met up with that there feller what used to sail mate with McLean," he said grimly. "Me an' him had a leetle argyment." "But, Dad, look at you !" Eve worried in alarm. "He didn't didn't " "No, he didn't!" Skip interjected positively. "I reckon I got most o' this here a-rollin' an' a-bump- in' around amongst them cobbles Maryland bis- cuit, town-folks calls 'em." Eve slipped her arm through his torn sleeve and together they went into the living-room. Skip sat down, viewing his scarred hands with a re- 288 EVE, JUNIOR flective grin, while Eve made preparations for lunch, meanwhile directing a rapid fire of ques- tions at her father, to which the fisherman replied with monosyllabic reticence. After a time, how- ever, she succeeded in getting him to talk. "Ye see, it was this-a-way, Eve," he presently began. "That no'ther kept the tide down right along yestiddy an' when I see the wind a-backin' 'round agin the sun las' night I knowed it was a-comin' on to blow. So, thinks I, I'll go to town an' git me some boots an' paraphanalia I been a-needin' an' then rig a rag o' fo'sail on the bateau, an' come back with the wind. Well, I goes. It's nigh on to eight o'clock when I ties up at the foot o' Broadway an' I hustles up the street so's to git back in time to git clear o' the harbor a-fore the wind ketches me. But jus' when I gets abeam o' that there place they call 'The Anchorage' I hap- pens to cast an eye acrost the street an' who does I see but this here mate feller. "He sights me jus' about the same tick o' the clock an' kind o' sudden t-like recollects he's got business somewheres what won't wait. Well, I reckon we must o' gone a hundred fathom or more at a right fair clip a-fore I overhauled him an' A FACE IN THE DARK 289 by that time we had comp'ny. Man, sir, I never seen so many people git together in a minute, like. Talk about yo' suddent summer squalls one min- ute there wa'n't nobody an' the next they was all around us, fifty head deep an' still a-comin'. "Well, o' course, by that time there wa'n't nothin' left for him to do but fight an' I wisht I could remember the rest of it as well's I can that there first part, but the trouble was it didn't last long enough. Seems like we'd jus' got under way proper-like when two policemen comes a-brushin' in through the gatherin' an' takes me head an' heels an' carries me jus' fur enough to set me on my feet in spite o' all the kickin' an' gougin' I could do t' the contrary. I noticed they wa'n't a-payin' much notice t' him an' I wondered if they was a-goin' t' let him git cl'ar away but he jus' laid there like a possum an' by'n by a big black wagon hove up t' wind'ard an' two more policemen got out an' shipped us aboard. "Well, that was all right, but they carried us up the street to a place that looked like a red brick schoolhouse an' one o' the police got out an' taken me by the arm an' led me up the steps into a long room with a high railin' an' a store counter at one 290 EVE, JUNIOR end an' another policeman a-settin' up behind it on a little raised poop-deck, like. Well, him an' me had some words about how the argyment with the mate feller started an' we couldn't agree so they takes me back somewheres an' locks me up in a leetle cage in the hold an' this mornin' they brings me out agin an' I has to tell the whole thing all over t' another feller an' he looks in some books he has an' then goes off into a kind o' trance. By'n by, he comes to an' says 'Twenty dollars an' costs.' "Well, I didn't jus' ketch on t' his conversation right away an' he looks at me kind o' owlish like, an' says, 'or* real expressionable like on the 'or' 'or twenty-one days in jail.' An' then I knowed what he meant, so I paid him off an' weighed anchor fo' Bodkin." Skip leaned back and laughed the quiet, inward chuckling laugh of one who is not particularly displeased with himself. "But, Dad," Eve remonstrated, as she swung the crane around over the fire, "look at yourself! You're a sight. Why I never saw the like of you. And what became of the the mate?" A FACE IN THE DARK 291 "Who, him? Oh, his time's a-comin'. They kind o' figgered that he wa'n't jus' as seaworthy as he mought be yet awhile so they carried him on t' the next port an' laid him up for repairs." CHAPTER XXIV THE SHADOW OF THE VALLEY IT was nearly a week later. The spring had been early that year and though it was then but the first week in May the weather was unusually warm and thunder storms had been frequent. A dark figure paced wearily to and fro along the stone bulkhead at the end of Brown's Wharf. The pier was otherwise deserted. The night was dark and moonless and a wind swept out of the southwest in humid, fitful flaws that filled the air with sound and made the woman's loose, ill-fitting skirt flap about her wasted figure as a buzzard flaps its wings in flight. At last a man turned into Thames Street off Broadway and entered the dark lane that leads to Brown's Wharf. He walked with a limp. And a clean white bandage which passed completely around his head obscured his right eye. He made his way between the piles of lumber and cord- THE SHADOW OF THE VALLEY 293 wood to the end of the pier. The woman saw him but in the darkness the bandage deceived her and she shrank behind a lumber pile, peering at him cautiously. A moment later, however, she recognized him and sprang out to meet him. Her unexpected appearance startled him and he greeted her with a muttered curse. "Been waiting here ever since?" he snarled. "Every night but one," she said softly. "What's the matter with your head?" "Fool !" he sneered and disregarded her anxious query. "I looked for you at your room but they told me you had gone. It's just a lucky chance I found you here." "The woman put me out. Since then I've lived oh, anywhere! But where have you been"? Why didn't you come that night as you said you would? Oh, I've waited so long, so long. And the bandage what is it for?" "An automobile hit me. I've been in the hos- pital ever since. And it cost me twenty-one dol- lars." "Then you haven't any money for me and and the baby?" "The baby! Bah! Where's the baby? You 294 EVE, JUNIOR haven't got any baby. You're always talking about a baby to get more money." The woman burst into tears. "I couldn't keep it," she sobbed bitterly. "I couldn't keep myself. You know that. I gave it to to some one who is caring for it until we can manage for ourselves." "We!" snapped the man. "We, hell!" "You said you would then," the woman pleadingly reminded. Her companion's laugh was derisive. "Then," he repeated contemptuously, "then was last year. Besides, they tell me that you've got a husband somewhere, anyhow." The woman shrank as from a blow. "Who who told you that*?" she stammered. The man looked at her curiously and when she lowered her eyes under his gaze he laughed in a way that smote her heart. "Well, if you want to know," he replied, "no- body told me. I just guessed it and guessed right. You can't deny it. You know that it's so." The woman, with face averted, was silent. "Why don't you go back to him'?" the man sneered. THE SHADOW OF THE VALLEY 295 "Why?" She flashed the first expressive glance of animation her eyes had betrayed. "Why 4 ? Be- cause a woman never goes back because the world won't sell her a round trip ticket on the road to ruin. Once she has passed the gates of decency they are closed closed and they never open to her again. But a man can go to hell and back and you know it, for you've been there." The man laughed shortly. "Yep! I guess you're partly right; and