^^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