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@@ -0,0 +1,13299 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of McTeague, by Frank Norris + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: McTeague + +Author: Frank Norris + +Release Date: March 12, 2006 [EBook #165] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MCTEAGUE *** + + + + +Produced by Pauline J. Iacono and David Widger + + + + + + +McTEAGUE + +A Story of San Francisco + +by Frank Norris + + + + +CHAPTER 1 + +It was Sunday, and, according to his custom on that day, McTeague took +his dinner at two in the afternoon at the car conductors' coffee-joint +on Polk Street. He had a thick gray soup; heavy, underdone meat, very +hot, on a cold plate; two kinds of vegetables; and a sort of suet +pudding, full of strong butter and sugar. On his way back to his office, +one block above, he stopped at Joe Frenna's saloon and bought a pitcher +of steam beer. It was his habit to leave the pitcher there on his way to +dinner. + +Once in his office, or, as he called it on his signboard, "Dental +Parlors," he took off his coat and shoes, unbuttoned his vest, and, +having crammed his little stove full of coke, lay back in his operating +chair at the bay window, reading the paper, drinking his beer, and +smoking his huge porcelain pipe while his food digested; crop-full, +stupid, and warm. By and by, gorged with steam beer, and overcome by the +heat of the room, the cheap tobacco, and the effects of his heavy meal, +he dropped off to sleep. Late in the afternoon his canary bird, in its +gilt cage just over his head, began to sing. He woke slowly, finished +the rest of his beer--very flat and stale by this time--and taking down +his concertina from the bookcase, where in week days it kept the company +of seven volumes of "Allen's Practical Dentist," played upon it some +half-dozen very mournful airs. + +McTeague looked forward to these Sunday afternoons as a period of +relaxation and enjoyment. He invariably spent them in the same fashion. +These were his only pleasures--to eat, to smoke, to sleep, and to play +upon his concertina. + +The six lugubrious airs that he knew, always carried him back to the +time when he was a car-boy at the Big Dipper Mine in Placer County, ten +years before. He remembered the years he had spent there trundling the +heavy cars of ore in and out of the tunnel under the direction of his +father. For thirteen days of each fortnight his father was a steady, +hard-working shift-boss of the mine. Every other Sunday he became an +irresponsible animal, a beast, a brute, crazy with alcohol. + +McTeague remembered his mother, too, who, with the help of the Chinaman, +cooked for forty miners. She was an overworked drudge, fiery and +energetic for all that, filled with the one idea of having her son rise +in life and enter a profession. The chance had come at last when the +father died, corroded with alcohol, collapsing in a few hours. Two or +three years later a travelling dentist visited the mine and put up his +tent near the bunk-house. He was more or less of a charlatan, but he +fired Mrs. McTeague's ambition, and young McTeague went away with him +to learn his profession. He had learnt it after a fashion, mostly by +watching the charlatan operate. He had read many of the necessary books, +but he was too hopelessly stupid to get much benefit from them. + +Then one day at San Francisco had come the news of his mother's death; +she had left him some money--not much, but enough to set him up in +business; so he had cut loose from the charlatan and had opened his +"Dental Parlors" on Polk Street, an "accommodation street" of small +shops in the residence quarter of the town. Here he had slowly +collected a clientele of butcher boys, shop girls, drug clerks, and car +conductors. He made but few acquaintances. Polk Street called him the +"Doctor" and spoke of his enormous strength. For McTeague was a young +giant, carrying his huge shock of blond hair six feet three inches +from the ground; moving his immense limbs, heavy with ropes of muscle, +slowly, ponderously. His hands were enormous, red, and covered with a +fell of stiff yellow hair; they were hard as wooden mallets, strong +as vises, the hands of the old-time car-boy. Often he dispensed with +forceps and extracted a refractory tooth with his thumb and finger. +His head was square-cut, angular; the jaw salient, like that of the +carnivora. + +McTeague's mind was as his body, heavy, slow to act, sluggish. Yet there +was nothing vicious about the man. Altogether he suggested the draught +horse, immensely strong, stupid, docile, obedient. + +When he opened his "Dental Parlors," he felt that his life was a +success, that he could hope for nothing better. In spite of the name, +there was but one room. It was a corner room on the second floor over +the branch post-office, and faced the street. McTeague made it do for +a bedroom as well, sleeping on the big bed-lounge against the wall +opposite the window. There was a washstand behind the screen in the +corner where he manufactured his moulds. In the round bay window were +his operating chair, his dental engine, and the movable rack on which +he laid out his instruments. Three chairs, a bargain at the second-hand +store, ranged themselves against the wall with military precision +underneath a steel engraving of the court of Lorenzo de' Medici, which +he had bought because there were a great many figures in it for the +money. Over the bed-lounge hung a rifle manufacturer's advertisement +calendar which he never used. The other ornaments were a small +marble-topped centre table covered with back numbers of "The American +System of Dentistry," a stone pug dog sitting before the little stove, +and a thermometer. A stand of shelves occupied one corner, filled with +the seven volumes of "Allen's Practical Dentist." On the top shelf +McTeague kept his concertina and a bag of bird seed for the canary. The +whole place exhaled a mingled odor of bedding, creosote, and ether. + +But for one thing, McTeague would have been perfectly contented. Just +outside his window was his signboard--a modest affair--that read: +"Doctor McTeague. Dental Parlors. Gas Given"; but that was all. It was +his ambition, his dream, to have projecting from that corner window a +huge gilded tooth, a molar with enormous prongs, something gorgeous and +attractive. He would have it some day, on that he was resolved; but as +yet such a thing was far beyond his means. + +When he had finished the last of his beer, McTeague slowly wiped his +lips and huge yellow mustache with the side of his hand. Bull-like, he +heaved himself laboriously up, and, going to the window, stood looking +down into the street. + +The street never failed to interest him. It was one of those cross +streets peculiar to Western cities, situated in the heart of the +residence quarter, but occupied by small tradespeople who lived in the +rooms above their shops. There were corner drug stores with huge jars +of red, yellow, and green liquids in their windows, very brave and gay; +stationers' stores, where illustrated weeklies were tacked upon bulletin +boards; barber shops with cigar stands in their vestibules; sad-looking +plumbers' offices; cheap restaurants, in whose windows one saw piles of +unopened oysters weighted down by cubes of ice, and china pigs and cows +knee deep in layers of white beans. At one end of the street McTeague +could see the huge power-house of the cable line. Immediately opposite +him was a great market; while farther on, over the chimney stacks of the +intervening houses, the glass roof of some huge public baths glittered +like crystal in the afternoon sun. Underneath him the branch post-office +was opening its doors, as was its custom between two and three +o'clock on Sunday afternoons. An acrid odor of ink rose upward to him. +Occasionally a cable car passed, trundling heavily, with a strident +whirring of jostled glass windows. + +On week days the street was very lively. It woke to its work about seven +o'clock, at the time when the newsboys made their appearance together +with the day laborers. The laborers went trudging past in a straggling +file--plumbers' apprentices, their pockets stuffed with sections of +lead pipe, tweezers, and pliers; carpenters, carrying nothing but their +little pasteboard lunch baskets painted to imitate leather; gangs of +street workers, their overalls soiled with yellow clay, their picks and +long-handled shovels over their shoulders; plasterers, spotted with lime +from head to foot. This little army of workers, tramping steadily in +one direction, met and mingled with other toilers of a different +description--conductors and "swing men" of the cable company going on +duty; heavy-eyed night clerks from the drug stores on their way home to +sleep; roundsmen returning to the precinct police station to make their +night report, and Chinese market gardeners teetering past under their +heavy baskets. The cable cars began to fill up; all along the street +could be seen the shopkeepers taking down their shutters. + +Between seven and eight the street breakfasted. Now and then a waiter +from one of the cheap restaurants crossed from one sidewalk to the +other, balancing on one palm a tray covered with a napkin. Everywhere +was the smell of coffee and of frying steaks. A little later, following +in the path of the day laborers, came the clerks and shop girls, +dressed with a certain cheap smartness, always in a hurry, glancing +apprehensively at the power-house clock. Their employers followed +an hour or so later--on the cable cars for the most part whiskered +gentlemen with huge stomachs, reading the morning papers with great +gravity; bank cashiers and insurance clerks with flowers in their +buttonholes. + +At the same time the school children invaded the street, filling the air +with a clamor of shrill voices, stopping at the stationers' shops, or +idling a moment in the doorways of the candy stores. For over half an +hour they held possession of the sidewalks, then suddenly disappeared, +leaving behind one or two stragglers who hurried along with great +strides of their little thin legs, very anxious and preoccupied. + +Towards eleven o'clock the ladies from the great avenue a block above +Polk Street made their appearance, promenading the sidewalks leisurely, +deliberately. They were at their morning's marketing. They were handsome +women, beautifully dressed. They knew by name their butchers and grocers +and vegetable men. From his window McTeague saw them in front of the +stalls, gloved and veiled and daintily shod, the subservient provision +men at their elbows, scribbling hastily in the order books. They all +seemed to know one another, these grand ladies from the fashionable +avenue. Meetings took place here and there; a conversation was begun; +others arrived; groups were formed; little impromptu receptions were +held before the chopping blocks of butchers' stalls, or on the sidewalk, +around boxes of berries and fruit. + +From noon to evening the population of the street was of a mixed +character. The street was busiest at that time; a vast and prolonged +murmur arose--the mingled shuffling of feet, the rattle of wheels, the +heavy trundling of cable cars. At four o'clock the school children +once more swarmed the sidewalks, again disappearing with surprising +suddenness. At six the great homeward march commenced; the cars were +crowded, the laborers thronged the sidewalks, the newsboys chanted the +evening papers. Then all at once the street fell quiet; hardly a soul +was in sight; the sidewalks were deserted. It was supper hour. Evening +began; and one by one a multitude of lights, from the demoniac glare of +the druggists' windows to the dazzling blue whiteness of the electric +globes, grew thick from street corner to street corner. Once more the +street was crowded. Now there was no thought but for amusement. The +cable cars were loaded with theatre-goers--men in high hats and +young girls in furred opera cloaks. On the sidewalks were groups and +couples--the plumbers' apprentices, the girls of the ribbon counters, +the little families that lived on the second stories over their shops, +the dressmakers, the small doctors, the harness-makers--all the various +inhabitants of the street were abroad, strolling idly from shop window +to shop window, taking the air after the day's work. Groups of girls +collected on the corners, talking and laughing very loud, making remarks +upon the young men that passed them. The tamale men appeared. A band of +Salvationists began to sing before a saloon. + +Then, little by little, Polk Street dropped back to solitude. Eleven +o'clock struck from the power-house clock. Lights were extinguished. At +one o'clock the cable stopped, leaving an abrupt silence in the air. +All at once it seemed very still. The ugly noises were the occasional +footfalls of a policeman and the persistent calling of ducks and geese +in the closed market. The street was asleep. + +Day after day, McTeague saw the same panorama unroll itself. The bay +window of his "Dental Parlors" was for him a point of vantage from which +he watched the world go past. + +On Sundays, however, all was changed. As he stood in the bay window, +after finishing his beer, wiping his lips, and looking out into the +street, McTeague was conscious of the difference. Nearly all the stores +were closed. No wagons passed. A few people hurried up and down the +sidewalks, dressed in cheap Sunday finery. A cable car went by; on the +outside seats were a party of returning picnickers. The mother, the +father, a young man, and a young girl, and three children. The two older +people held empty lunch baskets in their laps, while the bands of the +children's hats were stuck full of oak leaves. The girl carried a huge +bunch of wilting poppies and wild flowers. + +As the car approached McTeague's window the young man got up and swung +himself off the platform, waving goodby to the party. Suddenly McTeague +recognized him. + +"There's Marcus Schouler," he muttered behind his mustache. + +Marcus Schouler was the dentist's one intimate friend. The acquaintance +had begun at the car conductors' coffee-joint, where the two occupied +the same table and met at every meal. Then they made the discovery that +they both lived in the same flat, Marcus occupying a room on the floor +above McTeague. On different occasions McTeague had treated Marcus for +an ulcerated tooth and had refused to accept payment. Soon it came to be +an understood thing between them. They were "pals." + +McTeague, listening, heard Marcus go up-stairs to his room above. In a +few minutes his door opened again. McTeague knew that he had come out +into the hall and was leaning over the banisters. + +"Oh, Mac!" he called. McTeague came to his door. + +"Hullo! 'sthat you, Mark?" + +"Sure," answered Marcus. "Come on up." + +"You come on down." + +"No, come on up." + +"Oh, you come on down." + +"Oh, you lazy duck!" retorted Marcus, coming down the stairs. + +"Been out to the Cliff House on a picnic," he explained as he sat down +on the bed-lounge, "with my uncle and his people--the Sieppes, you know. +By damn! it was hot," he suddenly vociferated. "Just look at that! Just +look at that!" he cried, dragging at his limp collar. "That's the third +one since morning; it is--it is, for a fact--and you got your stove +going." He began to tell about the picnic, talking very loud and fast, +gesturing furiously, very excited over trivial details. Marcus could not +talk without getting excited. + +"You ought t'have seen, y'ought t'have seen. I tell you, it was outa +sight. It was; it was, for a fact." + +"Yes, yes," answered McTeague, bewildered, trying to follow. "Yes, +that's so." + +In recounting a certain dispute with an awkward bicyclist, in which it +appeared he had become involved, Marcus quivered with rage. "'Say that +again,' says I to um. 'Just say that once more, and'"--here a rolling +explosion of oaths--"'you'll go back to the city in the Morgue wagon. +Ain't I got a right to cross a street even, I'd like to know, without +being run down--what?' I say it's outrageous. I'd a knifed him in +another minute. It was an outrage. I say it was an OUTRAGE." + +"Sure it was," McTeague hastened to reply. "Sure, sure." + +"Oh, and we had an accident," shouted the other, suddenly off on another +tack. "It was awful. Trina was in the swing there--that's my cousin +Trina, you know who I mean--and she fell out. By damn! I thought she'd +killed herself; struck her face on a rock and knocked out a front tooth. +It's a wonder she didn't kill herself. It IS a wonder; it is, for a +fact. Ain't it, now? Huh? Ain't it? Y'ought t'have seen." + +McTeague had a vague idea that Marcus Schouler was stuck on his cousin +Trina. They "kept company" a good deal; Marcus took dinner with the +Sieppes every Saturday evening at their home at B Street station, across +the bay, and Sunday afternoons he and the family usually made little +excursions into the suburbs. McTeague began to wonder dimly how it +was that on this occasion Marcus had not gone home with his cousin. As +sometimes happens, Marcus furnished the explanation upon the instant. + +"I promised a duck up here on the avenue I'd call for his dog at four +this afternoon." + +Marcus was Old Grannis's assistant in a little dog hospital that the +latter had opened in a sort of alley just off Polk Street, some four +blocks above Old Grannis lived in one of the back rooms of McTeague's +flat. He was an Englishman and an expert dog surgeon, but Marcus +Schouler was a bungler in the profession. His father had been a +veterinary surgeon who had kept a livery stable near by, on California +Street, and Marcus's knowledge of the diseases of domestic animals had +been picked up in a haphazard way, much after the manner of McTeague's +education. Somehow he managed to impress Old Grannis, a gentle, +simple-minded old man, with a sense of his fitness, bewildering him with +a torrent of empty phrases that he delivered with fierce gestures and +with a manner of the greatest conviction. + +"You'd better come along with me, Mac," observed Marcus. "We'll get the +duck's dog, and then we'll take a little walk, huh? You got nothun to +do. Come along." + +McTeague went out with him, and the two friends proceeded up to the +avenue to the house where the dog was to be found. It was a huge +mansion-like place, set in an enormous garden that occupied a whole +third of the block; and while Marcus tramped up the front steps and rang +the doorbell boldly, to show his independence, McTeague remained below +on the sidewalk, gazing stupidly at the curtained windows, the marble +steps, and the bronze griffins, troubled and a little confused by all +this massive luxury. + +After they had taken the dog to the hospital and had left him to whimper +behind the wire netting, they returned to Polk Street and had a glass of +beer in the back room of Joe Frenna's corner grocery. + +Ever since they had left the huge mansion on the avenue, Marcus had been +attacking the capitalists, a class which he pretended to execrate. It +was a pose which he often assumed, certain of impressing the dentist. +Marcus had picked up a few half-truths of political economy--it was +impossible to say where--and as soon as the two had settled themselves +to their beer in Frenna's back room he took up the theme of the labor +question. He discussed it at the top of his voice, vociferating, shaking +his fists, exciting himself with his own noise. He was continually +making use of the stock phrases of the professional politician--phrases +he had caught at some of the ward "rallies" and "ratification meetings." +These rolled off his tongue with incredible emphasis, appearing at every +turn of his conversation--"Outraged constituencies," "cause of labor," +"wage earners," "opinions biased by personal interests," "eyes blinded +by party prejudice." McTeague listened to him, awestruck. + +"There's where the evil lies," Marcus would cry. "The masses must learn +self-control; it stands to reason. Look at the figures, look at the +figures. Decrease the number of wage earners and you increase wages, +don't you? don't you?" + +Absolutely stupid, and understanding never a word, McTeague would +answer: + +"Yes, yes, that's it--self-control--that's the word." + +"It's the capitalists that's ruining the cause of labor," shouted +Marcus, banging the table with his fist till the beer glasses danced; +"white-livered drones, traitors, with their livers white as snow, eatun +the bread of widows and orphuns; there's where the evil lies." + +Stupefied with his clamor, McTeague answered, wagging his head: + +"Yes, that's it; I think it's their livers." + +Suddenly Marcus fell calm again, forgetting his pose all in an instant. + +"Say, Mac, I told my cousin Trina to come round and see you about that +tooth of her's. She'll be in to-morrow, I guess." + + + +CHAPTER 2 + + +After his breakfast the following Monday morning, McTeague looked over +the appointments he had written down in the book-slate that hung against +the screen. His writing was immense, very clumsy, and very round, with +huge, full-bellied l's and h's. He saw that he had made an appointment +at one o'clock for Miss Baker, the retired dressmaker, a little old maid +who had a tiny room a few doors down the hall. It adjoined that of Old +Grannis. + +Quite an affair had arisen from this circumstance. Miss Baker and Old +Grannis were both over sixty, and yet it was current talk amongst +the lodgers of the flat that the two were in love with each other. +Singularly enough, they were not even acquaintances; never a word had +passed between them. At intervals they met on the stairway; he on his +way to his little dog hospital, she returning from a bit of marketing +in the street. At such times they passed each other with averted +eyes, pretending a certain preoccupation, suddenly seized with a great +embarrassment, the timidity of a second childhood. He went on about his +business, disturbed and thoughtful. She hurried up to her tiny room, +her curious little false curls shaking with her agitation, the faintest +suggestion of a flush coming and going in her withered cheeks. The +emotion of one of these chance meetings remained with them during all +the rest of the day. + +Was it the first romance in the lives of each? Did Old Grannis ever +remember a certain face amongst those that he had known when he was +young Grannis--the face of some pale-haired girl, such as one sees in +the old cathedral towns of England? Did Miss Baker still treasure up +in a seldom opened drawer or box some faded daguerreotype, some strange +old-fashioned likeness, with its curling hair and high stock? It was +impossible to say. + +Maria Macapa, the Mexican woman who took care of the lodgers' rooms, had +been the first to call the flat's attention to the affair, spreading the +news of it from room to room, from floor to floor. Of late she had made +a great discovery; all the women folk of the flat were yet vibrant with +it. Old Grannis came home from his work at four o'clock, and between +that time and six Miss Baker would sit in her room, her hands idle in +her lap, doing nothing, listening, waiting. Old Grannis did the same, +drawing his arm-chair near to the wall, knowing that Miss Baker was upon +the other side, conscious, perhaps, that she was thinking of him; and +there the two would sit through the hours of the afternoon, listening +and waiting, they did not know exactly for what, but near to each other, +separated only by the thin partition of their rooms. They had come +to know each other's habits. Old Grannis knew that at quarter of five +precisely Miss Baker made a cup of tea over the oil stove on the stand +between the bureau and the window. Miss Baker felt instinctively the +exact moment when Old Grannis took down his little binding apparatus +from the second shelf of his clothes closet and began his favorite +occupation of binding pamphlets--pamphlets that he never read, for all +that. + +In his "Parlors" McTeague began his week's work. He glanced in the glass +saucer in which he kept his sponge-gold, and noticing that he had +used up all his pellets, set about making some more. In examining Miss +Baker's teeth at the preliminary sitting he had found a cavity in one +of the incisors. Miss Baker had decided to have it filled with gold. +McTeague remembered now that it was what is called a "proximate case," +where there is not sufficient room to fill with large pieces of gold. He +told himself that he should have to use "mats" in the filling. He made +some dozen of these "mats" from his tape of non-cohesive gold, cutting +it transversely into small pieces that could be inserted edgewise +between the teeth and consolidated by packing. After he had made his +"mats" he continued with the other kind of gold fillings, such as he +would have occasion to use during the week; "blocks" to be used in large +proximal cavities, made by folding the tape on itself a number of +times and then shaping it with the soldering pliers; "cylinders" for +commencing fillings, which he formed by rolling the tape around a needle +called a "broach," cutting it afterwards into different lengths. He +worked slowly, mechanically, turning the foil between his fingers with +the manual dexterity that one sometimes sees in stupid persons. His head +was quite empty of all thought, and he did not whistle over his work +as another man might have done. The canary made up for his silence, +trilling and chittering continually, splashing about in its morning +bath, keeping up an incessant noise and movement that would have been +maddening to any one but McTeague, who seemed to have no nerves at all. + +After he had finished his fillings, he made a hook broach from a bit of +piano wire to replace an old one that he had lost. It was time for his +dinner then, and when he returned from the car conductors' coffee-joint, +he found Miss Baker waiting for him. + +The ancient little dressmaker was at all times willing to talk of Old +Grannis to anybody that would listen, quite unconscious of the gossip +of the flat. McTeague found her all a-flutter with excitement. Something +extraordinary had happened. She had found out that the wall-paper in Old +Grannis's room was the same as that in hers. + +"It has led me to thinking, Doctor McTeague," she exclaimed, shaking her +little false curls at him. "You know my room is so small, anyhow, and +the wall-paper being the same--the pattern from my room continues right +into his--I declare, I believe at one time that was all one room. Think +of it, do you suppose it was? It almost amounts to our occupying the +same room. I don't know--why, really--do you think I should speak to the +landlady about it? He bound pamphlets last night until half-past nine. +They say that he's the younger son of a baronet; that there are reasons +for his not coming to the title; his stepfather wronged him cruelly." + +No one had ever said such a thing. It was preposterous to imagine any +mystery connected with Old Grannis. Miss Baker had chosen to invent the +little fiction, had created the title and the unjust stepfather from +some dim memories of the novels of her girlhood. + +She took her place in the operating chair. McTeague began the filling. +There was a long silence. It was impossible for McTeague to work and +talk at the same time. + +He was just burnishing the last "mat" in Miss Baker's tooth, when the +door of the "Parlors" opened, jangling the bell which he had hung over +it, and which was absolutely unnecessary. McTeague turned, one foot on +the pedal of his dental engine, the corundum disk whirling between his +fingers. + +It was Marcus Schouler who came in, ushering a young girl of about +twenty. + +"Hello, Mac," exclaimed Marcus; "busy? Brought my cousin round about +that broken tooth." + +McTeague nodded his head gravely. + +"In a minute," he answered. + +Marcus and his cousin Trina sat down in the rigid chairs underneath the +steel engraving of the Court of Lorenzo de' Medici. They began talking +in low tones. The girl looked about the room, noticing the stone pug +dog, the rifle manufacturer's calendar, the canary in its little gilt +prison, and the tumbled blankets on the unmade bed-lounge against +the wall. Marcus began telling her about McTeague. "We're pals," he +explained, just above a whisper. "Ah, Mac's all right, you bet. Say, +Trina, he's the strongest duck you ever saw. What do you suppose? He can +pull out your teeth with his fingers; yes, he can. What do you think of +that? With his fingers, mind you; he can, for a fact. Get on to the size +of him, anyhow. Ah, Mac's all right!" + +Maria Macapa had come into the room while he had been speaking. She was +making up McTeague's bed. Suddenly Marcus exclaimed under his breath: +"Now we'll have some fun. It's the girl that takes care of the rooms. +She's a greaser, and she's queer in the head. She ain't regularly crazy, +but I don't know, she's queer. Y'ought to hear her go on about a gold +dinner service she says her folks used to own. Ask her what her name is +and see what she'll say." Trina shrank back, a little frightened. + +"No, you ask," she whispered. + +"Ah, go on; what you 'fraid of?" urged Marcus. Trina shook her head +energetically, shutting her lips together. + +"Well, listen here," answered Marcus, nudging her; then raising his +voice, he said: + +"How do, Maria?" Maria nodded to him over her shoulder as she bent over +the lounge. + +"Workun hard nowadays, Maria?" + +"Pretty hard." + +"Didunt always have to work for your living, though, did you, when you +ate offa gold dishes?" Maria didn't answer, except by putting her chin +in the air and shutting her eyes, as though to say she knew a long story +about that if she had a mind to talk. All Marcus's efforts to draw her +out on the subject were unavailing. She only responded by movements of +her head. + +"Can't always start her going," Marcus told his cousin. + +"What does she do, though, when you ask her about her name?" + +"Oh, sure," said Marcus, who had forgotten. "Say, Maria, what's your +name?" + +"Huh?" asked Maria, straightening up, her hands on he hips. + +"Tell us your name," repeated Marcus. + +"Name is Maria--Miranda--Macapa." Then, after a pause, she added, as +though she had but that moment thought of it, "Had a flying squirrel an' +let him go." + +Invariably Maria Macapa made this answer. It was not always she would +talk about the famous service of gold plate, but a question as to her +name never failed to elicit the same strange answer, delivered in a +rapid undertone: "Name is Maria--Miranda--Macapa." Then, as if struck +with an after thought, "Had a flying squirrel an' let him go." + +Why Maria should associate the release of the mythical squirrel with +her name could not be said. About Maria the flat knew absolutely nothing +further than that she was Spanish-American. Miss Baker was the oldest +lodger in the flat, and Maria was a fixture there as maid of all work +when she had come. There was a legend to the effect that Maria's people +had been at one time immensely wealthy in Central America. + +Maria turned again to her work. Trina and Marcus watched her curiously. +There was a silence. The corundum burr in McTeague's engine hummed in a +prolonged monotone. The canary bird chittered occasionally. The room was +warm, and the breathing of the five people in the narrow space made the +air close and thick. At long intervals an acrid odor of ink floated up +from the branch post-office immediately below. + +Maria Macapa finished her work and started to leave. As she passed near +Marcus and his cousin she stopped, and drew a bunch of blue tickets +furtively from her pocket. "Buy a ticket in the lottery?" she inquired, +looking at the girl. "Just a dollar." + +"Go along with you, Maria," said Marcus, who had but thirty cents in his +pocket. "Go along; it's against the law." + +"Buy a ticket," urged Maria, thrusting the bundle toward Trina. "Try +your luck. The butcher on the next block won twenty dollars the last +drawing." + +Very uneasy, Trina bought a ticket for the sake of being rid of her. +Maria disappeared. + +"Ain't she a queer bird?" muttered Marcus. He was much embarrassed and +disturbed because he had not bought the ticket for Trina. + +But there was a sudden movement. McTeague had just finished with Miss +Baker. + +"You should notice," the dressmaker said to the dentist, in a low voice, +"he always leaves the door a little ajar in the afternoon." When she had +gone out, Marcus Schouler brought Trina forward. + +"Say, Mac, this is my cousin, Trina Sieppe." The two shook hands dumbly, +McTeague slowly nodding his huge head with its great shock of yellow +hair. Trina was very small and prettily made. Her face was round and +rather pale; her eyes long and narrow and blue, like the half-open eyes +of a little baby; her lips and the lobes of her tiny ears were pale, a +little suggestive of anaemia; while across the bridge of her nose ran +an adorable little line of freckles. But it was to her hair that one's +attention was most attracted. Heaps and heaps of blue-black coils and +braids, a royal crown of swarthy bands, a veritable sable tiara, heavy, +abundant, odorous. All the vitality that should have given color to her +face seemed to have been absorbed by this marvellous hair. It was +the coiffure of a queen that shadowed the pale temples of this little +bourgeoise. So heavy was it that it tipped her head backward, and +the position thrust her chin out a little. It was a charming poise, +innocent, confiding, almost infantile. + +She was dressed all in black, very modest and plain. The effect of her +pale face in all this contrasting black was almost monastic. + +"Well," exclaimed Marcus suddenly, "I got to go. Must get back to work. +Don't hurt her too much, Mac. S'long, Trina." + +McTeague and Trina were left alone. He was embarrassed, troubled. +These young girls disturbed and perplexed him. He did not like +them, obstinately cherishing that intuitive suspicion of all things +feminine--the perverse dislike of an overgrown boy. On the other hand, +she was perfectly at her ease; doubtless the woman in her was not yet +awakened; she was yet, as one might say, without sex. She was almost +like a boy, frank, candid, unreserved. + +She took her place in the operating chair and told him what was the +matter, looking squarely into his face. She had fallen out of a swing +the afternoon of the preceding day; one of her teeth had been knocked +loose and the other altogether broken out. + +McTeague listened to her with apparent stolidity, nodding his head from +time to time as she spoke. The keenness of his dislike of her as a woman +began to be blunted. He thought she was rather pretty, that he even +liked her because she was so small, so prettily made, so good natured +and straightforward. + +"Let's have a look at your teeth," he said, picking up his mirror. "You +better take your hat off." She leaned back in her chair and opened her +mouth, showing the rows of little round teeth, as white and even as the +kernels on an ear of green corn, except where an ugly gap came at the +side. + +McTeague put the mirror into her mouth, touching one and another of her +teeth with the handle of an excavator. By and by he straightened up, +wiping the moisture from the mirror on his coat-sleeve. + +"Well, Doctor," said the girl, anxiously, "it's a dreadful +disfigurement, isn't it?" adding, "What can you do about it?" + +"Well," answered McTeague, slowly, looking vaguely about on the floor of +the room, "the roots of the broken tooth are still in the gum; they'll +have to come out, and I guess I'll have to pull that other bicuspid. Let +me look again. Yes," he went on in a moment, peering into her mouth +with the mirror, "I guess that'll have to come out, too." The tooth was +loose, discolored, and evidently dead. "It's a curious case," McTeague +went on. "I don't know as I ever had a tooth like that before. It's +what's called necrosis. It don't often happen. It'll have to come out +sure." + +Then a discussion was opened on the subject, Trina sitting up in the +chair, holding her hat in her lap; McTeague leaning against the window +frame his hands in his pockets, his eyes wandering about on the floor. +Trina did not want the other tooth removed; one hole like that was bad +enough; but two--ah, no, it was not to be thought of. + +But McTeague reasoned with her, tried in vain to make her understand +that there was no vascular connection between the root and the gum. +Trina was blindly persistent, with the persistency of a girl who has +made up her mind. + +McTeague began to like her better and better, and after a while +commenced himself to feel that it would be a pity to disfigure such +a pretty mouth. He became interested; perhaps he could do something, +something in the way of a crown or bridge. "Let's look at that again," +he said, picking up his mirror. He began to study the situation very +carefully, really desiring to remedy the blemish. + +It was the first bicuspid that was missing, and though part of the root +of the second (the loose one) would remain after its extraction, he was +sure it would not be strong enough to sustain a crown. All at once +he grew obstinate, resolving, with all the strength of a crude and +primitive man, to conquer the difficulty in spite of everything. He +turned over in his mind the technicalities of the case. No, evidently +the root was not strong enough to sustain a crown; besides that, it was +placed a little irregularly in the arch. But, fortunately, there were +cavities in the two teeth on either side of the gap--one in the first +molar and one in the palatine surface of the cuspid; might he not drill +a socket in the remaining root and sockets in the molar and cuspid, and, +partly by bridging, partly by crowning, fill in the gap? He made up his +mind to do it. + +Why he should pledge himself to this hazardous case McTeague was puzzled +to know. With most of his clients he would have contented himself with +the extraction of the loose tooth and the roots of the broken one. Why +should he risk his reputation in this case? He could not say why. + +It was the most difficult operation he had ever performed. He bungled +it considerably, but in the end he succeeded passably well. He extracted +the loose tooth with his bayonet forceps and prepared the roots of the +broken one as if for filling, fitting into them a flattened piece of +platinum wire to serve as a dowel. But this was only the beginning; +altogether it was a fortnight's work. Trina came nearly every other day, +and passed two, and even three, hours in the chair. + +By degrees McTeague's first awkwardness and suspicion vanished entirely. +The two became good friends. McTeague even arrived at that point where +he could work and talk to her at the same time--a thing that had never +before been possible for him. + +Never until then had McTeague become so well acquainted with a girl of +Trina's age. The younger women of Polk Street--the shop girls, the +young women of the soda fountains, the waitresses in the cheap +restaurants--preferred another dentist, a young fellow just graduated +from the college, a poser, a rider of bicycles, a man about town, who +wore astonishing waistcoats and bet money on greyhound coursing. Trina +was McTeague's first experience. With her the feminine element suddenly +entered his little world. It was not only her that he saw and felt, +it was the woman, the whole sex, an entire new humanity, strange and +alluring, that he seemed to have discovered. How had he ignored it so +long? It was dazzling, delicious, charming beyond all words. His narrow +point of view was at once enlarged and confused, and all at once he +saw that there was something else in life besides concertinas and steam +beer. Everything had to be made over again. His whole rude idea of +life had to be changed. The male virile desire in him tardily awakened, +aroused itself, strong and brutal. It was resistless, untrained, a thing +not to be held in leash an instant. + +Little by little, by gradual, almost imperceptible degrees, the thought +of Trina Sieppe occupied his mind from day to day, from hour to hour. +He found himself thinking of her constantly; at every instant he saw +her round, pale face; her narrow, milk-blue eyes; her little out-thrust +chin; her heavy, huge tiara of black hair. At night he lay awake for +hours under the thick blankets of the bed-lounge, staring upward +into the darkness, tormented with the idea of her, exasperated at the +delicate, subtle mesh in which he found himself entangled. During the +forenoons, while he went about his work, he thought of her. As he made +his plaster-of-paris moulds at the washstand in the corner behind the +screen he turned over in his mind all that had happened, all that +had been said at the previous sitting. Her little tooth that he had +extracted he kept wrapped in a bit of newspaper in his vest pocket. +Often he took it out and held it in the palm of his immense, horny hand, +seized with some strange elephantine sentiment, wagging his head at it, +heaving tremendous sighs. What a folly! + +At two o'clock on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays Trina arrived and +took her place in the operating chair. While at his work McTeague was +every minute obliged to bend closely over her; his hands touched her +face, her cheeks, her adorable little chin; her lips pressed against his +fingers. She breathed warmly on his forehead and on his eyelids, +while the odor of her hair, a charming feminine perfume, sweet, heavy, +enervating, came to his nostrils, so penetrating, so delicious, that his +flesh pricked and tingled with it; a veritable sensation of faintness +passed over this huge, callous fellow, with his enormous bones and +corded muscles. He drew a short breath through his nose; his jaws +suddenly gripped together vise-like. + +But this was only at times--a strange, vexing spasm, that subsided +almost immediately. For the most part, McTeague enjoyed the pleasure of +these sittings with Trina with a certain strong calmness, blindly happy +that she was there. This poor crude dentist of Polk Street, stupid, +ignorant, vulgar, with his sham education and plebeian tastes, whose +only relaxations were to eat, to drink steam beer, and to play upon his +concertina, was living through his first romance, his first idyl. It +was delightful. The long hours he passed alone with Trina in the "Dental +Parlors," silent, only for the scraping of the instruments and the +pouring of bud-burrs in the engine, in the foul atmosphere, overheated +by the little stove and heavy with the smell of ether, creosote, and +stale bedding, had all the charm of secret appointments and stolen +meetings under the moon. + +By degrees the operation progressed. One day, just after McTeague had +put in the temporary gutta-percha fillings and nothing more could be +done at that sitting, Trina asked him to examine the rest of her teeth. +They were perfect, with one exception--a spot of white caries on the +lateral surface of an incisor. McTeague filled it with gold, enlarging +the cavity with hard-bits and hoe-excavators, and burring in afterward +with half-cone burrs. The cavity was deep, and Trina began to wince and +moan. To hurt Trina was a positive anguish for McTeague, yet an anguish +which he was obliged to endure at every hour of the sitting. It was +harrowing--he sweated under it--to be forced to torture her, of all +women in the world; could anything be worse than that? + +"Hurt?" he inquired, anxiously. + +She answered by frowning, with a sharp intake of breath, putting her +fingers over her closed lips and nodding her head. McTeague sprayed the +tooth with glycerite of tannin, but without effect. Rather than hurt her +he found himself forced to the use of anaesthesia, which he hated. +He had a notion that the nitrous oxide gas was dangerous, so on this +occasion, as on all others, used ether. + +He put the sponge a half dozen times to Trina's face, more nervous than +he had ever been before, watching the symptoms closely. Her breathing +became short and irregular; there was a slight twitching of the muscles. +When her thumbs turned inward toward the palms, he took the sponge away. +She passed off very quickly, and, with a long sigh, sank back into the +chair. + +McTeague straightened up, putting the sponge upon the rack behind him, +his eyes fixed upon Trina's face. For some time he stood watching her as +she lay there, unconscious and helpless, and very pretty. He was alone +with her, and she was absolutely without defense. + +Suddenly the animal in the man stirred and woke; the evil instincts +that in him were so close to the surface leaped to life, shouting and +clamoring. + +It was a crisis--a crisis that had arisen all in an instant; a crisis +for which he was totally unprepared. Blindly, and without knowing +why, McTeague fought against it, moved by an unreasoned instinct of +resistance. Within him, a certain second self, another better McTeague +rose with the brute; both were strong, with the huge crude strength +of the man himself. The two were at grapples. There in that cheap and +shabby "Dental Parlor" a dreaded struggle began. It was the old battle, +old as the world, wide as the world--the sudden panther leap of +the animal, lips drawn, fangs aflash, hideous, monstrous, not to be +resisted, and the simultaneous arousing of the other man, the better +self that cries, "Down, down," without knowing why; that grips the +monster; that fights to strangle it, to thrust it down and back. + +Dizzied and bewildered with the shock, the like of which he had never +known before, McTeague turned from Trina, gazing bewilderedly about the +room. The struggle was bitter; his teeth ground themselves together with +a little rasping sound; the blood sang in his ears; his face flushed +scarlet; his hands twisted themselves together like the knotting of +cables. The fury in him was as the fury of a young bull in the heat of +high summer. But for all that he shook his huge head from time to time, +muttering: + +"No, by God! No, by God!" + +Dimly he seemed to realize that should he yield now he would never be +able to care for Trina again. She would never be the same to him, never +so radiant, so sweet, so adorable; her charm for him would vanish in an +instant. Across her forehead, her little pale forehead, under the shadow +of her royal hair, he would surely see the smudge of a foul ordure, the +footprint of the monster. It would be a sacrilege, an abomination. He +recoiled from it, banding all his strength to the issue. + +"No, by God! No, by God!" + +He turned to his work, as if seeking a refuge in it. But as he drew near +to her again, the charm of her innocence and helplessness came over +him afresh. It was a final protest against his resolution. Suddenly he +leaned over and kissed her, grossly, full on the mouth. The thing was +done before he knew it. Terrified at his weakness at the very moment he +believed himself strong, he threw himself once more into his work with +desperate energy. By the time he was fastening the sheet of rubber upon +the tooth, he had himself once more in hand. He was disturbed, still +trembling, still vibrating with the throes of the crisis, but he was the +master; the animal was downed, was cowed for this time, at least. + +But for all that, the brute was there. Long dormant, it was now at last +alive, awake. From now on he would feel its presence continually; would +feel it tugging at its chain, watching its opportunity. Ah, the pity +of it! Why could he not always love her purely, cleanly? What was this +perverse, vicious thing that lived within him, knitted to his flesh? + +Below the fine fabric of all that was good in him ran the foul stream of +hereditary evil, like a sewer. The vices and sins of his father and +of his father's father, to the third and fourth and five hundredth +generation, tainted him. The evil of an entire race flowed in his veins. +Why should it be? He did not desire it. Was he to blame? + +But McTeague could not understand this thing. It had faced him, as +sooner or later it faces every child of man; but its significance was +not for him. To reason with it was beyond him. He could only oppose to +it an instinctive stubborn resistance, blind, inert. + +McTeague went on with his work. As he was rapping in the little blocks +and cylinders with the mallet, Trina slowly came back to herself with a +long sigh. She still felt a little confused, and lay quiet in the chair. +There was a long silence, broken only by the uneven tapping of the +hardwood mallet. By and by she said, "I never felt a thing," and then +she smiled at him very prettily beneath the rubber dam. McTeague turned +to her suddenly, his mallet in one hand, his pliers holding a pellet +of sponge-gold in the other. All at once he said, with the unreasoned +simplicity and directness of a child: "Listen here, Miss Trina, I +like you better than any one else; what's the matter with us getting +married?" + +Trina sat up in the chair quickly, and then drew back from him, +frightened and bewildered. + +"Will you? Will you?" said McTeague. "Say, Miss Trina, will you?" + +"What is it? What do you mean?" she cried, confusedly, her words muffled +beneath the rubber. + +"Will you?" repeated McTeague. + +"No, no," she exclaimed, refusing without knowing why, suddenly seized +with a fear of him, the intuitive feminine fear of the male. McTeague +could only repeat the same thing over and over again. Trina, more +and more frightened at his huge hands--the hands of the old-time +car-boy--his immense square-cut head and his enormous brute strength, +cried out: "No, no," behind the rubber dam, shaking her head violently, +holding out her hands, and shrinking down before him in the operating +chair. McTeague came nearer to her, repeating the same question. "No, +no," she cried, terrified. Then, as she exclaimed, "Oh, I am sick," +was suddenly taken with a fit of vomiting. It was the not unusual +after effect of the ether, aided now by her excitement and nervousness. +McTeague was checked. He poured some bromide of potassium into a +graduated glass and held it to her lips. + +"Here, swallow this," he said. + + + +CHAPTER 3 + + +Once every two months Maria Macapa set the entire flat in commotion. +She roamed the building from garret to cellar, searching each corner, +ferreting through every old box and trunk and barrel, groping about +on the top shelves of closets, peering into rag-bags, exasperating the +lodgers with her persistence and importunity. She was collecting +junks, bits of iron, stone jugs, glass bottles, old sacks, and cast-off +garments. It was one of her perquisites. She sold the junk to Zerkow, +the rags-bottles-sacks man, who lived in a filthy den in the alley just +back of the flat, and who sometimes paid her as much as three cents +a pound. The stone jugs, however, were worth a nickel. The money that +Zerkow paid her, Maria spent on shirt waists and dotted blue neckties, +trying to dress like the girls who tended the soda-water fountain in the +candy store on the corner. She was sick with envy of these young women. +They were in the world, they were elegant, they were debonair, they had +their "young men." + +On this occasion she presented herself at the door of Old Grannis's room +late in the afternoon. His door stood a little open. That of Miss Baker +was ajar a few inches. The two old people were "keeping company" after +their fashion. + +"Got any junk, Mister Grannis?" inquired Maria, standing in the door, a +very dirty, half-filled pillowcase over one arm. + +"No, nothing--nothing that I can think of, Maria," replied Old Grannis, +terribly vexed at the interruption, yet not wishing to be unkind. +"Nothing I think of. Yet, however--perhaps--if you wish to look." + +He sat in the middle of the room before a small pine table. His +little binding apparatus was before him. In his fingers was a huge +upholsterer's needle threaded with twine, a brad-awl lay at his elbow, +on the floor beside him was a great pile of pamphlets, the pages uncut. +Old Grannis bought the "Nation" and the "Breeder and Sportsman." In the +latter he occasionally found articles on dogs which interested him. The +former he seldom read. He could not afford to subscribe regularly to +either of the publications, but purchased their back numbers by the +score, almost solely for the pleasure he took in binding them. + +"What you alus sewing up them books for, Mister Grannis?" asked Maria, +as she began rummaging about in Old Grannis's closet shelves. "There's +just hundreds of 'em in here on yer shelves; they ain't no good to you." + +"Well, well," answered Old Grannis, timidly, rubbing his chin, "I--I'm +sure I can't quite say; a little habit, you know; a diversion, a--a--it +occupies one, you know. I don't smoke; it takes the place of a pipe, +perhaps." + +"Here's this old yellow pitcher," said Maria, coming out of the closet +with it in her hand. "The handle's cracked; you don't want it; better +give me it." + +Old Grannis did want the pitcher; true, he never used it now, but he +had kept it a long time, and somehow he held to it as old people hold to +trivial, worthless things that they have had for many years. + +"Oh, that pitcher--well, Maria, I--I don't know. I'm afraid--you see, +that pitcher----" + +"Ah, go 'long," interrupted Maria Macapa, "what's the good of it?" + +"If you insist, Maria, but I would much rather--" he rubbed his chin, +perplexed and annoyed, hating to refuse, and wishing that Maria were +gone. + +"Why, what's the good of it?" persisted Maria. He could give no +sufficient answer. "That's all right," she asserted, carrying the +pitcher out. + +"Ah--Maria--I say, you--you might leave the door--ah, don't quite shut +it--it's a bit close in here at times." Maria grinned, and swung the +door wide. Old Grannis was horribly embarrassed; positively, Maria was +becoming unbearable. + +"Got any junk?" cried Maria at Miss Baker's door. The little old lady +was sitting close to the wall in her rocking-chair; her hands resting +idly in her lap. + +"Now, Maria," she said plaintively, "you are always after junk; you know +I never have anything laying 'round like that." + +It was true. The retired dressmaker's tiny room was a marvel of +neatness, from the little red table, with its three Gorham spoons laid +in exact parallels, to the decorous geraniums and mignonettes growing +in the starch box at the window, underneath the fish globe with its +one venerable gold fish. That day Miss Baker had been doing a bit of +washing; two pocket handkerchiefs, still moist, adhered to the window +panes, drying in the sun. + +"Oh, I guess you got something you don't want," Maria went on, peering +into the corners of the room. "Look-a-here what Mister Grannis gi' +me," and she held out the yellow pitcher. Instantly Miss Baker was in a +quiver of confusion. Every word spoken aloud could be perfectly heard in +the next room. What a stupid drab was this Maria! Could anything be more +trying than this position? + +"Ain't that right, Mister Grannis?" called Maria; "didn't you gi' me +this pitcher?" Old Grannis affected not to hear; perspiration stood on +his forehead; his timidity overcame him as if he were a ten-year-old +schoolboy. He half rose from his chair, his fingers dancing nervously +upon his chin. + +Maria opened Miss Baker's closet unconcernedly. "What's the matter with +these old shoes?" she exclaimed, turning about with a pair of half-worn +silk gaiters in her hand. They were by no means old enough to throw +away, but Miss Baker was almost beside herself. There was no telling +what might happen next. Her only thought was to be rid of Maria. + +"Yes, yes, anything. You can have them; but go, go. There's nothing +else, not a thing." + +Maria went out into the hall, leaving Miss Baker's door wide open, as +if maliciously. She had left the dirty pillow-case on the floor in the +hall, and she stood outside, between the two open doors, stowing away +the old pitcher and the half-worn silk shoes. She made remarks at the +top of her voice, calling now to Miss Baker, now to Old Grannis. In a +way she brought the two old people face to face. Each time they were +forced to answer her questions it was as if they were talking directly +to each other. + +"These here are first-rate shoes, Miss Baker. Look here, Mister Grannis, +get on to the shoes Miss Baker gi' me. You ain't got a pair you don't +want, have you? You two people have less junk than any one else in the +flat. How do you manage, Mister Grannis? You old bachelors are just like +old maids, just as neat as pins. You two are just alike--you and Mister +Grannis--ain't you, Miss Baker?" + +Nothing could have been more horribly constrained, more awkward. The two +old people suffered veritable torture. When Maria had gone, each heaved +a sigh of unspeakable relief. Softly they pushed to their doors, leaving +open a space of half a dozen inches. Old Grannis went back to his +binding. Miss Baker brewed a cup of tea to quiet her nerves. Each tried +to regain their composure, but in vain. Old Grannis's fingers trembled +so that he pricked them with his needle. Miss Baker dropped her spoon +twice. Their nervousness would not wear off. They were perturbed, upset. +In a word, the afternoon was spoiled. + +Maria went on about the flat from room to room. She had already paid +Marcus Schouler a visit early that morning before he had gone out. +Marcus had sworn at her, excitedly vociferating; "No, by damn! No, +he hadn't a thing for her; he hadn't, for a fact. It was a positive +persecution. Every day his privacy was invaded. He would complain to the +landlady, he would. He'd move out of the place." In the end he had given +Maria seven empty whiskey flasks, an iron grate, and ten cents--the +latter because he said she wore her hair like a girl he used to know. + +After coming from Miss Baker's room Maria knocked at McTeague's door. +The dentist was lying on the bed-lounge in his stocking feet, doing +nothing apparently, gazing up at the ceiling, lost in thought. + +Since he had spoken to Trina Sieppe, asking her so abruptly to marry +him, McTeague had passed a week of torment. For him there was no going +back. It was Trina now, and none other. It was all one with him that his +best friend, Marcus, might be in love with the same girl. He must +have Trina in spite of everything; he would have her even in spite of +herself. He did not stop to reflect about the matter; he followed his +desire blindly, recklessly, furious and raging at every obstacle. And +she had cried "No, no!" back at him; he could not forget that. She, so +small and pale and delicate, had held him at bay, who was so huge, so +immensely strong. + +Besides that, all the charm of their intimacy was gone. After that +unhappy sitting, Trina was no longer frank and straight-forward. Now she +was circumspect, reserved, distant. He could no longer open his mouth; +words failed him. At one sitting in particular they had said but +good-day and good-by to each other. He felt that he was clumsy and +ungainly. He told himself that she despised him. + +But the memory of her was with him constantly. Night after night he +lay broad awake thinking of Trina, wondering about her, racked with the +infinite desire of her. His head burnt and throbbed. The palms of his +hands were dry. He dozed and woke, and walked aimlessly about the dark +room, bruising himself against the three chairs drawn up "at attention" +under the steel engraving, and stumbling over the stone pug dog that sat +in front of the little stove. + +Besides this, the jealousy of Marcus Schouler harassed him. Maria +Macapa, coming into his "Parlor" to ask for junk, found him flung at +length upon the bed-lounge, gnawing at his fingers in an excess of +silent fury. At lunch that day Marcus had told him of an excursion that +was planned for the next Sunday afternoon. Mr. Sieppe, Trina's father, +belonged to a rifle club that was to hold a meet at Schuetzen Park +across the bay. All the Sieppes were going; there was to be a basket +picnic. Marcus, as usual, was invited to be one of the party. McTeague +was in agony. It was his first experience, and he suffered all the worse +for it because he was totally unprepared. What miserable complication +was this in which he found himself involved? It seemed so simple to +him since he loved Trina to take her straight to himself, stopping at +nothing, asking no questions, to have her, and by main strength to carry +her far away somewhere, he did not know exactly where, to some vague +country, some undiscovered place where every day was Sunday. + +"Got any junk?" + +"Huh? What? What is it?" exclaimed McTeague, suddenly rousing up from +the lounge. Often Maria did very well in the "Dental Parlors." McTeague +was continually breaking things which he was too stupid to have mended; +for him anything that was broken was lost. Now it was a cuspidor, now a +fire-shovel for the little stove, now a China shaving mug. + +"Got any junk?" + +"I don't know--I don't remember," muttered McTeague. Maria roamed about +the room, McTeague following her in his huge stockinged feet. All at +once she pounced upon a sheaf of old hand instruments in a coverless +cigar-box, pluggers, hard bits, and excavators. Maria had long coveted +such a find in McTeague's "Parlor," knowing it should be somewhere +about. The instruments were of the finest tempered steel and really +valuable. + +"Say, Doctor, I can have these, can't I?" exclaimed Maria. "You got no +more use for them." McTeague was not at all sure of this. There were +many in the sheaf that might be repaired, reshaped. + +"No, no," he said, wagging his head. But Maria Macapa, knowing with +whom she had to deal, at once let loose a torrent of words. She made +the dentist believe that he had no right to withhold them, that he had +promised to save them for her. She affected a great indignation, pursing +her lips and putting her chin in the air as though wounded in some finer +sense, changing so rapidly from one mood to another, filling the room +with such shrill clamor, that McTeague was dazed and benumbed. + +"Yes, all right, all right," he said, trying to make himself heard. "It +WOULD be mean. I don't want 'em." As he turned from her to pick up +the box, Maria took advantage of the moment to steal three "mats" of +sponge-gold out of the glass saucer. Often she stole McTeague's gold, +almost under his very eyes; indeed, it was so easy to do so that there +was but little pleasure in the theft. Then Maria took herself off. +McTeague returned to the sofa and flung himself upon it face downward. + +A little before supper time Maria completed her search. The flat was +cleaned of its junk from top to bottom. The dirty pillow-case was full +to bursting. She took advantage of the supper hour to carry her bundle +around the corner and up into the alley where Zerkow lived. + +When Maria entered his shop, Zerkow had just come in from his daily +rounds. His decrepit wagon stood in front of his door like a stranded +wreck; the miserable horse, with its lamentable swollen joints, fed +greedily upon an armful of spoiled hay in a shed at the back. + +The interior of the junk shop was dark and damp, and foul with all +manner of choking odors. On the walls, on the floor, and hanging from +the rafters was a world of debris, dust-blackened, rust-corroded. +Everything was there, every trade was represented, every class of +society; things of iron and cloth and wood; all the detritus that a +great city sloughs off in its daily life. Zerkow's junk shop was the +last abiding-place, the almshouse, of such articles as had outlived +their usefulness. + +Maria found Zerkow himself in the back room, cooking some sort of a meal +over an alcohol stove. Zerkow was a Polish Jew--curiously enough his +hair was fiery red. He was a dry, shrivelled old man of sixty odd. He +had the thin, eager, cat-like lips of the covetous; eyes that had grown +keen as those of a lynx from long searching amidst muck and debris; and +claw-like, prehensile fingers--the fingers of a man who accumulates, +but never disburses. It was impossible to look at Zerkow and not know +instantly that greed--inordinate, insatiable greed--was the dominant +passion of the man. He was the Man with the Rake, groping hourly in the +muck-heap of the city for gold, for gold, for gold. It was his dream, +his passion; at every instant he seemed to feel the generous solid +weight of the crude fat metal in his palms. The glint of it was +constantly in his eyes; the jangle of it sang forever in his ears as the +jangling of cymbals. + +"Who is it? Who is it?" exclaimed Zerkow, as he heard Maria's footsteps +in the outer room. His voice was faint, husky, reduced almost to a +whisper by his prolonged habit of street crying. + +"Oh, it's you again, is it?" he added, peering through the gloom of the +shop. "Let's see; you've been here before, ain't you? You're the Mexican +woman from Polk Street. Macapa's your name, hey?" + +Maria nodded. "Had a flying squirrel an' let him go," she muttered, +absently. Zerkow was puzzled; he looked at her sharply for a moment, +then dismissed the matter with a movement of his head. + +"Well, what you got for me?" he said. He left his supper to grow cold, +absorbed at once in the affair. + +Then a long wrangle began. Every bit of junk in Maria's pillow-case +was discussed and weighed and disputed. They clamored into each other's +faces over Old Grannis's cracked pitcher, over Miss Baker's silk +gaiters, over Marcus Schouler's whiskey flasks, reaching the climax of +disagreement when it came to McTeague's