I ain't all the way back, either, while I'm keeping com- pany with you." "But, Cabe, surely you're not going to turn me down altogether now that the baby " "Damn the baby ! It's a bluff." "Bluff or not, it needs food and clothes and shelter and and a mother. And it can't stay where it is much longer. It's making trouble, Cabe, making trouble for the the person that's keeping it and for for others, too. And I need it, Cabe. It's mine, you know, mine; my baby, all I've got and I must have it. I must, I must, I tell you, and you must give it back to me. You must provide for it. You must, do you hear me ? Ah, Cabe, please, please tell me that you will." 296 EVE, JUNIOR The man looked down at her with contempt. His lips curled back in a sneer. "Why don't you go in for the movies'?" he taunted her. "With your sob stuff you'd draw down as much in a week as I can sweat out in a year." "Ah, Cabe! you don't know what I suffered through those long months of waiting. It's strange and I suppose I shouldn't tell you for you'll never understand; but through it all there was a face that bore me up when it seemed as if I could stand it no longer. Night after night when there was meeting at 'The Anchorage' I went and waited for the sight of this face, the only thing left in life that seemed real and worth while the face of a minister who came there to preach. It was such a good face, Cabe, such a clean, kind, spiritual face and I thought about it and dreamed about it and lived with it before me so much that when my baby came there was a likeness that made me wonder." "Huh! It makes me wonder, too wonder if the parson didn't have a little more to do with the likeness than you're giving him credit for," the man leered suggestively. THE SHADOW OF THE VALLEY 297 "You beast!" the woman hissed with indigna- tion. "Of course you wouldn't believe anything but bad of anybody because you're all bad your- self." "You can't talk to me that way and expect me to look out for your brat," the man snapped an- grily. "But you will, won't you," she pleaded. "No, I won't. Laying up there in that bloomin' hospital I missed my ship and now I'm almost broke. I'll have to take what I can get in the way of a berth. A dam' tanker would be just my luck," he growled ill-naturedly as he hitched around with his back to the bulkhead. The woman's eyes narrowed. Her furtive glance seemed to include every detail of her sur- roundings in one comprehensive inspection. Then she looked up at her companion with a peculiar smile. "Do you remember the nights we met down here last summer and how the boats as they passed used to spy us out with their searchlights'? And the moon on the water 1 ?" "A full moon makes a soft head," the man re- plied with sarcasm. "There is no moon to-night." 298 EVE, JUNIOR "No," the woman repeated thoughtfully, as her eyes grew narrower, "there is no moon to- night." In the next instant she lunged toward her com- panion with all the sudden, vicious energy of a catamount leaping for its prey, her clenched fists striking him in the pit of the stomach with the full force of her momentum. The unexpected blow sent him reeling back- ward, his body doubled up with pain. At the edge of the bulkhead he fought frantically for a foot- hold and clutched in desperation at the empty air. There came a cry of mingled rage and fright, a splash, a gasping, shrieking, intermittent struggle in three vain efforts, each one briefer than the last and silence; for Cab*': Johnson, sailor, could not swim. The woman stood on the bulkhead staring blankly down at the rou^h, black water that lapped so hungrily against the stones beneath her. The waves seemed to call hei; urging her to cast herself amongst them, promising rest to her wearied body and sweet oblivion to her frenzied brain. The burden of their song was as balm to THE SHADOW OF THE VALLEY 299 her heart. She would answer the call to-night now this moment A hurried footstep sounded on the pier behind her. She turned in quick alarm. A man was run- ning toward her with a flashlight which he swept from side to side as he came. In a moment she saw the glint of gilt upon his coatsleeve. It was a policeman. Instinctively she darted behind a lumber pile and waited. The policeman reached the bulkhead and flashed his light out on the water beyond. A moment later he was joined by a brother officer. "See anything*?" asked the latter, breathing hard. "Not a thing. I was sure I heard a man yell," said the first. "So was I," the second agreed. "Maybe it was the wind," suggested the first officer. "Maybe," assented the second. "Or it might o' been a 'rat,' " the first added. "Well, if it was, we'll get him later," said the second. "Yes, but there ain't much left when the crabs 300 EVE, JUNIOR gets done with 'em," the first replied with a yawn as they turned and walked away. The woman shuddered and crept back to the bulkhead, fascinated by the lapping waves. She got down on her hands and knees and peered over the edge. As she did so, a school of alewives dis- porting themselves off the pier fluttered to the surface, broke and dived away, their luminous, phosphorescent sides gleaming like a thousand glowing coals in the black water below. With a cry like that of a young child fright- ened in the dark the woman arose and fled in panic up the pier. CHAPTER XXV A REDHEADED WOODPECKER EVE was just getting the boy to sleep when Mc- Lean came in upon her the following afternoon. He stood in the open doorway of her room watch- ing her with eager, fascinated eyes as she mothered the little bit of humanity with a tenderness that betrayed her strong maternal instinct. "It's a pretty picture you make, Eve, sitting there in your little white rocker with your hand upon the cradle," he said with a quaint smile that was half a sigh. "You look just natural." "Indeed! Thank you! But it isn't a cradle, you know," laughed Eve, a faint flush deepening the color in her cheeks. "No; it's a basket that answers the same pur- pose, thanks to your ingenuity." He swung his cap like an awkward, bashful boy for an aimless, silent moment, his eyes on the floor at his feet. 301 302 EVE, JUNIOR "By the way," he said presently, as if he had just thought of it, "the survey's finished." "No !" Eve protested with a petulant frown. "Yes !" McLean insisted gravely. "Jiminy! Can't you find a little bit more to do*? Just a teeny, weeny creek or cove or some- thing that you've forgotten*?" "Not even so much as a sounding !" he replied in a hopeless tone. Then they both laughed through sheer helplessness to do anything else. "When do you leaved" asked Eve, sobering. "To-morrow night unless " McLean hesi- tated, glancing furtively at the girl. "Unless what?" Eve encouraged. "Well, you see, the department instructed me to take my vacation at the conclusion of this sur- vey and then report to the Alaskan headquarters at Nome. So I " "Nome?" Eve interrupted to repeat, knitting her brows reflectively. "Nome"? That's where they had that awful fever not so long ago, isn't it? I think Miss Mary T. and the doctor were talking about it one day." "Yes," laughed McLean, "gold fever; the very worst kind when it gets you right ! But about the A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 303 vacation I thought perhaps that is, of course, as there's no place else in Bodkin to stop I thought maybe you and your father might put me up for a week or so, but then I guess I don't suppose you could, either," he finished in disappointment. Eve eyed him soberly, her head a trifle to one side, her humor barely perceptible in the twitching corners of her mouth. "Of course, if you know some reason why we can't I shouldn't trouble to ask about it if I were you," she remarked dryly. "Then you can?" McLean's face beamed with a sudden accession of happiness. "Well," began Eve with a tantalizing air of giving the matter judicious consideration, "that all depends. For instance, you might not thrive on our fare. I remember the first meal you stayed to here wasn't just the tastiest you'd ever sat down to, according to your notion of it." "I thoroughly enjoyed every bite of it," Mc- Lean hastened to assure her. Eve smiled retrospectively. "Now take supper to-night, for instance. Of course, you're going to stay to supper. Well, first off, there's catfish 304 EVE, JUNIOR chowder. Then we'll have eel fricassee with corn cakes fried in eel fat and a side dish of pickled eel as a relish, followed by a musk-rat pot-pie and a winter cress salad with an eel oil dressing. I haven't quite decided on the dessert yet, but it will probably be dried apple pie with eel fat shorten- ing in the crust." "And after supper I shall probably go down to the beach and wriggle right on overboard with the rest of the eels," said McLean, making a wry face ; and Eve leaned down and snuggled her own face in against the sleeping child's that she might give vent unseen to the mirth she could no longer control. "The tide is extremely low and the neck is bare. Suppose we take a walk along the old swamp road," the surveyor presently suggested. "But the boy " Eve objected. "Plum can come in and stay until we get back," said McLean. "Very well ! But mind I shall have to return in time to prepare the eels," she warned. "Deuce take the eels ! The swamps are full of wildflowers and, besides, we may not have an- A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 305 other opportunity like this unless you consent to marry me," he said earnestly. "Or unless you consent to eat eel for two weeks," laughed Eve, not irreverently. The neck was, indeed, quite bare and dry; so they were enabled to cross the firm, gravelly strip of sand without so much as wetting the soles of their shoes. It was one of those rare spring days of what watermen so expressively term "no'theast weather." The atmosphere was clear and crisply cool and the sun shone with the brilliance of the tropics. As they came to the top of the low bank where the old road entered the swamp, Eve stopped, and turning, drew a deep breath of the perfume ladened air, for the fresh scent of the sea was deliciously blended with the pitchy odor of pines, the fragrance of the wildflowers and the humid, earthy smell of the bordering marsh. "Look," she said, stretching forth her hand in a gesture of delight, "you can pick out the farm- houses on the other side of the bay, it's that clear. Wouldn't you just love to climb a tree and look everywhere 4 ? I've sat in the top of the water oak for hours at a time on days like this. At first the birds were afraid of me and wouldn't come near; 306 EVE, JUNIOR but soon they found that I was quite harmless and then they would come and pose and sing for me. Remember the blue jay in my room*? I sketched him from life, sitting in the very tip top of the water oak." "You've almost given up your art work lately, haven't you 1 ?" Eve stooped to pick a single, snowy wake-robin growing in the moist mold beside her. "I haven't had much time with the baby and all," she replied slowly as she examined the dainty trillium. "Still, I've managed to keep up my practise ; early morn- ings, mostly, when the light is good. Strange, isn't it, that the roots of a flower so sweet and harmless itself should be poisonous?" I "But there are many others equally sweet and entirely harmless. Perhaps that is the wake-robin's means of protection; for next years leaves lie curled in this year's roots," said McLean. Eve sighed and turned to go on. "How beau- tiful it all is and how wonderful and perfect and complete! No artist could paint trees like these with just the right colpring and just the way those flecks of sunshine light each leaf and cone and needle-point with little flames of green and brown A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 307 and yellow fire. And it does look like fire, doesn't it? Look at that big pine the one the cones haven't all shaken off of yet can't you see little tongues of brown and yellow flame dancing about the tips of the cones'? And look at the bright green growths of needles at the ends of the branches this year's leaves don't you see a pin- point of green fire just a-glinting from the end of each needle? Well, you couldn't paint that, could you?" McLean smiled. "You're not getting disgusted with art, I hope." "Of course not ! I'm only beginning to realize how much bigger and better and perfecter I mean, more perfect the real things are than the make-believes the the imitations. Sometimes, when I look around me, I just know that there never was a picture made half so beautiful as God made old Bodkin, or these woods, or the swamps, just as they are, without any touchin' up, or high- lights, or anything except just the sunshine and the sweet, clean air. And then I can't help but remember what poor things paints and pencils are, even when you know how to use 'em." They were in the curve of the old road now, 308 EVE, JUNIOR walled in, as it seemed, on every side by tall tim- ber and flowered underbrush. High overhead the branching trees met in a perfect arch of young green leaves, through which the sunlight seldom found its way, so that the open space beneath was dim and shadowy with a subdued, cathedral glow. They passed through it with reverent, softly tread- ing footsteps, their lips silent, their minds delving near to the infinite. Coming now to the bordering swamps, the trees thinned somewhat and the way was strewn with bluets and yellow star-grass and carpeted with white plantain, which Eve called "pussy toes." Wild azaleas crowded up between banks of leaf- less, snow-white shadbush in splashes of brilliant pink, while the fragrant wood anemone sought to display its delicate tints amongst the profusion of purple and white violets which, far from being modest, made bold attempts to overrun the road. The hardy May-apple had seldom neglected a low, damp spot wherein to raise its bright green um- brella and hang out its nodding, solitary fruit. Even the ancient wheel ruts gave ground to its persistent advances. In the deeper woods bird and insect life had A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 309 been subdued, but here the bees were in every flower and the tree-tops rang with melody. A ruby-throated hummingbird poised for the brief- est instant before a tempting spray of wild colum- bine and fled with the treasured nectar even as McLean pointed him out to Eve. A cardinal flirted past them in a flash of living flame. A pair of blue jays, swaying in a high-bush huckle- berry by the roadside, scolded loudly at their near approach. "Look!" cried Eve in a low voice as they turned a slight bend in the road. "Look!" she repeated, pointing to a redheaded woodpecker drumming industriously on the bleached limb of a dead tree that had fallen partly across the road. "Isn't he a beauty?" The woodpecker took flight at sight of the in- truders and they watched him wing his way to the topmost branches of a lightning-blasted pine that stood on the edge of the swamp between the road and the creek. Eve's breathless exclamation betrayed profound surprise. "The tree