instruments. + +"Ah, no, no!" shouted Maria. "Fifteen cents for the lot! I might as well +make you a Christmas present! Besides, I got some gold fillings off him; +look at um." + +Zerkow drew a quick breath as the three pellets suddenly flashed in +Maria's palm. There it was, the virgin metal, the pure, unalloyed +ore, his dream, his consuming desire. His fingers twitched and hooked +themselves into his palms, his thin lips drew tight across his teeth. + +"Ah, you got some gold," he muttered, reaching for it. + +Maria shut her fist over the pellets. "The gold goes with the others," +she declared. "You'll gi' me a fair price for the lot, or I'll take um +back." + +In the end a bargain was struck that satisfied Maria. Zerkow was not one +who would let gold go out of his house. He counted out to her the price +of all her junk, grudging each piece of money as if it had been the +blood of his veins. The affair was concluded. + +But Zerkow still had something to say. As Maria folded up the +pillow-case and rose to go, the old Jew said: + +"Well, see here a minute, we'll--you'll have a drink before you go, +won't you? Just to show that it's all right between us." Maria sat down +again. + +"Yes, I guess I'll have a drink," she answered. + +Zerkow took down a whiskey bottle and a red glass tumbler with a broken +base from a cupboard on the wall. The two drank together, Zerkow from +the bottle, Maria from the broken tumbler. They wiped their lips slowly, +drawing breath again. There was a moment's silence. + +"Say," said Zerkow at last, "how about those gold dishes you told me +about the last time you were here?" + +"What gold dishes?" inquired Maria, puzzled. + +"Ah, you know," returned the other. "The plate your father owned in +Central America a long time ago. Don't you know, it rang like so many +bells? Red gold, you know, like oranges?" + +"Ah," said Maria, putting her chin in the air as if she knew a long +story about that if she had a mind to tell it. "Ah, yes, that gold +service." + +"Tell us about it again," said Zerkow, his bloodless lower lip moving +against the upper, his claw-like fingers feeling about his mouth and +chin. "Tell us about it; go on." + +He was breathing short, his limbs trembled a little. It was as if some +hungry beast of prey had scented a quarry. Maria still refused, putting +up her head, insisting that she had to be going. + +"Let's have it," insisted the Jew. "Take another drink." Maria took +another swallow of the whiskey. "Now, go on," repeated Zerkow; "let's +have the story." Maria squared her elbows on the deal table, looking +straight in front of her with eyes that saw nothing. + +"Well, it was this way," she began. "It was when I was little. My folks +must have been rich, oh, rich into the millions--coffee, I guess--and +there was a large house, but I can only remember the plate. Oh, that +service of plate! It was wonderful. There were more than a hundred +pieces, and every one of them gold. You should have seen the sight when +the leather trunk was opened. It fair dazzled your eyes. It was a yellow +blaze like a fire, like a sunset; such a glory, all piled up together, +one piece over the other. Why, if the room was dark you'd think you +could see just the same with all that glitter there. There wa'n't a +piece that was so much as scratched; every one was like a mirror, smooth +and bright, just like a little pool when the sun shines into it. There +was dinner dishes and soup tureens and pitchers; and great, big platters +as long as that and wide too; and cream-jugs and bowls with carved +handles, all vines and things; and drinking mugs, every one a different +shape; and dishes for gravy and sauces; and then a great, big punch-bowl +with a ladle, and the bowl was all carved out with figures and bunches +of grapes. Why, just only that punch-bowl was worth a fortune, I guess. +When all that plate was set out on a table, it was a sight for a king to +look at. Such a service as that was! Each piece was heavy, oh, so heavy! +and thick, you know; thick, fat gold, nothing but gold--red, shining, +pure gold, orange red--and when you struck it with your knuckle, ah, you +should have heard! No church bell ever rang sweeter or clearer. It +was soft gold, too; you could bite into it, and leave the dent of your +teeth. Oh, that gold plate! I can see it just as plain--solid, solid, +heavy, rich, pure gold; nothing but gold, gold, heaps and heaps of it. +What a service that was!" + +Maria paused, shaking her head, thinking over the vanished splendor. +Illiterate enough, unimaginative enough on all other subjects, her +distorted wits called up this picture with marvellous distinctness. It +was plain she saw the plate clearly. Her description was accurate, was +almost eloquent. + +Did that wonderful service of gold plate ever exist outside of her +diseased imagination? Was Maria actually remembering some reality of a +childhood of barbaric luxury? Were her parents at one time possessed +of an incalculable fortune derived from some Central American +coffee plantation, a fortune long since confiscated by armies of +insurrectionists, or squandered in the support of revolutionary +governments? + +It was not impossible. Of Maria Macapa's past prior to the time of +her appearance at the "flat" absolutely nothing could be learned. She +suddenly appeared from the unknown, a strange woman of a mixed race, +sane on all subjects but that of the famous service of gold plate; but +unusual, complex, mysterious, even at her best. + +But what misery Zerkow endured as he listened to her tale! For he chose +to believe it, forced himself to believe it, lashed and harassed by +a pitiless greed that checked at no tale of treasure, however +preposterous. The story ravished him with delight. He was near someone +who had possessed this wealth. He saw someone who had seen this pile +of gold. He seemed near it; it was there, somewhere close by, under his +eyes, under his fingers; it was red, gleaming, ponderous. He gazed +about him wildly; nothing, nothing but the sordid junk shop and the +rust-corroded tins. What exasperation, what positive misery, to be so +near to it and yet to know that it was irrevocably, irretrievably lost! +A spasm of anguish passed through him. He gnawed at his bloodless lips, +at the hopelessness of it, the rage, the fury of it. + +"Go on, go on," he whispered; "let's have it all over again. Polished +like a mirror, hey, and heavy? Yes, I know, I know. A punch-bowl worth a +fortune. Ah! and you saw it, you had it all!" + +Maria rose to go. Zerkow accompanied her to the door, urging another +drink upon her. + +"Come again, come again," he croaked. "Don't wait till you've got junk; +come any time you feel like it, and tell me more about the plate." + +He followed her a step down the alley. + +"How much do you think it was worth?" he inquired, anxiously. + +"Oh, a million dollars," answered Maria, vaguely. + +When Maria had gone, Zerkow returned to the back room of the shop, and +stood in front of the alcohol stove, looking down into his cold dinner, +preoccupied, thoughtful. + +"A million dollars," he muttered in his rasping, guttural whisper, his +finger-tips wandering over his thin, cat-like lips. "A golden service +worth a million dollars; a punchbowl worth a fortune; red gold plates, +heaps and piles. God!" + + + +CHAPTER 4 + + +The days passed. McTeague had finished the operation on Trina's teeth. +She did not come any more to the "Parlors." Matters had readjusted +themselves a little between the two during the last sittings. Trina yet +stood upon her reserve, and McTeague still felt himself shambling and +ungainly in her presence; but that constraint and embarrassment that +had followed upon McTeague's blundering declaration broke up little by +little. In spite of themselves they were gradually resuming the same +relative positions they had occupied when they had first met. + +But McTeague suffered miserably for all that. He never would have +Trina, he saw that clearly. She was too good for him; too delicate, too +refined, too prettily made for him, who was so coarse, so enormous, so +stupid. She was for someone else--Marcus, no doubt--or at least for some +finer-grained man. She should have gone to some other dentist; the young +fellow on the corner, for instance, the poser, the rider of bicycles, +the courser of grey-hounds. McTeague began to loathe and to envy this +fellow. He spied upon him going in and out of his office, and noted his +salmon-pink neckties and his astonishing waistcoats. + +One Sunday, a few days after Trina's last sitting, McTeague met Marcus +Schouler at his table in the car conductors' coffee-joint, next to the +harness shop. + +"What you got to do this afternoon, Mac?" inquired the other, as they +ate their suet pudding. + +"Nothing, nothing," replied McTeague, shaking his head. His mouth +was full of pudding. It made him warm to eat, and little beads of +perspiration stood across the bridge of his nose. He looked forward +to an afternoon passed in his operating chair as usual. On leaving +his "Parlors" he had put ten cents into his pitcher and had left it at +Frenna's to be filled. + +"What do you say we take a walk, huh?" said Marcus. "Ah, that's the +thing--a walk, a long walk, by damn! It'll be outa sight. I got to take +three or four of the dogs out for exercise, anyhow. Old Grannis thinks +they need ut. We'll walk out to the Presidio." + +Of late it had become the custom of the two friends to take long walks +from time to time. On holidays and on those Sunday afternoons when +Marcus was not absent with the Sieppes they went out together, sometimes +to the park, sometimes to the Presidio, sometimes even across the bay. +They took a great pleasure in each other's company, but silently and +with reservation, having the masculine horror of any demonstration of +friendship. + +They walked for upwards of five hours that afternoon, out the length +of California Street, and across the Presidio Reservation to the Golden +Gate. Then they turned, and, following the line of the shore, brought up +at the Cliff House. Here they halted for beer, Marcus swearing that his +mouth was as dry as a hay-bin. Before starting on their walk they had +gone around to the little dog hospital, and Marcus had let out four of +the convalescents, crazed with joy at the release. + +"Look at that dog," he cried to McTeague, showing him a finely-bred +Irish setter. "That's the dog that belonged to the duck on the avenue, +the dog we called for that day. I've bought 'um. The duck thought he +had the distemper, and just threw 'um away. Nothun wrong with 'um but a +little catarrh. Ain't he a bird? Say, ain't he a bird? Look at his flag; +it's perfect; and see how he carries his tail on a line with his back. +See how stiff and white his whiskers are. Oh, by damn! you can't fool me +on a dog. That dog's a winner." + +At the Cliff House the two sat down to their beer in a quiet corner of +the billiard-room. There were but two players. Somewhere in another part +of the building a mammoth music-box was jangling out a quickstep. From +outside came the long, rhythmical rush of the surf and the sonorous +barking of the seals upon the seal rocks. The four dogs curled +themselves down upon the sanded floor. + +"Here's how," said Marcus, half emptying his glass. "Ah-h!" he added, +with a long breath, "that's good; it is, for a fact." + +For the last hour of their walk Marcus had done nearly all the talking. +McTeague merely answering him by uncertain movements of the head. For +that matter, the dentist had been silent and preoccupied throughout the +whole afternoon. At length Marcus noticed it. As he set down his glass +with a bang he suddenly exclaimed: + +"What's the matter with you these days, Mac? You got a bean about +somethun, hey? Spit ut out." + +"No, no," replied McTeague, looking about on the floor, rolling his +eyes; "nothing, no, no." + +"Ah, rats!" returned the other. McTeague kept silence. The two billiard +players departed. The huge music-box struck into a fresh tune. + +"Huh!" exclaimed Marcus, with a short laugh, "guess you're in love." + +McTeague gasped, and shuffled his enormous feet under the table. + +"Well, somethun's bitun you, anyhow," pursued Marcus. "Maybe I can +help you. We're pals, you know. Better tell me what's up; guess we can +straighten ut out. Ah, go on; spit ut out." + +The situation was abominable. McTeague could not rise to it. Marcus was +his best friend, his only friend. They were "pals" and McTeague was very +fond of him. Yet they were both in love, presumably, with the same girl, +and now Marcus would try and force the secret out of him; would rush +blindly at the rock upon which the two must split, stirred by the very +best of motives, wishing only to be of service. Besides this, there was +nobody to whom McTeague would have better preferred to tell his troubles +than to Marcus, and yet about this trouble, the greatest trouble of his +life, he must keep silent; must refrain from speaking of it to Marcus +above everybody. + +McTeague began dimly to feel that life was too much for him. How had it +all come about? A month ago he was perfectly content; he was calm and +peaceful, taking his little pleasures as he found them. His life had +shaped itself; was, no doubt, to continue always along these same lines. +A woman had entered his small world and instantly there was discord. The +disturbing element had appeared. Wherever the woman had put her foot a +score of distressing complications had sprung up, like the sudden growth +of strange and puzzling flowers. + +"Say, Mac, go on; let's have ut straight," urged Marcus, leaning toward +him. "Has any duck been doing you dirt?" he cried, his face crimson on +the instant. + +"No," said McTeague, helplessly. + +"Come along, old man," persisted Marcus; "let's have ut. What is the +row? I'll do all I can to help you." + +It was more than McTeague could bear. The situation had got beyond +him. Stupidly he spoke, his hands deep in his pockets, his head rolled +forward. + +"It's--it's Miss Sieppe," he said. + +"Trina, my cousin? How do you mean?" inquired Marcus sharply. + +"I--I--I don' know," stammered McTeague, hopelessly confounded. + +"You mean," cried Marcus, suddenly enlightened, "that you are--that you, +too." + +McTeague stirred in his chair, looking at the walls of the room, +avoiding the other's glance. He nodded his head, then suddenly broke +out: + +"I can't help it. It ain't my fault, is it?" + +Marcus was struck dumb; he dropped back in his chair breathless. +Suddenly McTeague found his tongue. + +"I tell you, Mark, I can't help it. I don't know how it happened. It +came on so slow that I was, that--that--that it was done before I knew +it, before I could help myself. I know we're pals, us two, and I knew +how--how you and Miss Sieppe were. I know now, I knew then; but that +wouldn't have made any difference. Before I knew it--it--it--there I +was. I can't help it. I wouldn't 'a' had ut happen for anything, if +I could 'a' stopped it, but I don' know, it's something that's just +stronger than you are, that's all. She came there--Miss Sieppe came to +the parlors there three or four times a week, and she was the first +girl I had ever known,--and you don' know! Why, I was so close to her I +touched her face every minute, and her mouth, and smelt her hair and her +breath--oh, you don't know anything about it. I can't give you any idea. +I don' know exactly myself; I only know how I'm fixed. I--I--it's +been done; it's too late, there's no going back. Why, I can't think +of anything else night and day. It's everything. It's--it's--oh, it's +everything! I--I--why, Mark, it's everything--I can't explain." He made +a helpless movement with both hands. + +Never had McTeague been so excited; never had he made so long a speech. +His arms moved in fierce, uncertain gestures, his face flushed, his +enormous jaws shut together with a sharp click at every pause. It was +like some colossal brute trapped in a delicate, invisible mesh, raging, +exasperated, powerless to extricate himself. + +Marcus Schouler said nothing. There was a long silence. Marcus got up +and walked to the window and stood looking out, but seeing nothing. +"Well, who would have thought of this?" he muttered under his breath. +Here was a fix. Marcus cared for Trina. There was no doubt in his +mind about that. He looked forward eagerly to the Sunday afternoon +excursions. He liked to be with Trina. He, too, felt the charm of the +little girl--the charm of the small, pale forehead; the little chin +thrust out as if in confidence and innocence; the heavy, odorous crown +of black hair. He liked her immensely. Some day he would speak; he would +ask her to marry him. Marcus put off this matter of marriage to some +future period; it would be some time--a year, perhaps, or two. The thing +did not take definite shape in his mind. Marcus "kept company" with his +cousin Trina, but he knew plenty of other girls. For the matter of that, +he liked all girls pretty well. Just now the singleness and strength of +McTeague's passion startled him. McTeague would marry Trina that very +afternoon if she would have him; but would he--Marcus? No, he would not; +if it came to that, no, he would not. Yet he knew he liked Trina. He +could say--yes, he could say--he loved her. She was his "girl." The +Sieppes acknowledged him as Trina's "young man." Marcus came back to the +table and sat down sideways upon it. + +"Well, what are we going to do about it, Mac?" he said. + +"I don' know," answered McTeague, in great distress. "I don' want +anything to--to come between us, Mark." + +"Well, nothun will, you bet!" vociferated the other. "No, sir; you bet +not, Mac." + +Marcus was thinking hard. He could see very clearly that McTeague loved +Trina more than he did; that in some strange way this huge, brutal +fellow was capable of a greater passion than himself, who was twice as +clever. Suddenly Marcus jumped impetuously to a resolution. + +"Well, say, Mac," he cried, striking the table with his fist, "go ahead. +I guess you--you want her pretty bad. I'll pull out; yes, I will. I'll +give her up to you, old man." + +The sense of his own magnanimity all at once overcame Marcus. He saw +himself as another man, very noble, self-sacrificing; he stood apart +and watched this second self with boundless admiration and with infinite +pity. He was so good, so magnificent, so heroic, that he almost sobbed. +Marcus made a sweeping gesture of resignation, throwing out both his +arms, crying: + +"Mac, I'll give her up to you. I won't stand between you." There were +actually tears in Marcus's eyes as he spoke. There was no doubt he +thought himself sincere. At that moment he almost believed he loved +Trina conscientiously, that he was sacrificing himself for the sake of +his friend. The two stood up and faced each other, gripping hands. It +was a great moment; even McTeague felt the drama of it. What a fine +thing was this friendship between men! the dentist treats his friend +for an ulcerated tooth and refuses payment; the friend reciprocates by +giving up his girl. This was nobility. Their mutual affection and esteem +suddenly increased enormously. It was Damon and Pythias; it was David +and Jonathan; nothing could ever estrange them. Now it was for life or +death. + +"I'm much obliged," murmured McTeague. He could think of nothing better +to say. "I'm much obliged," he repeated; "much obliged, Mark." + +"That's all right, that's all right," returned Marcus Schouler, bravely, +and it occurred to him to add, "You'll be happy together. Tell her +for me--tell her---tell her----" Marcus could not go on. He wrung the +dentist's hand silently. + +It had not appeared to either of them that Trina might refuse McTeague. +McTeague's spirits rose at once. In Marcus's withdrawal he fancied he +saw an end to all his difficulties. Everything would come right, after +all. The strained, exalted state of Marcus's nerves ended by putting +him into fine humor as well. His grief suddenly changed to an excess of +gaiety. The afternoon was a success. They slapped each other on the back +with great blows of the open palms, and they drank each other's health +in a third round of beer. + +Ten minutes after his renunciation of Trina Sieppe, Marcus astounded +McTeague with a tremendous feat. + +"Looka here, Mac. I know somethun you can't do. I'll bet you two bits +I'll stump you." They each put a quarter on the table. "Now watch me," +cried Marcus. He caught up a billiard ball from the rack, poised it a +moment in front of his face, then with a sudden, horrifying distension +of his jaws crammed it into his mouth, and shut his lips over it. + +For an instant McTeague was stupefied, his eyes bulging. Then an +enormous laugh shook him. He roared and shouted, swaying in his chair, +slapping his knee. What a josher was this Marcus! Sure, you never could +tell what he would do next. Marcus slipped the ball out, wiped it on the +tablecloth, and passed it to McTeague. + +"Now let's see you do it." + +McTeague fell suddenly grave. The matter was serious. He parted his +thick mustaches and opened his enormous jaws like an anaconda. The ball +disappeared inside his mouth. Marcus applauded vociferously, shouting, +"Good work!" McTeague reached for the money and put it in his vest +pocket, nodding his head with a knowing air. + +Then suddenly his face grew purple, his jaws moved convulsively, he +pawed at his cheeks with both hands. The billiard ball had slipped into +his mouth easily enough; now, however, he could not get it out again. + +It was terrible. The dentist rose to his feet, stumbling about among the +dogs, his face working, his eyes starting. Try as he would, he could not +stretch his jaws wide enough to slip the ball out. Marcus lost his +wits, swearing at the top of his voice. McTeague sweated with terror; +inarticulate sounds came from his crammed mouth; he waved his arms +wildly; all the four dogs caught the excitement and began to bark. A +waiter rushed in, the two billiard players returned, a little crowd +formed. There was a veritable scene. + +All at once the ball slipped out of McTeague's jaws as easily as it had +gone in. What a relief! He dropped into a chair, wiping his forehead, +gasping for breath. + +On the strength of the occasion Marcus Schouler invited the entire group +to drink with him. + +By the time the affair was over and the group dispersed it was after +five. Marcus and McTeague decided they would ride home on the cars. +But they soon found this impossible. The dogs would not follow. Only +Alexander, Marcus's new setter, kept his place at the rear of the car. +The other three lost their senses immediately, running wildly about +the streets with their heads in the air, or suddenly starting off at a +furious gallop directly away from the car. Marcus whistled and shouted +and lathered with rage in vain. The two friends were obliged to walk. +When they finally reached Polk Street, Marcus shut up the three dogs in +the hospital. Alexander he brought back to the flat with him. + +There was a minute back yard in the rear, where Marcus had made a kennel +for Alexander out of an old water barrel. Before he thought of his own +supper Marcus put Alexander to bed and fed him a couple of dog biscuits. +McTeague had followed him to the yard to keep him company. Alexander +settled to his supper at once, chewing vigorously at the biscuit, his +head on one side. + +"What you going to do about this--about that--about--about my cousin +now, Mac?" inquired Marcus. + +McTeague shook his head helplessly. It was dark by now and cold. The +little back yard was grimy and full of odors. McTeague was tired with +their long walk. All his uneasiness about his affair with Trina had +returned. No, surely she was not for him. Marcus or some other man would +win her in the end. What could she ever see to desire in him--in him, a +clumsy giant, with hands like wooden mallets? She had told him once that +she would not marry him. Was that not final? + +"I don' know what to do, Mark," he said. + +"Well, you must make up to her now," answered Marcus. "Go and call on +her." + +McTeague started. He had not thought of calling on her. The idea +frightened him a little. + +"Of course," persisted Marcus, "that's the proper caper. What did you +expect? Did you think you was never going to see her again?" + +"I don' know, I don' know," responded the dentist, looking stupidly at +the dog. + +"You know where they live," continued Marcus Schouler. "Over at B Street +station, across the bay. I'll take you over there whenever you want to +go. I tell you what, we'll go over there Washington's Birthday. That's +this next Wednesday; sure, they'll be glad to see you." It was good of +Marcus. All at once McTeague rose to an appreciation of what his friend +was doing for him. He stammered: + +"Say, Mark--you're--you're all right, anyhow." + +"Why, pshaw!" said Marcus. "That's all right, old man. I'd like to see +you two fixed, that's all. We'll go over Wednesday, sure." + +They turned back to the house. Alexander left off eating and watched +them go away, first with one eye, then with the other. But he was too +self-respecting to whimper. However, by the time the two friends had +reached the second landing on the back stairs a terrible commotion was +under way in the little yard. They rushed to an open window at the end +of the hall and looked down. + +A thin board fence separated the flat's back yard from that used by +the branch post-office. In the latter place lived a collie dog. He and +Alexander had smelt each other out, blowing through the cracks of the +fence at each other. Suddenly the quarrel had exploded on either side of +the fence. The dogs raged at each other, snarling and barking, frantic +with hate. Their teeth gleamed. They tore at the fence with their front +paws. They filled the whole night with their clamor. + +"By damn!" cried Marcus, "they don't love each other. Just listen; +wouldn't that make a fight if the two got together? Have to try it some +day." + + + +CHAPTER 5 + + +Wednesday morning, Washington's Birthday, McTeague rose very early and +shaved himself. Besides the six mournful concertina airs, the dentist +knew one song. Whenever he shaved, he sung this song; never at any other +time. His voice was a bellowing roar, enough to make the window sashes +rattle. Just now he woke up all the lodgers in his hall with it. It was +a lamentable wail: + + "No one to love, none to caress, + Left all alone in this world's wilderness." + +As he paused to strop his razor, Marcus came into his room, +half-dressed, a startling phantom in red flannels. + +Marcus often ran back and forth between his room and the dentist's +"Parlors" in all sorts of undress. Old Miss Baker had seen him thus +several times through her half-open door, as she sat in her room +listening and waiting. The old dressmaker was shocked out of all +expression. She was outraged, offended, pursing her lips, putting up her +head. She talked of complaining to the landlady. "And Mr. Grannis right +next door, too. You can understand how trying it is for both of us." She +would come out in the hall after one of these apparitions, her little +false curls shaking, talking loud and shrill to any one in reach of her +voice. + +"Well," Marcus would shout, "shut your door, then, if you don't want to +see. Look out, now, here I come again. Not even a porous plaster on me +this time." + +On this Wednesday morning Marcus called McTeague out into the hall, to +the head of the stairs that led down to the street door. + +"Come and listen to Maria, Mac," said he. + +Maria sat on the next to the lowest step, her chin propped by her +two fists. The red-headed Polish Jew, the ragman Zerkow, stood in the +doorway. He was talking eagerly. + +"Now, just once more, Maria," he was saying. "Tell it to us just once +more." Maria's voice came up the stairway in a monotone. Marcus and +McTeague caught a phrase from time to time. + +"There were more than a hundred pieces, and every one of them gold--just +that punch-bowl was worth a fortune-thick, fat, red gold." + +"Get onto to that, will you?" observed Marcus. "The old skin has got her +started on the plate. Ain't they a pair for you?" + +"And it rang like bells, didn't it?" prompted Zerkow. + +"Sweeter'n church bells, and clearer." + +"Ah, sweeter'n bells. Wasn't that punch-bowl awful heavy?" + +"All you could do to lift it." + +"I know. Oh, I know," answered Zerkow, clawing at his lips. "Where did +it all go to? Where did it go?" + +Maria shook her head. + +"It's gone, anyhow." + +"Ah, gone, gone! Think of it! The punch-bowl gone, and the engraved +ladle, and the plates and goblets. What a sight it must have been all +heaped together!" + +"It was a wonderful sight." + +"Yes, wonderful; it must have been." + +On the lower steps of that cheap flat, the Mexican woman and the +red-haired Polish Jew mused long over that vanished, half-mythical gold +plate. + +Marcus and the dentist spent Washington's Birthday across the bay. The +journey over was one long agony to McTeague. He shook with a formless, +uncertain dread; a dozen times he would have turned back had not Marcus +been with him. The stolid giant was as nervous as a schoolboy. He +fancied that his call upon Miss Sieppe was an outrageous affront. She +would freeze him with a stare; he would be shown the door, would be +ejected, disgraced. + +As they got off the local train at B Street station they suddenly +collided with the whole tribe of Sieppes--the mother, father, three +children, and Trina--equipped for one of their eternal picnics. They +were to go to Schuetzen Park, within walking distance of the station. +They were grouped about four lunch baskets. One of the children, a +little boy, held a black greyhound by a rope around its neck. Trina wore +a blue cloth skirt, a striped shirt waist, and a white sailor; about her +round waist was a belt of imitation alligator skin. + +At once Mrs. Sieppe began to talk to Marcus. He had written of their +coming, but the picnic had been decided upon after the arrival of his +letter. Mrs. Sieppe explained this to him. She was an immense old lady +with a pink face and wonderful hair, absolutely white. The Sieppes were +a German-Swiss family. + +"We go to der park, Schuetzen Park, mit alle dem childern, a little +eggs-kursion, eh not soh? We breathe der freshes air, a celubration, a +pignic bei der seashore on. Ach, dot wull be soh gay, ah?" + +"You bet it will. It'll be outa sight," cried Marcus, enthusiastic in +an instant. "This is m' friend Doctor McTeague I wrote you about, Mrs. +Sieppe." + +"Ach, der doktor," cried Mrs. Sieppe. + +McTeague was presented, shaking hands gravely as Marcus shouldered him +from one to the other. + +Mr. Sieppe was a little man of a military aspect, full of importance, +taking himself very seriously. He was a member of a rifle team. Over his +shoulder was slung a Springfield rifle, while his breast was decorated +by five bronze medals. + +Trina was delighted. McTeague was dumfounded. She appeared positively +glad to see him. + +"How do you do, Doctor McTeague," she said, smiling at him and shaking +his hand. "It's nice to see you again. Look, see how fine my filling +is." She lifted a corner of her lip and showed him the clumsy gold +bridge. + +Meanwhile, Mr. Sieppe toiled and perspired. Upon him devolved the +responsibility of the excursion. He seemed to consider it a matter of +vast importance, a veritable expedition. + +"Owgooste!" he shouted to the little boy with the black greyhound, "you +will der hound und basket number three carry. Der tervins," he added, +calling to the two smallest boys, who were dressed exactly alike, "will +releef one unudder mit der camp-stuhl und basket number four. Dat +is comprehend, hay? When we make der start, you childern will in der +advance march. Dat is your orders. But we do not start," he exclaimed, +excitedly; "we remain. Ach Gott, Selina, who does not arrive." + +Selina, it appeared, was a niece of Mrs. Sieppe's. They were on the +point of starting without her, when she suddenly arrived, very much out +of breath. She was a slender, unhealthy looking girl, who overworked +herself giving lessons in hand-painting at twenty-five cents an hour. +McTeague was presented. They all began to talk at once, filling the +little station-house with a confusion of tongues. + +"Attention!" cried Mr. Sieppe, his gold-headed cane in one hand, his +Springfield in the other. "Attention! We depart." The four little boys +moved off ahead; the greyhound suddenly began to bark, and tug at his +leash. The others picked up their bundles. + +"Vorwarts!" shouted Mr. Sieppe, waving his rifle and assuming the +attitude of a lieutenant of infantry leading a charge. The party set off +down the railroad track. + +Mrs. Sieppe walked with her husband, who constantly left her side +to shout an order up and down the line. Marcus followed with Selina. +McTeague found himself with Trina at the end of the procession. + +"We go off on these picnics almost every week," said Trina, by way of a +beginning, "and almost every holiday, too. It is a custom." + +"Yes, yes, a custom," answered McTeague, nodding; "a custom--that's the +word." + +"Don't you think picnics are fine fun, Doctor McTeague?" she continued. +"You take your lunch; you leave the dirty city all day; you race about +in the open air, and when lunchtime comes, oh, aren't you hungry? And +the woods and the grass smell so fine!" + +"I don' know, Miss Sieppe," he answered, keeping his eyes fixed on the +ground between the rails. "I never went on a picnic." + +"Never went on a picnic?" she cried, astonished. "Oh, you'll see what +fun we'll have. In the morning father and the children dig clams in the +mud by the shore, an' we bake them, and--oh, there's thousands of things +to do." + +"Once I went sailing on the bay," said McTeague. "It was in a tugboat; +we fished off the heads. I caught three codfishes." + +"I'm afraid to go out on the bay," answered Trina, shaking her head, +"sailboats tip over so easy. A cousin of mine, Selina's brother, was +drowned one Decoration Day. They never found his body. Can you swim, +Doctor McTeague?" + +"I used to at the mine." + +"At the mine? Oh, yes, I remember, Marcus told me you were a miner +once." + +"I was a car-boy; all the car-boys used to swim in the reservoir by the +ditch every Thursday evening. One of them was bit by a rattlesnake once +while he was dressing. He was a Frenchman, named Andrew. He swelled up +and began to twitch." + +"Oh, how I hate snakes! They're so crawly and graceful--but, just the +same, I like to watch them. You know that drug store over in town that +has a showcase full of live ones?" + +"We killed the rattler with a cart whip." + +"How far do you think you could swim? Did you ever try? D'you think you +could swim a mile?" + +"A mile? I don't know. I never tried. I guess I could." + +"I can swim a little. Sometimes we all go out to the Crystal Baths." + +"The Crystal Baths, huh? Can you swim across the tank?" + +"Oh, I can swim all right as long as papa holds my chin up. Soon as +he takes his hand away, down I go. Don't you hate to get water in your +ears?" + +"Bathing's good for you." + +"If the water's too warm, it isn't. It weakens you." + +Mr. Sieppe came running down the tracks, waving his cane. + +"To one side," he shouted, motioning them off the track; "der drain +gomes." A local passenger train was just passing B Street station, some +quarter of a mile behind them. The party stood to one side to let it +pass. Marcus put a nickel and two crossed pins upon the rail, and waved +his hat to the passengers as the train roared past. The children shouted +shrilly. When the train was gone, they all rushed to see the nickel and +the crossed pins. The nickel had been jolted off, but the pins had been +flattened out so that they bore a faint resemblance to opened scissors. +A great contention arose among the children for the possession of these +"scissors." Mr. Sieppe was obliged to intervene. He reflected gravely. +It was a matter of tremendous moment. The whole party halted, awaiting +his decision. + +"Attend now," he suddenly exclaimed. "It will not be soh soon. At der +end of der day, ven we shall have home gecommen, den wull it pe adjudge, +eh? A REward of merit to him who der bes' pehaves. It is an order. +Vorwarts!" + +"That was a Sacramento train," said Marcus to Selina as they started +off; "it was, for a fact." + +"I know a girl in Sacramento," Trina told McTeague. "She's forewoman in +a glove store, and she's got consumption." + +"I was in Sacramento once," observed McTeague, "nearly eight years ago." + +"Is it a nice place--as nice as San Francisco?" + +"It's hot. I practised there for a while." + +"I like San Francisco," said Trina, looking across the bay to where the +city piled itself upon its hills. + +"So do I," answered McTeague. "Do you like it better than living over +here?" + +"Oh, sure, I wish we lived in the city. If you want to go across for +anything it takes up the whole day." + +"Yes, yes, the whole day--almost." + +"Do you know many people in the city? Do you know anybody named +Oelbermann? That's my uncle. He has a wholesale toy store in the +Mission. They say he's awful rich." + +"No, I don' know him." + +"His stepdaughter wants to be a nun. Just fancy! And Mr. Oelbermann +won't have it. He says it would be just like burying his child. Yes, +she wants to enter the convent of the Sacred Heart. Are you a Catholic, +Doctor McTeague?" + +"No. No, I--" + +"Papa is a Catholic. He goes to Mass on the feast days once in a while. +But mamma's Lutheran." + +"The Catholics are trying to get control of the schools," observed +McTeague, suddenly remembering one of Marcus's political tirades. + +"That's what cousin Mark says. We are going to send the twins to the +kindergarten next month." + +"What's the kindergarten?" + +"Oh, they teach them to make things out of straw and toothpicks--kind of +a play place to keep them off the street." + +"There's one up on Sacramento Street, not far from Polk Street. I saw +the sign." + +"I know where. Why, Selina used to play the piano there." + +"Does she play the piano?" + +"Oh, you ought to hear her. She plays fine. Selina's very accomplished. +She paints, too." + +"I can play on the concertina." + +"Oh, can you? I wish you'd brought it along. Next time you will. I hope +you'll come often on our picnics. You'll see what fun we'll have." + +"Fine day for a picnic, ain't it? There ain't a cloud." + +"That's so," exclaimed Trina, looking up, "not a single cloud. Oh, yes; +there is one, just over Telegraph Hill." + +"That's smoke." + +"No, it's a cloud. Smoke isn't white that way." + +"'Tis a cloud." + +"I knew I was right. I never say a thing unless I'm pretty sure." + +"It looks like a dog's head." + +"Don't it? Isn't Marcus fond of dogs?" + +"He got a new dog last week--a setter." + +"Did he?" + +"Yes. He and I took a lot of dogs from his hospital out for a walk +to the Cliff House last Sunday, but we had to walk all the way home, +because they wouldn't follow. You've been out to the Cliff House?" + +"Not for a long time. We had a picnic there one Fourth of July, but it +rained. Don't you love the ocean?" + +"Yes--yes, I like it pretty well." + +"Oh, I'd like to go off in one of those big sailing ships. Just away, +and away, and away, anywhere. They're different from a little yacht. I'd +love to travel." + +"Sure; so would I." + +"Papa and mamma came over in a sailing ship. They were twenty-one days. +Mamma's uncle used to be a sailor. He was captain of a steamer on Lake +Geneva, in Switzerland." + +"Halt!" shouted Mr. Sieppe, brandishing his rifle. They had arrived at +the gates of the park. All at once McTeague turned cold. He had only +a quarter in his pocket. What was he expected to do--pay for the whole +party, or for Trina and himself, or merely buy his own ticket? And even +in this latter case would a quarter be enough? He lost his wits, +rolling his eyes helplessly. Then it occurred to him to feign a great +abstraction, pretending not to know that the time was come to pay. He +looked intently up and down the tracks; perhaps a train was coming. +"Here we are," cried Trina, as they came up to the rest of the party, +crowded about the entrance. "Yes, yes," observed McTeague, his head in +the air. + +"Gi' me four bits, Mac," said Marcus, coming up. "Here's where we shell +out." + +"I--I--I only got a quarter," mumbled the dentist, miserably. He felt +that he had ruined himself forever with Trina. What was the use of +trying to win her? Destiny was against him. "I only got a quarter," he +stammered. He was on the point of adding that he would not go in the +park. That seemed to be the only alternative. + +"Oh, all right!" said Marcus, easily. "I'll pay for you, and you can +square with me when we go home." + +They filed into the park, Mr. Sieppe counting them off as they entered. + +"Ah," said Trina, with a long breath, as she and McTeague pushed through +the wicket, "here we are once more, Doctor." She had not appeared to +notice McTeague's embarrassment. The difficulty had been tided over +somehow. Once more McTeague felt himself saved. + +"To der beach!" shouted Mr. Sieppe. They had checked their baskets at +the peanut stand. The whole party trooped down to the seashore. The +greyhound was turned loose. The children raced on ahead. + +From one of the larger parcels Mrs. Sieppe had drawn forth a small tin +steamboat--August's birthday present--a gaudy little toy which could be +steamed up and navigated by means of an alcohol lamp. Her trial trip was +to be made this morning. + +"Gi' me it, gi' me it," shouted August, dancing around his father. + +"Not soh, not soh," cried Mr. Sieppe, bearing it aloft. "I must first +der eggsperimunt make." + +"No, no!" wailed August. "I want to play with ut." + +"Obey!" thundered Mr. Sieppe. August subsided. A little jetty ran part +of the way into the water. Here, after a careful study of the directions +printed on the cover of the box, Mr. Sieppe began to fire the little +boat. + +"I want to put ut in the wa-ater," cried August. + +"Stand back!" shouted his parent. "You do not know so well as me; dere +is dandger. Mitout attention he will eggsplode." + +"I want to play with ut," protested August, beginning to cry. + +"Ach, soh; you cry, bube!" vociferated Mr. Sieppe. "Mommer," addressing +Mrs. Sieppe, "he will soh soon be ge-whipt, eh?" + +"I want my boa-wut," screamed August, dancing. + +"Silence!" roared Mr. Sieppe. The little boat began to hiss and smoke. + +"Soh," observed the father, "he gommence. Attention! I put him in der +water." He was very excited. The perspiration dripped from the back of +his neck. The little boat was launched. It hissed more furiously than +ever. Clouds of steam rolled from it, but it refused to move. + +"You don't know how she wo-rks," sobbed August. + +"I know more soh mudge as der grossest liddle fool as you," cried Mr. +Sieppe, fiercely, his face purple. + +"You must give it sh--shove!" exclaimed the boy. + +"Den he eggsplode, idiot!" shouted his father. All at once the boiler of +the steamer blew up with a sharp crack. The little tin toy turned over +and sank out of sight before any one could interfere. + +"Ah--h! Yah! Yah!" yelled August. "It's go-one!" + +Instantly Mr. Sieppe boxed his ears. There was a lamentable scene. +August rent the air with his outcries; his father shook him till his +boots danced on the jetty, shouting into his face: + +"Ach, idiot! Ach, imbecile! Ach, miserable! I tol' you he eggsplode. +Stop your cry. Stop! It is an order. Do you wish I drow you in der +water, eh? Speak. Silence, bube! Mommer, where ist mein stick? He will +der grossest whippun ever of his life receive." + +Little by little the boy subsided, swallowing his sobs, knuckling his +eyes, gazing ruefully at the spot where the boat had sunk. "Dot is +better soh," commented Mr. Sieppe, finally releasing him. "Next dime +berhaps you will your fat'er better pelief. Now, no more. We will +der glams ge-dig, Mommer, a fire. Ach, himmel! we have der pfeffer +forgotten." + +The work of clam digging began at once, the little boys taking off their +shoes and stockings. At first August refused to be comforted, and it was +not until his father drove him into the water with his gold-headed cane +that he consented to join the others. + +What a day that was for McTeague! What a never-to-be-forgotten day! He +was with Trina constantly. They laughed together--she demurely, her lips +closed tight, her little chin thrust out, her small pale nose, with its +adorable little freckles, wrinkling; he roared with all the force of his +lungs, his enormous mouth distended, striking sledge-hammer blows upon +his knee with his clenched fist. + +The lunch was delicious. Trina and her mother made a clam chowder that +melted in one's mouth. The lunch baskets were emptied. The party were +fully two hours eating. There were huge loaves of rye bread full of +grains of chickweed. There were weiner-wurst and frankfurter sausages. +There was unsalted butter. There were pretzels. There was cold underdone +chicken, which one ate in slices, plastered with a wonderful kind of +mustard that did not sting. There were dried apples, that gave Mr. +Sieppe the hiccoughs. There were a dozen bottles of beer, and, last of +all, a crowning achievement, a marvellous Gotha truffle. After lunch +came tobacco. Stuffed to the eyes, McTeague drowsed over his pipe, prone +on his back in the sun, while Trina, Mrs. Sieppe, and Selina washed the +dishes. In the afternoon Mr. Sieppe disappeared. They heard the reports +of his rifle on the range. The others swarmed over the park, now around +the swings, now in the Casino, now in the museum, now invading the +merry-go-round. + +At half-past five o'clock Mr. Sieppe marshalled the party together. It +was time to return home. + +The family insisted that Marcus and McTeague should take supper with +them at their home and should stay over night. Mrs. Sieppe argued they +could get no decent supper if they went back to the city at that hour; +that they could catch an early morning boat and reach their business in +good time. The two friends accepted. + +The Sieppes lived in a little box of a house at the foot of B Street, +the first house to the right as one went up from the station. It was two +stories high, with a funny red mansard roof of oval slates. The interior +was cut up into innumerable tiny rooms, some of them so small as to be +hardly better than sleeping closets. In the back yard was a contrivance +for pumping water from the cistern that interested McTeague at once. +It was a dog-wheel, a huge revolving box in which the unhappy black +greyhound spent most of his waking hours. It was his kennel; he slept +in it. From time to time during the day Mrs. Sieppe appeared on the back +doorstep, crying shrilly, "Hoop, hoop!" She threw lumps of coal at him, +waking him to his work. + +They were all very tired, and went to bed early. After great discussion +it was decided that Marcus would sleep upon the lounge in the front +parlor. Trina would sleep with August, giving up her room to McTeague. +Selina went to her home, a block or so above the Sieppes's. At nine +o'clock Mr. Sieppe showed McTeague to his room and left him to himself +with a newly lighted candle. + +For a long time after Mr. Sieppe had gone McTeague stood motionless in +the middle of the room, his elbows pressed close to his sides, looking +obliquely from the corners of his eyes. He hardly dared to move. He was +in Trina's room. + +It was an ordinary little room. A clean white matting was on the floor; +gray paper, spotted with pink and green flowers, covered the walls. In +one corner, under a white netting, was a little bed, the woodwork gayly +painted with knots of bright flowers. Near it, against the wall, was a +black walnut bureau. A work-table with spiral legs stood by the window, +which was hung with a green and gold window curtain. Opposite the window +the closet door stood ajar, while in the corner across from the bed was +a tiny washstand with two clean towels. + +And that was all. But it was Trina's room. McTeague was in his lady's +bower; it seemed to him a little nest, intimate, discreet. He felt +hideously out of place. He was an intruder; he, with his enormous feet, +his colossal bones, his crude, brutal gestures. The mere weight of his +limbs, he was sure, would crush the little bed-stead like an eggshell. + +Then, as this first sensation wore off, he began to feel the charm of +the little chamber. It was as though Trina were close by, but invisible. +McTeague felt all the delight of her presence without the embarrassment +that usually accompanied it. He was near to her--nearer than he had ever +been before. He saw into her daily life, her little ways and manners, +her habits, her very thoughts. And was there not in the air of that room +a certain faint perfume that he knew, that recalled her to his mind with +marvellous vividness? + +As he put the candle down upon the bureau he saw her hairbrush lying +there. Instantly he picked it up, and, without knowing why, held it +to his face. With what a delicious odor was it redolent! That heavy, +enervating odor of her hair--her wonderful, royal hair! The smell of +that little hairbrush was talismanic. He had but to close his eyes to +see her as distinctly as in a mirror. He saw her tiny, round figure, +dressed all in black--for, curiously enough, it was his very first +impression of Trina that came back to him now--not the Trina of the +later occasions, not the Trina of the blue cloth skirt and white sailor. +He saw her as he had seen her the day that Marcus had introduced them: +saw her pale, round face; her narrow, half-open eyes, blue like the +eyes of a baby; her tiny, pale ears, suggestive of anaemia; the freckles +across the bridge of her nose; her pale lips; the tiara of royal black +hair; and, above all, the delicious poise of the head, tipped back as +though by the weight of all that hair--the poise that thrust out her +chin a little, with the movement that was so confiding, so innocent, so +nearly infantile. + +McTeague went softly about the room from one object to another, +beholding Trina in everything he touched or looked at. He came at last +to the closet door. It was ajar. He opened it wide, and paused upon the +threshold. + +Trina's clothes were hanging there--skirts and waists, jackets, and +stiff white petticoats. What a vision! For an instant McTeague caught +his breath, spellbound. If he had suddenly discovered Trina herself +there, smiling at him, holding out her hands, he could hardly have been +more overcome. Instantly he recognized the black dress she had worn on +that famous first day. There it was, the little jacket she had +carried over her arm the day he had terrified her with his blundering +declaration, and still others, and others--a whole group of Trinas +faced him there. He went farther into the closet, touching the clothes +gingerly, stroking them softly with his huge leathern palms. As he +stirred them a delicate perfume disengaged itself from the folds. Ah, +that exquisite feminine odor! It was not only her hair now, it was +Trina herself--her mouth, her hands, her neck; the indescribably sweet, +fleshly aroma that was a part of her, pure and clean, and redolent of +youth and freshness. All at once, seized with an unreasoned impulse, +McTeague opened his huge arms and gathered the little garments close to +him, plunging his face deep amongst them, savoring their delicious odor +with long breaths of luxury and supreme content. + +* * * * * + +The picnic at Schuetzen Park decided matters. McTeague began to call +on Trina regularly Sunday and Wednesday afternoons. He took Marcus +Schouler's place. Sometimes Marcus accompanied him, but it was generally +to meet Selina by appointment at the Sieppes's house. + +But Marcus made the most of his renunciation of his cousin. He +remembered his pose from time to time. He made McTeague unhappy and +bewildered by wringing his hand, by venting sighs that seemed to tear +his heart out, or by giving evidences of an infinite melancholy. "What +is my life!" he would exclaim. "What is left for me? Nothing, by damn!" +And when McTeague would attempt remonstrance, he would cry: "Never mind, +old man. Never mind me. Go, be happy. I forgive you." + +Forgive what? McTeague was all at sea, was harassed with the thought of +some shadowy, irreparable injury he had done his friend. + +"Oh, don't think of me!" Marcus would exclaim at other times, even when +Trina was by. "Don't think of me; I don't count any more. I ain't in +it." Marcus seemed to take great pleasure in contemplating the wreck of +his life. There is no doubt he enjoyed himself hugely during these days. + +The Sieppes were at first puzzled as well over this change of front. + +"Trina has den a new younge man," cried Mr. Sieppe. "First Schouler, now +der doktor, eh? What die tevil, I say!" + +Weeks passed, February went, March came in very rainy, putting a stop to +all their picnics and Sunday excursions. + +One Wednesday afternoon in the second week in March McTeague came over +to call on Trina, bringing his concertina with him, as was his custom +nowadays. As he got off the train at the station he was surprised to +find Trina waiting for him. + +"This is the first day it hasn't rained in weeks," she explained, "an' I +thought it would be nice to walk." + +"Sure, sure," assented McTeague. + +B Street station was nothing more than a little shed. There was no +ticket office, nothing but a couple of whittled and carven benches. It +was built close to the railroad tracks, just across which was the dirty, +muddy shore of San Francisco Bay. About a quarter of a mile back from +the station was the edge of the town of Oakland. Between the station +and the first houses of the town lay immense salt flats, here and there +broken by winding streams of black water. They were covered with a +growth of wiry grass, strangely discolored in places by enormous stains +of orange yellow. + +Near the station a bit of fence painted with a cigar advertisement +reeled over into the mud, while under its lee lay an abandoned gravel +wagon with dished wheels. The station was connected with the town by +the extension of B Street, which struck across the flats geometrically +straight, a file of tall poles with intervening wires marching along +with it. At the station these were headed by an iron electric-light pole +that, with its supports and outriggers, looked for all the world like an +immense grasshopper on its hind legs. + +Across the flats, at the fringe of the town, were the dump heaps, the +figures of a few Chinese rag-pickers moving over them. Far to the left +the view was shut off by the immense red-brown drum of the gas-works; +to the right it was bounded by the chimneys and workshops of an iron +foundry. + +Across the railroad tracks, to seaward, one saw the long stretch of +black mud bank left bare by the tide, which was far out, nearly half a +mile. Clouds of sea-gulls were forever rising and settling upon this mud +bank; a wrecked and abandoned wharf crawled over it on tottering legs; +close in an old sailboat lay canted on her bilge. + +But farther on, across the yellow waters of the bay, beyond Goat Island, +lay San Francisco, a blue line of hills, rugged with roofs and spires. +Far to the westward opened the Golden Gate, a bleak cutting in the +sand-hills, through which one caught a glimpse of the open Pacific. + +The station at B Street was solitary; no trains passed at this hour; +except the distant rag-pickers, not a soul was in sight. The wind blew +strong, carrying with it the mingled smell of salt, of tar, of dead +seaweed, and of bilge. The sky hung low and brown; at long intervals a +few drops of rain fell. + +Near the station Trina and McTeague sat on the roadbed of the tracks, at +the edge of the mud bank, making the most out of the landscape, enjoying +the open air, the salt marshes, and the sight of the distant water. From +time to time McTeague played his six mournful airs upon his concertina. + +After a while they began walking up and down the tracks, McTeague +talking about his profession, Trina listening, very interested and +absorbed, trying to understand. + +"For pulling the roots of the upper molars we use the cowhorn forceps," +continued the dentist, monotonously. "We get the inside beak over the +palatal roots and the cow-horn beak over the buccal roots--that's the +roots on the outside, you see. Then we close the forceps, and that +breaks right through the alveolus--that's the part of the socket in the +jaw, you understand." + +At another moment he told her of his one unsatisfied desire. "Some day +I'm going to have a big gilded tooth outside my window for a sign. Those +big gold teeth are beautiful, beautiful--only they cost so much, I can't +afford one just now." + +"Oh, it's raining," suddenly exclaimed Trina, holding out her palm. +They turned back and reached the station in a drizzle. The afternoon was +closing in dark and rainy. The tide was coming back, talking and lapping +for miles along the mud bank. Far off across the flats, at the edge of +the town, an electric car went by, stringing out a long row of diamond +sparks on the overhead wires. + +"Say, Miss Trina," said McTeague, after a while, "what's the good of +waiting any longer? Why can't us two get married?" + +Trina still shook her head, saying "No" instinctively, in spite of +herself. + +"Why not?" persisted McTeague. "Don't you like me well enough?" + +"Yes." + +"Then why not?" + +"Because." + +"Ah, come on," he said, but Trina still shook her head. + +"Ah, come on," urged McTeague. He could think of nothing else to say, +repeating the same phrase over and over again to all her refusals. + +"Ah, come on! Ah, come on!" + +Suddenly he took her in his enormous arms, crushing down her struggle +with his immense strength. Then Trina gave up, all in an instant, +turning her head to his. They kissed each other, grossly, full in the +mouth. + +A roar and a jarring of the earth suddenly grew near and passed them +in a reek of steam and hot air. It was the Overland, with its flaming +headlight, on its way across the continent. + +The passage of the train startled them both. Trina struggled to free +herself from McTeague. "Oh, please! please!" she pleaded, on the point +of tears. McTeague released her, but in that moment a slight, a barely +perceptible, revulsion of feeling had taken place in him. The instant +that Trina gave up, the instant she allowed him to kiss her, he thought +less of her. She was not so desirable, after all. But this reaction +was so faint, so subtle, so intangible, that in another moment he +had doubted its occurrence. Yet afterward it returned. Was there not +something gone from Trina now? Was he not disappointed in her for doing +that very thing for which he had longed? Was Trina the submissive, the +compliant, the attainable just the same, just as delicate and adorable +as Trina the inaccessible? Perhaps he dimly saw that this must be so, +that it belonged to the changeless order of things--the man desiring +the woman only for what she withholds; the woman worshipping the man for +that which she yields up to him. With each concession gained the man's +desire cools; with every surrender made the woman's adoration increases. +But why should it be so? + +Trina wrenched herself free and drew back from McTeague, her little +chin quivering; her face, even to the lobes of her pale ears, flushed +scarlet; her narrow blue eyes brimming. Suddenly she put her head +between her hands and began to sob. + +"Say, say, Miss Trina, listen--listen here, Miss Trina," cried McTeague, +coming forward a step. + +"Oh, don't!" she gasped, shrinking. "I must go home," she cried, +springing to her feet. "It's late. I must. I must. Don't come with +me, please. Oh, I'm so--so,"--she could not find any words. "Let me go +alone," she went on. "You may--you come Sunday. Good-by." + +"Good-by," said McTeague, his head in a whirl at this sudden, +unaccountable change. "Can't I kiss you again?" But Trina was firm now. +When it came to his pleading--a mere matter of words--she was strong +enough. + +"No, no, you must not!" she exclaimed, with energy. She was gone in +another instant. The dentist, stunned, bewildered, gazed stupidly after +her as she ran up the extension of B Street through the rain. + +But suddenly a great joy took possession of him. He had won her. Trina +was to be for him, after all. An enormous smile distended his thick +lips; his eyes grew wide, and flashed; and he drew his breath quickly, +striking his mallet-like fist upon his knee, and exclaiming under his +breath: + +"I got her, by God! I got her, by God!" At the same time he thought +better of himself; his self-respect increased enormously. The man that +could win Trina Sieppe was a man of extraordinary ability. + +Trina burst in upon her mother while the latter was setting a mousetrap +in the kitchen. + +"Oh, mamma!" + +"Eh? Trina? Ach, what has happun?" + +Trina told her in a breath. + +"Soh soon?" was Mrs. Sieppe's first comment. "Eh, well, what you cry +for, then?" + +"I don't know," wailed Trina, plucking at the end of her handkerchief. + +"You loaf der younge doktor?