he's in! Look at it, would you! Why, it's only half a tree!" "By jove! Split right through the heart from 310 EVE, JUNIOR tip-top to taproot," McLean added quickly. "We've got to see more of that gentleman. The pranks that lightning plays are stranger than the fiction of Jules Verne. But it's pretty swampy in there if you mind getting your feet wet, Eve." "But I don't," said Eve and led the way through a tangle of honeysuckle and greenbrier with the quiet dexterity of a woodsman. Though the intervening ground was low and marshy, the tree itself stood upon a slight eleva- tion and was somewhat isolated from neighboring trees of a similar size, being immediately sur- rounded by a few gum and willow saplings. The fallen half lay partly submerged in the swamp, while the gnarled and twisted roots still clung to its base. Eve and the surveyor stood for a silent, contem- plative interval, viewing the phenomenon. Mc- Lean seemed much interested. He examined the cleaved surfaces of the standing and fallen halves and compared them with the sundered end of the fallen half which had broken off close to the ground, "That's strange," he mused thoughtfully; "the lightning appears to have split this tree a good A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 311 while ago, for the grain is old and weathered; but this break is quite fresh, as though the fallen half had but recently gone down. And look there that proves it that willow sapling all crushed beneath it. See, the leaves are just beginning to wilt." McLean paused, his attention centered on the spot where the fallen half dipped into the swamp. In a moment he was working his way cautiously out along the cleaved surface. Presently he stooped down and felt of the wood. It was as smooth and polished as a table top and looked as though it had been rubbed with rosin. He hurried back to the base of the tree, where he stood looking up at a place on the sundered side so smooth and shiny that the sunlight glinted in its surface. Meanwhile, Eve watched her com- panion with a growing expression of puzzled in- quiry. "What on earth are you trying to do?" she finally exclaimed. "Sh-h!" he whispered, laughing. "I'm on the trail of a mystery. Look, Eve," he continued, sobering, as he pointed to the smooth place on the fallen half, "do you see that spot that looks as if 312 EVE, JUNIOR some one had polished it*?" Eve nodded. "Now look an equal distance up this half and you'll see the same sort of place." "Yes," said Eve thoughtfully, "just as if the two halves had been rubbing together." "Exactly. Now suppose they had it would have made some sort of noise, wouldn't it*?" "Why, yes, I reckon it would," she agreed then looked at him suddenly. "You mean " She hesitated, her eyes dilated with an uncontrol- lable dread. McLean nodded in affirmation. "After this tree was split the two parts no longer acted in unison. Sometimes the wind swayed one half one way and the other half in the opposite direction; and then they would rub together there near the mid- dle and make all sorts of weird sounds perhaps. Of course, I'm only deducing this to fit the cir- cumstances; but it does seem to fit pretty well. Another thing: the only wind that would have swayed this tree so as to cause the halves to rub together would have been a northwester because the line of cleavage, through and through, is from northwest to southeast, and the woods there pro- tect it from a southeast wind, while on the north- A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 313 west there is no protection at all. Wind from any other direction would have caused the two parts merely to rock with each other and without friction." "I reckon, then, that this half, in falling, made the awful crashin' sound I heard the night of the storm last week. I thought at first that our chimley chimney had tumbled in and taken the roof along with it," Eve remarked. "Another clue!" laughed McLean. "We'll have this deep, dark mystery roped, thrown and branded before the day's out. I'd swear that it hasn't been more than a week since this half fell and judging by the looks of it it didn't just fall of its own accord, either. It took a pretty stiff blow to wrench and crush a big segment of tim- ber like that; and if the crash echoed at your chimney I'll wager the sound came from the same place the shrieks did. In order to produce an echo the original sound must start from a point at right angles to " Of a sudden, from the region above their heads came a series of sharp, insistent, staccato-like taps that made them stare at each other in awe-struck silence. Coming as they had in the midst of the 314 EVE, JUNIOR unproved theory of a doubtful subject, the taps seemed ominously significant. A moment later the sounds were flung back from afar. There was no mistaking their echo. It was a clear and per- fect repetition of the original taps. McLean was the first to recover himself. He looked up at the top of the stark half-tree and laughed. "Thanks, old fellow!" he called to the red- headed woodpecker perched on the topmost branch. "Thanks! You led us to our problem and then you solved it for us. School's out; you may go home now. Well, Eve," he continued, looking into the girl's delighted eyes, "one echo is as good as another. I guess we've laid the ghost of Bodkin." "I hope so," she fervently replied, then added as in dubious afterthought, "I wonder if it would echo every time 1 ?" "Of course !" McLean assured her, backing up against the half tree. "Listen: c Oh-h, Plum ' " he called loudly through his cupped hands. In a moment back came the echo, "O-o-oh, Plu-um!" and Eve clapped her hands in sheer delight. A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 315 "We must be going home," she added pres- ently. "The sun is down behind the tree-tops already and the tide is setting in. We'll have to wade the neck, I reckon, and besides, there's the baby to look after and eels to cook." She gave him a mischievous sidewise glance. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Eels, bah! You can't cook eels. Five minutes after they're cold they're as raw as they were when you put them in the pan." "Well, what of that? Wise folks don't let 'em get cold. Dad and I never have any left-overs," Eve replied with a twinkle of merriment lighting her gray-green eyes. And thus they went leisurely back along the old swamp road while the shadows grew longer and the bordering woods filled with dusky twilight. When they came to the long, wide curve Eve stooped to pick an armful of wild azaleas and McLean spied a solitary orchid blooming amid the protection of a tangle of carrion-flower somewhat remote from the roadside. Heedless of thorns and scratches, he had all but reached it through the maze of unsavory briars when the crunching of dry leaves and the snapping of twigs in the im- 316 EVE, JUNIOR penetrable depths beyond caused him to hesitate and listen. But he heard nothing more and pushed on toward his quest. As he did so there came a hurried, crashing sound, as of a heavy body dash- ing wildly away through the dense undergrowth. Eve heard it, too, and called to McLean in alarm. The surveyor plucked the precious, purple- fringed flower and returned to his companion. "I didn't know your Bodkin swamps could boast of bears," he said, laughing; but as they went on through the deeply wooded way he cast many a furtive, almost apprehensive glance to- ward the blue, shadowy recesses they encountered. The tide was well up when they reached the neck and though Eve