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well, what for you kiss him?" + +"I don't know." + +"You don' know, you don' know? Where haf your sensus gone, Trina? You +kiss der doktor. You cry, and you don' know. Is ut Marcus den?" + +"No, it's not Cousin Mark." + +"Den ut must be der doktor." + +Trina made no answer. + +"Eh?" + +"I--I guess so." + +"You loaf him?" + +"I don't know." + +Mrs. Sieppe set down the mousetrap with such violence that it sprung +with a sharp snap. + + + +CHAPTER 6 + + +No, Trina did not know. "Do I love him? Do I love him?" A thousand times +she put the question to herself during the next two or three days. At +night she hardly slept, but lay broad awake for hours in her little, +gayly painted bed, with its white netting, torturing herself with doubts +and questions. At times she remembered the scene in the station with a +veritable agony of shame, and at other times she was ashamed to recall +it with a thrill of joy. Nothing could have been more sudden, more +unexpected, than that surrender of herself. For over a year she had +thought that Marcus would some day be her husband. They would be +married, she supposed, some time in the future, she did not know exactly +when; the matter did not take definite shape in her mind. She liked +Cousin Mark very well. And then suddenly this cross-current had set +in; this blond giant had appeared, this huge, stolid fellow, with +his immense, crude strength. She had not loved him at first, that was +certain. The day he had spoken to her in his "Parlors" she had only been +terrified. If he had confined himself to merely speaking, as did Marcus, +to pleading with her, to wooing her at a distance, forestalling her +wishes, showing her little attentions, sending her boxes of candy, she +could have easily withstood him. But he had only to take her in his +arms, to crush down her struggle with his enormous strength, to subdue +her, conquer her by sheer brute force, and she gave up in an instant. + +But why--why had she done so? Why did she feel the desire, the necessity +of being conquered by a superior strength? Why did it please her? Why +had it suddenly thrilled her from head to foot with a quick, terrifying +gust of passion, the like of which she had never known? Never at his +best had Marcus made her feel like that, and yet she had always thought +she cared for Cousin Mark more than for any one else. + +When McTeague had all at once caught her in his huge arms, something +had leaped to life in her--something that had hitherto lain dormant, +something strong and overpowering. It frightened her now as she thought +of it, this second self that had wakened within her, and that shouted +and clamored for recognition. And yet, was it to be feared? Was it +something to be ashamed of? Was it not, after all, natural, clean, +spontaneous? Trina knew that she was a pure girl; knew that this sudden +commotion within her carried with it no suggestion of vice. + +Dimly, as figures seen in a waking dream, these ideas floated through +Trina's mind. It was quite beyond her to realize them clearly; she could +not know what they meant. Until that rainy day by the shore of the bay +Trina had lived her life with as little self-consciousness as a tree. +She was frank, straightforward, a healthy, natural human being, +without sex as yet. She was almost like a boy. At once there had been a +mysterious disturbance. The woman within her suddenly awoke. + +Did she love McTeague? Difficult question. Did she choose him for better +or for worse, deliberately, of her own free will, or was Trina herself +allowed even a choice in the taking of that step that was to make or mar +her life? The Woman is awakened, and, starting from her sleep, catches +blindly at what first her newly opened eyes light upon. It is a spell, a +witchery, ruled by chance alone, inexplicable--a fairy queen enamored of +a clown with ass's ears. + +McTeague had awakened the Woman, and, whether she would or no, she was +his now irrevocably; struggle against it as she would, she belonged to +him, body and soul, for life or for death. She had not sought it, she +had not desired it. The spell was laid upon her. Was it a blessing? Was +it a curse? It was all one; she was his, indissolubly, for evil or for +good. + +And he? The very act of submission that bound the woman to him forever +had made her seem less desirable in his eyes. Their undoing had already +begun. Yet neither of them was to blame. From the first they had not +sought each other. Chance had brought them face to face, and mysterious +instincts as ungovernable as the winds of heaven were at work knitting +their lives together. Neither of them had asked that this thing should +be--that their destinies, their very souls, should be the sport of +chance. If they could have known, they would have shunned the fearful +risk. But they were allowed no voice in the matter. Why should it all +be? + +It had been on a Wednesday that the scene in the B Street station had +taken place. Throughout the rest of the week, at every hour of the day, +Trina asked herself the same question: "Do I love him? Do I really love +him? Is this what love is like?" As she recalled McTeague--recalled his +huge, square-cut head, his salient jaw, his shock of yellow hair, his +heavy, lumbering body, his slow wits--she found little to admire in him +beyond his physical strength, and at such moments she shook her head +decisively. "No, surely she did not love him." Sunday afternoon, +however, McTeague called. Trina had prepared a little speech for him. +She was to tell him that she did not know what had been the matter with +her that Wednesday afternoon; that she had acted like a bad girl; that +she did not love him well enough to marry him; that she had told him as +much once before. + +McTeague saw her alone in the little front parlor. The instant she +appeared he came straight towards her. She saw what he was bent upon +doing. "Wait a minute," she cried, putting out her hands. "Wait. You +don't understand. I have got something to say to you." She might as +well have talked to the wind. McTeague put aside her hands with a single +gesture, and gripped her to him in a bearlike embrace that all but +smothered her. Trina was but a reed before that giant strength. McTeague +turned her face to his and kissed her again upon the mouth. Where +was all Trina's resolve then? Where was her carefully prepared little +speech? Where was all her hesitation and torturing doubts of the last +few days? She clasped McTeague's huge red neck with both her slender +arms; she raised her adorable little chin and kissed him in return, +exclaiming: "Oh, I do love you! I do love you!" Never afterward were the +two so happy as at that moment. + +A little later in that same week, when Marcus and McTeague were +taking lunch at the car conductors' coffee-joint, the former suddenly +exclaimed: + +"Say, Mac, now that you've got Trina, you ought to do more for her. By +damn! you ought to, for a fact. Why don't you take her out somewhere--to +the theatre, or somewhere? You ain't on to your job." + +Naturally, McTeague had told Marcus of his success with Trina. Marcus +had taken on a grand air. + +"You've got her, have you? Well, I'm glad of it, old man. I am, for a +fact. I know you'll be happy with her. I know how I would have been. I +forgive you; yes, I forgive you, freely." + +McTeague had not thought of taking Trina to the theatre. + +"You think I ought to, Mark?" he inquired, hesitating. Marcus answered, +with his mouth full of suet pudding: + +"Why, of course. That's the proper caper." + +"Well--well, that's so. The theatre--that's the word." + +"Take her to the variety show at the Orpheum. There's a good show there +this week; you'll have to take Mrs. Sieppe, too, of course," he added. +Marcus was not sure of himself as regarded certain proprieties, nor, for +that matter, were any of the people of the little world of Polk Street. +The shop girls, the plumbers' apprentices, the small tradespeople, and +their like, whose social position was not clearly defined, could never +be sure how far they could go and yet preserve their "respectability." +When they wished to be "proper," they invariably overdid the thing. +It was not as if they belonged to the "tough" element, who had no +appearances to keep up. Polk Street rubbed elbows with the "avenue" +one block above. There were certain limits which its dwellers could not +overstep; but unfortunately for them, these limits were poorly defined. +They could never be sure of themselves. At an unguarded moment they +might be taken for "toughs," so they generally erred in the other +direction, and were absurdly formal. No people have a keener eye for the +amenities than those whose social position is not assured. + +"Oh, sure, you'll have to take her mother," insisted Marcus. "It +wouldn't be the proper racket if you didn't." + +McTeague undertook the affair. It was an ordeal. Never in his life had +he been so perturbed, so horribly anxious. He called upon Trina the +following Wednesday and made arrangements. Mrs. Sieppe asked if little +August might be included. It would console him for the loss of his +steamboat. + +"Sure, sure," said McTeague. "August too--everybody," he added, vaguely. + +"We always have to leave so early," complained Trina, "in order to catch +the last boat. Just when it's becoming interesting." + +At this McTeague, acting upon a suggestion of Marcus Schouler's, +insisted they should stay at the flat over night. Marcus and the dentist +would give up their rooms to them and sleep at the dog hospital. There +was a bed there in the sick ward that old Grannis sometimes occupied +when a bad case needed watching. All at once McTeague had an idea, a +veritable inspiration. + +"And we'll--we'll--we'll have--what's the matter with having something +to eat afterward in my 'Parlors'?" + +"Vairy goot," commented Mrs. Sieppe. "Bier, eh? And some damales." + +"Oh, I love tamales!" exclaimed Trina, clasping her hands. + +McTeague returned to the city, rehearsing his instructions over and +over. The theatre party began to assume tremendous proportions. First of +all, he was to get the seats, the third or fourth row from the front, on +the left-hand side, so as to be out of the hearing of the drums in the +orchestra; he must make arrangements about the rooms with Marcus, must +get in the beer, but not the tamales; must buy for himself a white lawn +tie--so Marcus directed; must look to it that Maria Macapa put his room +in perfect order; and, finally, must meet the Sieppes at the ferry slip +at half-past seven the following Monday night. + +The real labor of the affair began with the buying of the tickets. At +the theatre McTeague got into wrong entrances; was sent from one wicket +to another; was bewildered, confused; misunderstood directions; was at +one moment suddenly convinced that he had not enough money with him, +and started to return home. Finally he found himself at the box-office +wicket. + +"Is it here you buy your seats?" + +"How many?" + +"Is it here--" + +"What night do you want 'em? Yes, sir, here's the place." + +McTeague gravely delivered himself of the formula he had been reciting +for the last dozen hours. + +"I want four seats for Monday night in the fourth row from the front, +and on the right-hand side." + +"Right hand as you face the house or as you face the stage?" McTeague +was dumfounded. + +"I want to be on the right-hand side," he insisted, stolidly; adding, +"in order to be away from the drums." + +"Well, the drums are on the right of the orchestra as you face the +stage," shouted the other impatiently; "you want to the left, then, as +you face the house." + +"I want to be on the right-hand side," persisted the dentist. + +Without a word the seller threw out four tickets with a magnificent, +supercilious gesture. + +"There's four seats on the right-hand side, then, and you're right up +against the drums." + +"But I don't want to be near the drums," protested McTeague, beginning +to perspire. + +"Do you know what you want at all?" said the ticket seller with +calmness, thrusting his head at McTeague. The dentist knew that he had +hurt this young man's feelings. + +"I want--I want," he stammered. The seller slammed down a plan of the +house in front of him and began to explain excitedly. It was the one +thing lacking to complete McTeague's confusion. + +"There are your seats," finished the seller, shoving the tickets into +McTeague's hands. "They are the fourth row from the front, and away from +the drums. Now are you satisfied?" + +"Are they on the right-hand side? I want on the right--no, I want on the +left. I want--I don' know, I don' know." + +The seller roared. McTeague moved slowly away, gazing stupidly at the +blue slips of pasteboard. Two girls took his place at the wicket. In +another moment McTeague came back, peering over the girls' shoulders and +calling to the seller: + +"Are these for Monday night?" + +The other disdained reply. McTeague retreated again timidly, thrusting +the tickets into his immense wallet. For a moment he stood thoughtful +on the steps of the entrance. Then all at once he became enraged, he +did not know exactly why; somehow he felt himself slighted. Once more he +came back to the wicket. + +"You can't make small of me," he shouted over the girls' shoulders; +"you--you can't make small of me. I'll thump you in the head, you +little--you little--you little--little--little pup." The ticket seller +shrugged his shoulders wearily. "A dollar and a half," he said to the +two girls. + +McTeague glared at him and breathed loudly. Finally he decided to let +the matter drop. He moved away, but on the steps was once more seized +with a sense of injury and outraged dignity. + +"You can't make small of me," he called back a last time, wagging his +head and shaking his fist. "I will--I will--I will--yes, I will." He +went off muttering. + +At last Monday night came. McTeague met the Sieppes at the ferry, +dressed in a black Prince Albert coat and his best slate-blue trousers, +and wearing the made-up lawn necktie that Marcus had selected for him. +Trina was very pretty in the black dress that McTeague knew so well. +She wore a pair of new gloves. Mrs. Sieppe had on lisle-thread mits, and +carried two bananas and an orange in a net reticule. "For Owgooste," she +confided to him. Owgooste was in a Fauntleroy "costume" very much too +small for him. Already he had been crying. + +"Woult you pelief, Doktor, dot bube has torn his stockun alreatty? Walk +in der front, you; stop cryun. Where is dot berliceman?" + +At the door of the theatre McTeague was suddenly seized with a panic +terror. He had lost the tickets. He tore through his pockets, ransacked +his wallet. They were nowhere to be found. All at once he remembered, +and with a gasp of relief removed his hat and took them out from beneath +the sweatband. + +The party entered and took their places. It was absurdly early. The +lights were all darkened, the ushers stood under the galleries in +groups, the empty auditorium echoing with their noisy talk. Occasionally +a waiter with his tray and clean white apron sauntered up and doun +the aisle. Directly in front of them was the great iron curtain of the +stage, painted with all manner of advertisements. From behind this came +a noise of hammering and of occasional loud voices. + +While waiting they studied their programmes. First was an overture by +the orchestra, after which came "The Gleasons, in their mirth-moving +musical farce, entitled 'McMonnigal's Court-ship.'" This was to be +followed by "The Lamont Sisters, Winnie and Violet, serio-comiques and +skirt dancers." And after this came a great array of other "artists" and +"specialty performers," musical wonders, acrobats, lightning artists, +ventriloquists, and last of all, "The feature of the evening, the +crowning scientific achievement of the nineteenth century, the +kinetoscope." McTeague was excited, dazzled. In five years he had not +been twice to the theatre. Now he beheld himself inviting his "girl" and +her mother to accompany him. He began to feel that he was a man of the +world. He ordered a cigar. + +Meanwhile the house was filling up. A few side brackets were turned on. +The ushers ran up and down the aisles, stubs of tickets between their +thumb and finger, and from every part of the auditorium could be heard +the sharp clap-clapping of the seats as the ushers flipped them down. A +buzz of talk arose. In the gallery a street gamin whistled shrilly, and +called to some friends on the other side of the house. + +"Are they go-wun to begin pretty soon, ma?" whined Owgooste for the +fifth or sixth time; adding, "Say, ma, can't I have some candy?" A +cadaverous little boy had appeared in their aisle, chanting, "Candies, +French mixed candies, popcorn, peanuts and candy." The orchestra +entered, each man crawling out from an opening under the stage, hardly +larger than the gate of a rabbit hutch. At every instant now the crowd +increased; there were but few seats that were not taken. The waiters +hurried up and down the aisles, their trays laden with beer glasses. +A smell of cigar-smoke filled the air, and soon a faint blue haze rose +from all corners of the house. + +"Ma, when are they go-wun to begin?" cried Owgooste. As he spoke +the iron advertisement curtain rose, disclosing the curtain proper +underneath. This latter curtain was quite an affair. Upon it was painted +a wonderful picture. A flight of marble steps led down to a stream of +water; two white swans, their necks arched like the capital letter S, +floated about. At the head of the marble steps were two vases filled +with red and yellow flowers, while at the foot was moored a gondola. +This gondola was full of red velvet rugs that hung over the side +and trailed in the water. In the prow of the gondola a young man in +vermilion tights held a mandolin in his left hand, and gave his right to +a girl in white satin. A King Charles spaniel, dragging a leading-string +in the shape of a huge pink sash, followed the girl. Seven scarlet +roses were scattered upon the two lowest steps, and eight floated in the +water. + +"Ain't that pretty, Mac?" exclaimed Trina, turning to the dentist. + +"Ma, ain't they go-wun to begin now-wow?" whined Owgooste. Suddenly the +lights all over the house blazed up. "Ah!" said everybody all at once. + +"Ain't ut crowdut?" murmured Mr. Sieppe. Every seat was taken; many were +even standing up. + +"I always like it better when there is a crowd," said Trina. She was in +great spirits that evening. Her round, pale face was positively pink. + +The orchestra banged away at the overture, suddenly finishing with a +great flourish of violins. A short pause followed. Then the orchestra +played a quick-step strain, and the curtain rose on an interior +furnished with two red chairs and a green sofa. A girl in a short blue +dress and black stockings entered in a hurry and began to dust the +two chairs. She was in a great temper, talking very fast, disclaiming +against the "new lodger." It appeared that this latter never paid +his rent; that he was given to late hours. Then she came down to the +footlights and began to sing in a tremendous voice, hoarse and flat, +almost like a man's. The chorus, of a feeble originality, ran: + + "Oh, how happy I will be, + When my darling's face I'll see; + Oh, tell him for to meet me in the moonlight, + Down where the golden lilies bloom." + +The orchestra played the tune of this chorus a second time, with certain +variations, while the girl danced to it. She sidled to one side of the +stage and kicked, then sidled to the other and kicked again. As she +finished with the song, a man, evidently the lodger in question, came +in. Instantly McTeague exploded in a roar of laughter. The man +was intoxicated, his hat was knocked in, one end of his collar was +unfastened and stuck up into his face, his watch-chain dangled from +his pocket, and a yellow satin slipper was tied to a button-hole of his +vest; his nose was vermilion, one eye was black and blue. After a short +dialogue with the girl, a third actor appeared. He was dressed like a +little boy, the girl's younger brother. He wore an immense turned-down +collar, and was continually doing hand-springs and wonderful back +somersaults. The "act" devolved upon these three people; the lodger +making love to the girl in the short blue dress, the boy playing all +manner of tricks upon him, giving him tremendous digs in the ribs or +slaps upon the back that made him cough, pulling chairs from under him, +running on all fours between his legs and upsetting him, knocking him +over at inopportune moments. Every one of his falls was accentuated by a +bang upon the bass drum. The whole humor of the "act" seemed to consist +in the tripping up of the intoxicated lodger. + +This horse-play delighted McTeague beyond measure. He roared and shouted +every time the lodger went down, slapping his knee, wagging his head. +Owgooste crowed shrilly, clapping his hands and continually +asking, "What did he say, ma? What did he say?" Mrs. Sieppe laughed +immoderately, her huge fat body shaking like a mountain of jelly. She +exclaimed from time to time, "Ach, Gott, dot fool!" Even Trina was +moved, laughing demurely, her lips closed, putting one hand with its new +glove to her mouth. + +The performance went on. Now it was the "musical marvels," two men +extravagantly made up as negro minstrels, with immense shoes and +plaid vests. They seemed to be able to wrestle a tune out of almost +anything--glass bottles, cigar-box fiddles, strings of sleigh-bells, +even graduated brass tubes, which they rubbed with resined fingers. +McTeague was stupefied with admiration. + +"That's what you call musicians," he announced gravely. "'Home, Sweet +Home,' played upon a trombone. Think of that! Art could go no farther." + +The acrobats left him breathless. They were dazzling young men with +beautifully parted hair, continually making graceful gestures to the +audience. In one of them the dentist fancied he saw a strong resemblance +to the boy who had tormented the intoxicated lodger and who had turned +such marvellous somersaults. Trina could not bear to watch their antics. +She turned away her head with a little shudder. "It always makes me +sick," she explained. + +The beautiful young lady, "The Society Contralto," in evening dress, who +sang the sentimental songs, and carried the sheets of music at which she +never looked, pleased McTeague less. Trina, however, was captivated. She +grew pensive over + + "You do not love me--no; + Bid me good-by and go;" + +and split her new gloves in her enthusiasm when it was finished. + +"Don't you love sad music, Mac?" she murmured. + +Then came the two comedians. They talked with fearful rapidity; their +wit and repartee seemed inexhaustible. + +"As I was going down the street yesterday--" + +"Ah! as YOU were going down the street--all right." + +"I saw a girl at a window----" + +"YOU saw a girl at a window." + +"And this girl she was a corker----" + +"Ah! as YOU were going down the street yesterday YOU saw a girl at a +window, and this girl she was a corker. All right, go on." + +The other comedian went on. The joke was suddenly evolved. A certain +phrase led to a song, which was sung with lightning rapidity, each +performer making precisely the same gestures at precisely the same +instant. They were irresistible. McTeague, though he caught but a third +of the jokes, could have listened all night. + +After the comedians had gone out, the iron advertisement curtain was let +down. + +"What comes now?" said McTeague, bewildered. + +"It's the intermission of fifteen minutes now." + +The musicians disappeared through the rabbit hutch, and the audience +stirred and stretched itself. Most of the young men left their seats. + +During this intermission McTeague and his party had "refreshments." Mrs. +Sieppe and Trina had Queen Charlottes, McTeague drank a glass of beer, +Owgooste ate the orange and one of the bananas. He begged for a glass of +lemonade, which was finally given him. + +"Joost to geep um quiet," observed Mrs. Sieppe. + +But almost immediately after drinking his lemonade Owgooste was seized +with a sudden restlessness. He twisted and wriggled in his seat, +swinging his legs violently, looking about him with eyes full of a vague +distress. At length, just as the musicians were returning, he stood +up and whispered energetically in his mother's ear. Mrs. Sieppe was +exasperated at once. + +"No, no," she cried, reseating him brusquely. + +The performance was resumed. A lightning artist appeared, drawing +caricatures and portraits with incredible swiftness. He even went so far +as to ask for subjects from the audience, and the names of prominent +men were shouted to him from the gallery. He drew portraits of the +President, of Grant, of Washington, of Napoleon Bonaparte, of Bismarck, +of Garibaldi, of P. T. Barnum. + +And so the evening passed. The hall grew very hot, and the smoke of +innumerable cigars made the eyes smart. A thick blue mist hung low over +the heads of the audience. The air was full of varied smells--the +smell of stale cigars, of flat beer, of orange peel, of gas, of sachet +powders, and of cheap perfumery. + +One "artist" after another came upon the stage. McTeague's attention +never wandered for a minute. Trina and her mother enjoyed themselves +hugely. At every moment they made comments to one another, their eyes +never leaving the stage. + +"Ain't dot fool joost too funny?" + +"That's a pretty song. Don't you like that kind of a song?" + +"Wonderful! It's wonderful! Yes, yes, wonderful! That's the word." + +Owgooste, however, lost interest. He stood up in his place, his back to +the stage, chewing a piece of orange peel and watching a little girl in +her father's lap across the aisle, his eyes fixed in a glassy, ox-like +stare. But he was uneasy. He danced from one foot to the other, and at +intervals appealed in hoarse whispers to his mother, who disdained an +answer. + +"Ma, say, ma-ah," he whined, abstractedly chewing his orange peel, +staring at the little girl. + +"Ma-ah, say, ma." At times his monotonous plaint reached his mother's +consciousness. She suddenly realized what this was that was annoying +her. + +"Owgooste, will you sit down?" She caught him up all at once, and jammed +him down into his place. "Be quiet, den; loog; listun at der yunge +girls." + +Three young women and a young man who played a zither occupied the +stage. They were dressed in Tyrolese costume; they were yodlers, and +sang in German about "mountain tops" and "bold hunters" and the like. +The yodling chorus was a marvel of flute-like modulations. The girls +were really pretty, and were not made up in the least. Their "turn" had +a great success. Mrs. Sieppe was entranced. Instantly she remembered her +girlhood and her native Swiss village. + +"Ach, dot is heavunly; joost like der old country. Mein gran'mutter used +to be one of der mos' famous yodlers. When I was leedle, I haf seen dem +joost like dat." + +"Ma-ah," began Owgooste fretfully, as soon as the yodlers had departed. +He could not keep still an instant; he twisted from side to side, +swinging his legs with incredible swiftness. + +"Ma-ah, I want to go ho-ome." + +"Pehave!" exclaimed his mother, shaking him by the arm; "loog, der +leedle girl is watchun you. Dis is der last dime I take you to der blay, +you see." + +"I don't ca-are; I'm sleepy." At length, to their great relief, he went +to sleep, his head against his mother's arm. + +The kinetoscope fairly took their breaths away. + +"What will they do next?" observed Trina, in amazement. "Ain't that +wonderful, Mac?" + +McTeague was awe-struck. + +"Look at that horse move his head," he cried excitedly, quite carried +away. "Look at that cable car coming--and the man going across the +street. See, here comes a truck. Well, I never in all my life! What +would Marcus say to this?" + +"It's all a drick!" exclaimed Mrs. Sieppe, with sudden conviction. "I +ain't no fool; dot's nothun but a drick." + +"Well, of course, mamma," exclaimed Trina, "it's----" + +But Mrs. Sieppe put her head in the air. + +"I'm too old to be fooled," she persisted. "It's a drick." Nothing more +could be got out of her than this. + +The party stayed to the very end of the show, though the kinetoscope was +the last number but one on the programme, and fully half the audience +left immediately afterward. However, while the unfortunate Irish +comedian went through his "act" to the backs of the departing people, +Mrs. Sieppe woke Owgooste, very cross and sleepy, and began getting +her "things together." As soon as he was awake Owgooste began fidgeting +again. + +"Save der brogramme, Trina," whispered Mrs. Sieppe. "Take ut home to +popper. Where is der hat of Owgooste? Haf you got mein handkerchief, +Trina?" + +But at this moment a dreadful accident happened to Owgooste; his +distress reached its climax; his fortitude collapsed. What a misery! +It was a veritable catastrophe, deplorable, lamentable, a thing beyond +words! For a moment he gazed wildly about him, helpless and petrified +with astonishment and terror. Then his grief found utterance, and the +closing strains of the orchestra were mingled with a prolonged wail of +infinite sadness. + +"Owgooste, what is ut?" cried his mother eyeing him with dawning +suspicion; then suddenly, "What haf you done? You haf ruin your new +Vauntleroy gostume!" Her face blazed; without more ado she smacked him +soundly. Then it was that Owgooste touched the limit of his misery, +his unhappiness, his horrible discomfort; his utter wretchedness was +complete. He filled the air with his doleful outcries. The more he was +smacked and shaken, the louder he wept. + +"What--what is the matter?" inquired McTeague. + +Trina's face was scarlet. "Nothing, nothing," she exclaimed hastily, +looking away. "Come, we must be going. It's about over." The end of the +show and the breaking up of the audience tided over the embarrassment of +the moment. + +The party filed out at the tail end of the audience. Already the lights +were being extinguished and the ushers spreading druggeting over the +upholstered seats. + +McTeague and the Sieppes took an uptown car that would bring them near +Polk Street. The car was crowded; McTeague and Owgooste were obliged to +stand. The little boy fretted to be taken in his mother's lap, but Mrs. +Sieppe emphatically refused. + +On their way home they discussed the performance. + +"I--I like best der yodlers." + +"Ah, the soloist was the best--the lady who sang those sad songs." + +"Wasn't--wasn't that magic lantern wonderful, where the figures moved? +Wonderful--ah, wonderful! And wasn't that first act funny, where the +fellow fell down all the time? And that musical act, and the fellow with +the burnt-cork face who played 'Nearer, My God, to Thee' on the beer +bottles." + +They got off at Polk Street and walked up a block to the flat. The +street was dark and empty; opposite the flat, in the back of the +deserted market, the ducks and geese were calling persistently. + +As they were buying their tamales from the half-breed Mexican at the +street corner, McTeague observed: + +"Marcus ain't gone to bed yet. See, there's a light in his window. +There!" he exclaimed at once, "I forgot the doorkey. Well, Marcus can +let us in." + +Hardly had he rung the bell at the street door of the flat when the +bolt was shot back. In the hall at the top of the long, narrow staircase +there was the sound of a great scurrying. Maria Macapa stood there, +her hand upon the rope that drew the bolt; Marcus was at her side; +Old Grannis was in the background, looking over their shoulders; while +little Miss Baker leant over the banisters, a strange man in a drab +overcoat at her side. As McTeague's party stepped into the doorway a +half-dozen voices cried: + +"Yes, it's them." + +"Is that you, Mac?" + +"Is that you, Miss Sieppe?" + +"Is your name Trina Sieppe?" + +Then, shriller than all the rest, Maria Macapa screamed: + +"Oh, Miss Sieppe, come up here quick. Your lottery ticket has won five +thousand dollars!" + + + +CHAPTER 7 + + +"What nonsense!" answered Trina. + +"Ach Gott! What is ut?" cried Mrs. Sieppe, misunderstanding, supposing a +calamity. + +"What--what--what," stammered the dentist, confused by the lights, the +crowded stairway, the medley of voices. The party reached the landing. +The others surrounded them. Marcus alone seemed to rise to the occasion. + +"Le' me be the first to congratulate you," he cried, catching Trina's +hand. Every one was talking at once. + +"Miss Sieppe, Miss Sieppe, your ticket has won five thousand dollars," +cried Maria. "Don't you remember the lottery ticket I sold you in Doctor +McTeague's office?" + +"Trina!" almost screamed her mother. "Five tausend thalers! five tausend +thalers! If popper were only here!" + +"What is it--what is it?" exclaimed McTeague, rolling his eyes. + +"What are you going to do with it, Trina?" inquired Marcus. + +"You're a rich woman, my dear," said Miss Baker, her little false curls +quivering with excitement, "and I'm glad for your sake. Let me kiss you. +To think I was in the room when you bought the ticket!" + +"Oh, oh!" interrupted Trina, shaking her head, "there is a mistake. +There must be. Why--why should I win five thousand dollars? It's +nonsense!" + +"No mistake, no mistake," screamed Maria. "Your number was 400,012. Here +it is in the paper this evening. I remember it well, because I keep an +account." + +"But I know you're wrong," answered Trina, beginning to tremble in spite +of herself. "Why should I win?" + +"Eh? Why shouldn't you?" cried her mother. + +In fact, why shouldn't she? The idea suddenly occurred to Trina. After +all, it was not a question of effort or merit on her part. Why should +she suppose a mistake? What if it were true, this wonderful fillip of +fortune striking in there like some chance-driven bolt? + +"Oh, do you think so?" she gasped. + +The stranger in the drab overcoat came forward. + +"It's the agent," cried two or three voices, simultaneously. + +"I guess you're one of the lucky ones, Miss Sieppe," he said. "I suppose +you have kept your ticket." + +"Yes, yes; four three oughts twelve--I remember." + +"That's right," admitted the other. "Present your ticket at the local +branch office as soon as possible--the address is printed on the back +of the ticket--and you'll receive a check on our bank for five thousand +dollars. Your number will have to be verified on our official list, but +there's hardly a chance of a mistake. I congratulate you." + +All at once a great shrill of gladness surged up in Trina. She was to +possess five thousand dollars. She was carried away with the joy of her +good fortune, a natural, spontaneous joy--the gaiety of a child with a +new and wonderful toy. + +"Oh, I've won, I've won, I've won!" she cried, clapping her hands. +"Mamma, think of it. I've won five thousand dollars, just by buying a +ticket. Mac, what do you say to that? I've got five thousand dollars. +August, do you hear what's happened to sister?" + +"Kiss your mommer, Trina," suddenly commanded Mrs. Sieppe. "What efer +will you do mit all dose money, eh, Trina?" + +"Huh!" exclaimed Marcus. "Get married on it for one thing." Thereat +they all shouted with laughter. McTeague grinned, and looked about +sheepishly. "Talk about luck," muttered Marcus, shaking his head at the +dentist; then suddenly he added: + +"Well, are we going to stay talking out here in the hall all night? +Can't we all come into your 'Parlors', Mac?" + +"Sure, sure," exclaimed McTeague, hastily unlocking his door. + +"Efery botty gome," cried Mrs. Sieppe, genially. "Ain't ut so, Doktor?" + +"Everybody," repeated the dentist. "There's--there's some beer." + +"We'll celebrate, by damn!" exclaimed Marcus. "It ain't every day you +win five thousand dollars. It's only Sundays and legal holidays." Again +he set the company off into a gale of laughter. Anything was funny at a +time like this. In some way every one of them felt elated. The wheel of +fortune had come spinning close to them. They were near to this great +sum of money. It was as though they too had won. + +"Here's right where I sat when I bought that ticket," cried Trina, after +they had come into the "Parlors," and Marcus had lit the gas. "Right +here in this chair." She sat down in one of the rigid chairs under the +steel engraving. "And, Marcus, you sat here----" + +"And I was just getting out of the operating chair," interposed Miss +Baker. + +"Yes, yes. That's so; and you," continued Trina, pointing to Maria, +"came up and said, 'Buy a ticket in the lottery; just a dollar.' Oh, I +remember it just as plain as though it was yesterday, and I wasn't going +to at first----" + +"And don't you know I told Maria it was against the law?" + +"Yes, I remember, and then I gave her a dollar and put the ticket in my +pocketbook. It's in my pocketbook now at home in the top drawer of my +bureau--oh, suppose it should be stolen now," she suddenly exclaimed. + +"It's worth big money now," asserted Marcus. + +"Five thousand dollars. Who would have thought it? It's wonderful." +Everybody started and turned. It was McTeague. He stood in the middle of +the floor, wagging his huge head. He seemed to have just realized what +had happened. + +"Yes, sir, five thousand dollars!" exclaimed Marcus, with a sudden +unaccountable mirthlessness. "Five thousand dollars! Do you get on to +that? Cousin Trina and you will be rich people." + +"At six per cent, that's twenty-five dollars a month," hazarded the +agent. + +"Think of it. Think of it," muttered McTeague. He went aimlessly about +the room, his eyes wide, his enormous hands dangling. + +"A cousin of mine won forty dollars once," observed Miss Baker. "But he +spent every cent of it buying more tickets, and never won anything." + +Then the reminiscences began. Maria told about the butcher on the next +block who had won twenty dollars the last drawing. Mrs. Sieppe knew a +gasfitter in Oakland who had won several times; once a hundred dollars. +Little Miss Baker announced that she had always believed that lotteries +were wrong; but, just the same, five thousand was five thousand. + +"It's all right when you win, ain't it, Miss Baker?" observed Marcus, +with a certain sarcasm. What was the matter with Marcus? At moments he +seemed singularly out of temper. + +But the agent was full of stories. He told his experiences, the legends +and myths that had grown up around the history of the lottery; he told +of the poor newsboy with a dying mother to support who had drawn a prize +of fifteen thousand; of the man who was driven to suicide through want, +but who held (had he but known it) the number that two days after his +death drew the capital prize of thirty thousand dollars; of the little +milliner who for ten years had played the lottery without success, and +who had one day declared that she would buy but one more ticket and then +give up trying, and of how this last ticket had brought her a fortune +upon which she could retire; of tickets that had been lost or destroyed, +and whose numbers had won fabulous sums at the drawing; of criminals, +driven to vice by poverty, and who had reformed after winning +competencies; of gamblers who played the lottery as they would play +a faro bank, turning in their winnings again as soon as made, buying +thousands of tickets all over the country; of superstitions as to +terminal and initial numbers, and as to lucky days of purchase; of +marvellous coincidences--three capital prizes drawn consecutively by the +same town; a ticket bought by a millionaire and given to his boot-black, +who won a thousand dollars upon it; the same number winning the same +amount an indefinite number of times; and so on to infinity. Invariably +it was the needy who won, the destitute and starving woke to wealth and +plenty, the virtuous toiler suddenly found his reward in a ticket bought +at a hazard; the lottery was a great charity, the friend of the people, +a vast beneficent machine that recognized neither rank nor wealth nor +station. + +The company began to be very gay. Chairs and tables were brought in from +the adjoining rooms, and Maria was sent out for more beer and tamales, +and also commissioned to buy a bottle of wine and some cake for Miss +Baker, who abhorred beer. + +The "Dental Parlors" were in great confusion. Empty beer bottles stood +on the movable rack where the instruments were kept; plates and napkins +were upon the seat of the operating chair and upon the stand of shelves +in the corner, side by side with the concertina and the volumes of +"Allen's Practical Dentist." The canary woke and chittered crossly, his +feathers puffed out; the husks of tamales littered the floor; the stone +pug dog sitting before the little stove stared at the unusual scene, his +glass eyes starting from their sockets. + +They drank and feasted in impromptu fashion. Marcus Schouler assumed +the office of master of ceremonies; he was in a lather of excitement, +rushing about here and there, opening beer bottles, serving the tamales, +slapping McTeague upon the back, laughing and joking continually. He +made McTeague sit at the head of the table, with Trina at his right and +the agent at his left; he--when he sat down at all--occupied the foot, +Maria Macapa at his left, while next to her was Mrs. Sieppe, opposite +Miss Baker. Owgooste had been put to bed upon the bed-lounge. + +"Where's Old Grannis?" suddenly exclaimed Marcus. Sure enough, where had +the old Englishman gone? He had been there at first. + +"I called him down with everybody else," cried Maria Macapa, "as soon +as I saw in the paper that Miss Sieppe had won. We all came down to Mr. +Schouler's room and waited for you to come home. I think he must have +gone back to his room. I'll bet you'll find him sewing up his books." + +"No, no," observed Miss Baker, "not at this hour." + +Evidently the timid old gentleman had taken advantage of the confusion +to slip unobtrusively away. + +"I'll go bring him down," shouted Marcus; "he's got to join us." + +Miss Baker was in great agitation. + +"I--I hardly think you'd better," she murmured; "he--he--I don't think +he drinks beer." + +"He takes his amusement in sewin' up books," cried Maria. + +Marcus brought him down, nevertheless, having found him just preparing +for bed. + +"I--I must apologize," stammered Old Grannis, as he stood in the +doorway. "I had not quite expected--I--find--find myself a little +unprepared." He was without collar and cravat, owing to Marcus +Schouler's precipitate haste. He was annoyed beyond words that Miss +Baker saw him thus. Could anything be more embarrassing? + +Old Grannis was introduced to Mrs. Sieppe and to Trina as Marcus's +employer. They shook hands solemnly. + +"I don't believe that he an' Miss Baker have ever been introduced," +cried Maria Macapa, shrilly, "an' they've been livin' side by side for +years." + +The two old people were speechless, avoiding each other's gaze. It had +come at last; they were to know each other, to talk together, to touch +each other's hands. + +Marcus brought Old Grannis around the table to little Miss Baker, +dragging him by the coat sleeve, exclaiming: "Well, I thought you two +people knew each other long ago. Miss Baker, this is Mr. Grannis; Mr. +Grannis, this is Miss Baker." Neither spoke. Like two little children +they faced each other, awkward, constrained, tongue-tied with +embarrassment. Then Miss Baker put out her hand shyly. Old Grannis +touched it for an instant and let it fall. + +"Now you know each other," cried Marcus, "and it's about time." For the +first time their eyes met; Old Grannis trembled a little, putting his +hand uncertainly to his chin. Miss Baker flushed ever so slightly, but +Maria Macapa passed suddenly between them, carrying a half empty beer +bottle. The two old people fell back from one another, Miss Baker +resuming her seat. + +"Here's a place for you over here, Mr. Grannis," cried Marcus, +making room for him at his side. Old Grannis slipped into the chair, +withdrawing at once from the company's notice. He stared fixedly at +his plate and did not speak again. Old Miss Baker began to talk volubly +across the table to Mrs. Sieppe about hot-house flowers and medicated +flannels. + +It was in the midst of this little impromptu supper that the engagement +of Trina and the dentist was announced. In a pause in the chatter of +conversation Mrs. Sieppe leaned forward and, speaking to the agent, +said: + +"Vell, you know also my daughter Trina get married bretty soon. She and +der dentist, Doktor McTeague, eh, yes?" + +There was a general exclamation. + +"I thought so all along," cried Miss Baker, excitedly. "The first time I +saw them together I said, 'What a pair!'" + +"Delightful!" exclaimed the agent, "to be married and win a snug little +fortune at the same time." + +"So--So," murmured Old Grannis, nodding at his plate. + +"Good luck to you," cried Maria. + +"He's lucky enough already," growled Marcus under his breath, relapsing +for a moment into one of those strange moods of sullenness which had +marked him throughout the evening. + +Trina flushed crimson, drawing shyly nearer her mother. McTeague grinned +from ear to ear, looking around from one to another, exclaiming "Huh! +Huh!" + +But the agent rose to his feet, a newly filled beer glass in his hand. +He was a man of the world, this agent. He knew life. He was suave and +easy. A diamond was on his little finger. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. There was an instant silence. "This +is indeed a happy occasion. I--I am glad to be here to-night; to be a +witness to such good fortune; to partake in these--in this celebration. +Why, I feel almost as glad as if I had held four three oughts twelve +myself; as if the five thousand were mine instead of belonging to our +charming hostess. The good wishes of my humble self go out to Miss +Sieppe in this moment of her good fortune, and I think--in fact, I +am sure I can speak for the great institution, the great company I +represent. The company congratulates Miss Sieppe. We--they--ah--They +wish her every happiness her new fortune can procure her. It has been my +duty, my--ah--cheerful duty to call upon the winners of large prizes +and to offer the felicitation of the company. I have, in my experience, +called upon many such; but never have I seen fortune so happily bestowed +as in this case. The company have dowered the prospective bride. I am +sure I but echo the sentiments of this assembly when I wish all joy and +happiness to this happy pair, happy in the possession of a snug +little fortune, and happy--happy in--" he finished with a sudden +inspiration--"in the possession of each other; I drink to the health, +wealth, and happiness of the future bride and groom. Let us drink +standing up." They drank with enthusiasm. Marcus was carried away with +the excitement of the moment. + +"Outa sight, outa sight," he vociferated, clapping his hands. "Very well +said. To the health of the bride. McTeague, McTeague, speech, speech!" + +In an instant the whole table was clamoring for the dentist to speak. +McTeague was terrified; he gripped the table with both hands, looking +wildly about him. + +"Speech, speech!" shouted Marcus, running around the table and +endeavoring to drag McTeague up. + +"No--no--no," muttered the other. "No speech." The company rattled upon +the table with their beer glasses, insisting upon a speech. McTeague +settled obstinately into his chair, very red in the face, shaking his +head energetically. + +"Ah, go on!" he exclaimed; "no speech." + +"Ah, get up and say somethun, anyhow," persisted Marcus; "you ought to +do it. It's the proper caper." + +McTeague heaved himself up; there was a burst of applause; he looked +slowly about him, then suddenly sat down again, shaking his head +hopelessly. + +"Oh, go on, Mac," cried Trina. + +"Get up, say somethun, anyhow," cried Marcus, tugging at his arm; "you +GOT to." + +Once more McTeague rose to his feet. + +"Huh!" he exclaimed, looking steadily at the table. Then he began: + +"I don' know what to say--I--I--I ain't never made a speech before; I--I +ain't never made a speech before. But I'm glad Trina's won the prize--" + +"Yes, I'll bet you are," muttered Marcus. + +"I--I--I'm glad Trina's won, and I--I want to--I want to--I want +to--want to say that--you're--all--welcome, an' drink hearty, an' I'm +much obliged to the agent. Trina and I are goin' to be married, an' +I'm glad everybody's here to-night, an' you're--all--welcome, an' +drink hearty, an' I hope you'll come again, an' you're always +welcome--an'--I--an'--an'--That's--about--all--I--gotta say." He sat +down, wiping his forehead, amidst tremendous applause. + +Soon after that the company pushed back from the table and relaxed into +couples and groups. The men, with the exception of Old Grannis, began +to smoke, the smell of their tobacco mingling with the odors of ether, +creosote, and stale bedding, which pervaded the "Parlors." Soon the +windows had to be lowered from the top. Mrs. Sieppe and old Miss Baker +sat together in the bay window exchanging confidences. Miss Baker had +turned back the overskirt of her dress; a plate of cake was in her lap; +from time to time she sipped her wine with the delicacy of a white cat. +The two women were much interested in each other. Miss Baker told Mrs. +Sieppe all about Old Grannis, not forgetting the fiction of the title +and the unjust stepfather. + +"He's quite a personage really," said Miss Baker. + +Mrs. Sieppe led the conversation around to her children. "Ach, Trina is +sudge a goote girl," she said; "always gay, yes, und sing from morgen +to night. Und Owgooste, he is soh smart also, yes, eh? He has der genius +for machines, always making somethun mit wheels und sbrings." + +"Ah, if--if--I had children," murmured the little old maid a trifle +wistfully, "one would have been a sailor; he would have begun as a +midshipman on my brother's ship; in time he would have been an officer. +The other would have been a landscape gardener." + +"Oh, Mac!" exclaimed Trina, looking up into the dentist's face, "think +of all this money coming to us just at this very moment. Isn't it +wonderful? Don't it kind of scare you?" + +"Wonderful, wonderful!" muttered McTeague, shaking his head. "Let's buy +a lot of tickets," he added, struck with an idea. + +"Now, that's how you can always tell a good cigar," observed the agent +to Marcus as the two sat smoking at the end of the table. "The light end +should be rolled to a point." + +"Ah, the Chinese cigar-makers," cried Marcus, in a passion, brandishing +his fist. "It's them as is ruining the cause of white labor. They are, +they are for a FACT. Ah, the rat-eaters! Ah, the white-livered curs!" + +Over in the corner, by the stand of shelves, Old Grannis was listening +to Maria Macapa. The Mexican woman had been violently stirred over +Trina's sudden wealth; Maria's mind had gone back to her younger days. +She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands, her +eyes wide and fixed. Old Grannis listened to her attentively. + +"There wa'n't a piece that was so much as scratched," Maria was saying. +"Every piece was just like a mirror, smooth and bright; oh, bright as a +little sun. Such a service as that was--platters and soup tureens and an +immense big punchbowl. Five thousand dollars, what does that amount to? +Why, that punch-bowl alone was worth a fortune." + +"What a wonderful story!" exclaimed Old Grannis, never for an instant +doubting its truth. "And it's all lost now, you say?" + +"Lost, lost," repeated Maria. + +"Tut, tut! What a pity! What a pity!" + +Suddenly the agent rose and broke out with: + +"Well, I must be going, if I'm to get any car." + +He shook hands with everybody, offered a parting cigar to Marcus, +congratulated McTeague and Trina a last time, and bowed himself out. + +"What an elegant gentleman," commented Miss Baker. + +"Ah," said Marcus, nodding his head, "there's a man of the world for +you. Right on to himself, by damn!" + +The company broke up. + +"Come along, Mac," cried Marcus; "we're to sleep with the dogs to-night, +you know." + +The two friends said "Good-night" all around and departed for the little +dog hospital. + +Old Grannis hurried to his room furtively, terrified lest he should +again be brought face to face with Miss Baker. He bolted himself in and +listened until he heard her foot in the hall and the soft closing of +her door. She was there close beside him; as one might say, in the same +room; for he, too, had made the discovery as to the similarity of the +wallpaper. At long intervals he could hear a faint rustling as she moved +about. What an evening that had been for him! He had met her, had spoken +to her, had touched her hand; he was in a tremor of excitement. In a +like manner the little old dressmaker listened and quivered. HE was +there in that same room which they shared in common, separated only by +the thinnest board partition. He was thinking of her, she was almost +sure of it. They were strangers no longer; they were acquaintances, +friends. What an event that evening had been in their lives! + +Late as it was, Miss Baker brewed a cup of tea and sat down in her +rocking chair close to the partition; she rocked gently, sipping her +tea, calming herself after the emotions of that wonderful evening. + +Old Grannis heard the clinking of the tea things and smelt the faint +odor of the tea. It seemed to him a signal, an invitation. He drew his +chair close to his side of the partition, before his work-table. A pile +of half-bound "Nations" was in the little binding apparatus; he threaded +his huge upholsterer's needle with stout twine and set to work. + +It was their tete-a-tete. Instinctively they felt each other's presence, +felt each other's thought coming to them through the thin partition. +It was charming; they were perfectly happy. There in the stillness that +settled over the flat in the half hour after midnight the two old people +"kept company," enjoying after their fashion their little romance that +had come so late into the lives of each. + +On the way to her room in the garret Maria Macapa paused under the +single gas-jet that burned at the top of the well of the staircase; she +assured herself that she was alone, and then drew from her pocket one of +McTeague's "tapes" of non-cohesive gold. It was the most valuable steal +she had ever yet made in the dentist's "Parlors." She told herself that +it was worth at least a couple of dollars. Suddenly an idea occurred +to her, and she went hastily to a window at the end of the hall, and, +shading her face with both hands, looked down into the little alley just +back of the flat. On some nights Zerkow, the red-headed Polish Jew, sat +up late, taking account of the week's ragpicking. There was a dim light +in his window now. + +Maria went to her room, threw a shawl around her head, and descended +into the little back yard of the flat by the back stairs. As she let +herself out of the back gate into the alley, Alexander, Marcus's Irish +setter, woke suddenly with a gruff bark. The collie who lived on the +other side of the fence, in the back yard of the branch post-office, +answered with a snarl. Then in an instant the endless feud between +the two dogs was resumed. They dragged their respective kennels to the +fence, and through the cracks raged at each other in a frenzy of hate; +their teeth snapped and gleamed; the hackles on their backs rose and +stiffened. Their hideous clamor could have been heard for blocks around. +What a massacre should the two ever meet! + +Meanwhile, Maria was knocking at Zerkow's miserable hovel. + +"Who is it? Who is it?" cried the rag-picker from within, in his hoarse +voice, that was half whisper, starting nervously, and sweeping a handful +of silver into his drawer. + +"It's me, Maria Macapa;" then in a lower voice, and as if speaking to +herself, "had a flying squirrel an' let him go." + +"Ah, Maria," cried Zerkow, obsequiously opening the door. "Come in, come +in, my girl; you're always welcome, even as late as this. No junk, hey? +But you're welcome for all that. You'll have a drink, won't you?" He led +her into his back room and got down the whiskey bottle and the broken +red tumbler. + +After the two had drunk together Maria produced the gold "tape." +Zerkow's eyes glittered on the instant. The sight of gold invariably +sent a qualm all through him; try as he would, he could not repress it. +His fingers trembled and clawed at his mouth; his breath grew short. + +"Ah, ah, ah!" he exclaimed, "give it here, give it here; give it to me, +Maria. That's a good girl, come give it to me." + +They haggled as usual over the price, but to-night Maria was too excited +over other matters to spend much time in bickering over a few cents. + +"Look here, Zerkow," she said as soon as the transfer was made, "I got +something to tell you. A little while ago I sold a lottery ticket to a +girl at the flat; the drawing was in this evening's papers. How much do +you suppose that girl has won?" + +"I don't know. How much? How much?" + +"Five thousand dollars." + +It was as though a knife had been run through the Jew; a spasm of an +almost physical pain twisted his face--his entire body. He raised his +clenched fists into the air, his eyes shut, his teeth gnawing his lip. + +"Five thousand dollars," he whispered; "five thousand dollars. For what? +For nothing, for simply buying a ticket; and I have worked so hard for +it, so hard, so hard. Five thousand dollars, five thousand dollars. Oh, +why couldn't it have come to me?" he cried, his voice choking, the +tears starting to his eyes; "why couldn't it have come to me? To come so +close, so close, and yet to miss me--me who have worked for it, fought +for it, starved for it, am dying for it every day. Think of it, Maria, +five thousand dollars, all bright, heavy pieces----" + +"Bright as a sunset," interrupted Maria, her chin propped on her hands. +"Such a glory, and heavy. Yes, every piece was heavy, and it was all +you could do to lift the punch-bowl. Why, that punch-bowl was worth a +fortune alone----" + +"And it rang when you hit it with your knuckles, didn't it?" prompted +Zerkow, eagerly, his lips trembling, his fingers hooking themselves into +claws. + +"Sweeter'n any church bell," continued Maria. + +"Go on, go on, go on," cried Zerkow, drawing his chair closer, and +shutting his eyes in ecstasy. + +"There were more than a hundred pieces, and every one of them gold----" + +"Ah, every one of them gold." + +"You should have seen the sight when the leather trunk was opened. +There wa'n't a piece that was so much as scratched; every one was like +a mirror, smooth and bright, polished so that it looked black--you know +how I mean." + +"Oh, I know, I know," cried Zerkow, moistening his lips. + +Then he plied her with questions--questions that covered every detail +of that service of plate. It was soft, wasn't it? You could bite into a +plate and leave a dent? The handles of the knives, now, were they gold, +too? All the knife was made from one piece of gold, was it? And the +forks the same? The interior of the trunk was quilted, of course? Did +Maria ever polish the plates herself? When the company ate off this +service, it must have made a fine noise--these gold knives and forks +clinking together upon these gold plates. + +"Now, let's have it all over again, Maria," pleaded Zerkow. "Begin +now with 'There were more than a hundred pieces, and every one of them +gold.' Go on, begin, begin, begin!" + +The red-headed Pole was in a fever of excitement. Maria's recital had +become a veritable mania with him. As he listened, with closed eyes and +trembling lips, he fancied he could see that wonderful plate before him, +there on the table, under his eyes, under his hand, ponderous, massive, +gleaming. He tormented Maria into a second repetition of the story--into +a third. The more his mind dwelt upon it, the sharper grew his desire. +Then, with Maria's refusal to continue the tale, came the reaction. +Zerkow awoke as from some ravishing dream. The plate was gone, was +irretrievably lost. There was nothing in that miserable room but grimy +rags and rust-corroded iron. What torment! what agony! to be so near--so +near, to see it in one's distorted fancy as plain as in a mirror. To +know every individual piece as an old friend; to feel its weight; to +be dazzled by its glitter; to call it one's own, own; to have it to +oneself, hugged to the breast; and then to start, to wake, to come down +to the horrible reality. + +"And you, YOU had it once," gasped Zerkow, clawing at her arm; "you had +it once, all your own. Think of it, and now it's gone." + +"Gone for good and all." + +"Perhaps it's buried near your old place somewhere." + +"It's gone--gone--gone," chanted Maria in a monotone. + +Zerkow dug his nails into his scalp, tearing at his red hair. + +"Yes, yes, it's gone, it's gone--lost forever! Lost forever!" + +Marcus and the dentist walked up the silent street and reached the +little dog hospital. They had hardly spoken on the way. McTeague's brain +was in a whirl; speech failed him. He was busy thinking of the great +thing that had happened that night, and was trying to realize what its +effect would be upon his life--his life and Trina's. As soon as they had +found themselves in the street, Marcus had relapsed at once to a sullen +silence, which McTeague was too abstracted to notice. + +They entered the tiny office of the hospital with its red carpet, its +gas stove, and its colored prints of famous dogs hanging against the +walls. In one corner stood the iron bed which they were to occupy. + +"You go on an' get to bed, Mac," observed Marcus. "I'll take a look at +the dogs before I turn in." + +He went outside and passed along into the yard, that was bounded on +three sides by pens where the dogs were kept. A bull terrier dying of +gastritis recognized him and began to whimper feebly. + +Marcus paid no attention to the dogs. For the first time that evening he +was alone and could give vent to his thoughts. He took a couple of turns +up and down the yard, then suddenly in a low voice exclaimed: + +"You fool, you fool, Marcus Schouler! If you'd kept Trina you'd have +had that money. You might have had it yourself. You've thrown away your +chance in life--to give up the girl, yes--but this," he stamped his foot +with rage--"to throw five thousand dollars out of the window--to stuff +it into the pockets of someone else, when it might have been yours, when +you might have had Trina AND the money--and all for what? Because we +were pals. Oh, 'pals' is all right--but five thousand dollars--to have +played it right into his hands--God DAMN the luck!" + + + +CHAPTER 8 + + +The next two months were delightful. Trina and McTeague saw each other +regularly, three times a week. The dentist went over to B Street Sunday +and Wednesday afternoons as usual; but on Fridays it was Trina who came +to the city. She spent the morning between nine and twelve o'clock down +town, for the most part in the cheap department stores, doing the weekly +shopping for herself and the family. At noon she took an uptown car and +met McTeague at the corner of Polk Street. The two lunched together at +a small uptown hotel just around the corner on Sutter Street. They +were given a little room to themselves. Nothing could have been more +delicious. They had but to close the sliding door to shut themselves off +from the whole world. + +Trina would arrive breathless from her raids upon the bargain counters, +her pale cheeks flushed, her hair blown about her face and into the +corners of her lips, her mother's net reticule stuffed to bursting. Once +in their tiny private room, she would drop into her chair with a little +groan. + +"Oh, MAC, I am so tired; I've just been all OVER town. Oh, it's good to +sit down. Just think, I had to stand up in the car all the way, after +being on my feet the whole blessed morning. Look here what I've bought. +Just things and things. Look, there's some dotted veiling I got for +myself; see now, do you think it looks pretty?"--she spread it over her +face--"and I got a box of writing paper, and a roll of crepe paper to +make a lamp shade for the front parlor; and--what do you suppose--I +saw a pair of Nottingham lace curtains for FORTY-NINE CENTS; isn't that +cheap? and some chenille portieres for two and a half. Now what have +YOU been doing since I last saw you? Did Mr. Heise finally get up enough +courage to have his tooth pulled yet?" Trina took off her hat and veil +and rearranged her hair before the looking-glass. + +"No, no--not yet. I went down to the sign painter's yesterday afternoon +to see about that big gold tooth for a sign. It costs too much; I can't +get it yet a while. There's two kinds, one German gilt and the other +French gilt; but the German gilt is no good." + +McTeague sighed, and wagged his head. Even Trina and the five thousand +dollars could not make him forget this one unsatisfied longing. + +At other times they would talk at length over their plans, while Trina +sipped her chocolate and McTeague devoured huge chunks of butterless +bread. They were to be married at the end of May, and the dentist +already had his eye on a couple of rooms, part of the suite of a +bankrupt photographer. They were situated in the flat, just back of his +"Parlors," and he believed the photographer would sublet them furnished. + +McTeague and Trina had no apprehensions as to their finances. They could +be sure, in fact, of a tidy little income. The dentist's practice was +fairly good, and they could count upon the interest of Trina's five +thousand dollars. To McTeague's mind this interest seemed woefully +small. He had had uncertain ideas about that five thousand dollars; had +imagined that they would spend it in some lavish fashion; would buy +a house, perhaps, or would furnish their new rooms with overwhelming +luxury--luxury that implied red velvet carpets and continued feasting. +The oldtime miner's idea of wealth easily gained and quickly spent +persisted in his mind. But when Trina had begun to talk of investments +and interests and per cents, he was troubled and not a little +disappointed. The lump sum of five thousand dollars was one thing, a +miserable little twenty or twenty-five a month was quite another; and +then someone else had the money. + +"But don't you see, Mac," explained Trina, "it's ours just the same. We +could get it back whenever we wanted it; and then it's the reasonable +way to do. We mustn't let it turn our heads, Mac, dear, like that man +that spent all he won in buying more tickets. How foolish we'd feel +after we'd spent it all! We ought to go on just the same as before; as +if we hadn't won. We must be sensible about it, mustn't we?" + +"Well, well, I guess perhaps that's right," the dentist would answer, +looking slowly about on the floor. + +Just what should ultimately be done with the money was the subject of +endless discussion in the Sieppe family. The savings bank would allow +only three per cent., but Trina's parents believed that something better +could be got. + +"There's Uncle Oelbermann," Trina had suggested, remembering the rich +relative who had the wholesale toy store in the Mission. + +Mr. Sieppe struck his hand to his forehead. "Ah, an idea," he cried. +In the end an agreement was made. The money was invested in Mr. +Oelbermann's business. He gave Trina six per cent. + +Invested in this fashion, Trina's winning would bring in twenty-five +dollars a month. But, besides this, Trina had her own little trade. She +made Noah's ark animals for Uncle Oelbermann's store. Trina's ancestors +on both sides were German-Swiss, and some long-forgotten forefather of +the sixteenth century, some worsted-leggined wood-carver of the Tyrol, +had handed down the talent of the national industry, to reappear in this +strangely distorted guise. + +She made Noah's ark animals, whittling them out of a block of soft wood +with a sharp jack-knife, the only instrument she used. Trina was very +proud to explain her work to McTeague as he had already explained his +own to her. + +"You see, I take a block of straight-grained pine and cut out the shape, +roughly at first, with the big blade; then I go over it a second time +with the little blade, more carefully; then I put in the ears and tail +with a drop of glue, and paint it with a 'non-poisonous' paint--Vandyke +brown for the horses, foxes, and cows; slate gray for the elephants and +camels; burnt umber for the chickens, zebras, and so on; then, last, a +dot of Chinese white for the eyes, and there you are, all finished. They +sell for nine cents a dozen. Only I can't make the manikins." + +"The manikins?" + +"The little figures, you know--Noah and his wife, and Shem, and all the +others." + +It was true. Trina could not whittle them fast enough and cheap enough +to compete with the turning lathe, that could throw off whole tribes +and peoples of manikins while she was fashioning one family. Everything +else, however, she made--the ark itself, all windows and no door; the +box in which the whole was packed; even down to pasting on the label, +which read, "Made in France." She earned from three to four dollars a +week. + +The income from these three sources, McTeague's profession, the interest +of the five thousand dollars, and Trina's whittling, made a respectable +little sum taken altogether. Trina declared they could even lay by +something, adding to the five thousand dollars little by little. + +It soon became apparent that Trina would be an extraordinarily good +housekeeper. Economy was her strong point. A good deal of peasant blood +still ran undiluted in her veins, and she had all the instinct of a +hardy and penurious mountain race--the instinct which saves without any +thought, without idea of consequence--saving for the sake of saving, +hoarding without knowing why. Even McTeague did not know how closely +Trina held to her new-found wealth. + +But they did not always pass their luncheon hour in this discussion +of incomes and economies. As the dentist came to know his little woman +better she grew to be more and more of a puzzle and a joy to him. She +would suddenly interrupt a grave discourse upon the rents of rooms and +the cost of light and fuel with a brusque outburst of affection that +set him all a-tremble with delight. All at once she would set down her +chocolate, and, leaning across the narrow table, would exclaim: + +"Never mind all that! Oh, Mac, do you truly, really love me--love me +BIG?" + +McTeague would stammer something, gasping, and wagging his head, beside +himself for the lack of words. + +"Old bear," Trina would answer, grasping him by both huge ears and +swaying his head from side to side. "Kiss me, then. Tell me, Mac, did +you think any less of me that first time I let you kiss me there in the +station? Oh, Mac, dear, what a funny nose you've got, all full of hairs +inside; and, Mac, do you know you've got a bald spot--" she dragged his +head down towards her--"right on the top of your head." Then she would +seriously kiss the bald spot in question, declaring: + +"That'll make the hair grow." + +Trina took an infinite enjoyment in playing with McTeague's great +square-cut head, rumpling his hair till it stood on end, putting her +fingers in his eyes, or stretching his ears out straight, and watching +the effect with her head on one side. It was like a little child playing +with some gigantic, good-natured Saint Bernard. + +One particular amusement they never wearied of. The two would lean +across the table towards each other, McTeague folding his arms under his +breast. Then Trina, resting on her elbows, would part his mustache-the +great blond mustache of a viking--with her two hands, pushing it up from +his lips, causing his face to assume the appearance of a Greek mask. She +would curl it around either forefinger, drawing it to a fine end. Then +all at once McTeague would make a fearful snorting noise through his +nose. Invariably--though she was expecting this, though it was part of +the game--Trina would jump with a stifled shriek. McTeague would bellow +with laughter till his eyes watered. Then they would recommence upon the +instant, Trina protesting with a nervous tremulousness: + +"Now--now--now, Mac, DON'T; you SCARE me so." + +But these delicious tete-a-tetes with Trina were offset by a certain +coolness that Marcus Schouler began to affect towards the dentist. At +first McTeague was unaware of it; but by this time even his slow wits +began to perceive that his best friend--his "pal"--was not the same to +him as formerly. They continued to meet at lunch nearly every day but +Friday at the car conductors' coffee-joint. But Marcus was sulky; there +could be no doubt about that. He avoided talking to McTeague, read the +paper continually, answering the dentist's timid efforts at conversation +in gruff monosyllables. Sometimes, even, he turned sideways to the table +and talked at great length to Heise the harness-maker, whose table was +next to theirs. They took no more long walks together when Marcus +went out to exercise the dogs. Nor did Marcus ever again recur to his +generosity in renouncing Trina. + +One Tuesday, as McTeague took his place at the table in the +coffee-joint, he found Marcus already there. + +"Hello, Mark," said the dentist, "you here already?" + +"Hello," returned the other, indifferently, helping himself to tomato +catsup. There was a silence. After a long while Marcus suddenly looked +up. + +"Say, Mac," he exclaimed, "when you going to pay me that money you owe +me?" + +McTeague was astonished. + +"Huh? What? I don't--do I owe you any money, Mark?" + +"Well, you owe me four bits," returned Marcus, doggedly. "I paid for you +and Trina that day at the picnic, and you never gave it back." + +"Oh--oh!" answered McTeague, in distress. "That's so, that's so. I--you +ought to have told me before. Here's your money, and I'm obliged to +you." + +"It ain't much," observed Marcus, sullenly. "But I need all I can get +now-a-days." + +"Are you--are you broke?" inquired McTeague. + +"And I ain't saying anything about your sleeping at the hospital that +night, either," muttered Marcus, as he pocketed the coin. + +"Well--well--do you mean--should I have paid for that?" + +"Well, you'd 'a' had to sleep SOMEWHERES, wouldn't you?" flashed out +Marcus. "You 'a' had to pay half a dollar for a bed at the flat." + +"All right, all right," cried the dentist, hastily, feeling in his +pockets. "I don't want you should be out anything on my account, old +man. Here, will four bits do?" + +"I don't WANT your damn money," shouted Marcus in a sudden rage, +throwing back the coin. "I ain't no beggar." + +McTeague was miserable. How had he offended his pal? + +"Well, I want you should take it, Mark," he said, pushing it towards +him. + +"I tell you I won't touch your money," exclaimed the other through his +clenched teeth, white with passion. "I've been played for a sucker long +enough." + +"What's the matter with you lately, Mark?" remonstrated McTeague. +"You've got a grouch about something. Is there anything I've done?" + +"Well, that's all right, that's all right," returned Marcus as he rose +from the table. "That's all right. I've been played for a sucker long +enough, that's all. I've been played for a sucker long enough." He went +away with a parting malevolent glance. + +At the corner of Polk Street, between the flat and the car conductors' +coffee-joint, was Frenna's. It was a corner grocery; advertisements for +cheap butter and eggs, painted in green marking-ink upon wrapping paper, +stood about on the sidewalk outside. The doorway was decorated with a +huge Milwaukee beer sign. Back of the store proper was a bar where white +sand covered the floor. A few tables and chairs were scattered here +and there. The walls were hung with gorgeously-colored tobacco +advertisements and colored lithographs of trotting horses. On the wall +behind the bar was a model of a full-rigged ship enclosed in a bottle. + +It was at this place that the dentist used to leave his pitcher to +be filled on Sunday afternoons. Since his engagement to Trina he had +discontinued this habit. However, he still dropped into Frenna's one or +two nights in the week. He spent a pleasant hour there, smoking his huge +porcelain pipe and drinking his beer. He never joined any of the groups +of piquet players around the tables. In fact, he hardly spoke to anyone +but the bartender and Marcus. + +For Frenna's was one of Marcus Schouler's haunts; a great deal of his +time was spent there. He involved himself in fearful political and +social discussions with Heise the harness-maker, and with one or two old +German, habitues of the place. These discussions Marcus carried on, as +was his custom, at the top of his voice, gesticulating fiercely, banging +the table with his fists, brandishing the plates and glasses, exciting +himself with his own clamor. + +On a certain Saturday evening, a few days after the scene at the +coffee-joint, the dentist bethought him to spend a quiet evening at +Frenna's. He had not been there for some time, and, besides that, it +occurred to him that the day was his birthday. He would permit himself +an extra pipe and a few glasses of beer. When McTeague entered Frenna's +back room by the street door, he found Marcus and Heise already +installed at one of the tables. Two or three of the old Germans sat +opposite them, gulping their beer from time to time. Heise was smoking +a cigar, but Marcus had before him his fourth whiskey cocktail. At the +moment of McTeague's entrance Marcus had the floor. + +"It can't be proven," he was yelling. "I defy any sane politician whose +eyes are not blinded by party prejudices, whose opinions are not warped +by a personal bias, to substantiate such a statement. Look at your +facts, look at your figures. I am a free American citizen, ain't I? +I pay my taxes to support a good government, don't I? It's a contract +between me and the government, ain't it? Well, then, by damn! if the +authorities do not or will not afford me protection for life, liberty, +and the pursuit of happiness, then my obligations are at an end; I +withhold my taxes. I do--I do--I say I do. What?" He glared about him, +seeking opposition. + +"That's nonsense," observed Heise, quietly. "Try it once; you'll get +jugged." But this observation of the harness-maker's roused Marcus to +the last pitch of frenzy. + +"Yes, ah, yes!" he shouted, rising to his feet, shaking his finger in +the other's face. "Yes, I'd go to jail; but because I--I am crushed by a +tyranny, does that make the tyranny right? Does might make right?" + +"You must make less noise in here, Mister Schouler," said Frenna, from +behind the bar. + +"Well, it makes me mad," answered Marcus, subsiding into a growl and +resuming his chair. "Hullo, Mac." + +"Hullo, Mark." + +But McTeague's presence made Marcus uneasy, rousing in him at once a +sense of wrong. He twisted to and fro in his chair, shrugging first one +shoulder and then another. Quarrelsome at all times, the heat of +the previous discussion had awakened within him all his natural +combativeness. Besides this, he was drinking his fourth cocktail. + +McTeague began filling his big porcelain pipe. He lit it, blew a great +cloud of smoke into the room, and settled himself comfortably in his +chair. The smoke of his cheap tobacco drifted into the faces of +the group at the adjoining table, and Marcus strangled and coughed. +Instantly his eyes flamed. + +"Say, for God's sake," he vociferated, "choke off on that pipe! If +you've got to smoke rope like that, smoke it in a crowd of muckers; +don't come here amongst gentlemen." + +"Shut up, Schouler!" observed Heise in a low voice. + +McTeague was stunned by the suddenness of the attack. He took his pipe +from his mouth, and stared blankly at Marcus; his lips moved, but he +said no word. Marcus turned his back on him, and the dentist resumed his +pipe. + +But Marcus was far from being appeased. McTeague could not hear the talk +that followed between him and the harnessmaker, but it seemed to him +that Marcus was telling Heise of some injury, some grievance, and that +the latter was trying to pacify him. All at once their talk grew louder. +Heise laid a retaining hand upon his companion's coat sleeve, but Marcus +swung himself around in his chair, and, fixing his eyes on McTeague, +cried as if in answer to some protestation on the part of Heise: + +"All I know is that I've been soldiered out of five thousand dollars." + +McTeague gaped at him, bewildered. He removed his pipe from his mouth +a second time, and stared at Marcus with eyes full of trouble and +perplexity. + +"If I had my rights," cried Marcus, bitterly, "I'd have part of that +money. It's my due--it's only justice." The dentist still kept silence. + +"If it hadn't been for me," Marcus continued, addressing himself +directly to McTeague, "you wouldn't have had a cent of it--no, not a +cent. Where's my share, I'd like to know? Where do I come in? No, I +ain't in it any more. I've been played for a sucker, an' now that you've +got all you can out of me, now that you've done me out of my girl and +out of my money, you give me the go-by. Why, where would you have +been TO-DAY if it hadn't been for me?" Marcus shouted in a sudden +exasperation, "You'd a been plugging teeth at two bits an hour. Ain't +you got any gratitude? Ain't you got any sense of decency?" + +"Ah, hold up, Schouler," grumbled Heise. "You don't want to get into a +row." + +"No, I don't, Heise," returned Marcus, with a plaintive, aggrieved air. +"But it's too much sometimes when you think of it. He stole away my +girl's affections, and now that he's rich and prosperous, and has got +five thousand dollars that I might have had, he gives me the go-by; he's +played me for a sucker. Look here," he cried, turning again to McTeague, +"do I get any of that money?" + +"It ain't mine to give," answered McTeague. "You're drunk, that's what +you are." + +"Do I get any of that money?" cried Marcus, persistently. + +The dentist shook his head. "No, you don't get any of it." + +"Now--NOW," clamored the other, turning to the harnessmaker, as though +this explained everything. "Look at that, look at that. Well, I've done +with you from now on." Marcus had risen to his feet by this time and +made as if to leave, but at every instant he came back, shouting his +phrases into McTeague's face, moving off again as he spoke the last +words, in order to give them better effect. + +"This settles it right here. I've done with you. Don't you ever dare +speak to me again"--his voice was shaking with fury--"and don't you sit +at my table in the restaurant again. I'm sorry I ever lowered myself +to keep company with such dirt. Ah, one-horse dentist! Ah, ten-cent +zinc-plugger--hoodlum--MUCKER! Get your damn smoke outa my face." + +Then matters reached a sudden climax. In his agitation the dentist had +been pulling hard on his pipe, and as Marcus for the last time thrust +his face close to his own, McTeague, in opening his lips to reply, +blew a stifling, acrid cloud directly in Marcus Schouler's eyes. Marcus +knocked the pipe from his fingers with a sudden flash of his hand; it +spun across the room and broke into a dozen fragments in a far corner. + +McTeague rose to his feet, his eyes wide. But as yet he was not angry, +only surprised, taken all aback by the suddenness of Marcus Schouler's +outbreak as well as by its unreasonableness. Why had Marcus broken his +pipe? What did it all mean, anyway? As he rose the dentist made a vague +motion with his right hand. Did Marcus misinterpret it as a gesture of +menace? He sprang back as though avoiding a blow. All at once there was +a cry. Marcus had made a quick, peculiar motion, swinging his arm upward +with a wide and sweeping gesture; his jack-knife lay open in his palm; +it shot forward as he flung it, glinted sharply by McTeague's head, and +struck quivering into the wall behind. + +A sudden chill ran through the room; the others stood transfixed, as at +the swift passage of some cold and deadly wind. Death had stooped there +for an instant, had stooped and past, leaving a trail of terror and +confusion. Then the door leading to the street slammed; Marcus had +disappeared. + +Thereon a great babel of exclamation arose. The tension of that all but +fatal instant snapped, and speech became once more possible. + +"He would have knifed you." + +"Narrow escape." + +"What kind of a man do you call THAT?" + +"'Tain't his fault he ain't a murderer." + +"I'd have him up for it." + +"And they two have been the greatest kind of friends." + +"He didn't touch you, did he?" + +"No--no--no." + +"What a--what a devil! What treachery! A regular greaser trick!" + +"Look out he don't stab you in the back. If that's the kind of man he +is, you never can tell." + +Frenna drew the knife from the wall. + +"Guess I'll keep this toad-stabber," he observed. "That fellow won't +come round for it in a hurry; goodsized blade, too." The group examined +it with intense interest. + +"Big enough to let the life out of any man," observed Heise. + +"What--what--what did he do it for?" stammered McTeague. "I got no +quarrel with him." + +He was puzzled and harassed by the strangeness of it all. Marcus would +have killed him; had thrown his knife at him in the true, uncanny +"greaser" style. It was inexplicable. McTeague sat down again, looking +stupidly about on the floor. In a corner of the room his eye encountered +his broken pipe, a dozen little fragments of painted porcelain and the +stem of cherry wood and amber. + +At that sight his tardy wrath, ever lagging behind the original affront, +suddenly blazed up. Instantly his huge jaws clicked together. + +"He can't make small of ME," he exclaimed, suddenly. "I'll show Marcus +Schouler--I'll show him--I'll----" + +He got up and clapped on his hat. + +"Now, Doctor," remonstrated Heise, standing between him and the door, +"don't go make a fool of yourself." + +"Let 'um alone," joined in Frenna, catching the dentist by the arm; +"he's full, anyhow." + +"He broke my pipe," answered McTeague. + +It was this that had roused him. The thrown knife, the attempt on +his life, was beyond his solution; but the breaking of his pipe he +understood clearly enough. + +"I'll show him," he exclaimed. + +As though they had been little children, McTeague set Frenna and the +harness-maker aside, and strode out at the door like a raging elephant. +Heise stood rubbing his shoulder. + +"Might as well try to stop a locomotive," he muttered. "The man's made +of iron." + +Meanwhile, McTeague went storming up the street toward the flat, wagging +his head and grumbling to himself. Ah, Marcus would break his pipe, +would he? Ah, he was a zinc-plugger, was he? He'd show Marcus Schouler. +No one should make small of him. He tramped up the stairs to Marcus's +room. The door was locked. The dentist put one enormous hand on the knob +and pushed the door in, snapping the wood-work, tearing off the lock. +Nobody--the room was dark and empty. Never mind, Marcus would have to +come home some time that night. McTeague would go down and wait for him +in his "Parlors." He was bound to hear him as he came up the stairs. + +As McTeague reached his room he stumbled over, in the darkness, a big +packing-box that stood in the hallway just outside his door. Puzzled, he +stepped over it, and lighting the gas in his room, dragged it inside and +examined it. + +It was addressed to him. What could it mean? He was expecting nothing. +Never since he had first furnished his room had packing-cases been left +for him in this fashion. No mistake was possible. There were his name +and address unmistakably. "Dr. McTeague, dentist--Polk Street, San +Francisco, Cal.," and the red Wells Fargo tag. + +Seized with the joyful curiosity of an overgrown boy, he pried off the +boards with the corner of his fireshovel. The case was stuffed full +of excelsior. On the top lay an envelope addressed to him in Trina's +handwriting. He opened it and read, "For my dear Mac's birthday, from +Trina;" and below, in a kind of post-script, "The man will be round +to-morrow to put it in place." McTeague tore away the excelsior. +Suddenly he uttered an exclamation. + +It was the Tooth--the famous golden molar with its huge prongs--his +sign, his ambition, the one unrealized dream of his life; and it was +French gilt, too, not the cheap German gilt that was no good. Ah, what +a dear little woman was this Trina, to keep so quiet, to remember his +birthday! + +"Ain't she--ain't she just a--just a JEWEL," exclaimed McTeague under +his breath, "a JEWEL--yes, just a JEWEL; that's the word." + +Very carefully he removed the rest of the excelsior, and lifting the +ponderous Tooth from its box, set it upon the marble-top centre table. +How immense it looked in that little room! The thing was tremendous, +overpowering--the tooth of a gigantic fossil, golden and dazzling. +Beside it everything seemed dwarfed. Even McTeague himself, big boned +and enormous as he was, shrank and dwindled in the presence of the +monster. As for an instant he bore it in his hands, it was like a puny +Gulliver struggling with the molar of some vast Brobdingnag. + +The dentist circled about that golden wonder, gasping with delight +and stupefaction, touching it gingerly with his hands as if it were +something sacred. At every moment his thought returned to Trina. +No, never was there such a little woman as his--the very thing he +wanted--how had she remembered? And the money, where had that come from? +No one knew better than he how expensive were these signs; not another +dentist on Polk Street could afford one. Where, then, had Trina found +the money? It came out of her five thousand dollars, no doubt. + +But what a wonderful, beautiful tooth it was, to be sure, bright as a +mirror, shining there in its coat of French gilt, as if with a light of +its own! No danger of that tooth turning black with the weather, as did +the cheap German gilt impostures. What would that other dentist, that +poser, that rider of bicycles, that courser of greyhounds, say when he +should see this marvellous molar run out from McTeague's bay window like +a flag of defiance? No doubt he would suffer veritable convulsions of +envy; would be positively sick with jealousy. If McTeague could only see +his face at the moment! + +For a whole hour the dentist sat there in his little "Parlor," gazing +ecstatically at his treasure, dazzled, supremely content. The whole room +took on a different aspect because of it. The stone pug dog before the +little stove reflected it in his protruding eyes; the canary woke and +chittered feebly at this new gilt, so much brighter than the bars of its +little prison. Lorenzo de' Medici, in the steel engraving, sitting in +the heart of his court, seemed to ogle the thing out of the corner of +one eye, while the brilliant colors of the unused rifle manufacturer's +calendar seemed to fade and pale in the brilliance of this greater +glory. + +At length, long after midnight, the dentist started to go to bed, +undressing himself with his eyes still fixed on the great tooth. All at +once he heard Marcus Schouler's foot on the stairs; he started up with +his fists clenched, but immediately dropped back upon the bed-lounge +with a gesture of indifference. + +He was in no truculent state of mind now. He could not reinstate himself +in that mood of wrath wherein he had left the corner grocery. The tooth +had changed all that. What was Marcus Schouler's hatred to him, who had +Trina's affection? What did he care about a broken pipe now that he had +the tooth? Let him go. As Frenna said, he was not worth it. He heard +Marcus come out into the hall, shouting aggrievedly to anyone within +sound of his voice: + +"An' now he breaks into my room--into my room, by damn! How do I know +how many things he's stolen? It's come to stealing from me, now, has +it?" He went into his room, banging his splintered door. + +McTeague looked upward at the ceiling, in the direction of the voice, +muttering: + +"Ah, go to bed, you." + +He went to bed himself, turning out the gas, but leaving the +window-curtains up so that he could see the tooth the last thing before +he went to sleep and the first thing as he arose in the morning. + +But he was restless during the night. Every now and then he was awakened +by noises to which he had long since become accustomed. Now it was the +cackling of the geese in the deserted market across the street; now it +was the stoppage of the cable, the sudden silence coming almost like +a shock; and now it was the infuriated barking of the dogs in the back +yard--Alec, the Irish setter, and the collie that belonged to the branch +post-office raging at each other through the fence, snarling their +endless hatred into each other's faces. As often as he woke, McTeague +turned and looked for the tooth, with a sudden suspicion that he +had only that moment dreamed the whole business. But he always found +it--Trina's gift, his birthday from his little woman--a huge, vague +bulk, looming there through the half darkness in the centre of the room, +shining dimly out as if with some mysterious light of its own. + + + +CHAPTER 9 + + +Trina and McTeague were married on the first day of June, in the +photographer's rooms that the dentist had rented. All through May the +Sieppe household had been turned upside down. The little box of a +house vibrated with excitement and confusion, for not only were the +preparations for Trina's marriage to be made, but also the preliminaries +were to be arranged for the hegira of the entire Sieppe family. + +They were to move to the southern part of the State the day after +Trina's marriage, Mr. Sieppe having bought a third interest in an +upholstering business in the suburbs of Los Angeles. It was possible +that Marcus Schouler would go with them. + +Not Stanley penetrating for the first time into the Dark Continent, +not Napoleon leading his army across the Alps, was more weighted with +responsibility, more burdened with care, more overcome with the sense +of the importance of his undertaking, than was Mr. Sieppe during this +period of preparation. From dawn to dark, from dark to early dawn, he +toiled and planned and fretted, organizing and reorganizing, projecting +and devising. The trunks were lettered, A, B, and C, the packages and +smaller bundles numbered. Each member of the family had his especial +duty to perform, his particular bundles to oversee. Not a detail was +forgotten--fares, prices, and tips were calculated to two places of +decimals. Even the amount of food that it would be necessary to carry +for the black greyhound was determined. Mrs. Sieppe was to look after +the lunch, "der gomisariat." Mr. Sieppe would assume charge of the +checks, the money, the tickets, and, of course, general supervision. The +twins would be under the command of Owgooste, who, in turn, would report +for orders to his father. + +Day in and day out these minutiae were rehearsed. The children were +drilled in their parts with a military exactitude; obedience and +punctuality became cardinal virtues. The vast importance of the +undertaking was insisted upon with scrupulous iteration. It was a +manoeuvre, an army changing its base of operations, a veritable tribal +migration. + +On the other hand, Trina's little room was the centre around which +revolved another and different order of things. The dressmaker came +and went, congratulatory visitors invaded the little front parlor, +the chatter of unfamiliar voices resounded from the front steps; +bonnet-boxes and yards of dress-goods littered the beds and chairs; +wrapping paper, tissue paper, and bits of string strewed the floor; +a pair of white satin slippers stood on a corner of the toilet table; +lengths of white veiling, like a snow-flurry, buried the little +work-table; and a mislaid box of artificial orange blossoms was finally +discovered behind the bureau. + +The two systems of operation often clashed and tangled. Mrs. Sieppe was +found by her harassed husband helping Trina with the waist of her gown +when she should have been slicing cold chicken in the kitchen. Mr. +Sieppe packed his frock coat, which he would have to wear at the +wedding, at the very bottom of "Trunk C." The minister, who called to +offer his congratulations and to make arrangements, was mistaken for the +expressman. + +McTeague came and went furtively, dizzied and made uneasy by all this +bustle. He got in the way; he trod upon and tore breadths of silk; he +tried to help carry the packing-boxes, and broke the hall gas fixture; +he came in upon Trina and the dress-maker at an ill-timed moment, and +retiring precipitately, overturned the piles of pictures stacked in the +hall. + +There was an incessant going and coming at every moment of the day, +a great calling up and down stairs, a shouting from room to room, an +opening and shutting of doors, and an intermittent sound of hammering +from the laundry, where Mr. Sieppe in his shirt sleeves labored among +the packing-boxes. The twins clattered about on the carpetless floors of +the denuded rooms. Owgooste was smacked from hour to hour, and wept upon +the front stairs; the dressmaker called over the banisters for a hot +flatiron; expressmen tramped up and down the stairway. Mrs. Sieppe +stopped in the preparation of the lunches to call "Hoop, Hoop" to the +greyhound, throwing lumps of coal. The dog-wheel creaked, the front door +bell rang, delivery wagons rumbled away, windows rattled--the little +house was in a positive uproar. + +Almost every day of the week now Trina was obliged to run over to town +and meet McTeague. No more philandering over their lunch now-a-days. It +was business now. They haunted the house-furnishing floors of the great +department houses, inspecting and pricing ranges, hardware, china, +and the like. They rented the photographer's rooms furnished, and +fortunately only the kitchen and dining-room utensils had to be bought. + +The money for this as well as for her trousseau came out of Trina's +five thousand dollars. For it had been finally decided that two hundred +dollars of this amount should be devoted to the establishment of the +new household. Now that Trina had made her great winning, Mr. Sieppe +no longer saw the necessity of dowering her further, especially when he +considered the enormous expense to which he would be put by the voyage +of his own family. + +It had been a dreadful wrench for Trina to break in upon her precious +five thousand. She clung to this sum with a tenacity that +was surprising; it had become for her a thing miraculous, a +god-from-the-machine, suddenly descending upon the stage of her humble +little life; she regarded it as something almost sacred and inviolable. +Never, never should a penny of it be spent. Before she could be induced +to part with two hundred dollars of it, more than one scene had been +enacted between her and her parents. + +Did Trina pay for the golden tooth out of this two hundred? Later on, +the dentist often asked her about it, but Trina invariably laughed in +his face, declaring that it was her secret. McTeague never found out. + +One day during this period McTeague told Trina about his affair with +Marcus. Instantly she was aroused. + +"He threw his knife at you! The coward! He wouldn't of dared stand up to +you like a man. Oh, Mac, suppose he HAD hit you?" + +"Came within an inch of my head," put in McTeague, proudly. + +"Think of it!" she gasped; "and he wanted part of my money. Well, I do +like his cheek; part of my five thousand! Why, it's mine, every single +penny of it. Marcus hasn't the least bit of right to it. It's mine, +mine.--I mean, it's ours, Mac, dear." + +The elder Sieppes, however, made excuses for Marcus. He had probably +been drinking a good deal and didn't know what he was about. He had a +dreadful temper, anyhow. Maybe he only wanted to scare McTeague. + +The week before the marriage the two men were reconciled. Mrs. Sieppe +brought them together in the front parlor of the B Street house. + +"Now, you two fellers, don't be dot foolish. Schake hands und maig ut +oop, soh." + +Marcus muttered an apology. McTeague, miserably embarrassed, rolled +his eyes about the room, murmuring, "That's all right--that's all +right--that's all right." + +However, when it was proposed that Marcus should be McTeague's best man, +he flashed out again with renewed violence. Ah, no! ah, NO! He'd make up +with the dentist now that he was going away, but he'd be damned--yes, he +would--before he'd be his best man. That was rubbing it in. Let him get +Old Grannis. + +"I'm friends with um all right," vociferated Marcus, "but I'll not stand +up with um. I'll not be ANYBODY'S best man, I won't." + +The wedding was to be very quiet; Trina preferred it that way. McTeague +would invite only Miss Baker and Heise the harness-maker. The Sieppes +sent cards to Selina, who was counted on to furnish the music; to +Marcus, of course; and to Uncle Oelbermann. + +At last the great day, the first of June, arrived. The Sieppes had +packed their last box and had strapped the last trunk. Trina's +two trunks had already been sent to her new home--the remodelled +photographer's rooms. The B Street house was deserted; the whole family +came over to the city on the last day of May and stopped over night at +one of the cheap downtown hotels. Trina would be married the following +evening, and immediately after the wedding supper the Sieppes would +leave for the South. + +McTeague spent the day in a fever of agitation, frightened out of his +wits each time that Old Grannis left his elbow. + +Old Grannis was delighted beyond measure at the prospect of acting the +part of best man in the ceremony. This wedding in which he was to figure +filled his mind with vague ideas and half-formed thoughts. He found +himself continually wondering what Miss Baker would think of it. During +all that day he was in a reflective mood. + +"Marriage is a--a noble institution, is it not, Doctor?" he observed +to McTeague. "The--the foundation of society. It is not good that man +should be alone. No, no," he added, pensively, "it is not good." + +"Huh? Yes, yes," McTeague answered, his eyes in the air, hardly hearing +him. "Do you think the rooms are all right? Let's go in and look at them +again." + +They went down the hall to where the new rooms were situated, and the +dentist inspected them for the twentieth time. + +The rooms were three in number--first, the sitting-room, which was also +the dining-room; then the bedroom, and back of this the tiny kitchen. + +The sitting-room was particularly charming. Clean matting covered the +floor, and two or three bright colored rugs were scattered here and +there. The backs of the chairs were hung with knitted worsted tidies, +very gay. The bay window should have been occupied by Trina's sewing +machine, but this had been moved to the other side of the room to give +place to a little black walnut table with spiral legs, before which +the pair were to be married. In one corner stood the parlor melodeon, a +family possession of the Sieppes, but given now to Trina as one of her +parents' wedding presents. Three pictures hung upon the walls. Two were +companion pieces. One of these represented a little boy wearing huge +spectacles and trying to smoke an enormous pipe. This was called "I'm +Grandpa," the title being printed in large black letters; the companion +picture was entitled "I'm Grandma," a little girl in cap and "specs," +wearing mitts, and knitting. These pictures were hung on either side of +the mantelpiece. The other picture was quite an affair, very large and +striking. It was a colored lithograph of two little golden-haired girls +in their nightgowns. They were kneeling down and saying their prayers; +their eyes--very large and very blue--rolled upward. This picture had +for name, "Faith," and was bordered with a red plush mat and a frame of +imitation beaten brass. + +A door hung with chenille portieres--a bargain at two dollars and a +half--admitted one to the bedroom. The bedroom could boast a carpet, +three-ply ingrain, the design being bunches of red and green flowers in +yellow baskets on a white ground. The wall-paper was admirable--hundreds +and hundreds of tiny Japanese mandarins, all identically alike, helping +hundreds of almond-eyed ladies into hundreds of impossible junks, +while hundreds of bamboo palms overshadowed the pair, and hundreds of +long-legged storks trailed contemptuously away from the scene. This room +was prolific in pictures. Most of them were framed colored prints from +Christmas editions of the London "Graphic" and "Illustrated News," the +subject of each picture inevitably involving very alert fox terriers and +very pretty moon-faced little girls. + +Back of the bedroom was the kitchen, a creation of Trina's, a dream of +a kitchen, with its range, its porcelain-lined sink, its copper boiler, +and its overpowering array of flashing tinware. Everything was new; +everything was complete. + +Maria Macapa and a waiter from one of the restaurants in the street +were to prepare the wedding supper here. Maria had already put in an +appearance. The fire was crackling in the new stove, that smoked badly; +a smell of cooking was in the air. She drove McTeague and Old Grannis +from the room with great gestures of her bare arms. + +This kitchen was the only one of the three rooms they had been obliged +to furnish throughout. Most of the sitting-room and bedroom furniture +went with the suite; a few pieces they had bought; the remainder Trina +had brought over from the B Street house. + +The presents had been set out on the extension table in the +sitting-room. Besides the parlor melodeon, Trina's parents had given her +an ice-water set, and a carving knife and fork with elk-horn handles. +Selina had painted a view of the Golden Gate upon a polished slice +of redwood that answered the purposes of a paper weight. Marcus +Schouler--after impressing upon Trina that his gift was to HER, and +not to McTeague--had sent a chatelaine watch of German silver; Uncle +Oelbermann's present, however, had been awaited with a good deal of +curiosity. What would he send? He was very rich; in a sense Trina was +his protege. A couple of days before that upon which the wedding was +to take place, two boxes arrived with his card. Trina and McTeague, +assisted by Old Grannis, had opened them. The first was a box of all +sorts of toys. + +"But what--what--I don't make it out," McTeague had exclaimed. "Why +should he send us toys? We have no need of toys." Scarlet to her +hair, Trina dropped into a chair and laughed till she cried behind her +handkerchief. + +"We've no use of toys," muttered McTeague, looking at her in perplexity. +Old Grannis smiled discreetly, raising a tremulous hand to his chin. + +The other box was heavy, bound with withes at the edges, the letters and +stamps burnt in. + +"I think--I really think it's champagne," said Old Grannis in a whisper. +So it was. A full case of Monopole. What a wonder! None of them had seen +the like before. Ah, this Uncle Oelbermann! That's what it was to be +rich. Not one of the other presents produced so deep an impression as +this. + +After Old Grannis and the dentist had gone through the rooms, giving +a last look around to see that everything was ready, they returned to +McTeague's "Parlors." At the door Old Grannis excused himself. + +At four o'clock McTeague began to dress, shaving himself first before +the hand-glass that was hung against the woodwork of the bay window. +While he shaved he sang with strange inappropriateness: + + "No one to love, none to Caress, + Left all alone in this world's wilderness." + +But as he stood before the mirror, intent upon his shaving, there came a +roll of wheels over the cobbles in front of the house. He rushed to the +window. Trina had arrived with her father and mother. He saw her get +out, and as she glanced upward at his window, their eyes met. + +Ah, there she was. There she was, his little woman, looking up at him, +her adorable little chin thrust upward with that familiar movement of +innocence and confidence. The dentist saw again, as if for the first +time, her small, pale face looking out from beneath her royal tiara of +black hair; he saw again her long, narrow blue eyes; her lips, nose, and +tiny ears, pale and bloodless, and suggestive of anaemia, as if all the +vitality that should have lent them color had been sucked up into the +strands and coils of that wonderful hair. + +As their eyes met they waved their hands gayly to each other; then +McTeague heard Trina and her mother come up the stairs and go into the +bedroom of the photographer's suite, where Trina was to dress. + +No, no; surely there could be no longer any hesitation. He knew that he +loved her. What was the matter with him, that he should have doubted +it for an instant? The great difficulty was that she was too good, too +adorable, too sweet, too delicate for him, who was so huge, so clumsy, +so brutal. + +There was a knock at the door. It was Old Grannis. He was dressed in +his one black suit of broadcloth, much wrinkled; his hair was carefully +brushed over his bald forehead. + +"Miss Trina has come," he announced, "and the minister. You have an hour +yet." + +The dentist finished dressing. He wore a suit bought for the occasion--a +ready made "Prince Albert" coat too short in the sleeves, striped +"blue" trousers, and new patent leather shoes--veritable instruments of +torture. Around his collar was a wonderful necktie that Trina had given +him; it was of salmon-pink satin; in its centre Selina had painted a +knot of blue forget-me-nots. + +At length, after an interminable period of waiting, Mr. Sieppe appeared +at the door. + +"Are you reatty?" he asked in a sepulchral whisper. "Gome, den." It was +like King Charles summoned to execution. Mr. Sieppe preceded them +into the hall, moving at a funereal pace. He paused. Suddenly, in the +direction of the sitting-room, came the strains of the parlor melodeon. +Mr. Sieppe flung his arm in the air. + +"Vowaarts!" he cried. + +He left them at the door of the sitting-room, he himself going into the +bedroom where Trina was waiting, entering by the hall door. He was in +a tremendous state of nervous tension, fearful lest something should go +wrong. He had employed the period of waiting in going through his part +for the fiftieth time, repeating what he had to say in a low voice. He +had even made chalk marks on the matting in the places where he was to +take positions. + +The dentist and Old Grannis entered the sitting-room; the minister stood +behind the little table in the bay window, holding a book, one finger +marking the place; he was rigid, erect, impassive. On either side of +him, in a semi-circle, stood the invited guests. A little pock-marked +gentleman in glasses, no doubt the famous Uncle Oelbermann; Miss Baker, +in her black grenadine, false curls, and coral brooch; Marcus +Schouler, his arms folded, his brows bent, grand and gloomy; Heise the +harness-maker, in yellow gloves, intently studying the pattern of the +matting; and Owgooste, in his Fauntleroy "costume," stupefied and a +little frightened, rolling his eyes from face to face. Selina sat at +the parlor melodeon, fingering the keys, her glance wandering to the +chenille portieres. She stopped playing as McTeague and Old Grannis +entered and took their places. A profound silence ensued. Uncle +Oelbermann's shirt front could be heard creaking as he breathed. The +most solemn expression pervaded every face. + +All at once the portieres were shaken violently. It was a signal. Selina +pulled open the stops and swung into the wedding march. + +Trina entered. She was dressed in white silk, a crown of orange blossoms +was around her swarthy hair--dressed high for the first time--her veil +reached to the floor. Her face was pink, but otherwise she was calm. +She looked quietly around the room as she crossed it, until her glance +rested on McTeague, smiling at him then very prettily and with perfect +self-possession. + +She was on her father's arm. The twins, dressed exactly alike, walked +in front, each carrying an enormous bouquet of cut flowers in a +"lace-paper" holder. Mrs. Sieppe followed in the rear. She was crying; +her handkerchief was rolled into a wad. From time to time she looked +at the train of Trina's dress through her tears. Mr. Sieppe marched his +daughter to the exact middle of the floor, wheeled at right angles, and +brought her up to the minister. He stepped back three paces, and +stood planted upon one of his chalk marks, his face glistening with +perspiration. + +Then Trina and the dentist were married. The guests stood in constrained +attitudes, looking furtively out of the corners of their eyes. Mr. +Sieppe never moved a muscle; Mrs. Sieppe cried into her handkerchief +all the time. At the melodeon Selina played "Call Me Thine Own," very +softly, the tremulo stop pulled out. She looked over her shoulder from +time to time. Between the pauses of the music one could hear the low +tones of the minister, the responses of the participants, and the +suppressed sounds of Mrs. Sieppe's weeping. Outside the noises of the +street rose to the windows in muffled undertones, a cable car rumbled +past, a newsboy went by chanting the evening papers; from somewhere in +the building itself came a persistent noise of sawing. + +Trina and McTeague knelt. The dentist's knees thudded on the floor and +he presented to view the soles of his shoes, painfully new and unworn, +the leather still yellow, the brass nail heads still glittering. Trina +sank at his side very gracefully, setting her dress and train with a +little gesture of her free hand. The company bowed their heads, Mr. +Sieppe shutting his eyes tight. But Mrs. Sieppe took advantage of +the moment to stop crying and make furtive gestures towards Owgooste, +signing him to pull down his coat. But Owgooste gave no heed; his eyes +were starting from their sockets, his chin had dropped upon his lace +collar, and his head turned vaguely from side to side with a continued +and maniacal motion. + +All at once the ceremony was over before any one expected it. The guests +kept their positions for a moment, eyeing one another, each fearing to +make the first move, not quite certain as to whether or not everything +were finished. But the couple faced the room, Trina throwing back her +veil. She--perhaps McTeague as well--felt that there was a certain +inadequateness about the ceremony. Was that all there was to it? Did +just those few muttered phrases make them man and wife? It had been over +in a few moments, but it had bound them for life. Had not something +been left out? Was not the whole affair cursory, superficial? It was +disappointing. + +But Trina had no time to dwell upon this. Marcus Schouler, in the manner +of a man of the world, who knew how to act in every situation, stepped +forward and, even before Mr. or Mrs. Sieppe, took Trina's hand. + +"Let me be the first to congratulate Mrs. McTeague," he said, feeling +very noble and heroic. The strain of the previous moments was relaxed +immediately, the guests crowded around the pair, shaking hands--a babel +of talk arose. + +"Owgooste, WILL you pull down your goat, den?" + +"Well, my dear, now you're married and happy. When I first saw you two +together, I said, 'What a pair!' We're to be neighbors now; you must +come up and see me very often and we'll have tea together." + +"Did you hear that sawing going on all the time? I declare it regularly +got on my nerves." + +Trina kissed her father and mother, crying a little herself as she saw +the tears in Mrs. Sieppe's eyes. + +Marcus came forward a second time, and, with an air of great gravity, +kissed his cousin upon the forehead. Heise was introduced to Trina and +Uncle Oelbermann to the dentist. + +For upwards of half an hour the guests stood about in groups, filling +the little sitting-room with a great chatter of talk. Then it was time +to make ready for supper. + +This was a tremendous task, in which nearly all the guests were obliged +to assist. The sitting-room was transformed into a dining-room. The +presents were removed from the extension table and the table drawn out +to its full length. The cloth was laid, the chairs--rented from the +dancing academy hard by--drawn up, the dishes set out, and the two +bouquets of cut flowers taken from the twins under their shrill +protests, and "arranged" in vases at either end of the table. + +There was a great coming and going between the kitchen and the +sitting-room. Trina, who was allowed to do nothing, sat in the bay +window and fretted, calling to her mother from time to time: + +"The napkins are in the right-hand drawer of the pantry." + +"Yes, yes, I got um. Where do you geep der zoup blates?" + +"The soup plates are here already." + +"Say, Cousin Trina, is there a corkscrew? What is home without a +corkscrew?" + +"In the kitchen-table drawer, in the left-hand corner." + +"Are these the forks you want to use, Mrs. McTeague?" + +"No, no, there's some silver forks. Mamma knows where." + +They were all very gay, laughing over their mistakes, getting in one +another's way, rushing into the sitting-room, their hands full of plates +or knives or glasses, and darting out again after more. Marcus and Mr. +Sieppe took their coats off. Old Grannis and Miss Baker passed each +other in the hall in a constrained silence, her grenadine brushing +against the elbow of his wrinkled frock coat. Uncle Oelbermann +superintended Heise opening the case of champagne with the gravity of a +magistrate. Owgooste was assigned the task of filling the new salt and +pepper canisters of red and blue glass. + +In a wonderfully short time everything was ready. Marcus Schouler +resumed his coat, wiping his forehead, and remarking: + +"I tell you, I've been doing CHORES for MY board." + +"To der table!" commanded Mr. Sieppe. + +The company sat down with a great clatter, Trina at the foot, the +dentist at the head, the others arranged themselves in haphazard +fashion. But it happened that Marcus Schouler crowded into the seat +beside Selina, towards which Old Grannis was directing himself. There +was but one other chair vacant, and that at the side of Miss Baker. Old +Grannis hesitated, putting his hand to his chin. However, there was no +escape. In great trepidation he sat down beside the retired dressmaker. +Neither of them spoke. Old Grannis dared not move, but sat rigid, his +eyes riveted on his empty soup plate. + +All at once there was a report like a pistol. The men started in their +places. Mrs. Sieppe uttered a muffled shriek. The waiter from the cheap +restaurant, hired as Maria's assistant, rose from a bending posture, a +champagne bottle frothing in his hand; he was grinning from ear to ear. + +"Don't get scairt," he said, reassuringly, "it ain't loaded." + +When all their glasses had been filled, Marcus proposed the health of +the bride, "standing up." The guests rose and drank. Hardly one of them +had ever tasted champagne before. The moment's silence after the toast +was broken by McTeague exclaiming with a long breath of satisfaction: +"That's the best beer I ever drank." + +There was a roar of laughter. Especially was Marcus tickled over the +dentist's blunder; he went off in a very spasm of mirth, banging the +table with his fist, laughing until his eyes watered. All through the +meal he kept breaking out into cackling imitations of McTeague's words: +"That's the best BEER I ever drank. Oh, Lord, ain't that a break!" + +What a wonderful supper that was! There was oyster soup; there were +sea bass and barracuda; there was a gigantic roast goose stuffed with +chestnuts; there were egg-plant and sweet potatoes--Miss Baker called +them "yams." There was calf's head in oil, over which Mr. Sieppe went +into ecstasies; there was lobster salad; there were rice pudding, and +strawberry ice cream, and wine jelly, and stewed prunes, and cocoanuts, +and mixed nuts, and raisins, and fruit, and tea, and coffee, and mineral +waters, and lemonade. + +For two hours the guests ate; their faces red, their elbows wide, the +perspiration beading their foreheads. All around the table one saw the +same incessant movement of jaws and heard the same uninterrupted sound +of chewing. Three times Heise passed his plate for more roast goose. +Mr. Sieppe devoured the calf's head with long breaths of contentment; +McTeague ate for the sake of eating, without choice; everything within +reach of his hands found its way into his enormous mouth. + +There was but little conversation, and that only of the food; one +exchanged opinions with one's neighbor as to the soup, the egg-plant, +or the stewed prunes. Soon the room became very warm, a faint moisture +appeared upon the windows, the air was heavy with the smell of cooked +food. At every moment Trina or Mrs. Sieppe urged some one of the company +to have his or her plate refilled. They were constantly employed in +dishing potatoes or carving the goose or ladling gravy. The hired waiter +circled around the room, his limp napkin over his arm, his hands full +of plates and dishes. He was a great joker; he had names of his own +for different articles of food, that sent gales of laughter around the +table. When he spoke of a bunch of parsley as "scenery," Heise all but +strangled himself over a mouthful of potato. Out in the kitchen Maria +Macapa did the work of three, her face scarlet, her sleeves rolled +up; every now and then she uttered shrill but unintelligible outcries, +supposedly addressed to the waiter. + +"Uncle Oelbermann," said Trina, "let me give you another helping of +prunes." + +The Sieppes paid great deference to Uncle Oelbermann, as indeed did the +whole company. Even Marcus Schouler lowered his voice when he addressed +him. At the beginning of the meal he had nudged the harness-maker and +had whispered behind his hand, nodding his head toward the wholesale toy +dealer, "Got thirty thousand dollars in the bank; has, for a fact." + +"Don't have much to say," observed Heise. + +"No, no. That's his way; never opens his face." + +As the evening wore on, the gas and two lamps were lit. The company were +still eating. The men, gorged with food, had unbuttoned their vests. +McTeague's cheeks were distended, his eyes wide, his huge, salient jaw +moved with a machine-like regularity; at intervals he drew a series of +short breaths through his nose. Mrs. Sieppe wiped her forehead with her +napkin. + +"Hey, dere, poy, gif me some more oaf dat--what you +call--'bubble-water.'" + +That was how the waiter had spoken of the champagne--"bubble-water." +The guests had shouted applause, "Outa sight." He was a heavy josher was +that waiter. + +Bottle after bottle was opened, the women stopping their ears as the +corks were drawn. All of a sudden the dentist uttered an exclamation, +clapping his hand to his nose, his face twisting sharply. + +"Mac, what is it?" cried Trina in alarm. + +"That champagne came to my nose," he cried, his eyes watering. "It +stings like everything." + +"Great BEER, ain't ut?" shouted Marcus. + +"Now, Mark," remonstrated Trina in a low voice. "Now, Mark, you just +shut up; that isn't funny any more. I don't want you should make fun of +Mac. He called it beer on purpose. I guess HE knows." + +Throughout the meal old Miss Baker had occupied herself largely with +Owgooste and the twins, who had been given a table by themselves--the +black walnut table before which the ceremony had taken place. The little +dressmaker was continually turning about in her place, inquiring of the +children if they wanted for anything; inquiries they rarely answered +other than by stare, fixed, ox-like, expressionless. + +Suddenly the little dressmaker turned to Old Grannis and exclaimed: + +"I'm so very fond of little children." + +"Yes, yes, they're very interesting. I'm very fond of them, too." + +The next instant both of the old people were overwhelmed with confusion. +What! They had spoken to each other after all these years of silence; +they had for the first time addressed remarks to each other. + +The old dressmaker was in a torment of embarrassment. How was it she had +come to speak? She had neither planned nor wished it. Suddenly the words +had escaped her, he had answered, and it was all over--over before they +knew it. + +Old Grannis's fingers trembled on the table ledge, his heart beat +heavily, his breath fell short. He had actually talked to the little +dressmaker. That possibility to which he had looked forward, it +seemed to him for years--that companionship, that intimacy with his +fellow-lodger, that delightful acquaintance which was only to ripen at +some far distant time, he could not exactly say when--behold, it had +suddenly come to a head, here in this over-crowded, over-heated room, +in the midst of all this feeding, surrounded by odors of hot dishes, +accompanied by the sounds of incessant mastication. How different he had +imagined it would be! They were to be alone--he and Miss Baker--in the +evening somewhere, withdrawn from the world, very quiet, very calm and +peaceful. Their talk was to be of their lives, their lost illusions, not +of other people's children. + +The two old people did not speak again. They sat there side by side, +nearer than they had ever been before, motionless, abstracted; their +thoughts far away from that scene of feasting. They were thinking of +each other and they were conscious of it. Timid, with the timidity of +their second childhood, constrained and embarrassed by each other's +presence, they were, nevertheless, in a little Elysium of their own +creating. They walked hand in hand in a delicious garden where it was +always autumn; together and alone they entered upon the long retarded +romance of their commonplace and uneventful lives. + +At last that great supper was over, everything had been eaten; the +enormous roast goose had dwindled to a very skeleton. Mr. Sieppe had +reduced the calf's head to a mere skull; a row of empty champagne +bottles--"dead soldiers," as the facetious waiter had called them--lined +the mantelpiece. Nothing of the stewed prunes remained but the juice, +which was given to Owgooste and the twins. The platters were as clean as +if they had been washed; crumbs of bread, potato parings, nutshells, and +bits of cake littered the table; coffee and ice-cream stains and +spots of congealed gravy marked the position of each plate. It was +a devastation, a pillage; the table presented the appearance of an +abandoned battlefield. + +"Ouf," cried Mrs. Sieppe, pushing back, "I haf eatun und eatun, ach, +Gott, how I haf eatun!" + +"Ah, dot kaf's het," murmured her husband, passing his tongue over his +lips. + +The facetious waiter had disappeared. He and Maria Macapa foregathered +in the kitchen. They drew up to the washboard of the sink, feasting off +the remnants of the supper, slices of goose, the remains of the lobster +salad, and half a bottle of champagne. They were obliged to drink the +latter from teacups. + +"Here's how," said the waiter gallantly, as he raised his tea-cup, +bowing to Maria across the sink. "Hark," he added, "they're singing +inside." + +The company had left the table and had assembled about the melodeon, +where Selina was seated. At first they attempted some of the popular +songs of the day, but were obliged to give over as none of them knew any +of the words beyond the first line of the chorus. Finally they pitched +upon "Nearer, My God, to Thee," as the only song which they all knew. +Selina sang the "alto," very much off the key; Marcus intoned the bass, +scowling fiercely, his chin drawn into his collar. They sang in very +slow time. The song became a dirge, a lamentable, prolonged wail of +distress: + + "Nee-rah, my Gahd, to Thee, + Nee-rah to Thee-ah." + +At the end of the song, Uncle Oelbermann put on his hat without a word +of warning. Instantly there was a hush. The guests rose. + +"Not going so soon, Uncle Oelbermann?" protested Trina, politely. He +only nodded. Marcus sprang forward to help him with his overcoat. Mr. +Sieppe came up and the two men shook hands. + +Then Uncle Oelbermann delivered himself of an oracular phrase. No doubt +he had been meditating it during the supper. Addressing Mr. Sieppe, he +said: + +"You have not lost a daughter, but have gained a son." + +These were the only words he had spoken the entire evening. He departed; +the company was profoundly impressed. + +About twenty minutes later, when Marcus Schouler was entertaining the +guests by eating almonds, shells and all, Mr. Sieppe started to his +feet, watch in hand. + +"Haf-bast elevun," he shouted. "Attention! Der dime haf arrive, shtop +eferyting. We depart." + +This was a signal for tremendous confusion. Mr. Sieppe immediately threw +off his previous air of relaxation, the calf's head was forgotten, he +was once again the leader of vast enterprises. + +"To me, to me," he cried. "Mommer, der tervins, Owgooste." He marshalled +his tribe together, with tremendous commanding gestures. The sleeping +twins were suddenly shaken into a dazed consciousness; Owgooste, whom +the almond-eating of Marcus Schouler had petrified with admiration, was +smacked to a realization of his surroundings. + +Old Grannis, with a certain delicacy that was one of his +characteristics, felt instinctively that the guests--the mere +outsiders--should depart before the family began its leave-taking of +Trina. He withdrew unobtrusively, after a hasty good-night to the bride +and groom. The rest followed almost immediately. + +"Well, Mr. Sieppe," exclaimed Marcus, "we won't see each other for some +time." Marcus had given up his first intention of joining in the Sieppe +migration. He spoke in a large way of certain affairs that would keep +him in San Francisco till the fall. Of late he had entertained ambitions +of a ranch life, he would breed cattle, he had a little money and was +only looking for some one "to go in with." He dreamed of a cowboy's +life and saw himself in an entrancing vision involving silver spurs and +untamed bronchos. He told himself that Trina had cast him off, that his +best friend had "played him for a sucker," that the "proper caper" was +to withdraw from the world entirely. + +"If you hear of anybody down there," he went on, speaking to Mr. Sieppe, +"that wants to go in for ranching, why just let me know." + +"Soh, soh," answered Mr. Sieppe abstractedly, peering about for +Owgooste's cap. + +Marcus bade the Sieppes farewell. He and Heise went out together. One +heard them, as they descended the stairs, discussing the possibility of +Frenna's place being still open. + +Then Miss Baker departed after kissing Trina on both cheeks. Selina went +with her. There was only the family left. + +Trina watched them go, one by one, with an increasing feeling of +uneasiness and vague apprehension. Soon they would all be gone. + +"Well, Trina," exclaimed Mr. Sieppe, "goot-py; perhaps you gome visit us +somedime." + +Mrs. Sieppe began crying again. + +"Ach, Trina, ven shall I efer see you again?" + +Tears came to Trina's eyes in spite of herself. She put her arms around +her mother. + +"Oh, sometime, sometime," she cried. The twins and Owgooste clung to +Trina's skirts, fretting and whimpering. + +McTeague was miserable. He stood apart from the group, in a corner. None +of them seemed to think of him; he was not of them. + +"Write to me very often, mamma, and tell me about everything--about +August and the twins." + +"It is dime," cried Mr. Sieppe, nervously. "Goot-py, Trina. Mommer, +Owgooste, say goot-py, den we must go. Goot-py, Trina." He kissed +her. Owgooste and the twins were lifted up. "Gome, gome," insisted Mr. +Sieppe, moving toward the door. + +"Goot-py, Trina," exclaimed Mrs. Sieppe, crying harder than ever. +"Doktor--where is der doktor--Doktor, pe goot to her, eh? pe vairy goot, +eh, won't you? Zum day, Dokter, you vill haf a daughter, den you know +berhaps how I feel, yes." + +They were standing at the door by this time. Mr. Sieppe, half way down +the stairs, kept calling "Gome, gome, we miss der drain." + +Mrs. Sieppe released Trina and started down the hall, the twins and +Owgooste following. Trina stood in the doorway, looking after them +through her tears. They were going, going. When would she ever see them +again? She was to be left alone with this man to whom she had just been +married. A sudden vague terror seized her; she left McTeague and ran +down the hall and caught her mother around the neck. + +"I don't WANT you to go," she whispered in her mother's ear, sobbing. +"Oh, mamma, I--I'm 'fraid." + +"Ach, Trina, you preak my heart. Don't gry, poor leetle girl." She +rocked Trina in her arms as though she were a child again. "Poor leetle +scairt girl, don' gry--soh--soh--soh, dere's nuttun to pe 'fraid oaf. +Dere, go to your hoasban'. Listen, popper's galling again; go den; +goot-by." + +She loosened Trina's arms and started down the stairs. Trina leaned over +the banisters, straining her eyes after her mother. + +"What is ut, Trina?" + +"Oh, good-by, good-by." + +"Gome, gome, we miss der drain." + +"Mamma, oh, mamma!" + +"What is ut, Trina?" + +"Good-by." + +"Goot-py, leetle daughter." + +"Good-by, good-by, good-by." + +The street door closed. The silence was profound. + +For another moment Trina stood leaning over the banisters, looking +down into the empty stairway. It was dark. There was nobody. They--her +father, her mother, the children--had left her, left her alone. She +faced about toward the rooms--faced her husband, faced her new home, the +new life that was to begin now. + +The hall was empty and deserted. The great flat around her seemed new +and huge and strange; she felt horribly alone. Even Maria and the hired +waiter were gone. On one of the floors above she heard a baby crying. +She stood there an instant in the dark hall, in her wedding finery, +looking about her, listening. From the open door of the sitting-room +streamed a gold bar of light. + +She went down the hall, by the open door of the sitting-room, going on +toward the hall door of the bedroom. + +As she softly passed the sitting-room she glanced hastily in. The lamps +and the gas were burning brightly, the chairs were pushed back from the +table just as the guests had left them, and the table itself, abandoned, +deserted, presented to view the vague confusion of its dishes, its +knives and forks, its empty platters and crumpled napkins. The dentist +sat there leaning on his elbows, his back toward her; against the white +blur of the table he looked colossal. Above his giant shoulders rose his +thick, red neck and mane of yellow hair. The light shone pink through +the gristle of his enormous ears. + +Trina entered the bedroom, closing the door after her. At the sound, she +heard McTeague start and rise. + +"Is that you, Trina?" + +She did not answer; but paused in the middle of the room, holding her +breath, trembling. + +The dentist crossed the outside room, parted the chenille portieres, +and came in. He came toward her quickly, making as if to take her in his +arms. His eyes were alight. + +"No, no," cried Trina, shrinking from him. Suddenly seized with the fear +of him--the intuitive feminine fear of the male--her whole being +quailed before him. She was terrified at his huge, square-cut head; his +powerful, salient jaw; his huge, red hands; his enormous, resistless +strength. + +"No, no--I'm afraid," she cried, drawing back from him to the other side +of the room. + +"Afraid?" answered the dentist in perplexity. "What are you afraid of, +Trina? I'm not going to hurt you. What are you afraid of?" + +What, indeed, was Trina afraid of? She could not tell. But what did she +know of McTeague, after all? Who was this man that had come into her +life, who had taken her from her home and from her parents, and