strenuously objected, Mc- Lean took her in his arms and carried her across to the island beach. "Toll!" he demanded, laughing, as he kissed her and set her upon her feet. She slapped him right soundly, but he straight- way collected damages in a repetition of his first offense; after which she demurely affected a pout and let him alone, though he recognized the fraud by the laughter in her eyes. Plum met them in the doorway, his old eyes A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 317 wide and glazed, his shriveled form bent and shak- ing as with palsy. The hide-like, plum-colored skin of his face was more than ever filled with nervous, twitching wrinkles. "Li'l Missy's ole Plum done come t' his time, he reckons," he solemnly declared in his sonorous, tomb-like tones. "Why, poor old Plum, dear, what ails you? Has anything happened*?" asked Eve in sympa- thetic alarm. Plum gulped miserably. "Hit sho' done hap pened t' ole Plum dis time. His time am come. De debbil called him an' his time am come," he wailed. Eve took him by the arm and led him to a chair within. McLean followed and they both sat down beside him, gravely concerned. In Eve's room they could see the baby sleeping quietly in its gently swinging basket and the sight relieved the girl of half her sudden fear. "Now tell us, Plum," she coaxed, with her hands upon his knees, "what is the matter with you*? Begin at the beginning. You look as though you're scared to death." Plum grinned feebly. "Li'l Missy's mo* 'en 318 EVE, JUNIOR half right. Ole Plum is skeered, 'cause de debbil's done called him, jus' corned right outen de old fireplace an' called him, hisself. Plum, he's a-set- tin' in li'l Missy's room a-mindin' de baby when all on a suddent comes a rappin'-tappin'-tappin', jus' like this yere," and Plum rapped his knuckles loudly on the arm of his chair and continued, "only a heap faster. An' Plum, he sets up an' listens like a dog a-settin' a covey o' pa'tridges an' in a minute somethin' hollers jus' as loud as hit kin, 'Aw-w-w, Plu-um,' right outen this yere fireplace an' Plum, he jus' comes down with a chill, a-shiverin' an' a-shakin', an' liked t' died right off, he did. An' if hit wa'n't de debbil a-callin' ole Plum, then he don't know whut hit were." Eve and McLean burst into peals of unre- strained laughter while Plum regarded them with an expression of bewilderment. "In the future," said the surveyor, between con- vulsions of merriment, "I shall never fail to salute a redheaded woodpecker, the wisest bird in the woods." Plum gave McLean a look which showed plainer than speech that he doubted his sanity. A REDHEADED WOODPECKER 319 He glanced back at Eve for reassurance, but found her nodding and laughing assent to what McLean had said. He arose wearily, his wrinkled old face a study of conflicting emotions. "Ole Plum done killed dem chickens whut li'l Missy wants fo' supper," he said as he made his way toward the door. Eve shot a surreptitious glance at McLean, "But, Plum," she protested with a wink that was meant to be enlightening, "we're to have eel for supper." The old negro grinned and licked his lips. " 'Deed, an' ole Plum sho' do wish we was a-goin' to, but li'l Missy ain't let ary eel light 'round this yere place since Marse Douglas, there, let on as how they's snakes." CHAPTER XXVI THE WAGES OF SIN IT was late when McLean returned to his ship and Eve bolted the door and made ready for bed, pleasantly fatigued by the day's activities with her lover. Her father had come in just at supper- time and had gone again soon afterward to fish his lower nets. Skip had always exhibited a de- cided liking for the surveyor, and when the latter had broached the subject of his proposed vacation the fisherman had given him a hearty welcome; so that, much to the mutual satisfaction of the three, it was finally decided that McLean should spend his leave on the island. Eve had just drifted off into a restful sleep when there came a tapping on her window pane. She awoke with a start that set her nerves a-tingle. Her heart seemed in her throat as she leaped from her bed and cautiously approached the open window. 320 THE WAGES OF SIN 321 A black, disheveled head was slowly raised above the sill and a pair of eyes gleamed in at her. The girl shrank backward with a little cry of dread. "Eve Eve !" a voice whispered hoarsely. Eve took heart and approached the window. "Brookie !" she called softly. "Yes, Eve; let me in! Please let me in!" the voice pleaded. Eve quickly made a light in the living room and unbolted the door. Without an instant's hesitation the bedraggled woman made straightway for Eve's room and the swinging basket. With a weird little cry of de- light she gathered the sleeping child into her arms. For a long moment she held it crushed to her breast in an ecstasy of primitive, almost savage mother-love. A sudden fear flashed through Eve's mind. Through the days and nights that she had nursed and cared for it she had grown to love the little mite of humanity as her own child and she could not abide the thought of parting with it. "You're not going to take him back, Brookie " she ventured haltingly. 322 EVE, JUNIOR Startled, the woman looked up, as though she had quite forgotten the girl. She smiled, a slow, sad smile that betrayed more of sorrow than tears would have done. She shook her head in list- less negation of Eve's query. "No," she replied in a voice of quiet resigna- tion, "I'm not going to take him back at all. We're both going to stay right here in Bodkin al- ways." The girl gasped her utter astonishment. "You don't mean that you're going to stay here?" "Yes, here!" the woman calmly repeated. "But, Brookie, what will Dad say 4 ? What will he do when he knows?" Eve insisted with em- phasis. Brookie smiled. "He won't do anything when he knows," she replied in the same even, timbreless tone. "How did you come'?" asked Eve. "By the old swamp road. I've been hiding over there since last night. In the dark I lost my way and wandered into the swamp and the briars tore my clothes almost off my back. Then I hid through the day and waited until dark again." THE WAGES OF SIN 323 Eve's expression bordered on horrified incre- dulity. "And you've had nothing to eat or drink since last night ? Gracious! Brookie, why didn't you tell me before though I might have guessed it by the look of you." Eve hurriedly prepared a generous lunch from dishes already cooked and in the pantry, most of which were left over from supper. And though Brookie insisted that she was not hungry the girl literally compelled her to sit down and eat. After- ward she helped Brookie remove her tattered clothing and bathe her poor, scratched body and gave her one of her own fresh, flower-scented night gowns. "Dad will not be back until well past sun-up and you may sleep with me on the side next to your boy," Eve told her as they made preparations for bed. "Dad won't even know you're here un- less you want him to. But that is for you to de- cide." Brookie did not reply. She seemed scarcely to have heard what Eve had said. Her whole being appeared to be centered in the silent contempla- tion of her sleeping child. She took him in her 324 EVE, JUNIOR arms and crept softly in upon the side of the bed which Eve had designated to her. In a few minutes she was apparently fast asleep. Then Eve extinguished the light and slipped quietly in on the other side. Her own deep, regu- lar breathing was soon added to that of her com- panion. But Brookie was far from sleep. For more than an hour she lay