with +whom she was now left alone here in this strange, vast flat? + +"Oh, I'm afraid. I'm afraid," she cried. + +McTeague came nearer, sat down beside her and put one arm around her. + +"What are you afraid of, Trina?" he said, reassuringly. "I don't want to +frighten you." + +She looked at him wildly, her adorable little chin quivering, the tears +brimming in her narrow blue eyes. Then her glance took on a certain +intentness, and she peered curiously into his face, saying almost in a +whisper: + +"I'm afraid of YOU." + +But the dentist did not heed her. An immense joy seized upon him--the +joy of possession. Trina was his very own now. She lay there in the +hollow of his arm, helpless and very pretty. + +Those instincts that in him were so close to the surface suddenly leaped +to life, shouting and clamoring, not to be resisted. He loved her. Ah, +did he not love her? The smell of her hair, of her neck, rose to him. + +Suddenly he caught her in both his huge arms, crushing down her struggle +with his immense strength, kissing her full upon the mouth. Then her +great love for McTeague suddenly flashed up in Trina's breast; she gave +up to him as she had done before, yielding all at once to that strange +desire of being conquered and subdued. She clung to him, her hands +clasped behind his neck, whispering in his ear: + +"Oh, you must be good to me--very, very good to me, dear--for you're all +that I have in the world now." + + + +CHAPTER 10 + + +That summer passed, then the winter. The wet season began in the last +days of September and continued all through October, November, and +December. At long intervals would come a week of perfect days, the +sky without a cloud, the air motionless, but touched with a certain +nimbleness, a faint effervescence that was exhilarating. Then, without +warning, during a night when a south wind blew, a gray scroll of cloud +would unroll and hang high over the city, and the rain would come +pattering down again, at first in scattered showers, then in an +uninterrupted drizzle. + +All day long Trina sat in the bay window of the sitting-room that +commanded a view of a small section of Polk Street. As often as she +raised her head she could see the big market, a confectionery store, +a bell-hanger's shop, and, farther on, above the roofs, the glass +skylights and water tanks of the big public baths. In the nearer +foreground ran the street itself; the cable cars trundled up and down, +thumping heavily over the joints of the rails; market carts by the score +came and went, driven at a great rate by preoccupied young men in their +shirt sleeves, with pencils behind their ears, or by reckless boys in +blood-stained butcher's aprons. Upon the sidewalks the little world of +Polk Street swarmed and jostled through its daily round of life. On +fine days the great ladies from the avenue, one block above, invaded +the street, appearing before the butcher stalls, intent upon their day's +marketing. On rainy days their servants--the Chinese cooks or the second +girls--took their places. These servants gave themselves great airs, +carrying their big cotton umbrellas as they had seen their mistresses +carry their parasols, and haggling in supercilious fashion with the +market men, their chins in the air. + +The rain persisted. Everything in the range of Trina's vision, from the +tarpaulins on the market-cart horses to the panes of glass in the roof +of the public baths, looked glazed and varnished. The asphalt of the +sidewalks shone like the surface of a patent leather boot; every hollow +in the street held its little puddle, that winked like an eye each time +a drop of rain struck into it. + +Trina still continued to work for Uncle Oelbermann. In the mornings she +busied herself about the kitchen, the bedroom, and the sitting-room; but +in the afternoon, for two or three hours after lunch, she was occupied +with the Noah's ark animals. She took her work to the bay window, +spreading out a great square of canvas underneath her chair, to catch +the chips and shavings, which she used afterwards for lighting fires. +One after another she caught up the little blocks of straight-grained +pine, the knife flashed between her fingers, the little figure grew +rapidly under her touch, was finished and ready for painting in a +wonderfully short time, and was tossed into the basket that stood at her +elbow. + +But very often during that rainy winter after her marriage Trina would +pause in her work, her hands falling idly into her lap, her eyes--her +narrow, pale blue eyes--growing wide and thoughtful as she gazed, +unseeing, out into the rain-washed street. + +She loved McTeague now with a blind, unreasoning love that admitted of +no doubt or hesitancy. Indeed, it seemed to her that it was only AFTER +her marriage with the dentist that she had really begun to love him. +With the absolute final surrender of herself, the irrevocable, ultimate +submission, had come an affection the like of which she had never +dreamed in the old B Street days. But Trina loved her husband, not +because she fancied she saw in him any of those noble and generous +qualities that inspire affection. The dentist might or might not possess +them, it was all one with Trina. She loved him because she had given +herself to him freely, unreservedly; had merged her individuality into +his; she was his, she belonged to him forever and forever. Nothing that +he could do (so she told herself), nothing that she herself could do, +could change her in this respect. McTeague might cease to love her, +might leave her, might even die; it would be all the same, SHE WAS HIS. + +But it had not been so at first. During those long, rainy days of the +fall, days when Trina was left alone for hours, at that time when the +excitement and novelty of the honeymoon were dying down, when the new +household was settling into its grooves, she passed through many an hour +of misgiving, of doubt, and even of actual regret. + +Never would she forget one Sunday afternoon in particular. She had been +married but three weeks. After dinner she and little Miss Baker had gone +for a bit of a walk to take advantage of an hour's sunshine and to look +at some wonderful geraniums in a florist's window on Sutter Street. They +had been caught in a shower, and on returning to the flat the little +dressmaker had insisted on fetching Trina up to her tiny room and +brewing her a cup of strong tea, "to take the chill off." The two women +had chatted over their teacups the better part of the afternoon, then +Trina had returned to her rooms. For nearly three hours McTeague had +been out of her thoughts, and as she came through their little +suite, singing softly to herself, she suddenly came upon him quite +unexpectedly. Her husband was in the "Dental Parlors," lying back in his +operating chair, fast asleep. The little stove was crammed with coke, +the room was overheated, the air thick and foul with the odors of ether, +of coke gas, of stale beer and cheap tobacco. The dentist sprawled his +gigantic limbs over the worn velvet of the operating chair; his coat and +vest and shoes were off, and his huge feet, in their thick gray socks, +dangled over the edge of the foot-rest; his pipe, fallen from his +half-open mouth, had spilled the ashes into his lap; while on the floor, +at his side stood the half-empty pitcher of steam beer. His head had +rolled limply upon one shoulder, his face was red with sleep, and from +his open mouth came a terrific sound of snoring. + +For a moment Trina stood looking at him as he lay thus, prone, inert, +half-dressed, and stupefied with the heat of the room, the steam beer, +and the fumes of the cheap tobacco. Then her little chin quivered and a +sob rose to her throat; she fled from the "Parlors," and locking herself +in her bedroom, flung herself on the bed and burst into an agony of +weeping. Ah, no, ah, no, she could not love him. It had all been a +dreadful mistake, and now it was irrevocable; she was bound to this +man for life. If it was as bad as this now, only three weeks after her +marriage, how would it be in the years to come? Year after year, month +after month, hour after hour, she was to see this same face, with its +salient jaw, was to feel the touch of those enormous red hands, was +to hear the heavy, elephantine tread of those huge feet--in thick gray +socks. Year after year, day after day, there would be no change, and +it would last all her life. Either it would be one long continued +revulsion, or else--worse than all--she would come to be content with +him, would come to be like him, would sink to the level of steam beer +and cheap tobacco, and all her pretty ways, her clean, trim little +habits, would be forgotten, since they would be thrown away upon +her stupid, brutish husband. "Her husband!" THAT, was her husband +in there--she could yet hear his snores--for life, for life. A great +despair seized upon her. She buried her face in the pillow and thought +of her mother with an infinite longing. + +Aroused at length by the chittering of the canary, McTeague had awakened +slowly. After a while he had taken down his concertina and played upon +it the six very mournful airs that he knew. + +Face downward upon the bed, Trina still wept. Throughout that little +suite could be heard but two sounds, the lugubrious strains of the +concertina and the noise of stifled weeping. + +That her husband should be ignorant of her distress seemed to Trina an +additional grievance. With perverse inconsistency she began to wish +him to come to her, to comfort her. He ought to know that she was in +trouble, that she was lonely and unhappy. + +"Oh, Mac," she called in a trembling voice. But the concertina still +continued to wail and lament. Then Trina wished she were dead, and +on the instant jumped up and ran into the "Dental Parlors," and threw +herself into her husband's arms, crying: "Oh, Mac, dear, love me, love +me big! I'm so unhappy." + +"What--what--what--" the dentist exclaimed, starting up bewildered, a +little frightened. + +"Nothing, nothing, only LOVE me, love me always and always." + +But this first crisis, this momentary revolt, as much a matter of +high-strung feminine nerves as of anything else, passed, and in the end +Trina's affection for her "old bear" grew in spite of herself. She began +to love him more and more, not for what he was, but for what she had +given up to him. Only once again did Trina undergo a reaction against +her husband, and then it was but the matter of an instant, brought +on, curiously enough, by the sight of a bit of egg on McTeague's heavy +mustache one morning just after breakfast. + +Then, too, the pair had learned to make concessions, little by little, +and all unconsciously they adapted their modes of life to suit each +other. Instead of sinking to McTeague's level as she had feared, Trina +found that she could make McTeague rise to hers, and in this saw a +solution of many a difficult and gloomy complication. + +For one thing, the dentist began to dress a little better, Trina even +succeeding in inducing him to wear a high silk hat and a frock coat of +a Sunday. Next he relinquished his Sunday afternoon's nap and beer in +favor of three or four hours spent in the park with her--the weather +permitting. So that gradually Trina's misgivings ceased, or when +they did assail her, she could at last meet them with a shrug of the +shoulders, saying to herself meanwhile, "Well, it's done now and it +can't be helped; one must make the best of it." + +During the first months of their married life these nervous relapses of +hers had alternated with brusque outbursts of affection when her only +fear was that her husband's love did not equal her own. Without an +instant's warning, she would clasp him about the neck, rubbing her cheek +against his, murmuring: + +"Dear old Mac, I love you so, I love you so. Oh, aren't we happy +together, Mac, just us two and no one else? You love me as much as I +love you, don't you, Mac? Oh, if you shouldn't--if you SHOULDN'T." + +But by the middle of the winter Trina's emotions, oscillating at first +from one extreme to another, commenced to settle themselves to an +equilibrium of calmness and placid quietude. Her household duties +began more and more to absorb her attention, for she was an admirable +housekeeper, keeping the little suite in marvellous good order and +regulating the schedule of expenditure with an economy that often +bordered on positive niggardliness. It was a passion with her to save +money. In the bottom of her trunk, in the bedroom, she hid a brass +match-safe that answered the purposes of a savings bank. Each time she +added a quarter or a half dollar to the little store she laughed and +sang with a veritable childish delight; whereas, if the butcher or +milkman compelled her to pay an overcharge she was unhappy for the rest +of the day. She did not save this money for any ulterior purpose, she +hoarded instinctively, without knowing why, responding to the dentist's +remonstrances with: + +"Yes, yes, I know I'm a little miser, I know it." + +Trina had always been an economical little body, but it was only +since her great winning in the lottery that she had become especially +penurious. No doubt, in her fear lest their great good luck should +demoralize them and lead to habits of extravagance, she had recoiled too +far in the other direction. Never, never, never should a penny of that +miraculous fortune be spent; rather should it be added to. It was a nest +egg, a monstrous, roc-like nest egg, not so large, however, but that it +could be made larger. Already by the end of that winter Trina had begun +to make up the deficit of two hundred dollars that she had been forced +to expend on the preparations for her marriage. + +McTeague, on his part, never asked himself now-a-days whether he loved +Trina the wife as much as he had loved Trina the young girl. There had +been a time when to kiss Trina, to take her in his arms, had thrilled +him from head to heel with a happiness that was beyond words; even the +smell of her wonderful odorous hair had sent a sensation of faintness +all through him. That time was long past now. Those sudden outbursts of +affection on the part of his little woman, outbursts that only increased +in vehemence the longer they lived together, puzzled rather than +pleased him. He had come to submit to them good-naturedly, answering +her passionate inquiries with a "Sure, sure, Trina, sure I love you. +What--what's the matter with you?" + +There was no passion in the dentist's regard for his wife. He dearly +liked to have her near him, he took an enormous pleasure in watching her +as she moved about their rooms, very much at home, gay and singing from +morning till night; and it was his great delight to call her into the +"Dental Parlors" when a patient was in the chair and, while he held the +plugger, to have her rap in the gold fillings with the little box-wood +mallet as he had taught her. But that tempest of passion, that +overpowering desire that had suddenly taken possession of him that day +when he had given her ether, again when he had caught her in his arms in +the B Street station, and again and again during the early days of their +married life, rarely stirred him now. On the other hand, he was never +assailed with doubts as to the wisdom of his marriage. + +McTeague had relapsed to his wonted stolidity. He never questioned +himself, never looked for motives, never went to the bottom of things. +The year following upon the summer of his marriage was a time of great +contentment for him; after the novelty of the honeymoon had passed he +slipped easily into the new order of things without a question. Thus +his life would be for years to come. Trina was there; he was married and +settled. He accepted the situation. The little animal comforts which for +him constituted the enjoyment of life were ministered to at every +turn, or when they were interfered with--as in the case of his Sunday +afternoon's nap and beer--some agreeable substitute was found. In her +attempts to improve McTeague--to raise him from the stupid animal life +to which he had been accustomed in his bachelor days--Trina was tactful +enough to move so cautiously and with such slowness that the dentist +was unconscious of any process of change. In the matter of the high silk +hat, it seemed to him that the initiative had come from himself. + +Gradually the dentist improved under the influence of his little wife. +He no longer went abroad with frayed cuffs about his huge red wrists--or +worse, without any cuffs at all. Trina kept his linen clean and mended, +doing most of his washing herself, and insisting that he should +change his flannels--thick red flannels they were, with enormous bone +buttons--once a week, his linen shirts twice a week, and his collars and +cuffs every second day. She broke him of the habit of eating with his +knife, she caused him to substitute bottled beer in the place of steam +beer, and she induced him to take off his hat to Miss Baker, to Heise's +wife, and to the other women of his acquaintance. McTeague no longer +spent an evening at Frenna's. Instead of this he brought a couple +of bottles of beer up to the rooms and shared it with Trina. In his +"Parlors" he was no longer gruff and indifferent to his female patients; +he arrived at that stage where he could work and talk to them at the +same time; he even accompanied them to the door, and held it open for +them when the operation was finished, bowing them out with great nods of +his huge square-cut head. + +Besides all this, he began to observe the broader, larger interests of +life, interests that affected him not as an individual, but as a member +of a class, a profession, or a political party. He read the papers, he +subscribed to a dental magazine; on Easter, Christmas, and New Year's +he went to church with Trina. He commenced to have opinions, +convictions--it was not fair to deprive tax-paying women of the +privilege to vote; a university education should not be a prerequisite +for admission to a dental college; the Catholic priests were to be +restrained in their efforts to gain control of the public schools. + +But most wonderful of all, McTeague began to have ambitions--very +vague, very confused ideas of something better--ideas for the most part +borrowed from Trina. Some day, perhaps, he and his wife would have a +house of their own. What a dream! A little home all to themselves, with +six rooms and a bath, with a grass plat in front and calla-lilies. +Then there would be children. He would have a son, whose name would +be Daniel, who would go to High School, and perhaps turn out to be a +prosperous plumber or house painter. Then this son Daniel would marry a +wife, and they would all live together in that six-room-and-bath house; +Daniel would have little children. McTeague would grow old among them +all. The dentist saw himself as a venerable patriarch surrounded by +children and grandchildren. + +So the winter passed. It was a season of great happiness for the +McTeagues; the new life jostled itself into its grooves. A routine +began. + +On weekdays they rose at half-past six, being awakened by the boy who +brought the bottled milk, and who had instructions to pound upon the +bedroom door in passing. Trina made breakfast--coffee, bacon and eggs, +and a roll of Vienna bread from the bakery. The breakfast was eaten in +the kitchen, on the round deal table covered with the shiny oilcloth +table-spread tacked on. After breakfast the dentist immediately betook +himself to his "Parlors" to meet his early morning appointments--those +made with the clerks and shop girls who stopped in for half an hour on +their way to their work. + +Trina, meanwhile, busied herself about the suite, clearing away the +breakfast, sponging off the oilcloth table-spread, making the bed, +pottering about with a broom or duster or cleaning rag. Towards ten +o'clock she opened the windows to air the rooms, then put on her drab +jacket, her little round turban with its red wing, took the butcher's +and grocer's books from the knife basket in the drawer of the kitchen +table, and descended to the street, where she spent a delicious +hour--now in the huge market across the way, now in the grocer's +store with its fragrant aroma of coffee and spices, and now before the +counters of the haberdasher's, intent on a bit of shopping, turning +over ends of veiling, strips of elastic, or slivers of whalebone. On the +street she rubbed elbows with the great ladies of the avenue in their +beautiful dresses, or at intervals she met an acquaintance or two--Miss +Baker, or Heise's lame wife, or Mrs. Ryer. At times she passed the flat +and looked up at the windows of her home, marked by the huge golden +molar that projected, flashing, from the bay window of the "Parlors." +She saw the open windows of the sitting-room, the Nottingham lace +curtains stirring and billowing in the draft, and she caught sight of +Maria Macapa's towelled head as the Mexican maid-of-all-work went to and +fro in the suite, sweeping or carrying away the ashes. Occasionally in +the windows of the "Parlors" she beheld McTeague's rounded back as he +bent to his work. Sometimes, even, they saw each other and waved their +hands gayly in recognition. + +By eleven o'clock Trina returned to the flat, her brown net +reticule--once her mother's--full of parcels. At once she set about +getting lunch--sausages, perhaps, with mashed potatoes; or last +evening's joint warmed over or made into a stew; chocolate, which +Trina adored, and a side dish or two--a salted herring or a couple of +artichokes or a salad. At half-past twelve the dentist came in from the +"Parlors," bringing with him the smell of creosote and of ether. They +sat down to lunch in the sitting-room. They told each other of their +doings throughout the forenoon; Trina showed her purchases, McTeague +recounted the progress of an operation. At one o'clock they separated, +the dentist returning to the "Parlors," Trina settling to her work on +the Noah's ark animals. At about three o'clock she put this work away, +and for the rest of the afternoon was variously occupied--sometimes it +was the mending, sometimes the wash, sometimes new curtains to be put +up, or a bit of carpet to be tacked down, or a letter to be written, or +a visit--generally to Miss Baker--to be returned. Towards five o'clock +the old woman whom they had hired for that purpose came to cook supper, +for even Trina was not equal to the task of preparing three meals a day. + +This woman was French, and was known to the flat as Augustine, no one +taking enough interest in her to inquire for her last name; all that +was known of her was that she was a decayed French laundress, miserably +poor, her trade long since ruined by Chinese competition. Augustine +cooked well, but she was otherwise undesirable, and Trina lost +patience with her at every moment. The old French woman's most marked +characteristic was her timidity. Trina could scarcely address her a +simple direction without Augustine quailing and shrinking; a reproof, +however gentle, threw her into an agony of confusion; while Trina's +anger promptly reduced her to a state of nervous collapse, wherein she +lost all power of speech, while her head began to bob and nod with an +incontrollable twitching of the muscles, much like the oscillations +of the head of a toy donkey. Her timidity was exasperating, her very +presence in the room unstrung the nerves, while her morbid eagerness +to avoid offence only served to develop in her a clumsiness that was at +times beyond belief. More than once Trina had decided that she could no +longer put up with Augustine but each time she had retained her as she +reflected upon her admirably cooked cabbage soups and tapioca puddings, +and--which in Trina's eyes was her chiefest recommendation--the pittance +for which she was contented to work. + +Augustine had a husband. He was a spirit-medium--a "professor." At times +he held seances in the larger rooms of the flat, playing vigorously upon +a mouth-organ and invoking a familiar whom he called "Edna," and whom he +asserted was an Indian maiden. + +The evening was a period of relaxation for Trina and McTeague. They had +supper at six, after which McTeague smoked his pipe and read the papers +for half an hour, while Trina and Augustine cleared away the table and +washed the dishes. Then, as often as not, they went out together. One of +their amusements was to go "down town" after dark and promenade +Market and Kearney Streets. It was very gay; a great many others were +promenading there also. All of the stores were brilliantly lighted and +many of them still open. They walked about aimlessly, looking into +the shop windows. Trina would take McTeague's arm, and he, very much +embarrassed at that, would thrust both hands into his pockets and +pretend not to notice. They stopped before the jewellers' and milliners' +windows, finding a great delight in picking out things for each other, +saying how they would choose this and that if they were rich. Trina did +most of the talking. McTeague merely approving by a growl or a movement +of the head or shoulders; she was interested in the displays of some of +the cheaper stores, but he found an irresistible charm in an enormous +golden molar with four prongs that hung at a corner of Kearney Street. +Sometimes they would look at Mars or at the moon through the street +telescopes or sit for a time in the rotunda of a vast department store +where a band played every evening. + +Occasionally they met Heise the harness-maker and his wife, with +whom they had become acquainted. Then the evening was concluded by a +four-cornered party in the Luxembourg, a quiet German restaurant under +a theatre. Trina had a tamale and a glass of beer, Mrs. Heise (who was +a decayed writing teacher) ate salads, with glasses of grenadine and +currant syrups. Heise drank cocktails and whiskey straight, and urged +the dentist to join him. But McTeague was obstinate, shaking his head. +"I can't drink that stuff," he said. "It don't agree with me, somehow; +I go kinda crazy after two glasses." So he gorged himself with beer and +frankfurter sausages plastered with German mustard. + +When the annual Mechanic's Fair opened, McTeague and Trina often spent +their evenings there, studying the exhibits carefully (since in Trina's +estimation education meant knowing things and being able to talk about +them). Wearying of this they would go up into the gallery, and, leaning +over, look down into the huge amphitheatre full of light and color and +movement. + +There rose to them the vast shuffling noise of thousands of feet and +a subdued roar of conversation like the sound of a great mill. Mingled +with this was the purring of distant machinery, the splashing of a +temporary fountain, and the rhythmic jangling of a brass band, while +in the piano exhibit a hired performer was playing upon a concert +grand with a great flourish. Nearer at hand they could catch ends of +conversation and notes of laughter, the noise of moving dresses, and +the rustle of stiffly starched skirts. Here and there school children +elbowed their way through the crowd, crying shrilly, their hands full of +advertisement pamphlets, fans, picture cards, and toy whips, while the +air itself was full of the smell of fresh popcorn. + +They even spent some time in the art gallery. Trina's cousin Selina, +who gave lessons in hand painting at two bits an hour, generally had an +exhibit on the walls, which they were interested to find. It usually was +a bunch of yellow poppies painted on black velvet and framed in gilt. +They stood before it some little time, hazarding their opinions, and +then moved on slowly from one picture to another. Trina had McTeague buy +a catalogue and made a duty of finding the title of every picture. This, +too, she told McTeague, as a kind of education one ought to cultivate. +Trina professed to be fond of art, having perhaps acquired a taste for +painting and sculpture from her experience with the Noah's ark animals. + +"Of course," she told the dentist, "I'm no critic, I only know what +I like." She knew that she liked the "Ideal Heads," lovely girls with +flowing straw-colored hair and immense, upturned eyes. These always had +for title, "Reverie," or "An Idyll," or "Dreams of Love." + +"I think those are lovely, don't you, Mac?" she said. + +"Yes, yes," answered McTeague, nodding his head, bewildered, trying to +understand. "Yes, yes, lovely, that's the word. Are you dead sure now, +Trina, that all that's hand-painted just like the poppies?" + +Thus the winter passed, a year went by, then two. The little life +of Polk Street, the life of small traders, drug clerks, grocers, +stationers, plumbers, dentists, doctors, spirit-mediums, and the like, +ran on monotonously in its accustomed grooves. The first three years +of their married life wrought little change in the fortunes of the +McTeagues. In the third summer the branch post-office was moved from the +ground floor of the flat to a corner farther up the street in order +to be near the cable line that ran mail cars. Its place was taken by +a German saloon, called a "Wein Stube," in the face of the protests +of every female lodger. A few months later quite a little flurry of +excitement ran through the street on the occasion of "The Polk Street +Open Air Festival," organized to celebrate the introduction there of +electric lights. The festival lasted three days and was quite an affair. +The street was garlanded with yellow and white bunting; there were +processions and "floats" and brass bands. Marcus Schouler was in his +element during the whole time of the celebration. He was one of the +marshals of the parade, and was to be seen at every hour of the +day, wearing a borrowed high hat and cotton gloves, and galloping a +broken-down cab-horse over the cobbles. He carried a baton covered with +yellow and white calico, with which he made furious passes and gestures. +His voice was soon reduced to a whisper by continued shouting, and he +raged and fretted over trifles till he wore himself thin. McTeague was +disgusted with him. As often as Marcus passed the window of the flat the +dentist would mutter: + +"Ah, you think you're smart, don't you?" + +The result of the festival was the organizing of a body known as the +"Polk Street Improvement Club," of which Marcus was elected secretary. +McTeague and Trina often heard of him in this capacity through Heise the +harness-maker. Marcus had evidently come to have political aspirations. +It appeared that he was gaining a reputation as a maker of speeches, +delivered with fiery emphasis, and occasionally reprinted in the +"Progress," the organ of the club--"outraged constituencies," "opinions +warped by personal bias," "eyes blinded by party prejudice," etc. + +Of her family, Trina heard every fortnight in letters from her mother. +The upholstery business which Mr. Sieppe had bought was doing poorly, +and Mrs. Sieppe bewailed the day she had ever left B Street. Mr. Sieppe +was losing money every month. Owgooste, who was to have gone to school, +had been forced to go to work in "the store," picking waste. Mrs. Sieppe +was obliged to take a lodger or two. Affairs were in a very bad way. +Occasionally she spoke of Marcus. Mr. Sieppe had not forgotten him +despite his own troubles, but still had an eye out for some one whom +Marcus could "go in with" on a ranch. + +It was toward the end of this period of three years that Trina and +McTeague had their first serious quarrel. Trina had talked so much about +having a little house of their own at some future day, that McTeague had +at length come to regard the affair as the end and object of all their +labors. For a long time they had had their eyes upon one house in +particular. It was situated on a cross street close by, between Polk +Street and the great avenue one block above, and hardly a Sunday +afternoon passed that Trina and McTeague did not go and look at it. +They stood for fully half an hour upon the other side of the street, +examining every detail of its exterior, hazarding guesses as to +the arrangement of the rooms, commenting upon its immediate +neighborhood--which was rather sordid. The house was a wooden two-story +arrangement, built by a misguided contractor in a sort of hideous +Queen Anne style, all scrolls and meaningless mill work, with a cheap +imitation of stained glass in the light over the door. There was a +microscopic front yard full of dusty calla-lilies. The front door +boasted an electric bell. But for the McTeagues it was an ideal home. +Their idea was to live in this little house, the dentist retaining +merely his office in the flat. The two places were but around the corner +from each other, so that McTeague could lunch with his wife, as usual, +and could even keep his early morning appointments and return to +breakfast if he so desired. + +However, the house was occupied. A Hungarian family lived in it. +The father kept a stationery and notion "bazaar" next to Heise's +harness-shop on Polk Street, while the oldest son played a third violin +in the orchestra of a theatre. The family rented the house unfurnished +for thirty-five dollars, paying extra for the water. + +But one Sunday as Trina and McTeague on their way home from their +usual walk turned into the cross street on which the little house was +situated, they became promptly aware of an unwonted bustle going on +upon the sidewalk in front of it. A dray was back against the curb, +an express wagon drove away loaded with furniture; bedsteads, +looking-glasses, and washbowls littered the sidewalks. The Hungarian +family were moving out. + +"Oh, Mac, look!" gasped Trina. + +"Sure, sure," muttered the dentist. + +After that they spoke but little. For upwards of an hour the two stood +upon the sidewalk opposite, watching intently all that went forward, +absorbed, excited. + +On the evening of the next day they returned and visited the house, +finding a great delight in going from room to room and imagining +themselves installed therein. Here would be the bedroom, here the +dining-room, here a charming little parlor. As they came out upon the +front steps once more they met the owner, an enormous, red-faced fellow, +so fat that his walking seemed merely a certain movement of his feet by +which he pushed his stomach along in front of him. Trina talked with him +a few moments, but arrived at no understanding, and the two went away +after giving him their address. At supper that night McTeague said: + +"Huh--what do you think, Trina?" + +Trina put her chin in the air, tilting back her heavy tiara of swarthy +hair. + +"I am not so sure yet. Thirty-five dollars and the water extra. I don't +think we can afford it, Mac." + +"Ah, pshaw!" growled the dentist, "sure we can." + +"It isn't only that," said Trina, "but it'll cost so much to make the +change." + +"Ah, you talk's though we were paupers. Ain't we got five thousand +dollars?" + +Trina flushed on the instant, even to the lobes of her tiny pale ears, +and put her lips together. + +"Now, Mac, you know I don't want you should talk like that. That money's +never, never to be touched." + +"And you've been savun up a good deal, besides," went on McTeague, +exasperated at Trina's persistent economies. "How much money have you +got in that little brass match-safe in the bottom of your trunk? Pretty +near a hundred dollars, I guess--ah, sure." He shut his eyes and nodded +his great head in a knowing way. + +Trina had more than that in the brass match-safe in question, but her +instinct of hoarding had led her to keep it a secret from her husband. +Now she lied to him with prompt fluency. + +"A hundred dollars! What are you talking of, Mac? I've not got fifty. +I've not got THIRTY." + +"Oh, let's take that little house," broke in McTeague. "We got the +chance now, and it may never come again. Come on, Trina, shall we? Say, +come on, shall we, huh?" + +"We'd have to be awful saving if we did, Mac." + +"Well, sure, I say let's take it." + +"I don't know," said Trina, hesitating. "Wouldn't it be lovely to have a +house all to ourselves? But let's not decide until to-morrow." + +The next day the owner of the house called. Trina was out at her +morning's marketing and the dentist, who had no one in the chair at the +time, received him in the "Parlors." Before he was well aware of it, +McTeague had concluded the bargain. The owner bewildered him with a +world of phrases, made him believe that it would be a great saving to +move into the little house, and finally offered it to him "water free." + +"All right, all right," said McTeague, "I'll take it." + +The other immediately produced a paper. + +"Well, then, suppose you sign for the first month's rent, and we'll +call it a bargain. That's business, you know," and McTeague, hesitating, +signed. + +"I'd like to have talked more with my wife about it first," he said, +dubiously. + +"Oh, that's all right," answered the owner, easily. "I guess if the head +of the family wants a thing, that's enough." + +McTeague could not wait until lunch time to tell the news to Trina. As +soon as he heard her come in, he laid down the plaster-of-paris mould +he was making and went out into the kitchen and found her chopping up +onions. + +"Well, Trina," he said, "we got that house. I've taken it." + +"What do you mean?" she answered, quickly. The dentist told her. + +"And you signed a paper for the first month's rent?" + +"Sure, sure. That's business, you know." + +"Well, why did you DO it?" cried Trina. "You might have asked ME +something about it. Now, what have you done? I was talking with Mrs. +Ryer about that house while I was out this morning, and she said the +Hungarians moved out because it was absolutely unhealthy; there's water +been standing in the basement for months. And she told me, too," Trina +went on indignantly, "that she knew the owner, and she was sure we could +get the house for thirty if we'd bargain for it. Now what have you gone +and done? I hadn't made up my mind about taking the house at all. And +now I WON'T take it, with the water in the basement and all." + +"Well--well," stammered McTeague, helplessly, "we needn't go in if it's +unhealthy." + +"But you've signed a PAPER," cried Trina, exasperated. "You've got +to pay that first month's rent, anyhow--to forfeit it. Oh, you are so +stupid! There's thirty-five dollars just thrown away. I SHAN'T go into +that house; we won't move a FOOT out of here. I've changed my mind about +it, and there's water in the basement besides." + +"Well, I guess we can stand thirty-five dollars," mumbled the dentist, +"if we've got to." + +"Thirty-five dollars just thrown out of the window," cried Trina, her +teeth clicking, every instinct of her parsimony aroused. "Oh, you the +thick-wittedest man that I ever knew. Do you think we're millionaires? +Oh, to think of losing thirty-five dollars like that." Tears were in her +eyes, tears of grief as well as of anger. Never had McTeague seen his +little woman so aroused. Suddenly she rose to her feet and slammed the +chopping-bowl down upon the table. "Well, I won't pay a nickel of it," +she exclaimed. + +"Huh? What, what?" stammered the dentist, taken all aback by her +outburst. + +"I say that you will find that money, that thirty-five dollars, +yourself." + +"Why--why----" + +"It's your stupidity got us into this fix, and you'll be the one that'll +suffer by it." + +"I can't do it, I WON'T do it. We'll--we'll share and share alike. Why, +you said--you told me you'd take the house if the water was free." + +"I NEVER did. I NEVER did. How can you stand there and say such a +thing?" + +"You did tell me that," vociferated McTeague, beginning to get angry in +his turn. + +"Mac, I didn't, and you know it. And what's more, I won't pay a nickel. +Mr. Heise pays his bill next week, it's forty-three dollars, and you can +just pay the thirty-five out of that." + +"Why, you got a whole hundred dollars saved up in your match-safe," +shouted the dentist, throwing out an arm with an awkward gesture. "You +pay half and I'll pay half, that's only fair." + +"No, no, NO," exclaimed Trina. "It's not a hundred dollars. You won't +touch it; you won't touch my money, I tell you." + +"Ah, how does it happen to be yours, I'd like to know?" + +"It's mine! It's mine! It's mine!" cried Trina, her face scarlet, her +teeth clicking like the snap of a closing purse. + +"It ain't any more yours than it is mine." + +"Every penny of it is mine." + +"Ah, what a fine fix you'd get me into," growled the dentist. "I've +signed the paper with the owner; that's business, you know, that's +business, you know; and now you go back on me. Suppose we'd taken the +house, we'd 'a' shared the rent, wouldn't we, just as we do here?" + +Trina shrugged her shoulders with a great affectation of indifference +and began chopping the onions again. + +"You settle it with the owner," she said. "It's your affair; you've got +the money." She pretended to assume a certain calmness as though the +matter was something that no longer affected her. Her manner exasperated +McTeague all the more. + +"No, I won't; no, I won't; I won't either," he shouted. "I'll pay my +half and he can come to you for the other half." Trina put a hand over +her ear to shut out his clamor. + +"Ah, don't try and be smart," cried McTeague. "Come, now, yes or no, +will you pay your half?" + +"You heard what I said." + +"Will you pay it?" + +"No." + +"Miser!" shouted McTeague. "Miser! you're worse than old Zerkow. All +right, all right, keep your money. I'll pay the whole thirty-five. I'd +rather lose it than be such a miser as you." + +"Haven't you got anything to do," returned Trina, "instead of staying +here and abusing me?" + +"Well, then, for the last time, will you help me out?" Trina cut the +heads of a fresh bunch of onions and gave no answer. + +"Huh? will you?" + +"I'd like to have my kitchen to myself, please," she said in a mincing +way, irritating to a last degree. The dentist stamped out of the room, +banging the door behind him. + +For nearly a week the breach between them remained unhealed. Trina only +spoke to the dentist in monosyllables, while he, exasperated at her +calmness and frigid reserve, sulked in his "Dental Parlors," muttering +terrible things beneath his mustache, or finding solace in his +concertina, playing his six lugubrious airs over and over again, or +swearing frightful oaths at his canary. When Heise paid his bill, +McTeague, in a fury, sent the amount to the owner of the little house. + +There was no formal reconciliation between the dentist and his little +woman. Their relations readjusted themselves inevitably. By the end +of the week they were as amicable as ever, but it was long before they +spoke of the little house again. Nor did they ever revisit it of a +Sunday afternoon. A month or so later the Ryers told them that the owner +himself had moved in. The McTeagues never occupied that little house. + +But Trina suffered a reaction after the quarrel. She began to be sorry +she had refused to help her husband, sorry she had brought matters +to such an issue. One afternoon as she was at work on the Noah's ark +animals, she surprised herself crying over the affair. She loved her +"old bear" too much to do him an injustice, and perhaps, after all, she +had been in the wrong. Then it occurred to her how pretty it would be +to come up behind him unexpectedly, and slip the money, thirty-five +dollars, into his hand, and pull his huge head down to her and kiss his +bald spot as she used to do in the days before they were married. + +Then she hesitated, pausing in her work, her knife dropping into her +lap, a half-whittled figure between her fingers. If not thirty-five +dollars, then at least fifteen or sixteen, her share of it. But a +feeling of reluctance, a sudden revolt against this intended generosity, +arose in her. + +"No, no," she said to herself. "I'll give him ten dollars. I'll tell him +it's all I can afford. It IS all I can afford." + +She hastened to finish the figure of the animal she was then at work +upon, putting in the ears and tail with a drop of glue, and tossing it +into the basket at her side. Then she rose and went into the bedroom and +opened her trunk, taking the key from under a corner of the carpet where +she kept it hid. + +At the very bottom of her trunk, under her bridal dress, she kept her +savings. It was all in change--half dollars and dollars for the most +part, with here and there a gold piece. Long since the little brass +match-box had overflowed. Trina kept the surplus in a chamois-skin +sack she had made from an old chest protector. Just now, yielding to +an impulse which often seized her, she drew out the match-box and +the chamois sack, and emptying the contents on the bed, counted them +carefully. It came to one hundred and sixty-five dollars, all told. She +counted it and recounted it and made little piles of it, and rubbed the +gold pieces between the folds of her apron until they shone. + +"Ah, yes, ten dollars is all I can afford to give Mac," said Trina, +"and even then, think of it, ten dollars--it will be four or five months +before I can save that again. But, dear old Mac, I know it would make +him feel glad, and perhaps," she added, suddenly taken with an idea, +"perhaps Mac will refuse to take it." + +She took a ten-dollar piece from the heap and put the rest away. Then +she paused: + +"No, not the gold piece," she said to herself. "It's too pretty. He can +have the silver." She made the change and counted out ten silver dollars +into her palm. But what a difference it made in the appearance and +weight of the little chamois bag! The bag was shrunken and withered, +long wrinkles appeared running downward from the draw-string. It was a +lamentable sight. Trina looked longingly at the ten broad pieces in her +hand. Then suddenly all her intuitive desire of saving, her instinct +of hoarding, her love of money for the money's sake, rose strong within +her. + +"No, no, no," she said. "I can't do it. It may be mean, but I can't help +it. It's stronger than I." She returned the money to the bag and locked +it and the brass match-box in her trunk, turning the key with a long +breath of satisfaction. + +She was a little troubled, however, as she went back into the +sitting-room and took up her work. + +"I didn't use to be so stingy," she told herself. "Since I won in the +lottery I've become a regular little miser. It's growing on me, but +never mind, it's a good fault, and, anyhow, I can't help it." + + + +CHAPTER 11 + + +On that particular morning the McTeagues had risen a half hour earlier +than usual and taken a hurried breakfast in the kitchen on the deal +table with its oilcloth cover. Trina was house-cleaning that week and +had a presentiment of a hard day's work ahead of her, while McTeague +remembered a seven o'clock appointment with a little German shoemaker. + +At about eight o'clock, when the dentist had been in his office for over +an hour, Trina descended upon the bedroom, a towel about her head +and the roller-sweeper in her hand. She covered the bureau and sewing +machine with sheets, and unhooked the chenille portieres between the +bedroom and the sitting-room. As she was tying the Nottingham lace +curtains at the window into great knots, she saw old Miss Baker on the +opposite sidewalk in the street below, and raising the sash called down +to her. + +"Oh, it's you, Mrs. McTeague," cried the retired dressmaker, facing +about, her head in the air. Then a long conversation was begun, Trina, +her arms folded under her breast, her elbows resting on the +window ledge, willing to be idle for a moment; old Miss Baker, her +market-basket on her arm, her hands wrapped in the ends of her worsted +shawl against the cold of the early morning. They exchanged phrases, +calling to each other from window to curb, their breath coming from +their lips in faint puffs of vapor, their voices shrill, and raised to +dominate the clamor of the waking street. The newsboys had made their +appearance on the street, together with the day laborers. The cable cars +had begun to fill up; all along the street could be seen the shopkeepers +taking down their shutters; some were still breakfasting. Now and then +a waiter from one of the cheap restaurants crossed from one sidewalk to +another, balancing on one palm a tray covered with a napkin. + +"Aren't you out pretty early this morning, Miss Baker?" called Trina. + +"No, no," answered the other. "I'm always up at half-past six, but I +don't always get out so soon. I wanted to get a nice head of cabbage +and some lentils for a soup, and if you don't go to market early, the +restaurants get all the best." + +"And you've been to market already, Miss Baker?" + +"Oh, my, yes; and I got a fish--a sole--see." She drew the sole in +question from her basket. + +"Oh, the lovely sole!" exclaimed Trina. + +"I got this one at Spadella's; he always has good fish on Friday. How is +the doctor, Mrs. McTeague?" + +"Ah, Mac is always well, thank you, Miss Baker." + +"You know, Mrs. Ryer told me," cried the little dressmaker, moving +forward a step out of the way of a "glass-put-in" man, "that Doctor +McTeague pulled a tooth of that Catholic priest, Father--oh, I forget +his name--anyhow, he pulled his tooth with his fingers. Was that true, +Mrs. McTeague?" + +"Oh, of course. Mac does that almost all the time now, 'specially with +front teeth. He's got a regular reputation for it. He says it's brought +him more patients than even the sign I gave him," she added, pointing to +the big golden molar projecting from the office window. + +"With his fingers! Now, think of that," exclaimed Miss Baker, wagging +her head. "Isn't he that strong! It's just wonderful. Cleaning house +to-day?" she inquired, glancing at Trina's towelled head. + +"Um hum," answered Trina. "Maria Macapa's coming in to help pretty +soon." + +At the mention of Maria's name the little old dressmaker suddenly +uttered an exclamation. + +"Well, if I'm not here talking to you and forgetting something I was +just dying to tell you. Mrs. McTeague, what ever in the world do +you suppose? Maria and old Zerkow, that red-headed Polish Jew, the +rag-bottles-sacks man, you know, they're going to be married." + +"No!" cried Trina, in blank amazement. "You don't mean it." + +"Of course I do. Isn't it the funniest thing you ever heard of?" + +"Oh, tell me all about it," said Trina, leaning eagerly from the window. +Miss Baker crossed the street and stood just beneath her. + +"Well, Maria came to me last night and wanted me to make her a new gown, +said she wanted something gay, like what the girls at the candy store +wear when they go out with their young men. I couldn't tell what had +got into the girl, until finally she told me she wanted something to get +married in, and that Zerkow had asked her to marry him, and that she was +going to do it. Poor Maria! I guess it's the first and only offer she +ever received, and it's just turned her head." + +"But what DO those two see in each other?" cried Trina. "Zerkow is a +horror, he's an old man, and his hair is red and his voice is gone, and +then he's a Jew, isn't he?" + +"I know, I know; but it's Maria's only chance for a husband, and she +don't mean to let it pass. You know she isn't quite right in her head, +anyhow. I'm awfully sorry for poor Maria. But I can't see what Zerkow +wants to marry her for. It's not possible that he's in love with Maria, +it's out of the question. Maria hasn't a sou, either, and I'm just +positive that Zerkow has lots of money." + +"I'll bet I know why," exclaimed Trina, with sudden conviction; "yes, +I know just why. See here, Miss Baker, you know how crazy old Zerkow is +after money and gold and those sort of things." + +"Yes, I know; but you know Maria hasn't----" + +"Now, just listen. You've heard Maria tell about that wonderful service +of gold dishes she says her folks used to own in Central America; she's +crazy on that subject, don't you know. She's all right on everything +else, but just start her on that service of gold plate and she'll talk +you deaf. She can describe it just as though she saw it, and she can +make you see it, too, almost. Now, you see, Maria and Zerkow have known +each other pretty well. Maria goes to him every two weeks or so to sell +him junk; they got acquainted that way, and I know Maria's been dropping +in to see him pretty often this last year, and sometimes he comes here +to see her. He's made Maria tell him the story of that plate over and +over and over again, and Maria does it and is glad to, because he's the +only one that believes it. Now he's going to marry her just so's he can +hear that story every day, every hour. He's pretty near as crazy on the +subject as Maria is. They're a pair for you, aren't they? Both crazy +over a lot of gold dishes that never existed. Perhaps Maria'll marry him +because it's her only chance to get a husband, but I'm sure it's more +for the reason that she's got some one to talk to now who believes her +story. Don't you think I'm right?" + +"Yes, yes, I guess you're right," admitted Miss Baker. + +"But it's a queer match anyway you put it," said Trina, musingly. + +"Ah, you may well say that," returned the other, nodding her head. There +was a silence. For a long moment the dentist's wife and the retired +dressmaker, the one at the window, the other on the sidewalk, remained +lost in thought, wondering over the strangeness of the affair. + +But suddenly there was a diversion. Alexander, Marcus Schouler's Irish +setter, whom his master had long since allowed the liberty of running +untrammelled about the neighborhood, turned the corner briskly and came +trotting along the sidewalk where Miss Baker stood. At the same moment +the Scotch collie who had at one time belonged to the branch post-office +issued from the side door of a house not fifty feet away. In an instant +the two enemies had recognized each other. They halted abruptly, their +fore feet planted rigidly. Trina uttered a little cry. + +"Oh, look out, Miss Baker. Those two dogs hate each other just like +humans. You best look out. They'll fight sure." Miss Baker sought +safety in a nearby vestibule, whence she peered forth at the scene, very +interested and curious. Maria Macapa's head thrust itself from one of +the top-story windows of the flat, with a shrill cry. Even McTeague's +huge form appeared above the half curtains of the "Parlor" windows, +while over his shoulder could be seen the face of the "patient," a +napkin tucked in his collar, the rubber dam depending from his mouth. +All the flat knew of the feud between the dogs, but never before had the +pair been brought face to face. + +Meanwhile, the collie and the setter had drawn near to each other; +five feet apart they paused as if by mutual consent. The collie turned +sidewise to the setter; the setter instantly wheeled himself flank on to +the collie. Their tails rose and stiffened, they raised their lips over +their long white fangs, the napes of their necks bristled, and they +showed each other the vicious whites of their eyes, while they drew in +their breaths with prolonged and rasping snarls. Each dog seemed to be +the personification of fury and unsatisfied hate. They began to circle +about each other with infinite slowness, walking stiffed-legged and +upon the very points of their feet. Then they wheeled about and began to +circle in the opposite direction. Twice they repeated this motion, their +snarls growing louder. But still they did not come together, and +the distance of five feet between them was maintained with an almost +mathematical precision. It was magnificent, but it was not war. Then the +setter, pausing in his walk, turned his head slowly from his enemy. The +collie sniffed the air and pretended an interest in an old shoe lying +in the gutter. Gradually and with all the dignity of monarchs they +moved away from each other. Alexander stalked back to the corner of +the street. The collie paced toward the side gate whence he had issued, +affecting to remember something of great importance. They disappeared. +Once out of sight of one another they began to bark furiously. + +"Well, I NEVER!" exclaimed Trina in great disgust. "The way those two +dogs have been carrying on you'd 'a' thought they would 'a' just torn +each other to pieces when they had the chance, and here I'm wasting the +whole morning----" she closed her window with a bang. + +"Sick 'im, sick 'im," called Maria Macapa, in a vain attempt to promote +a fight. + +Old Miss Baker came out of the vestibule, pursing her lips, quite +put out at the fiasco. "And after all that fuss," she said to herself +aggrievedly. + +The little dressmaker bought an envelope of nasturtium seeds at the +florist's, and returned to her tiny room in the flat. But as she slowly +mounted the first flight of steps she suddenly came face to face with +Old Grannis, who was coming down. It was between eight and nine, and +he was on his way to his little dog hospital, no doubt. Instantly Miss +Baker was seized with trepidation, her curious little false curls shook, +a faint--a very faint--flush came into her withered cheeks, and her +heart beat so violently under the worsted shawl that she felt obliged +to shift the market-basket to her other arm and put out her free hand to +steady herself against the rail. + +On his part, Old Grannis was instantly overwhelmed with confusion. His +awkwardness seemed to paralyze his limbs, his lips twitched and turned +dry, his hand went tremblingly to his chin. But what added to Miss +Baker's miserable embarrassment on this occasion was the fact that the +old Englishman should meet her thus, carrying a sordid market-basket +full of sordid fish and cabbage. It seemed as if a malicious fate +persisted in bringing the two old people face to face at the most +inopportune moments. + +Just now, however, a veritable catastrophe occurred. The little old +dressmaker changed her basket to her other arm at precisely the wrong +moment, and Old Grannis, hastening to pass, removing his hat in a +hurried salutation, struck it with his fore arm, knocking it from her +grasp, and sending it rolling and bumping down the stairs. The sole fell +flat upon the first landing; the lentils scattered themselves over the +entire flight; while the cabbage, leaping from step to step, thundered +down the incline and brought up against the street door with a shock +that reverberated through the entire building. + +The little retired dressmaker, horribly vexed, nervous and embarrassed, +was hard put to it to keep back the tears. Old Grannis stood for a +moment with averted eyes, murmuring: "Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. +I--I really--I beg your pardon, really--really." + +Marcus Schouler, coming down stairs from his room, saved the situation. + +"Hello, people," he cried. "By damn! you've upset your basket--you have, +for a fact. Here, let's pick um up." He and Old Grannis went up and down +the flight, gathering up the fish, the lentils, and the sadly battered +cabbage. Marcus was raging over the pusillanimity of Alexander, of which +Maria had just told him. + +"I'll cut him in two--with the whip," he shouted. "I will, I will, I say +I will, for a fact. He wouldn't fight, hey? I'll give um all the fight +he wants, nasty, mangy cur. If he won't fight he won't eat. I'm going +to get the butcher's bull pup and I'll put um both in a bag and shake um +up. I will, for a fact, and I guess Alec will fight. Come along, Mister +Grannis," and he took the old Englishman away. + +Little Miss Baker hastened to her room and locked herself in. She was +excited and upset during all the rest of the day, and listened eagerly +for Old Grannis's return that evening. He went instantly to work binding +up "The Breeder and Sportsman," and back numbers of the "Nation." She +heard him softly draw his chair and the table on which he had placed his +little binding apparatus close to the wall. At once she did the same, +brewing herself a cup of tea. All through that evening the two old +people "kept company" with each other, after their own peculiar fashion. +"Setting out with each other" Miss Baker had begun to call it. That they +had been presented, that they had even been forced to talk together, had +made no change in their relative positions. Almost immediately they +had fallen back into their old ways again, quite unable to master their +timidity, to overcome the stifling embarrassment that seized upon them +when in each other's presence. It was a sort of hypnotism, a thing +stronger than themselves. But they were not altogether dissatisfied with +the way things had come to be. It was their little romance, their +last, and they were living through it with supreme enjoyment and calm +contentment. + +Marcus Schouler still occupied his old room on the floor above the +McTeagues. They saw but little of him, however. At long intervals the +dentist or his wife met him on the stairs of the flat. Sometimes he +would stop and talk with Trina, inquiring after the Sieppes, asking her +if Mr. Sieppe had yet heard of any one with whom he, Marcus, could "go +in with on a ranch." McTeague, Marcus merely nodded to. Never had the +quarrel between the two men been completely patched up. It did not seem +possible to the dentist now that Marcus had ever been his "pal," that +they had ever taken long walks together. He was sorry that he had +treated Marcus gratis for an ulcerated tooth, while Marcus daily +recalled the fact that he had given up his "girl" to his friend--the +girl who had won a fortune--as the great mistake of his life. Only +once since the wedding had he called upon Trina, at a time when he knew +McTeague would be out. Trina had shown him through the rooms and had +told him, innocently enough, how gay was their life there. Marcus had +come away fairly sick with envy; his rancor against the dentist--and +against himself, for that matter--knew no bounds. "And you might 'a' had +it all yourself, Marcus Schouler," he muttered to himself on the stairs. +"You mushhead, you damn fool!" + +Meanwhile, Marcus was becoming involved in the politics of his ward. As +secretary of the Polk Street Improvement Club--which soon developed +into quite an affair and began to assume the proportions of a Republican +political machine--he found he could make a little, a very little more +than enough to live on. At once he had given up his position as Old +Grannis's assistant in the dog hospital. Marcus felt that he needed a +wider sphere. He had his eye upon a place connected with the city pound. +When the great railroad strike occurred, he promptly got himself engaged +as deputy-sheriff, and spent a memorable week in Sacramento, where he +involved himself in more than one terrible melee with the strikers. +Marcus had that quickness of temper and passionate readiness to take +offence which passes among his class for bravery. But whatever were +his motives, his promptness to face danger could not for a moment be +doubted. After the strike he returned to Polk Street, and throwing +himself into the Improvement Club, heart, soul, and body, soon became +one of its ruling spirits. In a certain local election, where a huge +paving contract was at stake, the club made itself felt in the ward, and +Marcus so managed his cards and pulled his wires that, at the end of the +matter, he found himself some four hundred dollars to the good. + +When McTeague came out of his "Parlors" at noon of the day upon which +Trina had heard the news of Maria Macapa's intended marriage, he found +Trina burning coffee on a shovel in the sitting-room. Try as she would, +Trina could never quite eradicate from their rooms a certain faint +and indefinable odor, particularly offensive to her. The smell of the +photographer's chemicals persisted in spite of all Trina could do to +combat it. She burnt pastilles and Chinese punk, and even, as now, +coffee on a shovel, all to no purpose. Indeed, the only drawback to +their delightful home was the general unpleasant smell that pervaded +it--a smell that arose partly from the photographer's chemicals, partly +from the cooking in the little kitchen, and partly from the ether and +creosote of the dentist's "Parlors." + +As McTeague came in to lunch on this occasion, he found the table +already laid, a red cloth figured with white flowers was spread, and as +he took his seat his wife put down the shovel on a chair and brought +in the stewed codfish and the pot of chocolate. As he tucked his napkin +into his enormous collar, McTeague looked vaguely about the room, +rolling his eyes. + +During the three years of their married life the McTeagues had made but +few additions to their furniture, Trina declaring that they could not +afford it. The sitting-room could boast of but three new ornaments. Over +the melodeon hung their marriage certificate in a black frame. It was +balanced upon one side by Trina's wedding bouquet under a glass case, +preserved by some fearful unknown process, and upon the other by the +photograph of Trina and the dentist in their wedding finery. This latter +picture was quite an affair, and had been taken immediately after the +wedding, while McTeague's broadcloth was still new, and before Trina's +silks and veil had lost their stiffness. It represented Trina, her veil +thrown back, sitting very straight in a rep armchair, her elbows well +in at her sides, holding her bouquet of cut flowers directly before +her. The dentist stood at her side, one hand on her shoulder, the other +thrust into the breast of his "Prince Albert," his chin in the air, his +eyes to one side, his left foot forward in the attitude of a statue of a +Secretary of State. + +"Say, Trina," said McTeague, his mouth full of codfish, "Heise looked in +on me this morning. He says 'What's the matter with a basket picnic over +at Schuetzen Park next Tuesday?' You know the paper-hangers are going +to be in the 'Parlors' all that day, so I'll have a holiday. That's what +made Heise think of it. Heise says he'll get the Ryers to go too. It's +the anniversary of their wedding day. We'll ask Selina to go; she can +meet us on the other side. Come on, let's go, huh, will you?" + +Trina still had her mania for family picnics, which had been one of the +Sieppes most cherished customs; but now there were other considerations. + +"I don't know as we can afford it this month, Mac," she said, pouring +the chocolate. "I got to pay the gas bill next week, and there's the +papering of your office to be paid for some time." + +"I know, I know," answered her husband. "But I got a new patient this +week, had two molars and an upper incisor filled at the very first +sitting, and he's going to bring his children round. He's a barber on +the next block." + +"Well you pay half, then," said Trina. "It'll cost three or four dollars +at the very least; and mind, the Heises pay their own fare both ways, +Mac, and everybody gets their OWN lunch. Yes," she added, after a pause, +"I'll write and have Selina join us. I haven't seen Selina in months. I +guess I'll have to put up a lunch for her, though," admitted Trina, "the +way we did last time, because she lives in a boarding-house now, and +they make a fuss about putting up a lunch." + +They could count on pleasant weather at this time of the year--it was +May--and that particular Tuesday was all that could be desired. The +party assembled at the ferry slip at nine o'clock, laden with baskets. +The McTeagues came last of all; Ryer and his wife had already boarded +the boat. They met the Heises in the waiting-room. + +"Hello, Doctor," cried the harness-maker as the McTeagues came up. "This +is what you'd call an old folks' picnic, all married people this time." + +The party foregathered on the upper deck as the boat started, and sat +down to listen to the band of Italian musicians who were playing outside +this morning because of the fineness of the weather. + +"Oh, we're going to have lots of fun," cried Trina. "If it's anything I +do love it's a picnic. Do you remember our first picnic, Mac?" + +"Sure, sure," replied the dentist; "we had a Gotha truffle." + +"And August lost his steamboat," put in Trina, "and papa smacked him. I +remember it just as well." + +"Why, look there," said Mrs. Heise, nodding at a figure coming up the +companion-way. "Ain't that Mr. Schouler?" + +It was Marcus, sure enough. As he caught sight of the party he gaped at +them a moment in blank astonishment, and then ran up, his eyes wide. + +"Well, by damn!