without moving a muscle, though her very inertia was torture and her body grew cramped and numb. At last she could bear it no longer. Turning cautiously, she watched the peaceful face of her fair bedfellow for signs of wakefulness. Was she, too, feigning sleep? Yet why should she, in the morning of her sweet young life with the whole bright day before her*? Be- sides, she suspected nothing. Nestling the baby close to her breast Brookie slid her aching body to the edge of the bed with a slow, sinuous movement that was like the stealthy gliding of a serpent. Softly she drew the covers back and put her feet out from under them. In another moment she was standing at the bedside looking fearfully at Eve ; for the girl had turned THE WAGES OF SIN 325 ever so little, disturbed, perhaps, by her compan- ion's departure. But Eve slept soundly. Silently the woman unfastened the door and stepped out upon the cold stone slab. The con- tact sent a chill creeping through her, but she gave it little heed and made straightway for the pebbly beach at the island's southern end. The tide was ebbing and the bar which at this point projected far out into the creek was bare and white well-nigh to the "up-and-down," or end, where the submerged bank dips sharply to the channel. Brookie smiled. It was not to be so trying, after all. The sand was wet and cold and her bare feet left deep impressions in it; which was well, for they marked the way she had gone and Skipworth would be back at sun-up. Perhaps he would find them before the crabs. . . . She shuddered and turned from the thought with a resolution that in- dicated her fixity of purpose. With the first cold contact of the water about her ankles she shivered and gasped, and went on. Knee-deep, she trod upon an oyster shell. It pinched and cut her foot and she gave a little 326 EVE, JUNIOR scream of terror and stopped a moment to look back and then went on. She came to the "up-and-down" with the water at her waist and the child sleeping peacefully at her breast. She raised its tiny face to her lips and kissed it again and again. A moment later she stepped out into the ebbing tide, smiling and breathing deeply as she went. CHAPTER XXVII A LEAF UNFOLDS ANOTHER mound was added to the three beneath the willow, for mother and babe were buried just as Skip had found them together the child still clasped in Brookie's arms. The big fisherman, by reason of the heartbroken sentiment which he still entertained toward the woman who had been his wife, would have it no other way. It was late afternoon when the rites were con- cluded and Dr. Tilghman, pressed by the insistent appeals of Eve and her father, decided to spend the evening with them. In their time of tribula- tion they both found the doctor's presence a source of comfort and consolation, a moral stimulus to their troubled hearts. Supper was over and they were gathered around the old table in the living room discussing in a quiet way the rapid march of recent events. Dr. Tilghman was telling of his fight for cleaner civic 327 328 EVE, JUNIOR conditions. Upon charges preferred by him, he said, the grand jury had but that day returned an indictment against the politician, Dillon, in con- nection with the Dallas Street case and others of a similar nature. If the court sustained the find- ings of the jury Dillon's power would be com- pletely broken and the district which he now con- trolled would be subjected to a thorough moral cleansing. "We must aim," said Dr. Tilghman, "to reduce the proportion of evil which exists in a given com- munity instead of vainly endeavoring by drastic, impossible theories to eliminate it entirely, root, stock and branch. Only the millennium will ac- complish that. No truer words were ever written than those of the Gloria Patri : 'As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world with- out end.' And though I realize the liberty I take in quoting them to such a purpose, they serve to sustain my contention far better than my own words." "An' you're tee-totally right, Sir," the fisher- man agreed, earnestly. "They ain't any Scrip- tur' or laws or courts or preachers or anything or anybody as can keep folks from lyin' an' steal in' A LEAF UNFOLDS 329 an' killin' an' cheatin' an' a-doin' a heap more jus' as bad, once they git their minds sot on't. Man, Sir, when the fear o' everlastin' damnation in hell-fire won't stop 'em you mought know they ain't nothin' else in Kingdom Come will." And he brought his big fist down in a smashing blow upon the table top. There was a little clatter as something struck the tile floor and rolled under McLean's chair. He stooped and picked up a small mahogany dowel, half round, half square. The others looked at it curiously, but Eve clapped her hands with delight. "There ! I knew it," she cried, dancing out of her chair. "It's the little old 'do-funny' that holds the sliding leaves together. Isn't it, Doctor Tilgh- man?' The minister took the dowel and examined it closely before he replied. "It is a curious coincidence," he said gravely, "but this dowel is identical with the one I told you about in the table at Arundel Hall. I re- member it because of its half-round, half-square section which serves as a lock when turned in place. Numerous shocks and moving probably 330 EVE, JUNIOR turned and loosened it sufficiently to allow it to drop out as it did just now." McLean felt on the under side of the table for the little socket from which the pin must have fallen. In a moment he had found it, and, plac- ing the end of his finger in it, pulled as hard as he could. At first there was no movement, but as he per- sisted the lower half of the leaf gradually sepa- rated from the upper part and slid out toward him revealing an inner recess ingenuously padded with a material resembling green silk. The drawer- like hollow was perhaps a scant half-inch in depth, about ten inches wide and nearly two feet long. It was littered from end to end with a multi- farious assortment of letters, documents, official- looking papers crested with the British Royal coat-of-arms and Bank of England notes in de- nominations of from ten to five hundred pounds. Eve picked up one of the yellow certificates, look- ing at it curiously. It was an hundred-pound note. "It looks like money," she said, turning to Mc- Lean. "Is it any good?" A LEAF UNFOLDS 331 "Any good?" he ejaculated, laughing. "Yes! Good for a little less than five hundred dollars in American gold !" "Jiminy!" Eve exclaimed and began to count the notes. In a moment she threw them aside with a little smile of futility. "It's no use," she admitted as she turned to complete her inspec- tion, a trifle embarrassed, "my 'rithmetic doesn't go that high." In one corner lay a small, well-worn, leather- covered diary which Eve, prompted, perhaps, by true feminine intuition, instantly seized upon as the key to the whole mystery as indeed it speed- ily proved to be. On the fly-leaf a masculine hand had inscribed in a large, precise chirography, "Ed- ward Carroll, Bart., Arundel Hall, Sussex." Eve slowly read it aloud with a little tremolo of sup- pressed excitement in her voice. McLean and the doctor gasped their astonishment while Skip evinced a mild interest in the revelation. The first few pages were taken up with itemized accounts and brief statements, but Eve soon found an entry that was vital. The handwriting and the unfamiliar words confused her, however, and she handed the book to Dr. Tilghman. 