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "What's up? Where you all +going, anyhow? Say, ain't ut queer we should all run up against each +other like this?" He made great sweeping bows to the three women, and +shook hands with "Cousin Trina," adding, as he turned to the men of +the party, "Glad to see you, Mister Heise. How do, Mister Ryer?" The +dentist, who had formulated some sort of reserved greeting, he +ignored completely. McTeague settled himself in his seat, growling +inarticulately behind his mustache. + +"Say, say, what's all up, anyhow?" cried Marcus again. + +"It's a picnic," exclaimed the three women, all speaking at once; and +Trina added, "We're going over to the same old Schuetzen Park again. But +you're all fixed up yourself, Cousin Mark; you look as though you were +going somewhere yourself." + +In fact, Marcus was dressed with great care. He wore a new pair of +slate-blue trousers, a black "cutaway," and a white lawn "tie" (for him +the symbol of the height of elegance). He carried also his cane, a thin +wand of ebony with a gold head, presented to him by the Improvement Club +in "recognition of services." + +"That's right, that's right," said Marcus, with a grin. "I'm takun a +holiday myself to-day. I had a bit of business to do over at Oakland, +an' I thought I'd go up to B Street afterward and see Selina. I haven't +called on----" + +But the party uttered an exclamation. + +"Why, Selina is going with us." + +"She's going to meet us at the Schuetzen Park station" explained Trina. + +Marcus's business in Oakland was a fiction. He was crossing the bay that +morning solely to see Selina. Marcus had "taken up with" Selina a little +after Trina had married, and had been "rushing" her ever since, dazzled +and attracted by her accomplishments, for which he pretended a great +respect. At the prospect of missing Selina on this occasion, he was +genuinely disappointed. His vexation at once assumed the form of +exasperation against McTeague. It was all the dentist's fault. Ah, +McTeague was coming between him and Selina now as he had come between +him and Trina. Best look out, by damn! how he monkeyed with him now. +Instantly his face flamed and he glanced over furiously at the dentist, +who, catching his eye, began again to mutter behind his mustache. + +"Well, say," began Mrs. Ryer, with some hesitation, looking to Ryer for +approval, "why can't Marcus come along with us?" + +"Why, of course," exclaimed Mrs. Heise, disregarding her husband's +vigorous nudges. "I guess we got lunch enough to go round, all right; +don't you say so, Mrs. McTeague?" + +Thus appealed to, Trina could only concur. + +"Why, of course, Cousin Mark," she said; "of course, come along with us +if you want to." + +"Why, you bet I will," cried Marcus, enthusiastic in an instant. "Say, +this is outa sight; it is, for a fact; a picnic--ah, sure--and we'll +meet Selina at the station." + +Just as the boat was passing Goat Island, the harness-maker proposed +that the men of the party should go down to the bar on the lower deck +and shake for the drinks. The idea had an immediate success. + +"Have to see you on that," said Ryer. + +"By damn, we'll have a drink! Yes, sir, we will, for a fact." + +"Sure, sure, drinks, that's the word." + +At the bar Heise and Ryer ordered cocktails, Marcus called for a "creme +Yvette" in order to astonish the others. The dentist spoke for a glass +of beer. + +"Say, look here," suddenly exclaimed Heise as they took their glasses. +"Look here, you fellahs," he had turned to Marcus and the dentist. "You +two fellahs have had a grouch at each other for the last year or so; now +what's the matter with your shaking hands and calling quits?" + +McTeague was at once overcome with a great feeling of magnanimity. He +put out his great hand. + +"I got nothing against Marcus," he growled. + +"Well, I don't care if I shake," admitted Marcus, a little shamefacedly, +as their palms touched. "I guess that's all right." + +"That's the idea," exclaimed Heise, delighted at his success. "Come on, +boys, now let's drink." Their elbows crooked and they drank silently. + +Their picnic that day was very jolly. Nothing had changed at Schuetzen +Park since the day of that other memorable Sieppe picnic four years +previous. After lunch the men took themselves off to the rifle range, +while Selina, Trina, and the other two women put away the dishes. +An hour later the men joined them in great spirits. Ryer had won the +impromptu match which they had arranged, making quite a wonderful score, +which included three clean bulls' eyes, while McTeague had not been able +even to hit the target itself. + +Their shooting match had awakened a spirit of rivalry in the men, and +the rest of the afternoon was passed in athletic exercises between them. +The women sat on the slope of the grass, their hats and gloves laid +aside, watching the men as they strove together. Aroused by the little +feminine cries of wonder and the clapping of their ungloved palms, these +latter began to show off at once. They took off their coats and vests, +even their neckties and collars, and worked themselves into a lather of +perspiration for the sake of making an impression on their wives. They +ran hundred-yard sprints on the cinder path and executed clumsy feats on +the rings and on the parallel bars. They even found a huge round +stone on the beach and "put the shot" for a while. As long as it was +a question of agility, Marcus was easily the best of the four; but the +dentist's enormous strength, his crude, untutored brute force, was +a matter of wonder for the entire party. McTeague cracked English +walnuts--taken from the lunch baskets--in the hollow of his arm, and +tossed the round stone a full five feet beyond their best mark. Heise +believed himself to be particularly strong in the wrists, but the +dentist, using but one hand, twisted a cane out of Heise's two with a +wrench that all but sprained the harnessmaker's arm. Then the dentist +raised weights and chinned himself on the rings till they thought he +would never tire. + +His great success quite turned his head; he strutted back and forth +in front of the women, his chest thrown out, and his great mouth +perpetually expanded in a triumphant grin. As he felt his strength more +and more, he began to abuse it; he domineered over the others, gripping +suddenly at their arms till they squirmed with pain, and slapping Marcus +on the back so that he gasped and gagged for breath. The childish vanity +of the great fellow was as undisguised as that of a schoolboy. He began +to tell of wonderful feats of strength he had accomplished when he was a +young man. Why, at one time he had knocked down a half-grown heifer +with a blow of his fist between the eyes, sure, and the heifer had just +stiffened out and trembled all over and died without getting up. + +McTeague told this story again, and yet again. All through the afternoon +he could be overheard relating the wonder to any one who would listen, +exaggerating the effect of his blow, inventing terrific details. Why, +the heifer had just frothed at the mouth, and his eyes had rolled +up--ah, sure, his eyes rolled up just like that--and the butcher had +said his skull was all mashed in--just all mashed in, sure, that's the +word--just as if from a sledge-hammer. + +Notwithstanding his reconciliation with the dentist on the boat, +Marcus's gorge rose within him at McTeague's boasting swagger. When +McTeague had slapped him on the back, Marcus had retired to some little +distance while he recovered his breath, and glared at the dentist +fiercely as he strode up and down, glorying in the admiring glances of +the women. + +"Ah, one-horse dentist," he muttered between his teeth. "Ah, +zinc-plugger, cow-killer, I'd like to show you once, you overgrown +mucker, you--you--COW-KILLER!" + +When he rejoined the group, he found them preparing for a wrestling +bout. + +"I tell you what," said Heise, "we'll have a tournament. Marcus and I +will rastle, and Doc and Ryer, and then the winners will rastle each +other." + +The women clapped their hands excitedly. This would be exciting. Trina +cried: + +"Better let me hold your money, Mac, and your keys, so as you won't lose +them out of your pockets." The men gave their valuables into the keeping +of their wives and promptly set to work. + +The dentist thrust Ryer down without even changing his grip; Marcus and +the harness-maker struggled together for a few moments till Heise all at +once slipped on a bit of turf and fell backwards. As they toppled over +together, Marcus writhed himself from under his opponent, and, as they +reached the ground, forced down first one shoulder and then the other. + +"All right, all right," panted the harness-maker, goodnaturedly, "I'm +down. It's up to you and Doc now," he added, as he got to his feet. + +The match between McTeague and Marcus promised to be interesting. The +dentist, of course, had an enormous advantage in point of strength, +but Marcus prided himself on his wrestling, and knew something about +strangle-holds and half-Nelsons. The men drew back to allow them a free +space as they faced each other, while Trina and the other women rose to +their feet in their excitement. + +"I bet Mac will throw him, all the same," said Trina. + +"All ready!" cried Ryer. + +The dentist and Marcus stepped forward, eyeing each other cautiously. +They circled around the impromptu ring. Marcus watching eagerly for an +opening. He ground his teeth, telling himself he would throw McTeague +if it killed him. Ah, he'd show him now. Suddenly the two men caught at +each other; Marcus went to his knees. The dentist threw his vast bulk on +his adversary's shoulders and, thrusting a huge palm against his face, +pushed him backwards and downwards. It was out of the question to resist +that enormous strength. Marcus wrenched himself over and fell face +downward on the ground. + +McTeague rose on the instant with a great laugh of exultation. + +"You're down!" he exclaimed. + +Marcus leaped to his feet. + +"Down nothing," he vociferated, with clenched fists. "Down nothing, by +damn! You got to throw me so's my shoulders touch." + +McTeague was stalking about, swelling with pride. + +"Hoh, you're down. I threw you. Didn't I throw him, Trina? Hoh, you +can't rastle ME." + +Marcus capered with rage. + +"You didn't! you didn't! you didn't! and you can't! You got to give me +another try." + +The other men came crowding up. Everybody was talking at once. + +"He's right." + +"You didn't throw him." + +"Both his shoulders at the same time." + +Trina clapped and waved her hand at McTeague from where she stood on +the little slope of lawn above the wrestlers. Marcus broke through the +group, shaking all over with excitement and rage. + +"I tell you that ain't the WAY to rastle. You've got to throw a man so's +his shoulders touch. You got to give me another bout." + +"That's straight," put in Heise, "both his shoulders down at the same +time. Try it again. You and Schouler have another try." + +McTeague was bewildered by so much simultaneous talk. He could not make +out what it was all about. Could he have offended Marcus again? + +"What? What? Huh? What is it?" he exclaimed in perplexity, looking from +one to the other. + +"Come on, you must rastle me again," shouted Marcus. + +"Sure, sure," cried the dentist. "I'll rastle you again. I'll rastle +everybody," he cried, suddenly struck with an idea. Trina looked on in +some apprehension. + +"Mark gets so mad," she said, half aloud. + +"Yes," admitted Selina. "Mister Schouler's got an awful quick temper, +but he ain't afraid of anything." + +"All ready!" shouted Ryer. + +This time Marcus was more careful. Twice, as McTeague rushed at him, he +slipped cleverly away. But as the dentist came in a third time, with his +head bowed, Marcus, raising himself to his full height, caught him with +both arms around the neck. The dentist gripped at him and rent away the +sleeve of his shirt. There was a great laugh. + +"Keep your shirt on," cried Mrs. Ryer. + +The two men were grappling at each other wildly. The party could hear +them panting and grunting as they labored and struggled. Their boots +tore up great clods of turf. Suddenly they came to the ground with a +tremendous shock. But even as they were in the act of falling, Marcus, +like a very eel, writhed in the dentist's clasp and fell upon his side. +McTeague crashed down upon him like the collapse of a felled ox. + +"Now, you gotta turn him on his back," shouted Heise to the dentist. "He +ain't down if you don't." + +With his huge salient chin digging into Marcus's shoulder, the dentist +heaved and tugged. His face was flaming, his huge shock of yellow hair +fell over his forehead, matted with sweat. Marcus began to yield despite +his frantic efforts. One shoulder was down, now the other began to go; +gradually, gradually it was forced over. The little audience held its +breath in the suspense of the moment. Selina broke the silence, calling +out shrilly: + +"Ain't Doctor McTeague just that strong!" + +Marcus heard it, and his fury came instantly to a head. Rage at his +defeat at the hands of the dentist and before Selina's eyes, the hate +he still bore his old-time "pal" and the impotent wrath of his own +powerlessness were suddenly unleashed. + +"God damn you! get off of me," he cried under his breath, spitting the +words as a snake spits its venom. The little audience uttered a cry. +With the oath Marcus had twisted his head and had bitten through the +lobe of the dentist's ear. There was a sudden flash of bright-red blood. + +Then followed a terrible scene. The brute that in McTeague lay so close +to the surface leaped instantly to life, monstrous, not to be resisted. +He sprang to his feet with a shrill and meaningless clamor, totally +unlike the ordinary bass of his speaking tones. It was the hideous +yelling of a hurt beast, the squealing of a wounded elephant. He +framed no words; in the rush of high-pitched sound that issued from his +wide-open mouth there was nothing articulate. It was something no longer +human; it was rather an echo from the jungle. + +Sluggish enough and slow to anger on ordinary occasions, McTeague when +finally aroused became another man. His rage was a kind of obsession, an +evil mania, the drunkenness of passion, the exalted and perverted fury +of the Berserker, blind and deaf, a thing insensate. + +As he rose he caught Marcus's wrist in both his hands. He did not +strike, he did not know what he was doing. His only idea was to batter +the life out of the man before him, to crush and annihilate him upon the +instant. Gripping his enemy in his enormous hands, hard and knotted, +and covered with a stiff fell of yellow hair--the hands of the old-time +car-boy--he swung him wide, as a hammer-thrower swings his hammer. +Marcus's feet flipped from the ground, he spun through the air about +McTeague as helpless as a bundle of clothes. All at once there was a +sharp snap, almost like the report of a small pistol. Then Marcus rolled +over and over upon the ground as McTeague released his grip; his arm, +the one the dentist had seized, bending suddenly, as though a third +joint had formed between wrist and elbow. The arm was broken. + +But by this time every one was crying out at once. Heise and Ryan ran in +between the two men. Selina turned her head away. Trina was wringing her +hands and crying in an agony of dread: + +"Oh, stop them, stop them! Don't let them fight. Oh, it's too awful." + +"Here, here, Doc, quit. Don't make a fool of yourself," cried Heise, +clinging to the dentist. "That's enough now. LISTEN to me, will you?" + +"Oh, Mac, Mac," cried Trina, running to her husband. "Mac, dear, listen; +it's me, it's Trina, look at me, you----" + +"Get hold of his other arm, will you, Ryer?" panted Heise. "Quick!" + +"Mac, Mac," cried Trina, her arms about his neck. + +"For God's sake, hold up, Doc, will you?" shouted the harness-maker. +"You don't want to kill him, do you?" + +Mrs. Ryer and Heise's lame wife were filling the air with their +outcries. Selina was giggling with hysteria. Marcus, terrified, but too +brave to run, had picked up a jagged stone with his left hand and stood +on the defensive. His swollen right arm, from which the shirt sleeve had +been torn, dangled at his side, the back of the hand twisted where the +palm should have been. The shirt itself was a mass of grass stains and +was spotted with the dentist's blood. + +But McTeague, in the centre of the group that struggled to hold him, was +nigh to madness. The side of his face, his neck, and all the shoulder +and breast of his shirt were covered with blood. He had ceased to cry +out, but kept muttering between his gripped jaws, as he labored to tear +himself free of the retaining hands: + +"Ah, I'll kill him! Ah, I'll kill him! I'll kill him! Damn you, Heise," +he exclaimed suddenly, trying to strike the harness-maker, "let go of +me, will you!" + +Little by little they pacified him, or rather (for he paid but little +attention to what was said to him) his bestial fury lapsed by degrees. +He turned away and let fall his arms, drawing long breaths, and looking +stupidly about him, now searching helplessly upon the ground, now gazing +vaguely into the circle of faces about him. His ear bled as though it +would never stop. + +"Say, Doctor," asked Heise, "what's the best thing to do?" + +"Huh?" answered McTeague. "What--what do you mean? What is it?" + +"What'll we do to stop this bleeding here?" + +McTeague did not answer, but looked intently at the blood-stained bosom +of his shirt. + +"Mac," cried Trina, her face close to his, "tell us something--the best +thing we can do to stop your ear bleeding." + +"Collodium," said the dentist. + +"But we can't get to that right away; we--" + +"There's some ice in our lunch basket," broke in Heise. "We brought it +for the beer; and take the napkins and make a bandage." + +"Ice," muttered the dentist, "sure, ice, that's the word." + +Mrs. Heise and the Ryers were looking after Marcus's broken arm. Selina +sat on the slope of the grass, gasping and sobbing. Trina tore the +napkins into strips, and, crushing some of the ice, made a bandage for +her husband's head.' + +The party resolved itself into two groups; the Ryers and Mrs. Heise +bending over Marcus, while the harness-maker and Trina came and went +about McTeague, sitting on the ground, his shirt, a mere blur of red +and white, detaching itself violently from the background of pale-green +grass. Between the two groups was the torn and trampled bit of turf, the +wrestling ring; the picnic baskets, together with empty beer bottles, +broken egg-shells, and discarded sardine tins, were scattered here and +there. In the middle of the improvised wrestling ring the sleeve of +Marcus's shirt fluttered occasionally in the sea breeze. + +Nobody was paying any attention to Selina. All at once she began to +giggle hysterically again, then cried out with a peal of laughter: + +"Oh, what a way for our picnic to end!" + + + +CHAPTER 12 + + +"Now, then, Maria," said Zerkow, his cracked, strained voice just rising +above a whisper, hitching his chair closer to the table, "now, then, my +girl, let's have it all over again. Tell us about the gold plate--the +service. Begin with, 'There were over a hundred pieces and every one of +them gold.'" + +"I don't know what you're talking about, Zerkow," answered Maria. "There +never was no gold plate, no gold service. I guess you must have dreamed +it." + +Maria and the red-headed Polish Jew had been married about a month after +the McTeague's picnic which had ended in such lamentable fashion. Zerkow +had taken Maria home to his wretched hovel in the alley back of the +flat, and the flat had been obliged to get another maid of all work. +Time passed, a month, six months, a whole year went by. At length Maria +gave birth to a child, a wretched, sickly child, with not even strength +enough nor wits enough to cry. At the time of its birth Maria was out of +her mind, and continued in a state of dementia for nearly ten days. She +recovered just in time to make the arrangements for the baby's burial. +Neither Zerkow nor Maria was much affected by either the birth or the +death of this little child. Zerkow had welcomed it with pronounced +disfavor, since it had a mouth to be fed and wants to be provided for. +Maria was out of her head so much of the time that she could scarcely +remember how it looked when alive. The child was a mere incident in +their lives, a thing that had come undesired and had gone unregretted. +It had not even a name; a strange, hybrid little being, come and gone +within a fortnight's time, yet combining in its puny little body the +blood of the Hebrew, the Pole, and the Spaniard. + +But the birth of this child had peculiar consequences. Maria came out +of her dementia, and in a few days the household settled itself again +to its sordid regime and Maria went about her duties as usual. Then one +evening, about a week after the child's burial, Zerkow had asked Maria +to tell him the story of the famous service of gold plate for the +hundredth time. + +Zerkow had come to believe in this story infallibly. He was immovably +persuaded that at one time Maria or Maria's people had possessed these +hundred golden dishes. In his perverted mind the hallucination had +developed still further. Not only had that service of gold plate once +existed, but it existed now, entire, intact; not a single burnished +golden piece of it was missing. It was somewhere, somebody had it, +locked away in that leather trunk with its quilted lining and round +brass locks. It was to be searched for and secured, to be fought for, +to be gained at all hazards. Maria must know where it was; by dint of +questioning, Zerkow would surely get the information from her. Some day, +if only he was persistent, he would hit upon the right combination of +questions, the right suggestion that would disentangle Maria's confused +recollections. Maria would tell him where the thing was kept, was +concealed, was buried, and he would go to that place and secure it, and +all that wonderful gold would be his forever and forever. This service +of plate had come to be Zerkow's mania. + +On this particular evening, about a week after the child's burial, in +the wretched back room of the Junk shop, Zerkow had made Maria sit down +to the table opposite him--the whiskey bottle and the red glass tumbler +with its broken base between them--and had said: + +"Now, then, Maria, tell us that story of the gold dishes again." + +Maria stared at him, an expression of perplexity coming into her face. + +"What gold dishes?" said she. + +"The ones your people used to own in Central America. Come on, Maria, +begin, begin." The Jew craned himself forward, his lean fingers clawing +eagerly at his lips. + +"What gold plate?" said Maria, frowning at him as she drank her whiskey. +"What gold plate? I don' know what you're talking about, Zerkow." + +Zerkow sat back in his chair, staring at her. + +"Why, your people's gold dishes, what they used to eat off of. You've +told me about it a hundred times." + +"You're crazy, Zerkow," said Maria. "Push the bottle here, will you?" + +"Come, now," insisted Zerkow, sweating with desire, "come, now, my girl, +don't be a fool; let's have it, let's have it. Begin now, 'There were +more'n a hundred pieces, and every one of 'em gold.' Oh, YOU know; come +on, come on." + +"I don't remember nothing of the kind," protested Maria, reaching for +the bottle. Zerkow snatched it from her. + +"You fool!" he wheezed, trying to raise his broken voice to a shout. +"You fool! Don't you dare try an' cheat ME, or I'll DO for you. You know +about the gold plate, and you know where it is." Suddenly he pitched his +voice at the prolonged rasping shout with which he made his street cry. +He rose to his feet, his long, prehensile fingers curled into fists. He +was menacing, terrible in his rage. He leaned over Maria, his fists in +her face. + +"I believe you've got it!" he yelled. "I believe you've got it, an' are +hiding it from me. Where is it, where is it? Is it here?" he rolled his +eyes wildly about the room. "Hey? hey?" he went on, shaking Maria by the +shoulders. "Where is it? Is it here? Tell me where it is. Tell me, or +I'll do for you!" + +"It ain't here," cried Maria, wrenching from him. "It ain't anywhere. +What gold plate? What are you talking about? I don't remember nothing +about no gold plate at all." + +No, Maria did not remember. The trouble and turmoil of her mind +consequent upon the birth of her child seemed to have readjusted her +disordered ideas upon this point. Her mania had come to a crisis, which +in subsiding had cleared her brain of its one illusion. She did not +remember. Or it was possible that the gold plate she had once remembered +had had some foundation in fact, that her recital of its splendors had +been truth, sound and sane. It was possible that now her FORGETFULNESS +of it was some form of brain trouble, a relic of the dementia of +childbirth. At all events Maria did not remember; the idea of the gold +plate had passed entirely out of her mind, and it was now Zerkow who +labored under its hallucination. It was now Zerkow, the raker of the +city's muck heap, the searcher after gold, that saw that wonderful +service in the eye of his perverted mind. It was he who could now +describe it in a language almost eloquent. Maria had been content merely +to remember it; but Zerkow's avarice goaded him to a belief that it was +still in existence, hid somewhere, perhaps in that very house, stowed +away there by Maria. For it stood to reason, didn't it, that Maria could +not have described it with such wonderful accuracy and such careful +detail unless she had seen it recently--the day before, perhaps, or that +very day, or that very hour, that very HOUR? + +"Look out for yourself," he whispered, hoarsely, to his wife. "Look out +for yourself, my girl. I'll hunt for it, and hunt for it, and hunt for +it, and some day I'll find it--I will, you'll see--I'll find it, I'll +find it; and if I don't, I'll find a way that'll make you tell me where +it is. I'll make you speak--believe me, I will, I will, my girl--trust +me for that." + +And at night Maria would sometimes wake to find Zerkow gone from the +bed, and would see him burrowing into some corner by the light of his +dark-lantern and would hear him mumbling to himself: "There were more'n +a hundred pieces, and every one of 'em gold--when the leather trunk was +opened it fair dazzled your eyes--why, just that punchbowl was worth a +fortune, I guess; solid, solid, heavy, rich, pure gold, nothun but gold, +gold, heaps and heaps of it--what a glory! I'll find it yet, I'll find +it. It's here somewheres, hid somewheres in this house." + +At length his continued ill success began to exasperate him. One day he +took his whip from his junk wagon and thrashed Maria with it, gasping +the while, "Where is it, you beast? Where is it? Tell me where it is; +I'll make you speak." + +"I don' know, I don' know," cried Maria, dodging his blows. "I'd tell +you, Zerkow, if I knew; but I don' know nothing about it. How can I tell +you if I don' know?" + +Then one evening matters reached a crisis. Marcus Schouler was in his +room, the room in the flat just over McTeague's "Parlors" which he had +always occupied. It was between eleven and twelve o'clock. The vast +house was quiet; Polk Street outside was very still, except for the +occasional whirr and trundle of a passing cable car and the persistent +calling of ducks and geese in the deserted market directly opposite. +Marcus was in his shirt sleeves, perspiring and swearing with exertion +as he tried to get all his belongings into an absurdly inadequate trunk. +The room was in great confusion. It looked as though Marcus was about +to move. He stood in front of his trunk, his precious silk hat in its +hat-box in his hand. He was raging at the perverseness of a pair of +boots that refused to fit in his trunk, no matter how he arranged them. + +"I've tried you SO, and I've tried you SO," he exclaimed fiercely, +between his teeth, "and you won't go." He began to swear horribly, +grabbing at the boots with his free hand. "Pretty soon I won't take you +at all; I won't, for a fact." + +He was interrupted by a rush of feet upon the back stairs and a +clamorous pounding upon his door. He opened it to let in Maria Macapa, +her hair dishevelled and her eyes starting with terror. + +"Oh, MISTER Schouler," she gasped, "lock the door quick. Don't let him +get me. He's got a knife, and he says sure he's going to do for me, if I +don't tell him where it is." + +"Who has? What has? Where is what?" shouted Marcus, flaming with +excitement upon the instant. He opened the door and peered down the dark +hall, both fists clenched, ready to fight--he did not know whom, and he +did not know why. + +"It's Zerkow," wailed Maria, pulling him back into the room and bolting +the door, "and he's got a knife as long as THAT. Oh, my Lord, here he +comes now! Ain't that him? Listen." + +Zerkow was coming up the stairs, calling for Maria. + +"Don't you let him get me, will you, Mister Schouler?" gasped Maria. + +"I'll break him in two," shouted Marcus, livid with rage. "Think I'm +afraid of his knife?" + +"I know where you are," cried Zerkow, on the landing outside. "You're in +Schouler's room. What are you doing in Schouler's room at this time of +night? Come outa there; you oughta be ashamed. I'll do for you yet, my +girl. Come outa there once, an' see if I don't." + +"I'll do for you myself, you dirty Jew," shouted Marcus, unbolting the +door and running out into the hall. + +"I want my wife," exclaimed the Jew, backing down the stairs. "What's +she mean by running away from me and going into your room?" + +"Look out, he's got a knife!" cried Maria through the crack of the door. + +"Ah, there you are. Come outa that, and come back home," exclaimed +Zerkow. + +"Get outa here yourself," cried Marcus, advancing on him angrily. "Get +outa here." + +"Maria's gota come too." + +"Get outa here," vociferated Marcus, "an' put up that knife. I see it; +you needn't try an' hide it behind your leg. Give it to me, anyhow," he +shouted suddenly, and before Zerkow was aware, Marcus had wrenched it +away. "Now, get outa here." + +Zerkow backed away, peering and peeping over Marcus's shoulder. + +"I want Maria." + +"Get outa here. Get along out, or I'll PUT you out." The street door +closed. The Jew was gone. + +"Huh!" snorted Marcus, swelling with arrogance. "Huh! Think I'm afraid +of his knife? I ain't afraid of ANYBODY," he shouted pointedly, for +McTeague and his wife, roused by the clamor, were peering over the +banisters from the landing above. "Not of anybody," repeated Marcus. + +Maria came out into the hall. + +"Is he gone? Is he sure gone?" + +"What was the trouble?" inquired Marcus, suddenly. + +"I woke up about an hour ago," Maria explained, "and Zerkow wasn't in +bed; maybe he hadn't come to bed at all. He was down on his knees by the +sink, and he'd pried up some boards off the floor and was digging there. +He had his dark-lantern. He was digging with that knife, I guess, and +all the time he kept mumbling to himself, 'More'n a hundred pieces, an' +every one of 'em gold; more'n a hundred pieces, an' every one of 'em +gold.' Then, all of a sudden, he caught sight of me. I was sitting up in +bed, and he jumped up and came at me with his knife, an' he says, 'Where +is it? Where is it? I know you got it hid somewhere. Where is it? Tell +me or I'll knife you.' I kind of fooled him and kept him off till I got +my wrapper on, an' then I run out. I didn't dare stay." + +"Well, what did you tell him about your gold dishes for in the first +place?" cried Marcus. + +"I never told him," protested Maria, with the greatest energy. "I never +told him; I never heard of any gold dishes. I don' know where he got the +idea; he must be crazy." + +By this time Trina and McTeague, Old Grannis, and little Miss Baker--all +the lodgers on the upper floors of the flat--had gathered about Maria. +Trina and the dentist, who had gone to bed, were partially dressed, and +Trina's enormous mane of black hair was hanging in two thick braids +far down her back. But, late as it was, Old Grannis and the retired +dressmaker had still been up and about when Maria had aroused them. + +"Why, Maria," said Trina, "you always used to tell us about your gold +dishes. You said your folks used to have them." + +"Never, never, never!" exclaimed Maria, vehemently. "You folks must all +be crazy. I never HEARD of any gold dishes." + +"Well," spoke up Miss Baker, "you're a queer girl, Maria; that's all +I can say." She left the group and returned to her room. Old Grannis +watched her go from the corner of his eye, and in a few moments followed +her, leaving the group as unnoticed as he had joined it. By degrees the +flat quieted down again. Trina and McTeague returned to their rooms. + +"I guess I'll go back now," said Maria. "He's all right now. I ain't +afraid of him so long as he ain't got his knife." + +"Well, say," Marcus called to her as she went down stairs, "if he gets +funny again, you just yell out; I'LL hear you. I won't let him hurt +you." + +Marcus went into his room again and resumed his wrangle with the +refractory boots. His eye fell on Zerkow's knife, a long, keen-bladed +hunting-knife, with a buckhorn handle. "I'll take you along with me," he +exclaimed, suddenly. "I'll just need you where I'm going." + +Meanwhile, old Miss Baker was making tea to calm her nerves after the +excitement of Maria's incursion. This evening she went so far as to +make tea for two, laying an extra place on the other side of her little +tea-table, setting out a cup and saucer and one of the Gorham silver +spoons. Close upon the other side of the partition Old Grannis bound +uncut numbers of the "Nation." + +"Do you know what I think, Mac?" said Trina, when the couple had +returned to their rooms. "I think Marcus is going away." + +"What? What?" muttered the dentist, very sleepy and stupid, "what you +saying? What's that about Marcus?" + +"I believe Marcus has been packing up, the last two or three days. I +wonder if he's going away." + +"Who's going away?" said McTeague, blinking at her. + +"Oh, go to bed," said Trina, pushing him goodnaturedly. "Mac, you're the +stupidest man I ever knew." + +But it was true. Marcus was going away. Trina received a letter the next +morning from her mother. The carpet-cleaning and upholstery business in +which Mr. Sieppe had involved himself was going from bad to worse. Mr. +Sieppe had even been obliged to put a mortgage upon their house. Mrs. +Sieppe didn't know what was to become of them all. Her husband had even +begun to talk of emigrating to New Zealand. Meanwhile, she informed +Trina that Mr. Sieppe had finally come across a man with whom Marcus +could "go in with on a ranch," a cattle ranch in the southeastern +portion of the State. Her ideas were vague upon the subject, but she +knew that Marcus was wildly enthusiastic at the prospect, and was +expected down before the end of the month. In the meantime, could Trina +send them fifty dollars? + +"Marcus IS going away, after all, Mac," said Trina to her husband +that day as he came out of his "Parlors" and sat down to the lunch of +sausages, mashed potatoes, and chocolate in the sitting-room. + +"Huh?" said the dentist, a little confused. "Who's going away? Schouler +going away? Why's Schouler going away?" + +Trina explained. "Oh!" growled McTeague, behind his thick mustache, "he +can go far before I'LL stop him." + +"And, say, Mac," continued Trina, pouring the chocolate, "what do you +think? Mamma wants me--wants us to send her fifty dollars. She says +they're hard up." + +"Well," said the dentist, after a moment, "well, I guess we can send it, +can't we?" + +"Oh, that's easy to say," complained Trina, her little chin in the +air, her small pale lips pursed. "I wonder if mamma thinks we're +millionaires?" + +"Trina, you're getting to be regular stingy," muttered McTeague. "You're +getting worse and worse every day." + +"But fifty dollars is fifty dollars, Mac. Just think how long it takes +you to earn fifty dollars. Fifty dollars! That's two months of our +interest." + +"Well," said McTeague, easily, his mouth full of mashed potato, "you got +a lot saved up." + +Upon every reference to that little hoard in the brass match-safe +and chamois-skin bag at the bottom of her trunk, Trina bridled on the +instant. + +"Don't TALK that way, Mac. 'A lot of money.' What do you call a lot of +money? I don't believe I've got fifty dollars saved." + +"Hoh!" exclaimed McTeague. "Hoh! I guess you got nearer a hundred AN' +fifty. That's what I guess YOU got." + +"I've NOT, I've NOT," declared Trina, "and you know I've not. I wish +mamma hadn't asked me for any money. Why can't she be a little more +economical? I manage all right. No, no, I can't possibly afford to send +her fifty." + +"Oh, pshaw! What WILL you do, then?" grumbled her husband. + +"I'll send her twenty-five this month, and tell her I'll send the rest +as soon as I can afford it." + +"Trina, you're a regular little miser," said McTeague. + +"I don't care," answered Trina, beginning to laugh. "I guess I am, but I +can't help it, and it's a good fault." + +Trina put off sending this money for a couple of weeks, and her mother +made no mention of it in her next letter. "Oh, I guess if she wants +it so bad," said Trina, "she'll speak about it again." So she again +postponed the sending of it. Day by day she put it off. When her mother +asked her for it a second time, it seemed harder than ever for Trina to +part with even half the sum requested. She answered her mother, telling +her that they were very hard up themselves for that month, but that she +would send down the amount in a few weeks. + +"I'll tell you what we'll do, Mac," she said to her husband, "you send +half and I'll send half; we'll send twenty-five dollars altogether. +Twelve and a half apiece. That's an idea. How will that do?" + +"Sure, sure," McTeague had answered, giving her the money. Trina sent +McTeague's twelve dollars, but never sent the twelve that was to be her +share. One day the dentist happened to ask her about it. + +"You sent that twenty-five to your mother, didn't you?" said he. + +"Oh, long ago," answered Trina, without thinking. + +In fact, Trina never allowed herself to think very much of this affair. +And, in fact, another matter soon came to engross her attention. + +One Sunday evening Trina and her husband were in their sitting-room +together. It was dark, but the lamp had not been lit. McTeague had +brought up some bottles of beer from the "Wein Stube" on the ground +floor, where the branch post-office used to be. But they had not +opened the beer. It was a warm evening in summer. Trina was sitting on +McTeague's lap in the bay window, and had looped back the Nottingham +curtains so the two could look out into the darkened street and watch +the moon coming up over the glass roof of the huge public baths. On +occasions they sat like this for an hour or so, "philandering," Trina +cuddling herself down upon McTeague's enormous body, rubbing her cheek +against the grain of his unshaven chin, kissing the bald spot on the top +of his head, or putting her fingers into his ears and eyes. At times, +a brusque access of passion would seize upon her, and, with a nervous +little sigh, she would clasp his thick red neck in both her small arms +and whisper in his ear: + +"Do you love me, Mac, dear? Love me BIG, BIG? Sure, do you love me as +much as you did when we were married?" + +Puzzled, McTeague would answer: "Well, you know it, don't you, Trina?" + +"But I want you to SAY so; say so always and always." + +"Well, I do, of course I do." + +"Say it, then." + +"Well, then, I love you." + +"But you don't say it of your own accord." + +"Well, what--what--what--I don't understand," stammered the dentist, +bewildered. + +There was a knock on the door. Confused and embarrassed, as if they were +not married, Trina scrambled off McTeague's lap, hastening to light the +lamp, whispering, "Put on your coat, Mac, and smooth your hair," and +making gestures for him to put the beer bottles out of sight. She opened +the door and uttered an exclamation. + +"Why, Cousin Mark!" she said. McTeague glared at him, struck speechless, +confused beyond expression. Marcus Schouler, perfectly at his ease, +stood in the doorway, smiling with great affability. + +"Say," he remarked, "can I come in?" + +Taken all aback, Trina could only answer: + +"Why--I suppose so. Yes, of course--come in." + +"Yes, yes, come in," exclaimed the dentist, suddenly, speaking without +thought. "Have some beer?" he added, struck with an idea. + +"No, thanks, Doctor," said Marcus, pleasantly. + +McTeague and Trina were puzzled. What could it all mean? Did Marcus +want to become reconciled to his enemy? "I know." Trina said to herself. +"He's going away, and he wants to borrow some money. He won't get a +penny, not a penny." She set her teeth together hard. + +"Well," said Marcus, "how's business, Doctor?" + +"Oh," said McTeague, uneasily, "oh, I don' know. I guess--I guess," +he broke off in helpless embarrassment. They had all sat down by now. +Marcus continued, holding his hat and his cane--the black wand of ebony +with the gold top presented to him by the "Improvement Club." + +"Ah!" said he, wagging his head and looking about the sitting-room, "you +people have got the best fixed rooms in the whole flat. Yes, sir; you +have, for a fact." He glanced from the lithograph framed in gilt and red +plush--the two little girls at their prayers--to the "I'm Grandpa" +and "I'm Grandma" pictures, noted the clean white matting and the gay +worsted tidies over the chair backs, and appeared to contemplate in +ecstasy the framed photograph of McTeague and Trina in their wedding +finery. + +"Well, you two are pretty happy together, ain't you?" said he, smiling +good-humoredly. + +"Oh, we don't complain," answered Trina. + +"Plenty of money, lots to do, everything fine, hey?" + +"We've got lots to do," returned Trina, thinking to head him off, "but +we've not got lots of money." + +But evidently Marcus wanted no money. + +"Well, Cousin Trina," he said, rubbing his knee, "I'm going away." + +"Yes, mamma wrote me; you're going on a ranch." + +"I'm going in ranching with an English duck," corrected Marcus. "Mr. +Sieppe has fixed things. We'll see if we can't raise some cattle. I know +a lot about horses, and he's ranched some before--this English duck. And +then I'm going to keep my eye open for a political chance down there. I +got some introductions from the President of the Improvement Club. I'll +work things somehow, oh, sure." + +"How long you going to be gone?" asked Trina. + +Marcus stared. + +"Why, I ain't EVER coming back," he vociferated. "I'm going to-morrow, +and I'm going for good. I come to say good-by." + +Marcus stayed for upwards of an hour that evening. He talked on easily +and agreeably, addressing himself as much to McTeague as to Trina. At +last he rose. + +"Well, good-by, Doc." + +"Good-by, Marcus," returned McTeague. The two shook hands. + +"Guess we won't ever see each other again," continued Marcus. "But good +luck to you, Doc. Hope some day you'll have the patients standing in +line on the stairs." + +"Huh! I guess so, I guess so," said the dentist. + +"Good-by, Cousin Trina." + +"Good-by, Marcus," answered Trina. "You be sure to remember me to mamma, +and papa, and everybody. I'm going to make two great big sets of Noah's +ark animals for the twins on their next birthday; August is too old +for toys. But you can tell the twins that I'll make them some great big +animals. Good-by, success to you, Marcus." + +"Good-by, good-by. Good luck to you both." + +"Good-by, Cousin Mark." + +"Good-by, Marcus." + +He was gone. + + + +CHAPTER 13 + + +One morning about a week after Marcus had left for the southern part +of the State, McTeague found an oblong letter thrust through the +letter-drop of the door of his "Parlors." The address was typewritten. +He opened it. The letter had been sent from the City Hall and was +stamped in one corner with the seal of the State of California, very +official; the form and file numbers superscribed. + +McTeague had been making fillings when this letter arrived. He was in +his "Parlors," pottering over his movable rack underneath the bird cage +in the bay window. He was making "blocks" to be used in large proximal +cavities and "cylinders" for commencing fillings. He heard the postman's +step in the hall and saw the envelopes begin to shuttle themselves +through the slit of his letter-drop. Then came the fat oblong envelope, +with its official seal, that dropped flatwise to the floor with a +sodden, dull impact. + +The dentist put down the broach and scissors and gathered up his mail. +There were four letters altogether. One was for Trina, in Selina's +"elegant" handwriting; another was an advertisement of a new kind of +operating chair for dentists; the third was a card from a milliner on +the next block, announcing an opening; and the fourth, contained in the +fat oblong envelope, was a printed form with blanks left for names +and dates, and addressed to McTeague, from an office in the City Hall. +McTeague read it through laboriously. "I don' know, I don' know," he +muttered, looking stupidly at the rifle manufacturer's calendar. Then +he heard Trina, from the kitchen, singing as she made a clattering +noise with the breakfast dishes. "I guess I'll ask Trina about it," he +muttered. + +He went through the suite, by the sitting-room, where the sun was +pouring in through the looped backed Nottingham curtains upon the clean +white matting and the varnished surface of the melodeon, passed on +through the bedroom, with its framed lithographs of round-cheeked +English babies and alert fox terriers, and came out into the brick-paved +kitchen. The kitchen was clean as a new whistle; the freshly blackened +cook stove glowed like a negro's hide; the tins and porcelain-lined +stew-pans might have been of silver and of ivory. Trina was in the +centre of the room, wiping off, with a damp sponge, the oilcloth +table-cover, on which they had breakfasted. Never had she looked so +pretty. Early though it was, her enormous tiara of swarthy hair was +neatly combed and coiled, not a pin was so much as loose. She wore a +blue calico skirt with a white figure, and a belt of imitation alligator +skin clasped around her small, firmly-corseted waist; her shirt +waist was of pink linen, so new and crisp that it crackled with every +movement, while around the collar, tied in a neat knot, was one of +McTeague's lawn ties which she had appropriated. Her sleeves were +carefully rolled up almost to her shoulders, and nothing could have been +more delicious than the sight of her small round arms, white as milk, +moving back and forth as she sponged the table-cover, a faint touch of +pink coming and going at the elbows as they bent and straightened. She +looked up quickly as her husband entered, her narrow eyes alight, her +adorable little chin in the air; her lips rounded and opened with the +last words of her song, so that one could catch a glint of gold in the +fillings of her upper teeth. + +The whole scene--the clean kitchen and its clean brick floor; the smell +of coffee that lingered in the air; Trina herself, fresh as if from +a bath, and singing at her work; the morning sun, striking obliquely +through the white muslin half-curtain of the window and spanning the +little kitchen with a bridge of golden mist--gave off, as it were, a +note of gayety that was not to be resisted. Through the opened top of +the window came the noises of Polk Street, already long awake. One heard +the chanting of street cries, the shrill calling of children on their +way to school, the merry rattle of a butcher's cart, the brisk noise +of hammering, or the occasional prolonged roll of a cable car trundling +heavily past, with a vibrant whirring of its jostled glass and the +joyous clanging of its bells. + +"What is it, Mac, dear?" said Trina. + +McTeague shut the door behind him with his heel and handed her the +letter. Trina read it through. Then suddenly her small hand gripped +tightly upon the sponge, so that the water started from it and dripped +in a little pattering deluge upon the bricks. + +The letter--or rather printed notice--informed McTeague that he had +never received a diploma from a dental college, and that in consequence +he was forbidden to practise his profession any longer. A legal extract +bearing upon the case was attached in small type. + +"Why, what's all this?" said Trina, calmly, without thought as yet. + +"I don' know, I don' know," answered her husband. + +"You can't practise any longer," continued Trina,--"'is herewith +prohibited and enjoined from further continuing----'" She re-read +the extract, her forehead lifting and puckering. She put the sponge +carefully away in its wire rack over the sink, and drew up a chair to +the table, spreading out the notice before her. "Sit down," she said to +McTeague. "Draw up to the table here, Mac, and let's see what this is." + +"I got it this morning," murmured the dentist. "It just now came. I was +making some fillings--there, in the 'Parlors,' in the window--and the +postman shoved it through the door. I thought it was a number of the +'American System of Dentistry' at first, and when I'd opened it and +looked at it I thought I'd better----" + +"Say, Mac," interrupted Trina, looking up from the notice, "DIDN'T you +ever go to a dental college?" + +"Huh? What? What?" exclaimed McTeague. + +"How did you learn to be a dentist? Did you go to a college?" + +"I went along with a fellow who came to the mine once. My mother sent +me. We used to go from one camp to another. I sharpened his excavators +for him, and put up his notices in the towns--stuck them up in the +post-offices and on the doors of the Odd Fellows' halls. He had a +wagon." + +"But didn't you never go to a college?" + +"Huh? What? College? No, I never went. I learned from the fellow." + +Trina rolled down her sleeves. She was a little paler than usual. She +fastened the buttons into the cuffs and said: + +"But do you know you can't practise unless you're graduated from a +college? You haven't the right to call yourself, 'doctor.'" + +McTeague stared a moment; then: + +"Why, I've been practising ten years. More--nearly twelve." + +"But it's the law." + +"What's the law?" + +"That you can't practise, or call yourself doctor, unless you've got a +diploma." + +"What's that--a diploma?" + +"I don't know exactly. It's a kind of paper that--that--oh, Mac, we're +ruined." Trina's voice rose to a cry. + +"What do you mean, Trina? Ain't I a dentist? Ain't I a doctor? Look +at my sign, and the gold tooth you gave me. Why, I've been practising +nearly twelve years." + +Trina shut her lips tightly, cleared her throat, and pretended to +resettle a hair-pin at the back of her head. + +"I guess it isn't as bad as that," she said, very quietly. "Let's +read this again. 'Herewith prohibited and enjoined from further +continuing----'" She read to the end. + +"Why, it isn't possible," she cried. "They can't mean--oh, Mac, I do +believe--pshaw!" she exclaimed, her pale face flushing. "They don't +know how good a dentist you are. What difference does a diploma make, if +you're a first-class dentist? I guess that's all right. Mac, didn't you +ever go to a dental college?" + +"No," answered McTeague, doggedly. "What was the good? I learned how to +operate; wa'n't that enough?" + +"Hark," said Trina, suddenly. "Wasn't that the bell of your office?" +They had both heard the jangling of the bell that McTeague had hung over +the door of his "Parlors." The dentist looked at the kitchen clock. + +"That's Vanovitch," said he. "He's a plumber round on Sutter Street. +He's got an appointment with me to have a bicuspid pulled. I got to go +back to work." He rose. + +"But you can't," cried Trina, the back of her hand upon her lips, her +eyes brimming. "Mac, don't you see? Can't you understand? You've got to +stop. Oh, it's dreadful! Listen." She hurried around the table to him +and caught his arm in both her hands. + +"Huh?" growled McTeague, looking at her with a puzzled frown. + +"They'll arrest you. You'll go to prison. You can't work--can't work any +more. We're ruined." + +Vanovitch was pounding on the door of the sitting-room. + +"He'll be gone in a minute," exclaimed McTeague. + +"Well, let him go. Tell him to go; tell him to come again." + +"Why, he's got an APPOINTMENT with me," exclaimed McTeague, his hand +upon the door. + +Trina caught him back. "But, Mac, you ain't a dentist any longer; you +ain't a doctor. You haven't the right to work. You never went to a +dental college." + +"Well, suppose I never went to a college, ain't I a dentist just the +same? Listen, he's pounding there again. No, I'm going, sure." + +"Well, of course, go," said Trina, with sudden reaction. "It ain't +possible they'll make you stop. If you're a good dentist, that's all +that's wanted. Go on, Mac; hurry, before he goes." + +McTeague went out, closing the door. Trina stood for a moment looking +intently at the bricks at her feet. Then she returned to the table, +and sat down again before the notice, and, resting her head in both her +fists, read it yet another time. Suddenly the conviction seized upon her +that it was all true. McTeague would be obliged to stop work, no matter +how good a dentist he was. But why had the authorities at the City Hall +waited this long before serving the notice? All at once Trina snapped +her fingers, with a quick flash of intelligence. + +"It's Marcus that's done it," she cried. + +* * * * * + +It was like a clap of thunder. McTeague was stunned, stupefied. He said +nothing. Never in his life had he been so taciturn. At times he did not +seem to hear Trina when she spoke to him, and often she had to shake +him by the shoulder to arouse his attention. He would sit apart in his +"Parlors," turning the notice about in his enormous clumsy fingers, +reading it stupidly over and over again. He couldn't understand. What +had a clerk at the City Hall to do with him? Why couldn't they let him +alone? + +"Oh, what's to become of us NOW?" wailed Trina. "What's to become of us +now? We're paupers, beggars--and all so sudden." And once, in a quick, +inexplicable fury, totally unlike anything that McTeague had noticed in +her before, she had started up, with fists and teeth shut tight, and +had cried, "Oh, if you'd only KILLED Marcus Schouler that time he fought +you!" + +McTeague had continued his work, acting from sheer force of habit; his +sluggish, deliberate nature, methodical, obstinate, refusing to adapt +itself to the new conditions. + +"Maybe Marcus was only trying to scare us," Trina had said. "How are +they going to know whether you're practising or not?" + +"I got a mould to make to-morrow," McTeague said, "and Vanovitch, that +plumber round on Sutter Street, he's coming again at three." + +"Well, you go right ahead," Trina told him, decisively; "you go right +ahead and make the mould, and pull every tooth in Vanovitch's head if +you want to. Who's going to know? Maybe they just sent that notice as a +matter of form. Maybe Marcus got that paper and filled it in himself." + +The two would lie awake all night long, staring up into the dark, +talking, talking, talking. + +"Haven't you got any right to practise if you've not been to a dental +college, Mac? Didn't you ever go?" Trina would ask again and again. + +"No, no," answered the dentist, "I never went. I learnt from the fellow +I was apprenticed to. I don' know anything about a dental college. Ain't +I got a right to do as I like?" he suddenly exclaimed. + +"If you know your profession, isn't that enough?" cried Trina. + +"Sure, sure," growled McTeague. "I ain't going to stop for them." + +"You go right on," Trina said, "and I bet you won't hear another word +about it." + +"Suppose I go round to the City Hall and see them," hazarded McTeague. + +"No, no, don't you do it, Mac," exclaimed Trina. "Because, if Marcus has +done this just to scare you, they won't know anything about it there at +the City Hall; but they'll begin to ask you questions, and find out that +you never HAD graduated from a dental college, and you'd be just as bad +off as ever." + +"Well, I ain't going to quit for just a piece of paper," declared the +dentist. The phrase stuck to him. All day long he went about their rooms +or continued at his work in the "Parlors," growling behind his thick +mustache: "I ain't going to quit for just a piece of paper. No, I ain't +going to quit for just a piece of paper. Sure not." + +The days passed, a week went by, McTeague continued his work as usual. +They heard no more from the City Hall, but the suspense of the situation +was harrowing. Trina was actually sick with it. The terror of the thing +was ever at their elbows, going to bed with them, sitting down with them +at breakfast in the kitchen, keeping them company all through the day. +Trina dared not think of what would be their fate if the income derived +from McTeague's practice was suddenly taken from them. Then they would +have to fall back on the interest of her lottery money and the pittance +she derived from the manufacture of the Noah's ark animals, a little +over thirty dollars a month. No, no, it was not to be thought of. It +could not be that their means of livelihood was to be thus stricken from +them. + +A fortnight went by. "I guess we're all right, Mac," Trina allowed +herself to say. "It looks as though we were all right. How are they +going to tell whether you're practising or not?" + +That day a second and much more peremptory notice was served upon +McTeague by an official in person. Then suddenly Trina was seized with a +panic terror, unreasoned, instinctive. If McTeague persisted they would +both be sent to a prison, she was sure of it; a place where people were +chained to the wall, in the dark, and fed on bread and water. + +"Oh, Mac, you've got to quit," she wailed. "You can't go on. They can +make you stop. Oh, why didn't you go to a dental college? Why didn't you +find out that you had to have a college degree? And now we're paupers, +beggars. We've got to leave here--leave this flat where I've been--where +WE'VE been so happy, and sell all the pretty things; sell the pictures +and the melodeon, and--Oh, it's too dreadful!" + +"Huh? Huh? What? What?" exclaimed the dentist, bewildered. "I ain't +going to quit for just a piece of paper. Let them put me out. I'll show +them. They--they can't make small of me." + +"Oh, that's all very fine to talk that way, but you'll have to quit." + +"Well, we ain't paupers," McTeague suddenly exclaimed, an idea entering +his mind. "We've got our money yet. You've got your five thousand +dollars and the money you've been saving up. People ain't paupers when +they've got over five thousand dollars." + +"What do you mean, Mac?" cried Trina, apprehensively. + +"Well, we can live on THAT money until--until--until--" he broke off +with an uncertain movement of his shoulders, looking about him stupidly. + +"Until WHEN?" cried Trina. "There ain't ever going to be any 'until.' +We've got the INTEREST of that five thousand and we've got what Uncle +Oelbermann gives me, a little over thirty dollars a month, and that's +all we've got. You'll have to find something else to do." + +"What will I find to do?" + +What, indeed? McTeague was over thirty now, sluggish and slow-witted at +best. What new trade could he learn at this age? + +Little by little Trina made the dentist understand the calamity that had +befallen them, and McTeague at last began cancelling his appointments. +Trina gave it out that he was sick. + +"Not a soul need know what's happened to us," she said to her husband. + +But it was only by slow degrees that McTeague abandoned his profession. +Every morning after breakfast he would go into his "Parlors" as usual +and potter about his instruments, his dental engine, and his washstand +in the corner behind his screen where he made his moulds. Now he would +sharpen a "hoe" excavator, now he would busy himself for a whole hour +making "mats" and "cylinders." Then he would look over his slate where +he kept a record of his appointments. + +One day Trina softly opened the door of the "Parlors" and came in from +the sitting-room. She had not heard McTeague moving about for some time +and had begun to wonder what he was doing. She came in, quietly shutting +the door behind her. + +McTeague had tidied the room with the greatest care. The volumes of the +"Practical Dentist" and the "American System of Dentistry" were piled +upon the marble-top centre-table in rectangular blocks. The few chairs +were drawn up against the wall under the steel engraving of "Lorenzo +de' Medici" with more than usual precision. The dental engine and the +nickelled trimmings of the operating chair had been furbished till they +shone, while on the movable rack in the bay window McTeague had arranged +his instruments with the greatest neatness and regularity. "Hoe" +excavators, pluggers, forceps, pliers, corundum disks and burrs, even +the boxwood mallet that Trina was never to use again, all were laid out +and ready for immediate use. + +McTeague himself sat in his operating chair, looking stupidly out of the +windows, across the roofs opposite, with an unseeing gaze, his red hands +lying idly in his lap. Trina came up to him. There was something in his +eyes that made her put both arms around his neck and lay his huge head +with its coarse blond hair upon her shoulder. + +"I--I got everything fixed," he said. "I got everything fixed an' ready. +See, everything ready an' waiting, an'--an'--an' nobody comes, an' +nobody's ever going to come any more. Oh, Trina!" He put his arms about +her and drew her down closer to him. + +"Never mind, dear; never mind," cried Trina, through her tears. "It'll +all come right in the end, and we'll be poor together if we have to. You +can sure find something else to do. We'll start in again." + +"Look at the slate there," said McTeague, pulling away from her and +reaching down the slate on which he kept a record of his appointments. +"Look at them. There's Vanovitch at two on Wednesday, and Loughhead's +wife Thursday morning, and Heise's little girl Thursday afternoon at +one-thirty; Mrs. Watson on Friday, and Vanovitch again Saturday morning +early--at seven. That's what I was to have had, and they ain't going to +come. They ain't ever going to come any more." + +Trina took the little slate from him and looked at it ruefully. + +"Rub them out," she said, her voice trembling; "rub it all out;" and as +she spoke her eyes brimmed again, and a great tear dropped on the slate. +"That's it," she said; "that's the way to rub it out, by me crying +on it." Then she passed her fingers