332 EVE, JUNIOR " 'June lyth, 1852,' " the doctor read aloud. " 'Set sail this day in barken tine Deborah three days in from Bombay. All crew deserted save captain, four Lascars and negro cook. One-third cargo still in hold. Weather threatening. " 'July 2nd. Making good progress West.- S. W. Destination indefinite. Cargo hold full of Oriental rats. Battened down all 'tween-deck hatches. " 'July 4th. Rats gnawed through, invading forecastle. Two Lascars died mid-watch. Fear bubonic fever. " 'July 5th. A pest-ship. Remaining Lascars died forenoon-watch. Captain ill. Have taken in every yard of canvas save stay-sail-jib, mizzen mainsail and main spanker. (Midwatch) Captain died at 2 bells. My Lady, myself and "Plum," the cook ' " " 'Plum, the cook !' " the three exclaimed in uni- son, their faces betraying their incredulity. " 'And "Plum," the cook,' " the doctor con- tinued gravely, " 'are still quite well. Yet who knows what the next hour may bring forth? In any case, our position is desperate. Weather good. A LEAF UNFOLDS 333 " 'July I4th. Sighted H. M. S. Stingray dur- ing dog-watch. Had Plum reverse positions of first and last letters in "Deborah" to read "Hebo- rad," the name of an Indian princess in the Prov- ince of Nepa. Wind abeam. Weather fair.' This," added Dr. Tilghman, "seems to be. the last entry." At this moment the door opened and Plum en- tered, blinking and squinting as his old eyes ac- customed themselves to the light. He stopped and stared at the group about the table and then at the open, drawer-like leaf. A flash of understand- ing lit his wrinkled features with a passing smile. "Is li'l Missy done found dem papers'?" he asked solemnly. "Plum!" cried Eve in a tone of rebuke, "and you knew they were here all the time !" The old negro shook his head in a vigorous, ve- hement denial. "Marse Edward, he told ole Plum they was papers an' things, but he didn't never let on where, an' ole Plum, he reckoned they-all got burnt up when the mansion did. He never knowed about no table, ole Plum didn't." "What about this here barkentine boat what's- 334 EVE, JUNIOR its-name was you cook on her*?" Skip demanded. Plum recoiled in quick surprise. "Do hit tell about dat, too?" "It do," Skip replied with emphasis. "Now s'pose'n you remark jus' what become o' this here boat." "The Deborah" Eve added. The old negro looked from one to another, startled and confused. "Marse Edward, he made ole Plum swear by the Good Book never fo' to tell," he said doggedly. "But, Plum," Eve coaxed, "Grandpa didn't mean 'never' He couldn't have meant for his children never to know. Most likely he left a letter and a will and all among his things, but the fire destroyed them and now we think that it is your duty to tell us all you can about him and Grandma and how you-all came to the island." Plum ruminated thoughtfully. "S'pose'n ole Plum, he tells," he said slowly, "an' in the night the debbil comes an' gits him? 'En what? Hit'd go kind o' hard with ole Plum, wouldn't hit?" Their evident amusement reassured him some- A LEAF UNFOLDS 335 what. With the instinct of his race he sought to drive a petty bargain. "Tell you-all folks whut ole Plum'll do," he began with a broad grin. "If li'l Missy'll 'low to keep the debbil an' ha'nts an' sech like away, and give ole Plum an extra dram every day fer a week a-startin' with one right now, why, ole Plum, he'll tell all they is t' tell." "Man, Sir, what did I say?" Skip exclaimed. "There's even old Plum : he'd trade his chance in Paradise for a good, stiff swag o' liquer. Git him the jug, Eve, anything t' have the rest o' the story." In his eccentric speech and manner the old negro drew a graphic panorama of the voyage of the Deborah. Soon after sighting the British ship of war they ran into a heavy southeast gale which lasted for days and drove them far northward out of their course. Previous to this time, Plum said, he believed that Sir Edward had been heading for Honduras or some other Central American country with which Britain had no extradition treaty. The continuation of the storm, however, forced them to flee before the wind and they finally came 336 EVE, JUNIOR in sight of land with a lee shore and a merciless gale driving astern. By great good fortune, how- ever, it proved to be the Virginia capes, and they entered and anchored in a deep, landlocked har- bor, completely exhausted by their single-handed battle with the elements. Here they lay for more than a week, recuperat- ing and unmolested, but when they were about to put to sea again a fire was discovered in the forward cargo hold amongst bales of hemp which their hasty sailing had not given time to discharge. Their efforts to extinguish it were vain, and after thirty-six hours they provisioned the yawl and put aboard it such of their luggage and effects as it would safely bear, lowered it oversides, stepped the mast, hoisted sail and made off in a northerly direction up the bay. And thus it was that after two days and nights they hove to off Bodkin Point while Sir Edward and Plum waded ashore to make a reconnaissance and replenish their depleted supply of water. "An' Marse Edward," continued Plum dramati- cally, "he seened the island a-layin' jus' like a big green-an'-yaller turtle off yere in the creek, an' he says, says 'e, kind o' laughin' like, 'Plum, that A LEAF UNFOLDS 337 there island would make a fust-class place fer a castle with a moat an' all already dug around hit.' An' 'en, right off he goes a-wadin' back t' the yawl an' ole Plum a-follerin' an' he sails right up t' this yere island an' an' yere we is." Dr. Tilghman extended his hand across the table to Eve and her father. "That makes us cousins," he said with a fervent sincerity in his voice. "I am proud of the rela- tionship, proud and happy to know that we are of the same flesh and blood. I had suspected it since the first time I saw this table and heard your names, but it seemed too good to be true." The big fisherman, at loss for words, gripped his hand in silence. But Eve sprang up and ran around the table to where her new-found cousin sat. Before Dr. Tilghman knew what she was about she had leaned down and imprinted a kiss full upon his lips. "It's quite the proper thing between cousins, you know," she said gaily as she returned to her chair. The doctor laughed. But the touch of her lips had seared his heart. In that full moment he had realized the limitations of her love for him. 338 EVE, JUNIOR Never, so far as he was concerned, would she be more than a friend, a chum and a cousin. The smile faded from his eyes. His face grew suddenly grave. Once more he faced the prospect of the years alone bravely and with no bitter- ness in his soul. He arose and made ready to leave. "This day's sorrow and happiness," he said, "make it possible for me to go back and give the board of deacons my long-deferred explanation of a hitherto inexplicable affair." They returned the doctor as they had brought him, in McLean's hydroplane. The night was clear and calm and starlit. The slender arc of a pale new moon burned dimly in the distant west still rosy with the twilight afterglow. McLean occupied the wheel seat while Eve and the doc- tor sat together in the stem. "I had a letter from Piel, yesterday," Tilgh- man remarked after an interval of silence. "He is in Paris with your picture, you know, though he says that he means to return shortly. I sup- pose he has found little gratification in being the unknown creator of an anonymous masterpiece." "Mr. Piel is very foolish to keep on hiding him- A LEAF UNFOLDS 339 self the way he does," Eve replied earnestly. "If