over the tear-blurred writing and +washed the slate clean. "All gone, all gone," she said. + +"All gone," echoed the dentist. There was a silence. Then McTeague +heaved himself up to his full six feet two, his face purpling, his +enormous mallet-like fists raised over his head. His massive jaw +protruded more than ever, while his teeth clicked and grated together; +then he growled: + +"If ever I meet Marcus Schouler--" he broke off abruptly, the white of +his eyes growing suddenly pink. + +"Oh, if ever you DO," exclaimed Trina, catching her breath. + + + +CHAPTER 14 + + +"Well, what do you think?" said Trina. + +She and McTeague stood in a tiny room at the back of the flat and on +its very top floor. The room was whitewashed. It contained a bed, +three cane-seated chairs, and a wooden washstand with its washbowl and +pitcher. From its single uncurtained window one looked down into the +flat's dirty back yard and upon the roofs of the hovels that bordered +the alley in the rear. There was a rag carpet on the floor. In place +of a closet some dozen wooden pegs were affixed to the wall over the +washstand. There was a smell of cheap soap and of ancient hair-oil in +the air. + +"That's a single bed," said Trina, "but the landlady says she'll put in +a double one for us. You see----" + +"I ain't going to live here," growled McTeague. + +"Well, you've got to live somewhere," said Trina, impatiently. "We've +looked Polk Street over, and this is the only thing we can afford." + +"Afford, afford," muttered the dentist. "You with your five thousand +dollars, and the two or three hundred you got saved up, talking about +'afford.' You make me sick." + +"Now, Mac," exclaimed Trina, deliberately, sitting down in one of the +cane-seated chairs; "now, Mac, let's have this thing----" + +"Well, I don't figure on living in one room," growled the dentist, +sullenly. "Let's live decently until we can get a fresh start. We've got +the money." + +"Who's got the money?" + +"WE'VE got it." + +"We!" + +"Well, it's all in the family. What's yours is mine, and what's mine is +yours, ain't it?" + +"No, it's not; no, it's not," cried Trina, vehemently. "It's all mine, +mine. There's not a penny of it belongs to anybody else. I don't like to +have to talk this way to you, but you just make me. We're not going to +touch a penny of my five thousand nor a penny of that little money I +managed to save--that seventy-five." + +"That TWO hundred, you mean." + +"That SEVENTY-FIVE. We're just going to live on the interest of that +and on what I earn from Uncle Oelbermann--on just that thirty-one or two +dollars." + +"Huh! Think I'm going to do that, an' live in such a room as this?" + +Trina folded her arms and looked him squarely in the face. + +"Well, what ARE you going to do, then?" + +"Huh?" + +"I say, what ARE you going to do? You can go on and find something to do +and earn some more money, and THEN we'll talk." + +"Well, I ain't going to live here." + +"Oh, very well, suit yourself. I'M going to live here." + +"You'll live where I TELL you," the dentist suddenly cried, exasperated +at the mincing tone she affected. + +"Then YOU'LL pay the rent," exclaimed Trina, quite as angry as he. + +"Are you my boss, I'd like to know? Who's the boss, you or I?" + +"Who's got the MONEY, I'd like to know?" cried Trina, flushing to her +pale lips. "Answer me that, McTeague, who's got the money?" + +"You make me sick, you and your money. Why, you're a miser. I never saw +anything like it. When I was practising, I never thought of my fees as +my own; we lumped everything in together." + +"Exactly; and I'M doing the working now. I'm working for Uncle +Oelbermann, and you're not lumping in ANYTHING now. I'm doing it all. Do +you know what I'm doing, McTeague? I'm supporting you." + +"Ah, shut up; you make me sick." + +"You got no RIGHT to talk to me that way. I won't let you. I--I won't +have it." She caught her breath. Tears were in her eyes. + +"Oh, live where you like, then," said McTeague, sullenly. + +"Well, shall we take this room then?" + +"All right, we'll take it. But why can't you take a little of your money +an'--an'--sort of fix it up?" + +"Not a penny, not a single penny." + +"Oh, I don't care WHAT you do." And for the rest of the day the dentist +and his wife did not speak. + +This was not the only quarrel they had during these days when they were +occupied in moving from their suite and in looking for new quarters. +Every hour the question of money came up. Trina had become more +niggardly than ever since the loss of McTeague's practice. It was not +mere economy with her now. It was a panic terror lest a fraction of a +cent of her little savings should be touched; a passionate eagerness +to continue to save in spite of all that had happened. Trina could have +easily afforded better quarters than the single whitewashed room at the +top of the flat, but she made McTeague believe that it was impossible. + +"I can still save a little," she said to herself, after the room had +been engaged; "perhaps almost as much as ever. I'll have three hundred +dollars pretty soon, and Mac thinks it's only two hundred. It's almost +two hundred and fifty; and I'll get a good deal out of the sale." + +But this sale was a long agony. It lasted a week. Everything +went--everything but the few big pieces that went with the suite, and +that belonged to the photographer. The melodeon, the chairs, the black +walnut table before which they were married, the extension table in +the sitting-room, the kitchen table with its oilcloth cover, the framed +lithographs from the English illustrated papers, the very carpets on +the floors. But Trina's heart nearly broke when the kitchen utensils and +furnishings began to go. Every pot, every stewpan, every knife and fork, +was an old friend. How she had worked over them! How clean she had kept +them! What a pleasure it had been to invade that little brick-paved +kitchen every morning, and to wash up and put to rights after breakfast, +turning on the hot water at the sink, raking down the ashes in the +cook-stove, going and coming over the warm bricks, her head in the air, +singing at her work, proud in the sense of her proprietorship and her +independence! How happy had she been the day after her marriage when she +had first entered that kitchen and knew that it was all her own! And +how well she remembered her raids upon the bargain counters in the +house-furnishing departments of the great down-town stores! And now it +was all to go. Some one else would have it all, while she was relegated +to cheap restaurants and meals cooked by hired servants. Night after +night she sobbed herself to sleep at the thought of her past happiness +and her present wretchedness. However, she was not alone in her +unhappiness. + +"Anyhow, I'm going to keep the steel engraving an' the stone pug dog," +declared the dentist, his fist clenching. When it had come to the +sale of his office effects McTeague had rebelled with the instinctive +obstinacy of a boy, shutting his eyes and ears. Only little by little +did Trina induce him to part with his office furniture. He fought +over every article, over the little iron stove, the bed-lounge, the +marble-topped centre table, the whatnot in the corner, the bound volumes +of "Allen's Practical Dentist," the rifle manufacturer's calendar, and +the prim, military chairs. A veritable scene took place between him and +his wife before he could bring himself to part with the steel engraving +of "Lorenzo de' Medici and His Court" and the stone pug dog with its +goggle eyes. + +"Why," he would cry, "I've had 'em ever since--ever since I BEGAN; long +before I knew you, Trina. That steel engraving I bought in Sacramento +one day when it was raining. I saw it in the window of a second-hand +store, and a fellow GAVE me that stone pug dog. He was a druggist. It +was in Sacramento too. We traded. I gave him a shaving-mug and a razor, +and he gave me the pug dog." + +There were, however, two of his belongings that even Trina could not +induce him to part with. + +"And your concertina, Mac," she prompted, as they were making out the +list for the second-hand dealer. "The concertina, and--oh, yes, the +canary and the bird cage." + +"No." + +"Mac, you MUST be reasonable. The concertina would bring quite a +sum, and the bird cage is as good as new. I'll sell the canary to the +bird-store man on Kearney Street." + +"No." + +"If you're going to make objections to every single thing, we might as +well quit. Come, now, Mac, the concertina and the bird cage. We'll put +them in Lot D." + +"No." + +"You'll have to come to it sooner or later. I'M giving up everything. +I'm going to put them down, see." + +"No." + +And she could get no further than that. The dentist did not lose his +temper, as in the case of the steel engraving or the stone pug dog; +he simply opposed her entreaties and persuasions with a passive, inert +obstinacy that nothing could move. In the end Trina was obliged to +submit. McTeague kept his concertina and his canary, even going so far +as to put them both away in the bedroom, attaching to them tags on which +he had scrawled in immense round letters, "Not for Sale." + +One evening during that same week the dentist and his wife were in the +dismantled sitting-room. The room presented the appearance of a wreck. +The Nottingham lace curtains were down. The extension table was heaped +high with dishes, with tea and coffee pots, and with baskets of spoons +and knives and forks. The melodeon was hauled out into the middle of the +floor, and covered with a sheet marked "Lot A," the pictures were in a +pile in a corner, the chenille portieres were folded on top of the black +walnut table. The room was desolate, lamentable. Trina was going over +the inventory; McTeague, in his shirt sleeves, was smoking his pipe, +looking stupidly out of the window. All at once there was a brisk +rapping at the door. + +"Come in," called Trina, apprehensively. Now-a-days at every unexpected +visit she anticipated a fresh calamity. The door opened to let in a +young man wearing a checked suit, a gay cravat, and a marvellously +figured waistcoat. Trina and McTeague recognized him at once. It was the +Other Dentist, the debonair fellow whose clients were the barbers and +the young women of the candy stores and soda-water fountains, the poser, +the wearer of waistcoats, who bet money on greyhound races. + +"How'do?" said this one, bowing gracefully to the McTeagues as they +stared at him distrustfully. + +"How'do? They tell me, Doctor, that you are going out of the +profession." + +McTeague muttered indistinctly behind his mustache and glowered at him. + +"Well, say," continued the other, cheerily, "I'd like to talk business +with you. That sign of yours, that big golden tooth that you got outside +of your window, I don't suppose you'll have any further use for it. +Maybe I'd buy it if we could agree on terms." + +Trina shot a glance at her husband. McTeague began to glower again. + +"What do you say?" said the Other Dentist. + +"I guess not," growled McTeague + +"What do you say to ten dollars?" + +"Ten dollars!" cried Trina, her chin in the air. + +"Well, what figure DO you put on it?" + +Trina was about to answer when she was interrupted by McTeague. + +"You go out of here." + +"Hey? What?" + +"You go out of here." + +The other retreated toward the door. + +"You can't make small of me. Go out of here." + +McTeague came forward a step, his great red fist clenching. The young +man fled. But half way down the stairs he paused long enough to call +back: + +"You don't want to trade anything for a diploma, do you?" + +McTeague and his wife exchanged looks. + +"How did he know?" exclaimed Trina, sharply. They had invented and +spread the fiction that McTeague was merely retiring from business, +without assigning any reason. But evidently every one knew the real +cause. The humiliation was complete now. Old Miss Baker confirmed their +suspicions on this point the next day. The little retired dressmaker +came down and wept with Trina over her misfortune, and did what +she could to encourage her. But she too knew that McTeague had been +forbidden by the authorities from practising. Marcus had evidently left +them no loophole of escape. + +"It's just like cutting off your husband's hands, my dear," said Miss +Baker. "And you two were so happy. When I first saw you together I said, +'What a pair!'" + +Old Grannis also called during this period of the breaking up of the +McTeague household. + +"Dreadful, dreadful," murmured the old Englishman, his hand going +tremulously to his chin. "It seems unjust; it does. But Mr. Schouler +could not have set them on to do it. I can't quite believe it of him." + +"Of Marcus!" cried Trina. "Hoh! Why, he threw his knife at Mac one time, +and another time he bit him, actually bit him with his teeth, while they +were wrestling just for fun. Marcus would do anything to injure Mac." + +"Dear, dear," returned Old Grannis, genuinely pained. "I had always +believed Schouler to be such a good fellow." + +"That's because you're so good yourself, Mr. Grannis," responded Trina. + +"I tell you what, Doc," declared Heise the harness-maker, shaking his +finger impressively at the dentist, "you must fight it; you must appeal +to the courts; you've been practising too long to be debarred now. The +statute of limitations, you know." + +"No, no," Trina had exclaimed, when the dentist had repeated this advice +to her. "No, no, don't go near the law courts. I know them. The lawyers +take all your money, and you lose your case. We're bad off as it is, +without lawing about it." + +Then at last came the sale. McTeague and Trina, whom Miss Baker had +invited to her room for that day, sat there side by side, holding each +other's hands, listening nervously to the turmoil that rose to them from +the direction of their suite. From nine o'clock till dark the crowds +came and went. All Polk Street seemed to have invaded the suite, lured +on by the red flag that waved from the front windows. It was a fete, a +veritable holiday, for the whole neighborhood. People with no thought +of buying presented themselves. Young women--the candy-store girls and +florist's apprentices--came to see the fun, walking arm in arm from room +to room, making jokes about the pretty lithographs and mimicking the +picture of the two little girls saying their prayers. + +"Look here," they would cry, "look here what she used for +curtains--NOTTINGHAM lace, actually! Whoever thinks of buying Nottingham +lace now-a-days? Say, don't that JAR you?" + +"And a melodeon," another one would exclaim, lifting the sheet. "A +melodeon, when you can rent a piano for a dollar a week; and say, I +really believe they used to eat in the kitchen." + +"Dollarn-half, dollarn-half, dollarn-half, give me two," intoned the +auctioneer from the second-hand store. By noon the crowd became a jam. +Wagons backed up to the curb outside and departed heavily laden. In +all directions people could be seen going away from the house, carrying +small articles of furniture--a clock, a water pitcher, a towel rack. +Every now and then old Miss Baker, who had gone below to see how things +were progressing, returned with reports of the foray. + +"Mrs. Heise bought the chenille portieres. Mister Ryer made a bid for +your bed, but a man in a gray coat bid over him. It was knocked down for +three dollars and a half. The German shoe-maker on the next block +bought the stone pug dog. I saw our postman going away with a lot of the +pictures. Zerkow has come, on my word! the rags-bottles-sacks man; he's +buying lots; he bought all Doctor McTeague's gold tape and some of the +instruments. Maria's there too. That dentist on the corner took the +dental engine, and wanted to get the sign, the big gold tooth," and so +on and so on. Cruelest of all, however, at least to Trina, was when Miss +Baker herself began to buy, unable to resist a bargain. The last time +she came up she carried a bundle of the gay tidies that used to hang +over the chair backs. + +"He offered them, three for a nickel," she explained to Trina, "and +I thought I'd spend just a quarter. You don't mind, now, do you, Mrs. +McTeague?" + +"Why, no, of course not, Miss Baker," answered Trina, bravely. + +"They'll look very pretty on some of my chairs," went on the little old +dressmaker, innocently. "See." She spread one of them on a chair back +for inspection. Trina's chin quivered. + +"Oh, VERY pretty," she answered. + +At length that dreadful day was over. The crowd dispersed. Even the +auctioneer went at last, and as he closed the door with a bang, +the reverberation that went through the suite gave evidence of its +emptiness. + +"Come," said Trina to the dentist, "let's go down and look--take a last +look." + +They went out of Miss Baker's room and descended to the floor below. +On the stairs, however, they were met by Old Grannis. In his hands +he carried a little package. Was it possible that he too had taken +advantage of their misfortunes to join in the raid upon the suite? + +"I went in," he began, timidly, "for--for a few moments. This"--he +indicated the little package he carried--"this was put up. It was of no +value but to you. I--I ventured to bid it in. I thought perhaps"--his +hand went to his chin, "that you wouldn't mind; that--in fact, I bought +it for you--as a present. Will you take it?" He handed the package to +Trina and hurried on. Trina tore off the wrappings. + +It was the framed photograph of McTeague and his wife in their wedding +finery, the one that had been taken immediately after the marriage. +It represented Trina sitting very erect in a rep armchair, holding her +wedding bouquet straight before her, McTeague standing at her side, his +left foot forward, one hand upon her shoulder, and the other thrust into +the breast of his "Prince Albert" coat, in the attitude of a statue of a +Secretary of State. + +"Oh, it WAS good of him, it WAS good of him," cried Trina, her eyes +filling again. "I had forgotten to put it away. Of course it was not for +sale." + +They went on down the stairs, and arriving at the door of the +sitting-room, opened it and looked in. It was late in the afternoon, +and there was just light enough for the dentist and his wife to see the +results of that day of sale. Nothing was left, not even the carpet. +It was a pillage, a devastation, the barrenness of a field after the +passage of a swarm of locusts. The room had been picked and stripped +till only the bare walls and floor remained. Here where they had been +married, where the wedding supper had taken place, where Trina had bade +farewell to her father and mother, here where she had spent those first +few hard months of her married life, where afterward she had grown to +be happy and contented, where she had passed the long hours of the +afternoon at her work of whittling, and where she and her husband had +spent so many evenings looking out of the window before the lamp was +lit--here in what had been her home, nothing was left but echoes and the +emptiness of complete desolation. Only one thing remained. On the wall +between the windows, in its oval glass frame, preserved by some unknown +and fearful process, a melancholy relic of a vanished happiness, unsold, +neglected, and forgotten, a thing that nobody wanted, hung Trina's +wedding bouquet. + + + +CHAPTER 15 + + +Then the grind began. It would have been easier for the McTeagues to +have faced their misfortunes had they befallen them immediately after +their marriage, when their love for each other was fresh and fine, and +when they could have found a certain happiness in helping each other and +sharing each other's privations. Trina, no doubt, loved her husband +more than ever, in the sense that she felt she belonged to him. But +McTeague's affection for his wife was dwindling a little every day--HAD +been dwindling for a long time, in fact. He had become used to her by +now. She was part of the order of the things with which he found himself +surrounded. He saw nothing extraordinary about her; it was no longer a +pleasure for him to kiss her and take her in his arms; she was merely +his wife. He did not dislike her; he did not love her. She was his wife, +that was all. But he sadly missed and regretted all those little animal +comforts which in the old prosperous life Trina had managed to find for +him. He missed the cabbage soups and steaming chocolate that Trina had +taught him to like; he missed his good tobacco that Trina had educated +him to prefer; he missed the Sunday afternoon walks that she had caused +him to substitute in place of his nap in the operating chair; and he +missed the bottled beer that she had induced him to drink in place of +the steam beer from Frenna's. In the end he grew morose and sulky, and +sometimes neglected to answer his wife when she spoke to him. Besides +this, Trina's avarice was a perpetual annoyance to him. Oftentimes when +a considerable alleviation of this unhappiness could have been obtained +at the expense of a nickel or a dime, Trina refused the money with a +pettishness that was exasperating. + +"No, no," she would exclaim. "To ride to the park Sunday afternoon, that +means ten cents, and I can't afford it." + +"Let's walk there, then." + +"I've got to work." + +"But you've worked morning and afternoon every day this week." + +"I don't care, I've got to work." + +There had been a time when Trina had hated the idea of McTeague drinking +steam beer as common and vulgar. + +"Say, let's have a bottle of beer to-night. We haven't had a drop of +beer in three weeks." + +"We can't afford it. It's fifteen cents a bottle." + +"But I haven't had a swallow of beer in three weeks." + +"Drink STEAM beer, then. You've got a nickel. I gave you a quarter day +before yesterday." + +"But I don't like steam beer now." + +It was so with everything. Unfortunately, Trina had cultivated tastes in +McTeague which now could not be gratified. He had come to be very proud +of his silk hat and "Prince Albert" coat, and liked to wear them on +Sundays. Trina had made him sell both. He preferred "Yale mixture" in +his pipe; Trina had made him come down to "Mastiff," a five-cent tobacco +with which he was once contented, but now abhorred. He liked to wear +clean cuffs; Trina allowed him a fresh pair on Sundays only. At first +these deprivations angered McTeague. Then, all of a sudden, he slipped +back into the old habits (that had been his before he knew Trina) with +an ease that was surprising. Sundays he dined at the car conductors' +coffee-joint once more, and spent the afternoon lying full length upon +the bed, crop-full, stupid, warm, smoking his huge pipe, drinking his +steam beer, and playing his six mournful tunes upon his concertina, +dozing off to sleep towards four o'clock. + +The sale of their furniture had, after paying the rent and outstanding +bills, netted about a hundred and thirty dollars. Trina believed that +the auctioneer from the second-hand store had swindled and cheated +them and had made a great outcry to no effect. But she had arranged the +affair with the auctioneer herself, and offset her disappointment in the +matter of the sale by deceiving her husband as to the real amount of +the returns. It was easy to lie to McTeague, who took everything for +granted; and since the occasion of her trickery with the money that was +to have been sent to her mother, Trina had found falsehood easier than +ever. + +"Seventy dollars is all the auctioneer gave me," she told her husband; +"and after paying the balance due on the rent, and the grocer's bill, +there's only fifty left." + +"Only fifty?" murmured McTeague, wagging his head, "only fifty? Think of +that." + +"Only fifty," declared Trina. Afterwards she said to herself with a +certain admiration for her cleverness: + +"Couldn't save sixty dollars much easier than that," and she had added +the hundred and thirty to the little hoard in the chamois-skin bag and +brass match-box in the bottom of her trunk. + +In these first months of their misfortunes the routine of the McTeagues +was as follows: They rose at seven and breakfasted in their room, +Trina cooking the very meagre meal on an oil stove. Immediately after +breakfast Trina sat down to her work of whittling the Noah's ark +animals, and McTeague took himself off to walk down town. He had by the +greatest good luck secured a position with a manufacturer of surgical +instruments, where his manual dexterity in the making of excavators, +pluggers, and other dental contrivances stood him in fairly good stead. +He lunched at a sailor's boarding-house near the water front, and in the +afternoon worked till six. He was home at six-thirty, and he and Trina +had supper together in the "ladies' dining parlor," an adjunct of +the car conductors' coffee-joint. Trina, meanwhile, had worked at her +whittling all day long, with but half an hour's interval for lunch, +which she herself prepared upon the oil stove. In the evening they were +both so tired that they were in no mood for conversation, and went to +bed early, worn out, harried, nervous, and cross. + +Trina was not quite so scrupulously tidy now as in the old days. At one +time while whittling the Noah's ark animals she had worn gloves. She +never wore them now. She still took pride in neatly combing and coiling +her wonderful black hair, but as the days passed she found it more and +more comfortable to work in her blue flannel wrapper. Whittlings and +chips accumulated under the window where she did her work, and she was +at no great pains to clear the air of the room vitiated by the fumes of +the oil stove and heavy with the smell of cooking. It was not gay, that +life. The room itself was not gay. The huge double bed sprawled over +nearly a fourth of the available space; the angles of Trina's trunk and +the washstand projected into the room from the walls, and barked shins +and scraped elbows. Streaks and spots of the "non-poisonous" paint that +Trina used were upon the walls and wood-work. However, in one corner of +the room, next the window, monstrous, distorted, brilliant, shining with +a light of its own, stood the dentist's sign, the enormous golden tooth, +the tooth of a Brobdingnag. + +One afternoon in September, about four months after the McTeagues had +left their suite, Trina was at her work by the window. She had whittled +some half-dozen sets of animals, and was now busy painting them and +making the arks. Little pots of "non-poisonous" paint stood at her elbow +on the table, together with a box of labels that read, "Made in France." +Her huge clasp-knife was stuck into the under side of the table. She was +now occupied solely with the brushes and the glue pot. She turned the +little figures in her fingers with a wonderful lightness and deftness, +painting the chickens Naples yellow, the elephants blue gray, the horses +Vandyke brown, adding a dot of Chinese white for the eyes and sticking +in the ears and tail with a drop of glue. The animals once done, she put +together and painted the arks, some dozen of them, all windows and no +doors, each one opening only by a lid which was half the roof. She had +all the work she could handle these days, for, from this time till a +week before Christmas, Uncle Oelbermann could take as many "Noah's ark +sets" as she could make. + +Suddenly Trina paused in her work, looking expectantly toward the door. +McTeague came in. + +"Why, Mac," exclaimed Trina. "It's only three o'clock. What are you home +so early for? Have they discharged you?" + +"They've fired me," said McTeague, sitting down on the bed. + +"Fired you! What for?" + +"I don' know. Said the times were getting hard an' they had to let me +go." + +Trina let her paint-stained hands fall into her lap. + +"OH!" she cried. "If we don't have the HARDEST luck of any two people +I ever heard of. What can you do now? Is there another place like that +where they make surgical instruments?" + +"Huh? No, I don' know. There's three more." + +"Well, you must try them right away. Go down there right now." + +"Huh? Right now? No, I'm tired. I'll go down in the morning." + +"Mac," cried Trina, in alarm, "what are you thinking of? You talk as +though we were millionaires. You must go down this minute. You're losing +money every second you sit there." She goaded the huge fellow to his +feet again, thrust his hat into his hands, and pushed him out of the +door, he obeying the while, docile and obedient as a big cart horse. He +was on the stairs when she came running after him. + +"Mac, they paid you off, didn't they, when they discharged you?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you must have some money. Give it to me." + +The dentist heaved a shoulder uneasily. + +"No, I don' want to." + +"I've got to have that money. There's no more oil for the stove, and I +must buy some more meal tickets to-night." + +"Always after me about money," muttered the dentist; but he emptied his +pockets for her, nevertheless. + +"I--you've taken it all," he grumbled. "Better leave me something for +car fare. It's going to rain." + +"Pshaw! You can walk just as well as not. A big fellow like you 'fraid +of a little walk; and it ain't going to rain." + +Trina had lied again both as to the want of oil for the stove and the +commutation ticket for the restaurant. But she knew by instinct that +McTeague had money about him, and she did not intend to let it go out of +the house. She listened intently until she was sure McTeague was gone. +Then she hurriedly opened her trunk and hid the money in the chamois bag +at the bottom. + +The dentist presented himself at every one of the makers of surgical +instruments that afternoon and was promptly turned away in each case. +Then it came on to rain, a fine, cold drizzle, that chilled him and wet +him to the bone. He had no umbrella, and Trina had not left him even +five cents for car fare. He started to walk home through the rain. It +was a long way to Polk Street, as the last manufactory he had visited +was beyond even Folsom Street, and not far from the city front. + +By the time McTeague reached Polk Street his teeth were chattering +with the cold. He was wet from head to foot. As he was passing Heise's +harness shop a sudden deluge of rain overtook him and he was obliged to +dodge into the vestibule for shelter. He, who loved to be warm, to +sleep and to be well fed, was icy cold, was exhausted and footsore +from tramping the city. He could look forward to nothing better than a +badly-cooked supper at the coffee-joint--hot meat on a cold plate, +half done suet pudding, muddy coffee, and bad bread, and he was cold, +miserably cold, and wet to the bone. All at once a sudden rage against +Trina took possession of him. It was her fault. She knew it was going +to rain, and she had not let him have a nickel for car fare--she who had +five thousand dollars. She let him walk the streets in the cold and in +the rain. "Miser," he growled behind his mustache. "Miser, nasty little +old miser. You're worse than old Zerkow, always nagging about money, +money, and you got five thousand dollars. You got more, an' you live +in that stinking hole of a room, and you won't drink any decent beer. I +ain't going to stand it much longer. She knew it was going to rain. She +KNEW it. Didn't I TELL her? And she drives me out of my own home in the +rain, for me to get money for her; more money, and she takes it. She +took that money from me that I earned. 'Twasn't hers; it was mine, I +earned it--and not a nickel for car fare. She don't care if I get wet +and get a cold and DIE. No, she don't, as long as she's warm and's got +her money." He became more and more indignant at the picture he made of +himself. "I ain't going to stand it much longer," he repeated. + +"Why, hello, Doc. Is that you?" exclaimed Heise, opening the door of +the harness shop behind him. "Come in out of the wet. Why, you're soaked +through," he added as he and McTeague came back into the shop, that +reeked of oiled leather. "Didn't you have any umbrella? Ought to have +taken a car." + +"I guess so--I guess so," murmured the dentist, confused. His teeth were +chattering. + +"YOU'RE going to catch your death-a-cold," exclaimed Heise. "Tell you +what," he said, reaching for his hat, "come in next door to Frenna's and +have something to warm you up. I'll get the old lady to mind the shop." +He called Mrs. Heise down from the floor above and took McTeague into +Joe Frenna's saloon, which was two doors above his harness shop. + +"Whiskey and gum twice, Joe," said he to the barkeeper as he and the +dentist approached the bar. + +"Huh? What?" said McTeague. "Whiskey? No, I can't drink whiskey. It kind +of disagrees with me." + +"Oh, the hell!" returned Heise, easily. "Take it as medicine. You'll get +your death-a-cold if you stand round soaked like that. Two whiskey and +gum, Joe." + +McTeague emptied the pony glass at a single enormous gulp. + +"That's the way," said Heise, approvingly. "Do you good." He drank his +off slowly. + +"I'd--I'd ask you to have a drink with me, Heise," said the dentist, who +had an indistinct idea of the amenities of the barroom, "only," he added +shamefacedly, "only--you see, I don't believe I got any change." His +anger against Trina, heated by the whiskey he had drank, flamed up +afresh. What a humiliating position for Trina to place him in, not to +leave him the price of a drink with a friend, she who had five thousand +dollars! + +"Sha! That's all right, Doc," returned Heise, nibbling on a grain of +coffee. "Want another? Hey? This my treat. Two more of the same, Joe." + +McTeague hesitated. It was lamentably true that whiskey did not agree +with him; he knew it well enough. However, by this time he felt very +comfortably warm at the pit of his stomach. The blood was beginning to +circulate in his chilled finger-tips and in his soggy, wet feet. He had +had a hard day of it; in fact, the last week, the last month, the last +three or four months, had been hard. He deserved a little consolation. +Nor could Trina object to this. It wasn't costing a cent. He drank again +with Heise. + +"Get up here to the stove and warm yourself," urged Heise, drawing up +a couple of chairs and cocking his feet upon the guard. The two fell to +talking while McTeague's draggled coat and trousers smoked. + +"What a dirty turn that was that Marcus Schouler did you!" said Heise, +wagging his head. "You ought to have fought that, Doc, sure. You'd been +practising too long." They discussed this question some ten or fifteen +minutes and then Heise rose. + +"Well, this ain't earning any money. I got to get back to the shop." +McTeague got up as well, and the pair started for the door. Just as they +were going out Ryer met them. + +"Hello, hello," he cried. "Lord, what a wet day! You two are going the +wrong way. You're going to have a drink with me. Three whiskey punches, +Joe." + +"No, no," answered McTeague, shaking his head. "I'm going back home. +I've had two glasses of whiskey already." + +"Sha!" cried Heise, catching his arm. "A strapping big chap like you +ain't afraid of a little whiskey." + +"Well, I--I--I got to go right afterwards," protested McTeague. + +About half an hour after the dentist had left to go down town, Maria +Macapa had come in to see Trina. Occasionally Maria dropped in on Trina +in this fashion and spent an hour or so chatting with her while she +worked. At first Trina had been inclined to resent these intrusions of +the Mexican woman, but of late she had begun to tolerate them. Her day +was long and cheerless at the best, and there was no one to talk to. +Trina even fancied that old Miss Baker had come to be less cordial since +their misfortune. Maria retailed to her all the gossip of the flat and +the neighborhood, and, which was much more interesting, told her of her +troubles with Zerkow. + +Trina said to herself that Maria was common and vulgar, but one had +to have some diversion, and Trina could talk and listen without +interrupting her work. On this particular occasion Maria was much +excited over Zerkow's demeanor of late. + +"He's gettun worse an' worse," she informed Trina as she sat on the edge +of the bed, her chin in her hand. "He says he knows I got the dishes and +am hidun them from him. The other day I thought he'd gone off with his +wagon, and I was doin' a bit of ir'ning, an' by an' by all of a sudden I +saw him peeping at me through the crack of the door. I never let on +that I saw him, and, honest, he stayed there over two hours, watchun +everything I did. I could just feel his eyes on the back of my neck all +the time. Last Sunday he took down part of the wall, 'cause he said +he'd seen me making figures on it. Well, I was, but it was just the wash +list. All the time he says he'll kill me if I don't tell." + +"Why, what do you stay with him for?" exclaimed Trina. "I'd be deathly +'fraid of a man like that; and he did take a knife to you once." + +"Hoh! HE won't kill me, never fear. If he'd kill me he'd never know +where the dishes were; that's what HE thinks." + +"But I can't understand, Maria; you told him about those gold dishes +yourself." + +"Never, never! I never saw such a lot of crazy folks as you are." + +"But you say he hits you sometimes." + +"Ah!" said Maria, tossing her head scornfully, "I ain't afraid of him. +He takes his horsewhip to me now and then, but I can always manage. +I say, 'If you touch me with that, then I'll NEVER tell you.' Just +pretending, you know, and he drops it as though it was red hot. Say, +Mrs. McTeague, have you got any tea? Let's make a cup of tea over the +stove." + +"No, no," cried Trina, with niggardly apprehension; "no, I haven't got a +bit of tea." Trina's stinginess had increased to such an extent that it +had gone beyond the mere hoarding of money. She grudged even the food +that she and McTeague ate, and even brought away half loaves of bread, +lumps of sugar, and fruit from the car conductors' coffee-joint. She hid +these pilferings away on the shelf by the window, and often managed +to make a very creditable lunch from them, enjoying the meal with the +greater relish because it cost her nothing. + +"No, Maria, I haven't got a bit of tea," she said, shaking her head +decisively. "Hark, ain't that Mac?" she added, her chin in the air. +"That's his step, sure." + +"Well, I'm going to skip," said Maria. She left hurriedly, passing +the dentist in the hall just outside the door. "Well?" said Trina +interrogatively as her husband entered. McTeague did not answer. He hung +his hat on the hook behind the door and dropped heavily into a chair. + +"Well," asked Trina, anxiously, "how did you make out, Mac?" + +Still the dentist pretended not to hear, scowling fiercely at his muddy +boots. + +"Tell me, Mac, I want to know. Did you get a place? Did you get caught +in the rain?" + +"Did I? Did I?" cried the dentist, sharply, an alacrity in his manner +and voice that Trina had never observed before. + +"Look at me. Look at me," he went on, speaking with an unwonted +rapidity, his wits sharp, his ideas succeeding each other quickly. "Look +at me, drenched through, shivering cold. I've walked the city over. +Caught in the rain! Yes, I guess I did get caught in the rain, and it +ain't your fault I didn't catch my death-a-cold; wouldn't even let me +have a nickel for car fare." + +"But, Mac," protested Trina, "I didn't know it was going to rain." + +The dentist put back his head and laughed scornfully. His face was very +red, and his small eyes twinkled. "Hoh! no, you didn't know it was going +to rain. Didn't I TELL you it was?" he exclaimed, suddenly angry again. +"Oh, you're a DAISY, you are. Think I'm going to put up with your +foolishness ALL the time? Who's the boss, you or I?" + +"Why, Mac, I never saw you this way before. You talk like a different +man." + +"Well, I AM a different man," retorted the dentist, savagely. "You can't +make small of me ALWAYS." + +"Well, never mind that. You know I'm not trying to make small of you. +But never mind that. Did you get a place?" + +"Give me my money," exclaimed McTeague, jumping up briskly. There was +an activity, a positive nimbleness about the huge blond giant that +had never been his before; also his stupidity, the sluggishness of his +brain, seemed to be unusually stimulated. + +"Give me my money, the money I gave you as I was going away." + +"I can't," exclaimed Trina. "I paid the grocer's bill with it while you +were gone." + +"Don't believe you." + +"Truly, truly, Mac. Do you think I'd lie to you? Do you think I'd lower +myself to do that?" + +"Well, the next time I earn any money I'll keep it myself." + +"But tell me, Mac, DID you get a place?" + +McTeague turned his back on her. + +"Tell me, Mac, please, did you?" + +The dentist jumped up and thrust his face close to hers, his heavy jaw +protruding, his little eyes twinkling meanly. + +"No," he shouted. "No, no, NO. Do you hear? NO." + +Trina cowered before him. Then suddenly she began to sob aloud, weeping +partly at his strange brutality, partly at the disappointment of his +failure to find employment. + +McTeague cast a contemptuous glance about him, a glance that embraced +the dingy, cheerless room, the rain streaming down the panes of the one +window, and the figure of his weeping wife. + +"Oh, ain't this all FINE?" he exclaimed. "Ain't it lovely?" + +"It's not my fault," sobbed Trina. + +"It is too," vociferated McTeague. "It is too. We could live like +Christians and decent people if you wanted to. You got more'n five +thousand dollars, and you're so damned stingy that you'd rather live in +a rat hole--and make me live there too--before you'd part with a nickel +of it. I tell you I'm sick and tired of the whole business." + +An allusion to her lottery money never failed to rouse Trina. + +"And I'll tell you this much too," she cried, winking back the tears. +"Now that you're out of a job, we can't afford even to live in your rat +hole, as you call it. We've got to find a cheaper place than THIS even." + +"What!" exclaimed the dentist, purple with rage. "What, get into a worse +hole in the wall than this? Well, we'll SEE if we will. We'll just see +about that. You're going to do just as I tell you after this, Trina +McTeague," and once more he thrust his face close to hers. + +"I know what's the matter," cried Trina, with a half sob; "I know, I can +smell it on your breath. You've been drinking whiskey." + +"Yes, I've been drinking whiskey," retorted her husband. "I've been +drinking whiskey. Have you got anything to say about it? Ah, yes, you're +RIGHT, I've been drinking whiskey. What have YOU got to say about my +drinking whiskey? Let's hear it." + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" sobbed Trina, covering her face with her hands. McTeague +caught her wrists in one palm and pulled them down. Trina's pale face +was streaming with tears; her long, narrow blue eyes were swimming; her +adorable little chin upraised and quivering. + +"Let's hear what you got to say," exclaimed McTeague. + +"Nothing, nothing," said Trina, between her sobs. + +"Then stop that noise. Stop it, do you hear me? Stop it." He threw up +his open hand threateningly. "STOP!" he exclaimed. + +Trina looked at him fearfully, half blinded with weeping. Her husband's +thick mane of yellow hair was disordered and rumpled upon his great +square-cut head; his big red ears were redder than ever; his face was +purple; the thick eyebrows were knotted over the small, twinkling eyes; +the heavy yellow mustache, that smelt of alcohol, drooped over the +massive, protruding chin, salient, like that of the carnivora; the veins +were swollen and throbbing on his thick red neck; while over her head +Trina saw his upraised palm, callused, enormous. + +"Stop!" he exclaimed. And Trina, watching fearfully, saw the palm +suddenly contract into a fist, a fist that was hard as a wooden mallet, +the fist of the old-time car-boy. And then her ancient terror of him, +the intuitive fear of the male, leaped to life again. She was afraid of +him. Every nerve of her quailed and shrank from him. She choked back her +sobs, catching her breath. + +"There," growled the dentist, releasing her, "that's more like. Now," +he went on, fixing her with his little eyes, "now listen to me. I'm beat +out. I've walked the city over--ten miles, I guess--an' I'm going to +bed, an' I don't want to be bothered. You understand? I want to be let +alone." Trina was silent. + +"Do you HEAR?" he snarled. + +"Yes, Mac." + +The dentist took off his coat, his collar and necktie, unbuttoned his +vest, and slipped his heavy-soled boots from his big feet. Then he +stretched himself upon the bed and rolled over towards the wall. In a +few minutes the sound of his snoring filled the room. + +Trina craned her neck and looked at her husband over the footboard of +the bed. She saw his red, congested face; the huge mouth wide open; his +unclean shirt, with its frayed wristbands; and his huge feet encased +in thick woollen socks. Then her grief and the sense of her unhappiness +returned more poignant than ever. She stretched her arms out in front of +her on her work-table, and, burying her face in them, cried and sobbed +as though her heart would break. + +The rain continued. The panes of the single window ran with sheets of +water; the eaves dripped incessantly. It grew darker. The tiny, grimy +room, full of the smells of cooking and of "non-poisonous" paint, took +on an aspect of desolation and cheerlessness lamentable beyond words. +The canary in its little gilt prison chittered feebly from time to time. +Sprawled at full length upon the bed, the dentist snored and snored, +stupefied, inert, his legs wide apart, his hands lying palm upward at +his sides. + +At last Trina raised her head, with a long, trembling breath. She rose, +and going over to the washstand, poured some water from the pitcher into +the basin, and washed her face and swollen eyelids, and rearranged her +hair. Suddenly, as she was about to return to her work, she was struck +with an idea. + +"I wonder," she said to herself, "I wonder where he got the money to buy +his whiskey." She searched the pockets of his coat, which he had flung +into a corner of the room, and even came up to him as he lay upon the +bed and went through the pockets of his vest and trousers. She found +nothing. + +"I wonder," she murmured, "I wonder if he's got any money he don't tell +me about. I'll have to look out for that." + + + +CHAPTER 16 + + +A week passed, then a fortnight, then a month. It was a month of the +greatest anxiety and unquietude for Trina. McTeague was out of a job, +could find nothing to do; and Trina, who saw the impossibility of saving +as much money as usual out of her earnings under the present conditions, +was on the lookout for cheaper quarters. In spite of his outcries and +sulky resistance Trina had induced her husband to consent to such a +move, bewildering him with a torrent of phrases and marvellous columns +of figures by which she proved conclusively that they were in a +condition but one remove from downright destitution. + +The dentist continued idle. Since his ill success with the manufacturers +of surgical instruments he had made but two attempts to secure a job. +Trina had gone to see Uncle Oelbermann and had obtained for McTeague a +position in the shipping department of the wholesale toy store. However, +it was a position that involved a certain amount of ciphering, and +McTeague had been obliged to throw it up in two days. + +Then for a time they had entertained a wild idea that a place on the +police force could be secured for McTeague. He could pass the physical +examination with flying colors, and Ryer, who had become the secretary +of the Polk Street Improvement Club, promised the requisite political +"pull." If McTeague had shown a certain energy in the matter the attempt +might have been successful; but he was too stupid, or of late had become +too listless to exert himself greatly, and the affair resulted only in a +violent quarrel with Ryer. + +McTeague had lost his ambition. He did not care to better his situation. +All he wanted was a warm place to sleep and three good meals a day. +At the first--at the very first--he had chafed at his idleness and had +spent the days with his wife in their one narrow room, walking back and +forth with the restlessness of a caged brute, or sitting motionless for +hours, watching Trina at her work, feeling a dull glow of shame at the +idea that she was supporting him. This feeling had worn off quickly, +however. Trina's work was only hard when she chose to make it so, and as +a rule she supported their misfortunes with a silent fortitude. + +Then, wearied at his inaction and feeling the need of movement and +exercise, McTeague would light his pipe and take a turn upon the great +avenue one block above Polk Street. A gang of laborers were digging the +foundations for a large brownstone house, and McTeague found interest +and amusement in leaning over the barrier that surrounded the +excavations and watching the progress of the work. He came to see +it every afternoon; by and by he even got to know the foreman who +superintended the job, and the two had long talks together. Then +McTeague would return to Polk Street and find Heise in the back room of +the harness shop, and occasionally the day ended with some half dozen +drinks of whiskey at Joe Frenna's saloon. + +It was curious to note the effect of the alcohol upon the dentist. +It did not make him drunk, it made him vicious. So far from being +stupefied, he became, after the fourth glass, active, alert, +quick-witted, even talkative; a certain wickedness stirred in him then; +he was intractable, mean; and when he had drunk a little more heavily +than usual, he found a certain pleasure in annoying and exasperating +Trina, even in abusing and hurting her. + +It had begun on the evening of Thanksgiving Day, when Heise had taken +McTeague out to dinner with him. The dentist on this occasion had +drunk very freely. He and Heise had returned to Polk Street towards ten +o'clock, and Heise at once suggested a couple of drinks at Frenna's. + +"All right, all right," said McTeague. "Drinks, that's the word. I'll go +home and get some money and meet you at Joe's." + +Trina was awakened by her husband pinching her arm. + +"Oh, Mac," she cried, jumping up in bed with a little scream, "how you +hurt! Oh, that hurt me dreadfully." + +"Give me a little money," answered the dentist, grinning, and pinching +her again. + +"I haven't a cent. There's not a--oh, MAC, will you stop? I won't have +you pinch me that way." + +"Hurry up," answered her husband, calmly, nipping the flesh of her +shoulder between his thumb and finger. "Heise's waiting for me." Trina +wrenched from him with a sharp intake of breath, frowning with pain, and +caressing her shoulder. + +"Mac, you've no idea how that hurts. Mac, STOP!" + +"Give me some money, then." + +In the end Trina had to comply. She gave him half a dollar from her +dress pocket, protesting that it was the only piece of money she had. + +"One more, just for luck," said McTeague, pinching her again; "and +another." + +"How can you--how CAN you hurt a woman so!" exclaimed Trina, beginning +to cry with the pain. + +"Ah, now, CRY," retorted the dentist. "That's right, CRY. I never saw +such a little fool." He went out, slamming the door in disgust. + +But McTeague never became a drunkard in the generally received sense of +the term. He did not drink to excess more than two or three times in a +month, and never upon any occasion did he become maudlin or staggering. +Perhaps his nerves were naturally too dull to admit of any excitation; +perhaps he did not really care for the whiskey, and only drank because +Heise and the other men at Frenna's did. Trina could often reproach +him with drinking too much; she never could say that he was drunk. The +alcohol had its effect for all that. It roused the man, or rather the +brute in the man, and now not only roused it, but goaded it to evil. +McTeague's nature changed. It was not only the alcohol, it was idleness +and a general throwing off of the good influence his wife had had over +him in the days of their prosperity. McTeague disliked Trina. She was a +perpetual irritation to him. She annoyed him because she was so small, +so prettily made, so invariably correct and precise. Her avarice +incessantly harassed him. Her industry was a constant reproach to him. +She seemed to flaunt her work defiantly in his face. It was the red +flag in the eyes of the bull. One time when he had just come back from +Frenna's and had been sitting in the chair near her, silently watching +her at her work, he exclaimed all of a sudden: + +"Stop working. Stop it, I tell you. Put 'em away. Put 'em all away, or +I'll pinch you." + +"But why--why?" Trina protested. + +The dentist cuffed her ears. "I won't have you work." He took her knife +and her paint-pots away, and made her sit idly in the window the rest of +the afternoon. + +It was, however, only when his wits had been stirred with alcohol that +the dentist was brutal to his wife. At other times, say three weeks of +every month, she was merely an incumbrance to him. They often quarrelled +about Trina's money, her savings. The dentist was bent upon having at +least a part of them. What he would do with the money once he had it, +he did not precisely know. He would spend it in royal fashion, no doubt, +feasting continually, buying himself wonderful clothes. The miner's idea +of money quickly gained and lavishly squandered, persisted in his mind. +As for Trina, the more her husband stormed, the tighter she drew the +strings of the little chamois-skin bag that she hid at the bottom of her +trunk underneath her bridal dress. Her five thousand dollars invested in +Uncle Oelbermann's business was a glittering, splendid dream which came +to her almost every hour of the day as a solace and a compensation for +all her unhappiness. + +At times, when she knew that McTeague was far from home, she would lock +her door, open her trunk, and pile all her little hoard on her table. By +now it was four hundred and seven dollars and fifty cents. Trina +would play with this money by the hour, piling it, and repiling it, or +gathering it all into one heap, and drawing back to the farthest corner +of the room to note the effect, her head on one side. She polished the +gold pieces with a mixture of soap and ashes until they shone, wiping +them carefully on her apron. Or, again, she would draw the heap lovingly +toward her and bury her face in it, delighted at the smell of it and the +feel of the smooth, cool metal on her cheeks. She even put the smaller +gold pieces in her mouth, and jingled them there. She loved her money +with an intensity that she could hardly express. She would plunge her +small fingers into the pile with little murmurs of affection, her long, +narrow eyes half closed and shining, her breath coming in long sighs. + +"Ah, the dear money, the dear money," she would whisper. "I love you so! +All mine, every penny of it. No one shall ever, ever get you. How I've +worked for you! How I've slaved and saved for you! And I'm going to get +more; I'm going to get more, more, more; a little every day." + +She was still looking for cheaper quarters. Whenever she could spare a +moment from her work, she would put on her hat and range up and down the +entire neighborhood from Sutter to Sacramento Streets, going into +all the alleys and bystreets, her head in the air, looking for the +"Rooms-to-let" sign. But she was in despair. All the cheaper tenements +were occupied. She could find no room more reasonable than the one she +and the dentist now occupied. + +As time went on, McTeague's idleness became habitual. He drank no more +whiskey than at first, but his dislike for Trina increased with every +day of their poverty, with every day of Trina's persistent stinginess. +At times--fortunately rare he was more than ever brutal to her. He would +box her ears or hit her a great blow with the back of a hair-brush, +or even with his closed fist. His old-time affection for his "little +woman," unable to stand the test of privation, had lapsed by degrees, +and what little of it was left was changed, distorted, and made +monstrous by the alcohol. + +The people about the house and the clerks at the provision stores often +remarked that Trina's fingertips were swollen and the nails purple as +though they had been shut in a door. Indeed, this was the explanation +she gave. The fact of the matter was that McTeague, when he had been +drinking, used to bite them, crunching and grinding them with his +immense teeth, always ingenious enough to remember which were the +sorest. Sometimes he extorted money from her by this means, but as often +as not he did it for his own satisfaction. + +And in some strange, inexplicable way this brutality made Trina all +the more affectionate; aroused in her a morbid, unwholesome love of +submission, a strange, unnatural pleasure in yielding, in surrendering +herself to the will of an irresistible, virile power. + +Trina's emotions had narrowed with the narrowing of her daily life. They +reduced themselves at last to but two, her passion for her money and +her perverted love for her husband when he was brutal. She was a strange +woman during these days. + +Trina had come to be on very intimate terms with Maria Macapa, and +in the end the dentist's wife and the maid of all work became great +friends. Maria was constantly in and out of Trina's room, and, whenever +she could, Trina threw a shawl over her head and returned Maria's calls. +Trina could reach Zerkow's dirty house without going into the street. +The back yard of the flat had a gate that opened into a little inclosure +where Zerkow kept his decrepit horse and ramshackle wagon, and from +thence Trina could enter directly into Maria's kitchen. Trina made long +visits to Maria during the morning in her dressing-gown and curl papers, +and the two talked at great length over a cup of tea served on the edge +of the sink or a corner of the laundry table. The talk was all of their +husbands and of what to do when they came home in aggressive moods. + +"You never ought to fight um," advised Maria. "It only makes um worse. +Just hump your back, and it's soonest over." + +They told each other of their husbands' brutalities, taking a strange +sort of pride in recounting some particularly savage blow, each trying +to make out that her own husband was the most cruel. They critically +compared each other's bruises, each one glad when she could exhibit +the worst. They exaggerated, they invented details, and, as if proud of +their beatings, as if glorying in their husbands' mishandling, lied to +each other, magnifying their own maltreatment. They had long and excited +arguments as to which were the most effective means of punishment, the +rope's ends and cart whips such as Zerkow used, or the fists and backs +of hair-brushes affected by McTeague. Maria contended that the lash of +the whip hurt the most; Trina, that the butt did the most injury. + +Maria showed Trina the holes in the walls and the loosened boards in the +flooring where Zerkow had been searching for the gold plate. Of late +he had been digging in the back yard and had ransacked the hay in his +horse-shed for the concealed leather chest he imagined he would find. +But he was becoming impatient, evidently. + +"The way he goes on," Maria told Trina, "is somethun dreadful. He's +gettun regularly sick with it--got a fever every night--don't sleep, and +when he does, talks to himself. Says 'More'n a hundred pieces, an' every +one of 'em gold. More'n a hundred pieces, an' every one of 'em gold.' +Then he'll whale me with his whip, and shout, 'You know where it is. +Tell me, tell me, you swine, or I'll do for you.' An' then he'll get +down on his knees and whimper, and beg me to tell um where I've hid it. +He's just gone plum crazy. Sometimes he has regular fits, he gets so +mad, and rolls on the floor and scratches himself." + +One morning in November, about ten o'clock, Trina pasted a "Made in +France" label on the bottom of a Noah's ark, and leaned back in +her chair with a long sigh of relief. She had just finished a large +Christmas order for Uncle Oelbermann, and there was nothing else she +could do that morning. The bed had not yet been made, nor had the +breakfast things been washed. Trina hesitated for a moment, then put her +chin in the air indifferently. + +"Bah!" she said, "let them go till this afternoon. I don't care WHEN +the room is put to rights, and I know Mac don't." She determined that +instead of making the bed or washing the dishes she would go and call +on Miss Baker on the floor below. The little dressmaker might ask her +to stay to lunch, and that would be something saved, as the dentist had +announced his intention that morning of taking a long walk out to the +Presidio to be gone all day. + +But Trina rapped on Miss Baker's door in vain that morning. She was +out. Perhaps she was gone to the florist's to buy some geranium seeds. +However, Old Grannis's door stood a little ajar, and on hearing Trina at +Miss Baker's room, the old Englishman came out into the hall. + +"She's gone out," he said, uncertainly, and in a half whisper, "went +out about half an hour ago. I--I think she went to the drug store to get +some wafers for the goldfish." + +"Don't you go to your dog hospital any more, Mister Grannis?" said +Trina, leaning against the balustrade in the hall, willing to talk a +moment. + +Old Grannis stood in the doorway of his room, in his carpet slippers and +faded corduroy jacket that he wore when at home. + +"Why--why," he said, hesitating, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You see +I'm thinking of giving up the little hospital." + +"Giving it up?" + +"You see, the people at the book store where I buy my pamphlets have +found out--I told them of my contrivance for binding books, and one of +the members of the firm came up to look at it. He offered me quite a sum +if I would sell him the right of it--the--patent of it--quite a sum. In +fact--in fact--yes, quite a sum, quite." He rubbed his chin tremulously +and looked about him on the floor. + +"Why, isn't that fine?" said Trina, good-naturedly. "I'm very glad, +Mister Grannis. Is it a good price?" + +"Quite a sum--quite. In fact, I never dreamed of having so much money." + +"Now, see here, Mister Grannis," said Trina, decisively, "I want to give +you a good piece of advice. Here are you and Miss Baker----" The old +Englishman started nervously--"You and Miss Baker, that have been in +love with each other for----" + +"Oh, Mrs. McTeague, that subject--if you would please--Miss Baker is +such an estimable lady." + +"Fiddlesticks!" said Trina. "You're in love with each other, and the +whole flat knows it; and you two have been living here side by side year +in and year out, and you've never said a word to each other. It's all +nonsense. Now, I want you should go right in and speak to her just as +soon as she comes home, and say you've come into money and you want her +to marry you." + +"Impossible--impossible!" exclaimed the old Englishman, alarmed and +perturbed. "It's quite out of the question. I wouldn't presume." + +"Well, do you love her, or not?" + +"Really, Mrs. McTeague, I--I--you must excuse me. It's a matter so +personal--so--I--Oh, yes, I love her. Oh, yes, indeed," he exclaimed, +suddenly. + +"Well, then, she loves you. She told me so." + +"Oh!" + +"She did. She said those very words." + +Miss Baker had said nothing of the kind--would have died sooner than +have made such a confession; but Trina had drawn her own conclusions, +like every other lodger of the flat, and thought the time was come for +decided action. + +"Now you do just as I tell you, and when she comes home, go right in and +see her, and have it over with. Now, don't say another word. I'm going; +but you do just as I tell you." + +Trina turned about and went down-stairs. She had decided, since Miss +Baker was not at home, that she would run over and see Maria; possibly +she could have lunch there. At any rate, Maria would offer her a cup of +tea. + +Old Grannis stood for a long time just as Trina had left him, his hands +trembling, the blood coming and going in his withered cheeks. + +"She said, she--she--she told her--she said that--that----" he could get +no farther. + +Then he faced about and entered his room, closing the door behind him. +For a long time he sat in his armchair, drawn close to the wall in +front of the table on which stood his piles of pamphlets and his little +binding apparatus. + +"I wonder," said Trina, as she crossed the yard back of Zerkow's house, +"I wonder what rent Zerkow and Maria pay for this place. I'll bet it's +cheaper than where Mac and I are." + +Trina found Maria sitting in front of the kitchen stove, her chin upon +her breast. Trina went up to her. She was dead. And as Trina touched +her shoulder, her head rolled sideways and showed a fearful gash in her +throat under her ear. All the front of her dress was soaked through and +through. + +Trina backed sharply away from the body, drawing her hands up to her +very shoulders, her eyes staring and wide, an expression of unutterable +horror twisting her face. + +"Oh-h-h!" she exclaimed in a long breath, her voice hardly rising above +a whisper. "Oh-h, isn't that horrible!" Suddenly she turned and fled +through the front part of the house to the street door, that opened upon +the little alley. She looked wildly about her. Directly across the way a +butcher's boy was getting into his two-wheeled cart drawn up in front of +the opposite house, while near by a peddler of wild game was coming down +the street, a brace of ducks in his hand. + +"Oh, say--say," gasped