the picture will make him famous, he must sign it and let folks know who he is. I shall write to him at once." "He says that when he leaves Paris he will never exhibit it again. He declares that he in- tends to give it to you for a wedding present," laughed the doctor, though his heart ached as he spoke. "Give it to me for a wedding present!" Eve repeated vaguely. "That is what he said in his letter, and I am inclined to believe that he will have an opportu- nity to do it a good deal sooner than he thinks." "Why?" asked Eve shyly as she glanced away. Dr. Tilghman looked at her for a thoughtful moment. "Do you love him?" His head inclined ever so little toward McLean. The girl flushed and was silent. "Do you*?" he repeated gently. She nodded assent, her eyes still averted. "I just can't help it," she confessed softly. "I love everybody, I reckon, and I love you more than anybody except Dad and him. But it's dif- 34 EVE, JUNIOR ferent with him. I love him in all the ways I love you and Dad and then, somehow, just one more way, but that one more way makes all the difference in the world. Sometimes I'm sorry, be- cause I wanted to love you in just the way you asked me to; but I tried and tried and I couldn't, I just couldn't, dear Doctor Malcom. May I call you Cousin Malcom? It's so hard to say Cousin Doctor, and all." "I should much prefer that you did, Eve. As for your attitude toward me, I would a thousand times rather have you love McLean and be happy in your love than to attempt to give me a depth of affection that your heart could never feel. Follow the wiser dictates of your instincts, Eve. Don't ever try to mold your heart's desire to suit a fool's convenience. Time mends most mistakes, but it seldom heals a broken heart. Where does Mc- Lean go from here?" "To Alaska. Is it far?" "Far? Yes. It is too far. How long will he be there?" "About a year, he thinks !" Eve sighed. "Then I suppose you will be going with him," the doctor suggested. A LEAF UNFOLDS 341 The girl started ever so little. "Why I I don't know. That is, he hasn't asked me lately." Dr. Tilghman laughed. "Lately !" he repeated, chuckling in spite of his own heartache. "Listen, Eve if you want to be happy, take my advice and either do not let him go at all or else go with him. With him away up there and you away down here neither one of you would know a moment's peace of mind. I can tell it by the way you look at one another. I think I shall write Piel to bring the picture back at once so that he may be here in time for the wedding." "All right," Eve agreed, laughing, "you do, and I'll tell you what I'm going to do with the picture when I get it: I'm going to paint Mr. Piel's name and the date in the lower right-hand corner and send it back to the Institute for exhibition." The minister studied her for a long, seriously thoughtful moment. "As I come closer and closer to an understand- ing of the true depth and beauty of your char- acter, little Cousin, I am more and more impressed 342 EVE, JUNIOR with the significance of Piel's word when he called you 'Eve, Junior.' In a flash his artist's eyes saw what it has taken mine nearly a year to see, and he summed you up in words which meant to him an ideal woman. At the time I thought that he was indulging in a mere pleasantry. But now I understand what 'Eve, Junior' signifies." CHAPTER XXVIII ADAM AND EVE REACH A DECISION ONE morning a week later McLean returned from a trip to the Bodkin postoffice in a high state of exultation. Eve heard him coming up the grav- eled road at a dog-trot and ran to the door to meet him. He waved a letter as he came and stopped just before he reached the shack to execute what appeared to be a species of war dance. "What on earth are you doing?" Eve called when she had managed to control her merriment. "Celebrating!" McLean replied gaily. "I don't get a letter like this every day." "Somebody die and leave you a gold mine?" "Better than that. Guess again !" "A million dollars, then, I reckon, if there is that much !" "No, this is a letter not a will. You've got one more guess." "I don't want it. S'pose'n you-all quit cavort- 343 344 EVE, JUNIOR in' like a wound-up wooden Indian and fetch that letter here where a body can read what the excite- ment's all about. Or must I come and get it?" They laughingly met halfway. The letter Eve read ran as follows: "Douglas McLean, Esq., "Ass't. U. S. C. & G. Survey, "Bodkin, Maryland. "DEAR SIR: "You are hereby ordered to report to the Custom House for the district of Maryland, etc., at the conclusion of your present leave, there to assume the title and duties of the newly created office of District Engineer. Your salary from current date will be thirty- six hundred dollars ($3600) per year. "This communication supersedes all previ- ous orders which are hereby rescinded. "Very truly, "H. O. WHITMAN, "Superintendent." "Why that will be right in town, won't it?" Eve remarked at the conclusion of the letter. ADAM AND EVE REACH A DECISION 345 "Exactly," McLean agreed with enthusiasm, "and we can build a little house in the suburbs and spend almost every week-end here in Bod- kin, if you want to. We could have a boat to come and go in, or perhaps a small car would be more serviceable, though we'd have to clear the old swamp road out a bit. Besides, you could take up your art work again and renew your studies along other lines. Then, too, there are the friends and acquaintances you made during your stay with the Tilghmans. As far as I can see the arrangement offers every advantage to both of us." Eve was silent for a moment. His quiet, self- assured manner of renewing his proposal pleased her far more than any theatrical outburst of pas- sion could have done, but her innate femininity longed to have the romantic subject approached and disposed of in a less prosaic way. She smiled demurely and said: "You make me think of a man who came to the studio to sell Mr. Piel a shotgun. He said that he had brought the gun along because he was sure that as soon as Mr. Piel saw it he'd buy it because it had so many fixings and things on it 346 EVE, JUNIOR that most guns didn't have. He said that the only trouble with it was that when you went to shoot it you never could tell beforehand which way it would go off. Well, it's the same way with this proposition of yours : Unless I can be mighty sure that all those advantages are going to help make happiness, they'd hardly be worth taking the risk for, would they?" McLean's face evidenced hurt surprise. "But, Eve, dear, this is not a parallel case at all. These advantages I've mentioned are merely incidentals, things that just happened to be. We could get along just as well without them because love is the only element that really counts. If you think those other things make any difference with me I'll chuck up the whole business and stay right here in Bodkin and go to fishing for a liv- ing just to prove that they don't. I love you more than anything in the world, Eve. Nothing else really matters, one way or another. My wife shall be my world if you will be my wife." Eve raised herself upon her toes, her glorious face uplifted, her lips inviting his. "I will," she whispered softly. ADAM AND EVE REACH A DECISION 347 After that some time elapsed before either of them found opportunity to speak again. "Now that that part of it is settled," Eve re- marked later on, "suppose we walk through the old swamp road again and see just about how much clearing will have to be done to get our car through." THE END ^ i A 000036031 3