Trina, trying to get her voice, "say, come over +here quick." + +The butcher's boy paused, one foot on the wheel, and stared. Trina +beckoned frantically. + +"Come over here, come over here quick." + +The young fellow swung himself into his seat. + +"What's the matter with that woman?" he said, half aloud. + +"There's a murder been done," cried Trina, swaying in the doorway. + +The young fellow drove away, his head over his shoulder, staring at +Trina with eyes that were fixed and absolutely devoid of expression. + +"What's the matter with that woman?" he said again to himself as he +turned the corner. + +Trina wondered why she didn't scream, how she could keep from it--how, +at such a moment as this, she could remember that it was improper to +make a disturbance and create a scene in the street. The peddler of wild +game was looking at her suspiciously. It would not do to tell him. He +would go away like the butcher's boy. + +"Now, wait a minute," Trina said to herself, speaking aloud. She put her +hands to her head. "Now, wait a minute. It won't do for me to lose my +wits now. What must I do?" She looked about her. There was the same +familiar aspect of Polk Street. She could see it at the end of the +alley. The big market opposite the flat, the delivery carts rattling up +and down, the great ladies from the avenue at their morning shopping, +the cable cars trundling past, loaded with passengers. She saw a little +boy in a flat leather cap whistling and calling for an unseen dog, +slapping his small knee from time to time. Two men came out of Frenna's +saloon, laughing heartily. Heise the harness-maker stood in the +vestibule of his shop, a bundle of whittlings in his apron of greasy +ticking. And all this was going on, people were laughing and living, +buying and selling, walking about out there on the sunny sidewalks, +while behind her in there--in there--in there---- + +Heise started back from the sudden apparition of a white-lipped woman +in a blue dressing-gown that seemed to rise up before him from his very +doorstep. + +"Well, Mrs. McTeague, you did scare me, for----" + +"Oh, come over here quick." Trina put her hand to her neck; swallowing +something that seemed to be choking her. "Maria's killed--Zerkow's +wife--I found her." + +"Get out!" exclaimed Heise, "you're joking." + +"Come over here--over into the house--I found her--she's dead." + +Heise dashed across the street on the run, with Trina at his heels, a +trail of spilled whittlings marking his course. The two ran down the +alley. The wild-game peddler, a woman who had been washing down the +steps in a neighboring house, and a man in a broad-brimmed hat stood at +Zerkow's doorway, looking in from time to time, and talking together. +They seemed puzzled. + +"Anything wrong in here?" asked the wild-game peddler as Heise and Trina +came up. Two more men stopped on the corner of the alley and Polk Street +and looked at the group. A woman with a towel round her head raised +a window opposite Zerkow's house and called to the woman who had been +washing the steps, "What is it, Mrs. Flint?" + +Heise was already inside the house. He turned to Trina, panting from his +run. + +"Where did you say--where was it--where?" + +"In there," said Trina, "farther in--the next room." They burst into the +kitchen. + +"LORD!" ejaculated Heise, stopping a yard or so from the body, and +bending down to peer into the gray face with its brown lips. + +"By God! he's killed her." + +"Who?" + +"Zerkow, by God! he's killed her. Cut her throat. He always said he +would." + +"Zerkow?" + +"He's killed her. Her throat's cut. Good Lord, how she did bleed! By +God! he's done for her in good shape this time." + +"Oh, I told her--I TOLD her," cried Trina. + +"He's done for her SURE this time." + +"She said she could always manage--Oh-h! It's horrible." + +"He's done for her sure this trip. Cut her throat. LORD, how she has +BLED! Did you ever see so much--that's murder--that's cold-blooded +murder. He's killed her. Say, we must get a policeman. Come on." + +They turned back through the house. Half a dozen people--the wild-game +peddler, the man with the broad-brimmed hat, the washwoman, and three +other men--were in the front room of the junk shop, a bank of excited +faces surged at the door. Beyond this, outside, the crowd was packed +solid from one end of the alley to the other. Out in Polk Street the +cable cars were nearly blocked and were bunting a way slowly through the +throng with clanging bells. Every window had its group. And as Trina and +the harness-maker tried to force the way from the door of the junk shop +the throng suddenly parted right and left before the passage of two +blue-coated policemen who clove a passage through the press, working +their elbows energetically. They were accompanied by a third man in +citizen's clothes. + +Heise and Trina went back into the kitchen with the two policemen, the +third man in citizen's clothes cleared the intruders from the front room +of the junk shop and kept the crowd back, his arm across the open door. + +"Whew!" whistled one of the officers as they came out into the kitchen, +"cutting scrape? By George! SOMEBODY'S been using his knife all right." +He turned to the other officer. "Better get the wagon. There's a box on +the second corner south. Now, then," he continued, turning to Trina and +the harness-maker and taking out his note-book and pencil, "I want your +names and addresses." + +It was a day of tremendous excitement for the entire street. Long after +the patrol wagon had driven away, the crowd remained. In fact, until +seven o'clock that evening groups collected about the door of the junk +shop, where a policeman stood guard, asking all manner of questions, +advancing all manner of opinions. + +"Do you think they'll get him?" asked Ryer of the policeman. A dozen +necks craned forward eagerly. + +"Hoh, we'll get him all right, easy enough," answered the other, with a +grand air. + +"What? What's that? What did he say?" asked the people on the outskirts +of the group. Those in front passed the answer back. + +"He says they'll get him all right, easy enough." + +The group looked at the policeman admiringly. + +"He's skipped to San Jose." + +Where the rumor started, and how, no one knew. But every one seemed +persuaded that Zerkow had gone to San Jose. + +"But what did he kill her for? Was he drunk?" + +"No, he was crazy, I tell you--crazy in the head. Thought she was hiding +some money from him." + +Frenna did a big business all day long. The murder was the one subject +of conversation. Little parties were made up in his saloon--parties of +twos and threes--to go over and have a look at the outside of the junk +shop. Heise was the most important man the length and breadth of Polk +Street; almost invariably he accompanied these parties, telling again +and again of the part he had played in the affair. + +"It was about eleven o'clock. I was standing in front of the shop, when +Mrs. McTeague--you know, the dentist's wife--came running across the +street," and so on and so on. + +The next day came a fresh sensation. Polk Street read of it in the +morning papers. Towards midnight on the day of the murder Zerkow's body +had been found floating in the bay near Black Point. No one knew whether +he had drowned himself or fallen from one of the wharves. Clutched in +both his hands was a sack full of old and rusty pans, tin dishes--fully +a hundred of them--tin cans, and iron knives and forks, collected from +some dump heap. + +"And all this," exclaimed Trina, "on account of a set of gold dishes +that never existed." + + + +CHAPTER 17 + +One day, about a fortnight after the coroner's inquest had been held, +and when the excitement of the terrible affair was calming down and Polk +Street beginning to resume its monotonous routine, Old Grannis sat in +his clean, well-kept little room, in his cushioned armchair, his hands +lying idly upon his knees. It was evening; not quite time to light the +lamps. Old Grannis had drawn his chair close to the wall--so close, in +fact, that he could hear Miss Baker's grenadine brushing against the +other side of the thin partition, at his very elbow, while she rocked +gently back and forth, a cup of tea in her hands. + +Old Grannis's occupation was gone. That morning the bookselling firm +where he had bought his pamphlets had taken his little binding apparatus +from him to use as a model. The transaction had been concluded. Old +Grannis had received his check. It was large enough, to be sure, +but when all was over, he returned to his room and sat there sad and +unoccupied, looking at the pattern in the carpet and counting the heads +of the tacks in the zinc guard that was fastened to the wall behind his +little stove. By and by he heard Miss Baker moving about. It was five +o'clock, the time when she was accustomed to make her cup of tea and +"keep company" with him on her side of the partition. Old Grannis drew +up his chair to the wall near where he knew she was sitting. The minutes +passed; side by side, and separated by only a couple of inches of board, +the two old people sat there together, while the afternoon grew darker. + +But for Old Grannis all was different that evening. There was nothing +for him to do. His hands lay idly in his lap. His table, with its pile +of pamphlets, was in a far corner of the room, and, from time to time, +stirred with an uncertain trouble, he turned his head and looked at it +sadly, reflecting that he would never use it again. The absence of his +accustomed work seemed to leave something out of his life. It did not +appear to him that he could be the same to Miss Baker now; their little +habits were disarranged, their customs broken up. He could no longer +fancy himself so near to her. They would drift apart now, and she would +no longer make herself a cup of tea and "keep company" with him when +she knew that he would never again sit before his table binding uncut +pamphlets. He had sold his happiness for money; he had bartered all his +tardy romance for some miserable banknotes. He had not foreseen that it +would be like this. A vast regret welled up within him. What was that +on the back of his hand? He wiped it dry with his ancient silk +handkerchief. + +Old Grannis leant his face in his hands. Not only did an inexplicable +regret stir within him, but a certain great tenderness came upon him. +The tears that swam in his faded blue eyes were not altogether those of +unhappiness. No, this long-delayed affection that had come upon him in +his later years filled him with a joy for which tears seemed to be the +natural expression. For thirty years his eyes had not been wet, but +tonight he felt as if he were young again. He had never loved before, +and there was still a part of him that was only twenty years of age. He +could not tell whether he was profoundly sad or deeply happy; but he was +not ashamed of the tears that brought the smart to his eyes and the ache +to his throat. He did not hear the timid rapping on his door, and it was +not until the door itself opened that he looked up quickly and saw the +little retired dressmaker standing on the threshold, carrying a cup of +tea on a tiny Japanese tray. She held it toward him. + +"I was making some tea," she said, "and I thought you would like to have +a cup." + +Never after could the little dressmaker understand how she had brought +herself to do this thing. One moment she had been sitting quietly on her +side of the partition, stirring her cup of tea with one of her Gorham +spoons. She was quiet, she was peaceful. The evening was closing +down tranquilly. Her room was the picture of calmness and order. The +geraniums blooming in the starch boxes in the window, the aged goldfish +occasionally turning his iridescent flank to catch a sudden glow of the +setting sun. The next moment she had been all trepidation. It seemed to +her the most natural thing in the world to make a steaming cup of tea +and carry it in to Old Grannis next door. It seemed to her that he was +wanting her, that she ought to go to him. With the brusque resolve and +intrepidity that sometimes seizes upon very timid people--the courage of +the coward greater than all others--she had presented herself at the old +Englishman's half-open door, and, when he had not heeded her knock, +had pushed it open, and at last, after all these years, stood upon +the threshold of his room. She had found courage enough to explain her +intrusion. + +"I was making some tea, and I thought you would like to have a cup." + +Old Grannis dropped his hands upon either arm of his chair, and, leaning +forward a little, looked at her blankly. He did not speak. + +The retired dressmaker's courage had carried her thus far; now it +deserted her as abruptly as it had come. Her cheeks became scarlet; her +funny little false curls trembled with her agitation. What she had done +seemed to her indecorous beyond expression. It was an enormity. Fancy, +she had gone into his room, INTO HIS ROOM--Mister Grannis's room. She +had done this--she who could not pass him on the stairs without a qualm. +What to do she did not know. She stood, a fixture, on the threshold of +his room, without even resolution enough to beat a retreat. Helplessly, +and with a little quaver in her voice, she repeated obstinately: + +"I was making some tea, and I thought you would like to have a cup of +tea." Her agitation betrayed itself in the repetition of the word. She +felt that she could not hold the tray out another instant. Already she +was trembling so that half the tea was spilled. + +Old Grannis still kept silence, still bending forward, with wide eyes, +his hands gripping the arms of his chair. + +Then with the tea-tray still held straight before her, the little +dressmaker exclaimed tearfully: + +"Oh, I didn't mean--I didn't mean--I didn't know it would seem like +this. I only meant to be kind and bring you some tea; and now it seems +SO improper. I--I--I'm SO ashamed! I don't know what you will think +of me. I--" she caught her breath--"improper"--she managed to exclaim, +"unlady-like--you can never think well of me--I'll go. I'll go." She +turned about. + +"Stop," cried Old Grannis, finding his voice at last. Miss Baker paused, +looking at him over her shoulder, her eyes very wide open, blinking +through her tears, for all the world like a frightened child. + +"Stop," exclaimed the old Englishman, rising to his feet. "I didn't know +it was you at first. I hadn't dreamed--I couldn't believe you would be +so good, so kind to me. Oh," he cried, with a sudden sharp breath, "oh, +you ARE kind. I--I--you have--have made me very happy." + +"No, no," exclaimed Miss Baker, ready to sob. "It was unlady-like. You +will--you must think ill of me." She stood in the hall. The tears were +running down her cheeks, and she had no free hand to dry them. + +"Let me--I'll take the tray from you," cried Old Grannis, coming +forward. A tremulous joy came upon him. Never in his life had he been +so happy. At last it had come--come when he had least expected it. That +which he had longed for and hoped for through so many years, behold, it +was come to-night. He felt his awkwardness leaving him. He was almost +certain that the little dressmaker loved him, and the thought gave him +boldness. He came toward her and took the tray from her hands, and, +turning back into the room with it, made as if to set it upon his table. +But the piles of his pamphlets were in the way. Both of his hands were +occupied with the tray; he could not make a place for it on the table. +He stood for a moment uncertain, his embarrassment returning. + +"Oh, won't you--won't you please--" He turned his head, looking +appealingly at the little old dressmaker. + +"Wait, I'll help you," she said. She came into the room, up to the +table, and moved the pamphlets to one side. + +"Thanks, thanks," murmured Old Grannis, setting down the tray. + +"Now--now--now I will go back," she exclaimed, hurriedly. + +"No--no," returned the old Englishman. "Don't go, don't go. I've been +so lonely to-night--and last night too--all this year--all my life," he +suddenly cried. + +"I--I--I've forgotten the sugar." + +"But I never take sugar in my tea." + +"But it's rather cold, and I've spilled it--almost all of it." + +"I'll drink it from the saucer." Old Grannis had drawn up his armchair +for her. + +"Oh, I shouldn't. This is--this is SO--You must think ill of me." +Suddenly she sat down, and resting her elbows on the table, hid her face +in her hands. + +"Think ILL of you?" cried Old Grannis, "think ILL of you? Why, you don't +know--you have no idea--all these years--living so close to you, I--I--" +he paused suddenly. It seemed to him as if the beating of his heart was +choking him. + +"I thought you were binding your books to-night," said Miss Baker, +suddenly, "and you looked tired. I thought you looked tired when I last +saw you, and a cup of tea, you know, it--that--that does you so much +good when you're tired. But you weren't binding books." + +"No, no," returned Old Grannis, drawing up a chair and sitting down. +"No, I--the fact is, I've sold my apparatus; a firm of booksellers has +bought the rights of it." + +"And aren't you going to bind books any more?" exclaimed the little +dressmaker, a shade of disappointment in her manner. "I thought you +always did about four o'clock. I used to hear you when I was making +tea." + +It hardly seemed possible to Miss Baker that she was actually talking to +Old Grannis, that the two were really chatting together, face to face, +and without the dreadful embarrassment that used to overwhelm them both +when they met on the stairs. She had often dreamed of this, but had +always put it off to some far-distant day. It was to come gradually, +little by little, instead of, as now, abruptly and with no preparation. +That she should permit herself the indiscretion of actually intruding +herself into his room had never so much as occurred to her. Yet here she +was, IN HIS ROOM, and they were talking together, and little by little +her embarrassment was wearing away. + +"Yes, yes, I always heard you when you were making tea," returned the +old Englishman; "I heard the tea things. Then I used to draw my chair +and my work-table close to the wall on my side, and sit there and work +while you drank your tea just on the other side; and I used to feel very +near to you then. I used to pass the whole evening that way." + +"And, yes--yes--I did too," she answered. "I used to make tea just at +that time and sit there for a whole hour." + +"And didn't you sit close to the partition on your side? Sometimes I +was sure of it. I could even fancy that I could hear your dress brushing +against the wall-paper close beside me. Didn't you sit close to the +partition?" + +"I--I don't know where I sat." + +Old Grannis shyly put out his hand and took hers as it lay upon her lap. + +"Didn't you sit close to the partition on your side?" he insisted. + +"No--I don't know--perhaps--sometimes. Oh, yes," she exclaimed, with a +little gasp, "Oh, yes, I often did." + +Then Old Grannis put his arm about her, and kissed her faded cheek, that +flushed to pink upon the instant. + +After that they spoke but little. The day lapsed slowly into twilight, +and the two old people sat there in the gray evening, quietly, quietly, +their hands in each other's hands, "keeping company," but now with +nothing to separate them. It had come at last. After all these years +they were together; they understood each other. They stood at length in +a little Elysium of their own creating. They walked hand in hand in +a delicious garden where it was always autumn. Far from the world +and together they entered upon the long retarded romance of their +commonplace and uneventful lives. + + + +CHAPTER 18 + + +That same night McTeague was awakened by a shrill scream, and woke +to find Trina's arms around his neck. She was trembling so that the +bed-springs creaked. + +"Huh?" cried the dentist, sitting up in bed, raising his clinched fists. +"Huh? What? What? What is it? What is it?" + +"Oh, Mac," gasped his wife, "I had such an awful dream. I dreamed about +Maria. I thought she was chasing me, and I couldn't run, and her throat +was--Oh, she was all covered with blood. Oh-h, I am so frightened!" + +Trina had borne up very well for the first day or so after the affair, +and had given her testimony to the coroner with far greater calmness +than Heise. It was only a week later that the horror of the thing came +upon her again. She was so nervous that she hardly dared to be alone in +the daytime, and almost every night woke with a cry of terror, trembling +with the recollection of some dreadful nightmare. The dentist was +irritated beyond all expression by her nervousness, and especially was +he exasperated when her cries woke him suddenly in the middle of the +night. He would sit up in bed, rolling his eyes wildly, throwing out +his huge fists--at what, he did not know--exclaiming, "What what--" +bewildered and hopelessly confused. Then when he realized that it was +only Trina, his anger kindled abruptly. + +"Oh, you and your dreams! You go to sleep, or I'll give you a dressing +down." Sometimes he would hit her a great thwack with his open palm, or +catch her hand and bite the tips of her fingers. Trina would lie awake +for hours afterward, crying softly to herself. Then, by and by, "Mac," +she would say timidly. + +"Huh?" + +"Mac, do you love me?" + +"Huh? What? Go to sleep." + +"Don't you love me any more, Mac?" + +"Oh, go to sleep. Don't bother me." + +"Well, do you LOVE me, Mac?" + +"I guess so." + +"Oh, Mac, I've only you now, and if you don't love me, what is going to +become of me?" + +"Shut up, an' let me go to sleep." + +"Well, just tell me that you love me." + +The dentist would turn abruptly away from her, burying his big blond +head in the pillow, and covering up his ears with the blankets. Then +Trina would sob herself to sleep. + +The dentist had long since given up looking for a job. Between breakfast +and supper time Trina saw but little of him. Once the morning meal over, +McTeague bestirred himself, put on his cap--he had given up wearing even +a hat since his wife had made him sell his silk hat--and went out. He +had fallen into the habit of taking long and solitary walks beyond the +suburbs of the city. Sometimes it was to the Cliff House, occasionally +to the Park (where he would sit on the sun-warmed benches, smoking his +pipe and reading ragged ends of old newspapers), but more often it was +to the Presidio Reservation. McTeague would walk out to the end of the +Union Street car line, entering the Reservation at the terminus, then +he would work down to the shore of the bay, follow the shore line to +the Old Fort at the Golden Gate, and, turning the Point here, come out +suddenly upon the full sweep of the Pacific. Then he would follow the +beach down to a certain point of rocks that he knew. Here he would turn +inland, climbing the bluffs to a rolling grassy down sown with blue iris +and a yellow flower that he did not know the name of. On the far side of +this down was a broad, well-kept road. McTeague would keep to this road +until he reached the city again by the way of the Sacramento Street car +line. The dentist loved these walks. He liked to be alone. He liked the +solitude of the tremendous, tumbling ocean; the fresh, windy downs; he +liked to feel the gusty Trades flogging his face, and he would remain +for hours watching the roll and plunge of the breakers with the silent, +unreasoned enjoyment of a child. All at once he developed a passion for +fishing. He would sit all day nearly motionless upon a point of rocks, +his fish-line between his fingers, happy if he caught three perch in +twelve hours. At noon he would retire to a bit of level turf around an +angle of the shore and cook his fish, eating them without salt or knife +or fork. He thrust a pointed stick down the mouth of the perch, and +turned it slowly over the blaze. When the grease stopped dripping, he +knew that it was done, and would devour it slowly and with tremendous +relish, picking the bones clean, eating even the head. He remembered +how often he used to do this sort of thing when he was a boy in the +mountains of Placer County, before he became a car-boy at the mine. The +dentist enjoyed himself hugely during these days. The instincts of the +old-time miner were returning. In the stress of his misfortune McTeague +was lapsing back to his early estate. + +One evening as he reached home after such a tramp, he was surprised to +find Trina standing in front of what had been Zerkow's house, looking at +it thoughtfully, her finger on her lips. + +"What you doing here'?" growled the dentist as he came up. There was a +"Rooms-to-let" sign on the street door of the house. + +"Now we've found a place to move to," exclaimed Trina. + +"What?" cried McTeague. "There, in that dirty house, where you found +Maria?" + +"I can't afford that room in the flat any more, now that you can't get +any work to do." + +"But there's where Zerkow killed Maria--the very house--an' you wake up +an' squeal in the night just thinking of it." + +"I know. I know it will be bad at first, but I'll get used to it, an' +it's just half again as cheap as where we are now. I was looking at a +room; we can have it dirt cheap. It's a back room over the kitchen. A +German family are going to take the front part of the house and sublet +the rest. I'm going to take it. It'll be money in my pocket." + +"But it won't be any in mine," vociferated the dentist, angrily. "I'll +have to live in that dirty rat hole just so's you can save money. I +ain't any the better off for it." + +"Find work to do, and then we'll talk," declared Trina. "I'M going to +save up some money against a rainy day; and if I can save more by living +here I'm going to do it, even if it is the house Maria was killed in. I +don't care." + +"All right," said McTeague, and did not make any further protest. His +wife looked at him surprised. She could not understand this sudden +acquiescence. Perhaps McTeague was so much away from home of late that +he had ceased to care where or how he lived. But this sudden change +troubled her a little for all that. + +The next day the McTeagues moved for a second time. It did not take them +long. They were obliged to buy the bed from the landlady, a circumstance +which nearly broke Trina's heart; and this bed, a couple of chairs, +Trina's trunk, an ornament or two, the oil stove, and some plates and +kitchen ware were all that they could call their own now; and this back +room in that wretched house with its grisly memories, the one window +looking out into a grimy maze of back yards and broken sheds, was what +they now knew as their home. + +The McTeagues now began to sink rapidly lower and lower. They became +accustomed to their surroundings. Worst of all, Trina lost her pretty +ways and her good looks. The combined effects of hard work, avarice, +poor food, and her husband's brutalities told on her swiftly. Her +charming little figure grew coarse, stunted, and dumpy. She who had once +been of a catlike neatness, now slovened all day about the room in +a dirty flannel wrapper, her slippers clap-clapping after her as she +walked. At last she even neglected her hair, the wonderful swarthy +tiara, the coiffure of a queen, that shaded her little pale forehead. +In the morning she braided it before it was half combed, and piled and +coiled it about her head in haphazard fashion. It came down half a dozen +times a day; by evening it was an unkempt, tangled mass, a veritable +rat's nest. + +Ah, no, it was not very gay, that life of hers, when one had to rustle +for two, cook and work and wash, to say nothing of paying the rent. What +odds was it if she was slatternly, dirty, coarse? Was there time to make +herself look otherwise, and who was there to be pleased when she was all +prinked out? Surely not a great brute of a husband who bit you like a +dog, and kicked and pounded you as though you were made of iron. Ah, no, +better let things go, and take it as easy as you could. Hump your back, +and it was soonest over. + +The one room grew abominably dirty, reeking with the odors of cooking +and of "non-poisonous" paint. The bed was not made until late in the +afternoon, sometimes not at all. Dirty, unwashed crockery, greasy +knives, sodden fragments of yesterday's meals cluttered the table, while +in one corner was the heap of evil-smelling, dirty linen. Cockroaches +appeared in the crevices of the woodwork, the wall-paper bulged from the +damp walls and began to peel. Trina had long ago ceased to dust or to +wipe the furniture with a bit of rag. The grime grew thick upon the +window panes and in the corners of the room. All the filth of the alley +invaded their quarters like a rising muddy tide. + +Between the windows, however, the faded photograph of the couple in +their wedding finery looked down upon the wretchedness, Trina still +holding her set bouquet straight before her, McTeague standing at her +side, his left foot forward, in the attitude of a Secretary of State; +while near by hung the canary, the one thing the dentist clung to +obstinately, piping and chittering all day in its little gilt prison. + +And the tooth, the gigantic golden molar of French gilt, enormous and +ungainly, sprawled its branching prongs in one corner of the room, by +the footboard of the bed. The McTeague's had come to use it as a sort +of substitute for a table. After breakfast and supper Trina piled the +plates and greasy dishes upon it to have them out of the way. + +One afternoon the Other Dentist, McTeague's old-time rival, the wearer +of marvellous waistcoats, was surprised out of all countenance to +receive a visit from McTeague. The Other Dentist was in his operating +room at the time, at work upon a plaster-of-paris mould. To his call +of "'Come right in. Don't you see the sign, 'Enter without knocking'?" +McTeague came in. He noted at once how airy and cheerful was the room. A +little fire coughed and tittered on the hearth, a brindled greyhound +sat on his haunches watching it intently, a great mirror over the mantle +offered to view an array of actresses' pictures thrust between the glass +and the frame, and a big bunch of freshly-cut violets stood in a glass +bowl on the polished cherrywood table. The Other Dentist came forward +briskly, exclaiming cheerfully: + +"Oh, Doctor--Mister McTeague, how do? how do?" + +The fellow was actually wearing a velvet smoking jacket. A cigarette +was between his lips; his patent leather boots reflected the firelight. +McTeague wore a black surah neglige shirt without a cravat; huge buckled +brogans, hob-nailed, gross, encased his feet; the hems of his trousers +were spotted with mud; his coat was frayed at the sleeves and a button +was gone. In three days he had not shaved; his shock of heavy blond hair +escaped from beneath the visor of his woollen cap and hung low over his +forehead. He stood with awkward, shifting feet and uncertain eyes before +the dapper young fellow who reeked of the barber shop, and whom he had +once ordered from his rooms. + +"What can I do for you this morning, Mister McTeague? Something wrong +with the teeth, eh?" + +"No, no." McTeague, floundering in the difficulties of his speech, +forgot the carefully rehearsed words with which he had intended to begin +this interview. + +"I want to sell you my sign," he said, stupidly. "That big tooth of +French gilt--YOU know--that you made an offer for once." + +"Oh, I don't want that now," said the other loftily. "I prefer a little +quiet signboard, nothing pretentious--just the name, and 'Dentist' after +it. These big signs are vulgar. No, I don't want it." + +McTeague remained, looking about on the floor, horribly embarrassed, not +knowing whether to go or to stay. + +"But I don't know," said the Other Dentist, reflectively. "If it will +help you out any--I guess you're pretty hard up--I'll--well, I tell you +what--I'll give you five dollars for it." + +"All right, all right." + +On the following Thursday morning McTeague woke to hear the eaves +dripping and the prolonged rattle of the rain upon the roof. + +"Raining," he growled, in deep disgust, sitting up in bed, and winking +at the blurred window. + +"It's been raining all night," said Trina. She was already up and +dressed, and was cooking breakfast on the oil stove. + +McTeague dressed himself, grumbling, "Well, I'll go, anyhow. The fish +will bite all the better for the rain." + +"Look here, Mac," said Trina, slicing a bit of bacon as thinly as she +could. "Look here, why don't you bring some of your fish home sometime?" + +"Huh!" snorted the dentist, "so's we could have 'em for breakfast. Might +save you a nickel, mightn't it?" + +"Well, and if it did! Or you might fish for the market. The fisherman +across the street would buy 'em of you." + +"Shut up!" exclaimed the dentist, and Trina obediently subsided. + +"Look here," continued her husband, fumbling in his trousers pocket +and bringing out a dollar, "I'm sick and tired of coffee and bacon and +mashed potatoes. Go over to the market and get some kind of meat for +breakfast. Get a steak, or chops, or something. + +"Why, Mac, that's a whole dollar, and he only gave you five for your +sign. We can't afford it. Sure, Mac. Let me put that money away against +a rainy day. You're just as well off without meat for breakfast." + +"You do as I tell you. Get some steak, or chops, or something." + +"Please, Mac, dear." + +"Go on, now. I'll bite your fingers again pretty soon." + +"But----" + +The dentist took a step towards her, snatching at her hand. + +"All right, I'll go," cried Trina, wincing and shrinking. "I'll go." + +She did not get the chops at the big market, however. Instead, she +hurried to a cheaper butcher shop on a side street two blocks away, and +bought fifteen cents' worth of chops from a side of mutton some two or +three days old. She was gone some little time. + +"Give me the change," exclaimed the dentist as soon as she returned. +Trina handed him a quarter; and when McTeague was about to protest, +broke in upon him with a rapid stream of talk that confused him upon +the instant. But for that matter, it was never difficult for Trina to +deceive the dentist. He never went to the bottom of things. He would +have believed her if she had told him the chops had cost a dollar. + +"There's sixty cents saved, anyhow," thought Trina, as she clutched the +money in her pocket to keep it from rattling. + +Trina cooked the chops, and they breakfasted in silence. "Now," said +McTeague as he rose, wiping the coffee from his thick mustache with the +hollow of his palm, "now I'm going fishing, rain or no rain. I'm going +to be gone all day." + +He stood for a moment at the door, his fish-line in his hand, swinging +the heavy sinker back and forth. He looked at Trina as she cleared away +the breakfast things. + +"So long," said he, nodding his huge square-cut head. This amiability +in the matter of leave taking was unusual. Trina put the dishes down and +came up to him, her little chin, once so adorable, in the air: + +"Kiss me good-by, Mac," she said, putting her arms around his neck. "You +DO love me a little yet, don't you, Mac? We'll be happy again some day. +This is hard times now, but we'll pull out. You'll find something to do +pretty soon." + +"I guess so," growled McTeague, allowing her to kiss him. + +The canary was stirring nimbly in its cage, and just now broke out into +a shrill trilling, its little throat bulging and quivering. The dentist +stared at it. "Say," he remarked slowly, "I think I'll take that bird of +mine along." + +"Sell it?" inquired Trina. + +"Yes, yes, sell it." + +"Well, you ARE coming to your senses at last," answered Trina, +approvingly. "But don't you let the bird-store man cheat you. That's a +good songster; and with the cage, you ought to make him give you five +dollars. You stick out for that at first, anyhow." + +McTeague unhooked the cage and carefully wrapped it in an old newspaper, +remarking, "He might get cold. Well, so long," he repeated, "so long." + +"Good-by, Mac." + +When he was gone, Trina took the sixty cents she had stolen from him out +of her pocket and recounted it. "It's sixty cents, all right," she said +proudly. "But I DO believe that dime is too smooth." She looked at it +critically. The clock on the power-house of the Sutter Street cable +struck eight. "Eight o'clock already," she exclaimed. "I must get to +work." She cleared the breakfast things from the table, and drawing up +her chair and her workbox began painting the sets of Noah's ark animals +she had whittled the day before. She worked steadily all the morning. +At noon she lunched, warming over the coffee left from breakfast, and +frying a couple of sausages. By one she was bending over her table +again. Her fingers--some of them lacerated by McTeague's teeth--flew, +and the little pile of cheap toys in the basket at her elbow grew +steadily. + +"Where DO all the toys go to?" she murmured. "The thousands and +thousands of these Noah's arks that I have made--horses and chickens and +elephants--and always there never seems to be enough. It's a good thing +for me that children break their things, and that they all have to have +birthdays and Christmases." She dipped her brush into a pot of Vandyke +brown and painted one of the whittled toy horses in two strokes. Then a +touch of ivory black with a small flat brush created the tail and mane, +and dots of Chinese white made the eyes. The turpentine in the paint +dried it almost immediately, and she tossed the completed little horse +into the basket. + +At six o'clock the dentist had not returned. Trina waited until seven, +and then put her work away, and ate her supper alone. + +"I wonder what's keeping Mac," she exclaimed as the clock from the +power-house on Sutter Street struck half-past seven. "I KNOW he's +drinking somewhere," she cried, apprehensively. "He had the money from +his sign with him." + +At eight o'clock she threw a shawl over her head and went over to the +harness shop. If anybody would know where McTeague was it would be +Heise. But the harness-maker had seen nothing of him since the day +before. + +"He was in here yesterday afternoon, and we had a drink or two at +Frenna's. Maybe he's been in there to-day." + +"Oh, won't you go in and see?" said Trina. "Mac always came home to his +supper--he never likes to miss his meals--and I'm getting frightened +about him." + +Heise went into the barroom next door, and returned with no definite +news. Frenna had not seen the dentist since he had come in with the +harness-maker the previous afternoon. Trina even humbled herself to ask +of the Ryers--with whom they had quarrelled--if they knew anything of +the dentist's whereabouts, but received a contemptuous negative. + +"Maybe he's come in while I've been out," said Trina to herself. She +went down Polk Street again, going towards the flat. The rain had +stopped, but the sidewalks were still glistening. The cable cars +trundled by, loaded with theatregoers. The barbers were just closing +their shops. The candy store on the corner was brilliantly lighted and +was filling up, while the green and yellow lamps from the drug store +directly opposite threw kaleidoscopic reflections deep down into the +shining surface of the asphalt. A band of Salvationists began to play +and pray in front of Frenna's saloon. Trina hurried on down the gay +street, with its evening's brilliancy and small activities, her shawl +over her head, one hand lifting her faded skirt from off the wet +pavements. She turned into the alley, entered Zerkow's old home by the +ever-open door, and ran up-stairs to the room. Nobody. + +"Why, isn't this FUNNY," she exclaimed, half aloud, standing on the +threshold, her little milk-white forehead curdling to a frown, one sore +finger on her lips. Then a great fear seized upon her. Inevitably she +associated the house with a scene of violent death. + +"No, no," she said to the darkness, "Mac is all right. HE can take +care of himself." But for all that she had a clear-cut vision of her +husband's body, bloated with seawater, his blond hair streaming like +kelp, rolling inertly in shifting waters. + +"He couldn't have fallen off the rocks," she declared firmly. +"There--THERE he is now." She heaved a great sigh of relief as a heavy +tread sounded in the hallway below. She ran to the banisters, looking +over, and calling, "Oh, Mac! Is that you, Mac?" It was the German whose +family occupied the lower floor. The power-house clock struck nine. + +"My God, where is Mac?" cried Trina, stamping her foot. + +She put the shawl over her head again, and went out and stood on the +corner of the alley and Polk Street, watching and waiting, craning her +neck to see down the street. Once, even, she went out upon the sidewalk +in front of the flat and sat down for a moment upon the horse-block +there. She could not help remembering the day when she had been driven +up to that horse-block in a hack. Her mother and father and Owgooste and +the twins were with her. It was her wedding day. Her wedding dress was +in a huge tin trunk on the driver's seat. She had never been happier +before in all her life. She remembered how she got out of the hack +and stood for a moment upon the horse-block, looking up at McTeague's +windows. She had caught a glimpse of him at his shaving, the lather +still on his cheek, and they had waved their hands at each other. +Instinctively Trina looked up at the flat behind her; looked up at the +bay window where her husband's "Dental Parlors" had been. It was all +dark; the windows had the blind, sightless appearance imparted by +vacant, untenanted rooms. A rusty iron rod projected mournfully from one +of the window ledges. + +"There's where our sign hung once," said Trina. She turned her head and +looked down Polk Street towards where the Other Dentist had his rooms, +and there, overhanging the street from his window, newly furbished and +brightened, hung the huge tooth, her birthday present to her husband, +flashing and glowing in the white glare of the electric lights like a +beacon of defiance and triumph. + +"Ah, no; ah, no," whispered Trina, choking back a sob. "Life isn't so +gay. But I wouldn't mind, no I wouldn't mind anything, if only Mac was +home all right." She got up from the horse-block and stood again on the +corner of the alley, watching and listening. + +It grew later. The hours passed. Trina kept at her post. The noise of +approaching footfalls grew less and less frequent. Little by little +Polk Street dropped back into solitude. Eleven o'clock struck from the +power-house clock; lights were extinguished; at one o'clock the cable +stopped, leaving an abrupt and numbing silence in the air. All at once +it seemed very still. The only noises were the occasional footfalls of +a policeman and the persistent calling of ducks and geese in the closed +market across the way. The street was asleep. + +When it is night and dark, and one is awake and alone, one's thoughts +take the color of the surroundings; become gloomy, sombre, and very +dismal. All at once an idea came to Trina, a dark, terrible idea; worse, +even, than the idea of McTeague's death. + +"Oh, no," she cried. "Oh, no. It isn't true. But suppose--suppose." + +She left her post and hurried back to the house. + +"No, no," she was saying under her breath, "it isn't possible. +Maybe he's even come home already by another way. But +suppose--suppose--suppose." + +She ran up the stairs, opened the door of the room, and paused, out of +breath. The room was dark and empty. With cold, trembling fingers she +lighted the lamp, and, turning about, looked at her trunk. The lock was +burst. + +"No, no, no," cried Trina, "it's not true; it's not true." She dropped +on her knees before the trunk, and tossed back the lid, and plunged +her hands down into the corner underneath her wedding dress, where she +always kept the savings. The brass match-safe and the chamois-skin bag +were there. They were empty. + +Trina flung herself full length upon the floor, burying her face in her +arms, rolling her head from side to side. Her voice rose to a wail. + +"No, no, no, it's not true; it's not true; it's not true. Oh, he +couldn't have done it. Oh, how could he have done it? All my money, all +my little savings--and deserted me. He's gone, my money's gone, my dear +money--my dear, dear gold pieces that I've worked so hard for. Oh, to +have deserted me--gone for good--gone and never coming back--gone with +my gold pieces. Gone-gone--gone. I'll never see them again, and I've +worked so hard, so so hard for him--for them. No, no, NO, it's not true. +It IS true. What will become of me now? Oh, if you'll only come back you +can have all the money--half of it. Oh, give me back my money. Give me +back my money, and I'll forgive you. You can leave me then if you want +to. Oh, my money. Mac, Mac, you've gone for good. You don't love me any +more, and now I'm a beggar. My money's gone, my husband's gone, gone, +gone, gone!" + +Her grief was terrible. She dug her nails into her scalp, and clutching +the heavy coils of her thick black hair tore it again and again. She +struck her forehead with her clenched fists. Her little body shook from +head to foot with the violence of her sobbing. She ground her small +teeth together and beat her head upon the floor with all her strength. + +Her hair was uncoiled and hanging a tangled, dishevelled mass far below +her waist; her dress was torn; a spot of blood was upon her forehead; +her eyes were swollen; her cheeks flamed vermilion from the fever that +raged in her veins. Old Miss Baker found her thus towards five o'clock +the next morning. + +What had happened between one o'clock and dawn of that fearful night +Trina never remembered. She could only recall herself, as in a picture, +kneeling before her broken and rifled trunk, and then--weeks later, so +it seemed to her--she woke to find herself in her own bed with an iced +bandage about her forehead and the little old dressmaker at her side, +stroking her hot, dry palm. + +The facts of the matter were that the German woman who lived below +had been awakened some hours after midnight by the sounds of Trina's +weeping. She had come upstairs and into the room to find Trina stretched +face downward upon the floor, half-conscious and sobbing, in the throes +of an hysteria for which there was no relief. The woman, terrified, had +called her husband, and between them they had got Trina upon the bed. +Then the German woman happened to remember that Trina had friends in +the big flat near by, and had sent her husband to fetch the retired +dressmaker, while she herself remained behind to undress Trina and put +her to bed. Miss Baker had come over at once, and began to cry herself +at the sight of the dentist's poor little wife. She did not stop to ask +what the trouble was, and indeed it would have been useless to attempt +to get any coherent explanation from Trina at that time. Miss Baker +had sent the German woman's husband to get some ice at one of the +"all-night" restaurants of the street; had kept cold, wet towels on +Trina's head; had combed and recombed her wonderful thick hair; and had +sat down by the side of the bed, holding her hot hand, with its poor +maimed fingers, waiting patiently until Trina should be able to speak. + +Towards morning Trina awoke--or perhaps it was a mere regaining of +consciousness--looked a moment at Miss Baker, then about the room until +her eyes fell upon her trunk with its broken lock. Then she turned over +upon the pillow and began to sob again. She refused to answer any of +the little dressmaker's questions, shaking her head violently, her face +hidden in the pillow. + +By breakfast time her fever had increased to such a point that Miss +Baker took matters into her own hands and had the German woman call +a doctor. He arrived some twenty minutes later. He was a big, kindly +fellow who lived over the drug store on the corner. He had a deep voice +and a tremendous striding gait less suggestive of a physician than of a +sergeant of a cavalry troop. + +By the time of his arrival little Miss Baker had divined intuitively +the entire trouble. She heard the doctor's swinging tramp in the entry +below, and heard the German woman saying: + +"Righd oop der stairs, at der back of der halle. Der room mit der door +oppen." + +Miss Baker met the doctor at the landing, she told him in a whisper of +the trouble. + +"Her husband's deserted her, I'm afraid, doctor, and took all of her +money--a good deal of it. It's about killed the poor child. She was out +of her head a good deal of the night, and now she's got a raging fever." + +The doctor and Miss Baker returned to the room and entered, closing the +door. The big doctor stood for a moment looking down at Trina rolling +her head from side to side upon the pillow, her face scarlet, her +enormous mane of hair spread out on either side of her. The little +dressmaker remained at his elbow, looking from him to Trina. + +"Poor little woman!" said the doctor; "poor little woman!" + +Miss Baker pointed to the trunk, whispering: + +"See, there's where she kept her savings. See, he broke the lock." + +"Well, Mrs. McTeague," said the doctor, sitting down by the bed, and +taking Trina's wrist, "a little fever, eh?" + +Trina opened her eyes and looked at him, and then at Miss Baker. She did +not seem in the least surprised at the unfamiliar faces. She appeared to +consider it all as a matter of course. + +"Yes," she said, with a long, tremulous breath, "I have a fever, and my +head--my head aches and aches." + +The doctor prescribed rest and mild opiates. Then his eye fell upon the +fingers of Trina's right hand. He looked at them sharply. A deep +red glow, unmistakable to a physician's eyes, was upon some of them, +extending from the finger tips up to the second knuckle. + +"Hello," he exclaimed, "what's the matter here?" In fact something was +very wrong indeed. For days Trina had noticed it. The fingers of her +right hand had swollen as never before, aching and discolored. Cruelly +lacerated by McTeague's brutality as they were, she had nevertheless +gone on about her work on the Noah's ark animals, constantly in contact +with the "non-poisonous" paint. She told as much to the doctor in answer +to his questions. He shook his head with an exclamation. + +"Why, this is blood-poisoning, you know," he told her; "the worst kind. +You'll have to have those fingers amputated, beyond a doubt, or lose the +entire hand--or even worse." + +"And my work!" exclaimed Trina. + + + +CHAPTER 19 + + +One can hold a scrubbing-brush with two good fingers and the stumps +of two others even if both joints of the thumb are gone, but it takes +considerable practice to get used to it. + +Trina became a scrub-woman. She had taken council of Selina, and +through her had obtained the position of caretaker in a little memorial +kindergarten over on Pacific Street. Like Polk Street, it was an +accommodation street, but running through a much poorer and more sordid +quarter. Trina had a little room over the kindergarten schoolroom. It +was not an unpleasant room. It looked out upon a sunny little court +floored with boards and used as the children's playground. Two great +cherry trees grew here, the leaves almost brushing against the window of +Trina's room and filtering the sunlight so that it fell in round golden +spots upon the floor of the room. "Like gold pieces," Trina said to +herself. + +Trina's work consisted in taking care of the kindergarten rooms, +scrubbing the floors, washing the windows, dusting and airing, and +carrying out the ashes. Besides this she earned some five dollars a +month by washing down the front steps of some big flats on Washington +Street, and by cleaning out vacant houses after the tenants had left. +She saw no one. Nobody knew her. She went about her work from dawn to +dark, and often entire days passed when she did not hear the sound of +her own voice. She was alone, a solitary, abandoned woman, lost in the +lowest eddies of the great city's tide--the tide that always ebbs. + +When Trina had been discharged from the hospital after the operation on +her fingers, she found herself alone in the world, alone with her five +thousand dollars. The interest of this would support her, and yet allow +her to save a little. + +But for a time Trina had thought of giving up the fight altogether and +of joining her family in the southern part of the State. But even while +she hesitated about this she received a long letter from her mother, an +answer to one she herself had written just before the amputation of her +right-hand fingers--the last letter she would ever be able to write. +Mrs. Sieppe's letter was one long lamentation; she had her own +misfortunes to bewail as well as those of her daughter. The +carpet-cleaning and upholstery business had failed. Mr. Sieppe and +Owgooste had left for New Zealand with a colonization company, whither +Mrs. Sieppe and the twins were to follow them as soon as the colony +established itself. So far from helping Trina in her ill fortune, it +was she, her mother, who might some day in the near future be obliged to +turn to Trina for aid. So Trina had given up the idea of any help from +her family. For that matter she needed none. She still had her five +thousand, and Uncle Oelbermann paid her the interest with a machine-like +regularity. Now that McTeague had left her, there was one less mouth to +feed; and with this saving, together with the little she could earn as +scrub-woman, Trina could almost manage to make good the amount she lost +by being obliged to cease work upon the Noah's ark animals. + +Little by little her sorrow over the loss of her precious savings +overcame the grief of McTeague's desertion of her. Her avarice had grown +to be her one dominant passion; her love of money for the money's +sake brooded in her heart, driving out by degrees every other natural +affection. She grew thin and meagre; her flesh clove tight to her small +skeleton; her small pale mouth and little uplifted chin grew to have a +certain feline eagerness of expression; her long, narrow eyes glistened +continually, as if they caught and held the glint of metal. One day as +she sat in her room, the empty brass match-box and the limp chamois bag +in her hands, she suddenly exclaimed: + +"I could have forgiven him if he had only gone away and left me my +money. I could have--yes, I could have forgiven him even THIS"--she +looked at the stumps of her fingers. "But now," her teeth closed +tight and her eyes flashed, + +"now--I'll--never--forgive--him--as-long--as--I--live." + +The empty bag and the hollow, light match-box troubled her. Day after +day she took them from her trunk and wept over them as other women weep +over a dead baby's shoe. Her four hundred dollars were gone, were gone, +were gone. She would never see them again. She could plainly see her +husband spending her savings by handfuls; squandering her beautiful gold +pieces that she had been at such pains to polish with soap and ashes. +The thought filled her with an unspeakable anguish. She would wake at +night from a dream of McTeague revelling down her money, and ask of the +darkness, "How much did he spend to-day? How many of the gold pieces are +left? Has he broken either of the two twenty-dollar pieces yet? What did +he spend it for?" + +The instant she was out of the hospital Trina had begun to save again, +but now it was with an eagerness that amounted at times to a veritable +frenzy. She even denied herself lights and fuel in order to put by a +quarter or so, grudging every penny she was obliged to spend. She did +her own washing and cooking. Finally she sold her wedding dress, that +had hitherto lain in the bottom of her trunk. + +The day she moved from Zerkow's old house, she came suddenly upon the +dentist's concertina under a heap of old clothes in the closet. Within +twenty minutes she had sold it to the dealer in second-hand furniture, +returning to her room with seven dollars in her pocket, happy for the +first time since McTeague had left her. + +But for all that the match-box and the bag refused to fill up; after +three weeks of the most rigid economy they contained but eighteen +dollars and some small change. What was that compared with four hundred? +Trina told herself that she must have her money in hand. She longed to +see again the heap of it upon her work-table, where she could plunge her +hands into it, her face into it, feeling the cool, smooth metal upon her +cheeks. At such moments she would see in her imagination her wonderful +five thousand dollars piled in columns, shining and gleaming somewhere +at the bottom of Uncle Oelbermann's vault. She would look at the +paper that Uncle Oelbermann had given her, and tell herself that it +represented five thousand dollars. But in the end this ceased to satisfy +her, she must have the money itself. She must have her four hundred +dollars back again, there in her trunk, in her bag and her match-box, +where she could touch it and see it whenever she desired. + +At length she could stand it no longer, and one day presented herself +before Uncle Oelbermann as he sat in his office in the wholesale toy +store, and told him she wanted to have four hundred dollars of her +money. + +"But this is very irregular, you know, Mrs. McTeague," said the great +man. "Not business-like at all." + +But his niece's misfortunes and the sight of her poor maimed hand +appealed to him. He opened his check-book. "You understand, of course," +he said, "that this will reduce the amount of your interest by just so +much." + +"I know, I know. I've thought of that," said Trina. + +"Four hundred, did you say?" remarked Uncle Oelbermann, taking the cap +from his fountain pen. + +"Yes, four hundred," exclaimed Trina, quickly, her eyes glistening. + +Trina cashed the check and returned home with the money--all in +twenty-dollar pieces as she had desired--in an ecstasy of delight. For +half of that night she sat up playing with her money, counting it and +recounting it, polishing the duller pieces until they shone. Altogether +there were twenty twenty-dollar gold pieces. + +"Oh-h, you beauties!" murmured Trina, running her palms over them, +fairly quivering with pleasure. "You beauties! IS there anything +prettier than a twenty-dollar gold piece? You dear, dear money! Oh, +don't I LOVE you! Mine, mine, mine--all of you mine." + +She laid them out in a row on the ledge of the table, or arranged them +in patterns--triangles, circles, and squares--or built them all up into +a pyramid which she afterward overthrew for the sake of hearing the +delicious clink of the pieces tumbling against each other. Then at last +she put them away in the brass match-box and chamois bag, delighted +beyond words that they were once more full and heavy. + +Then, a few days after, the thought of the money still remaining in +Uncle Oelbermann's keeping returned to her. It was hers, all hers--all +that four thousand six hundred. She could have as much of it or as +little of it as she chose. She only had to ask. For a week Trina +resisted, knowing very well that taking from her capital was +proportionately reducing her monthly income. Then at last she yielded. + +"Just to make it an even five hundred, anyhow," she told herself. That +day she drew a hundred dollars more, in twenty-dollar gold pieces as +before. From that time Trina began to draw steadily upon her capital, a +little at a time. It was a passion with her, a mania, a veritable mental +disease; a temptation such as drunkards only know. + +It would come upon her all of a sudden. While she was about her work, +scrubbing the floor of some vacant house; or in her room, in the +morning, as she made her coffee on the oil stove, or when she woke in +the night, a brusque access of cupidity would seize upon her. Her cheeks +flushed, her eyes glistened, her breath came short. At times she would +leave her work just as it was, put on her old bonnet of black straw, +throw her shawl about her, and go straight to Uncle Oelbermann's store +and draw against her money. Now it would be a hundred dollars, now +sixty; now she would content herself with only twenty; and once, after a +fortnight's abstinence, she permitted herself a positive debauch of five +hundred. Little by little she drew her capital from Uncle Oelbermann, +and little by little her original interest of twenty-five dollars a +month dwindled. + +One day she presented herself again in the office of the whole-sale toy +store. + +"Will you let me have a check for two hundred dollars, Uncle +Oelbermann?" she said. + +The great man laid down his fountain pen and leaned back in his swivel +chair with great deliberation. + +"I don't understand, Mrs. McTeague," he said. "Every week you come here +and draw out a little of your money. I've told you that it is not at all +regular or business-like for me to let you have it this way. And more +than this, it's a great inconvenience to me to give you these checks at +unstated times. If you wish to draw out the whole amount let's have some +understanding. Draw it in monthly installments of, say, five hundred +dollars, or else," he added, abruptly, "draw it all at once, now, +to-day. I would even prefer it that way. Otherwise it's--it's annoying. +Come, shall I draw you a check for thirty-seven hundred, and have it +over and done with?" + +"No, no," cried Trina, with instinctive apprehension, refusing, she did +not know why. "No, I'll leave it with you. I won't draw out any more." + +She took her departure, but paused on the pavement outside the store, +and stood for a moment lost in thought, her eyes beginning to glisten +and her breath coming short. Slowly she turned about and reentered the +store; she came back into the office, and stood trembling at the corner +of Uncle Oelbermann's desk. He looked up sharply. Twice Trina tried to +get her voice, and when it did come to her, she could hardly recognize +it. Between breaths she said: + +"Yes, all right--I'll--you can give me--will you give me a check for +thirty-seven hundred? Give me ALL of my money." + +A few hours later she entered her little room over the kindergarten, +bolted the door with shaking fingers, and emptied a heavy canvas sack +upon the middle of her bed. Then she opened her trunk, and taking thence +the brass match-box and chamois-skin bag added their contents to the +pile. Next she laid herself upon the bed and gathered the gleaming heaps +of gold pieces to her with both arms, burying her face in them with long +sighs of unspeakable delight. + +It was a little past noon, and the day was fine and warm. The leaves +of the huge cherry trees threw off a certain pungent aroma that entered +through the open window, together with long thin shafts of golden +sunlight. Below, in the kindergarten, the children were singing gayly +and marching to the jangling of the piano. Trina heard nothing, saw +nothing. She lay on her bed, her eyes closed, her face buried in a pile +of gold that she encircled with both her arms. + +Trina even told herself at last that she was happy once more. McTeague +became a memory--a memory that faded a little every day--dim and +indistinct in the golden splendor of five thousand dollars. + +"And yet," Trina would say, "I did love Mac, loved him dearly, only a +little while ago. Even when he hurt me, it only made me love him more. +How is it I've changed so sudden? How COULD I forget him so soon? It +must be because he stole my money. That is it. I couldn't forgive anyone +that--no, not even my MOTHER. And I never--never--will forgive him." + +What had become of her husband Trina did not know. She never saw any of +the old Polk Street people. There was no way she could have news of him, +even if she had cared to have it. She had her money, that was the main +thing. Her passion for it excluded every other sentiment. There it was +in the bottom of her trunk, in the canvas sack, the chamois-skin bag, +and the little brass match-safe. Not a day passed that Trina did not +have it out where she could see and touch it. One evening she had even +spread all the gold pieces between the sheets, and had then gone to +bed, stripping herself, and had slept all night upon the money, taking a +strange and ecstatic pleasure in the touch of the smooth flat pieces the +length of her entire body. + +One night, some three months after she had come to live at the +kindergarten, Trina was awakened by a sharp tap on the pane of the +window. She sat up quickly in bed, her heart beating thickly, her eyes +rolling wildly in the direction of her trunk. The tap was repeated. +Trina rose and went fearfully to the window. The little court below +was bright with moonlight, and standing just on the edge of the shadow +thrown by one of the cherry trees was McTeague. A bunch of half-ripe +cherries was in his hand. He was eating them and throwing the pits at +the window. As he caught sight of her, he made an eager sign for her to +raise the sash. Reluctant and wondering, Trina obeyed, and the dentist +came quickly forward. He was wearing a pair of blue overalls; +a navy-blue flannel shirt without a cravat; an old coat, faded, +rain-washed, and ripped at the seams; and his woollen cap. + +"Say, Trina," he exclaimed, his heavy bass voice pitched just above +a whisper, "let me in, will you, huh? Say, will you? I'm regularly +starving, and I haven't slept in a Christian bed for two weeks." + +At sight at him standing there in the moonlight, Trina could only think +of him as the man who had beaten and bitten her, had deserted her and +stolen her money, had made her suffer as she had never suffered before +in all her life. Now that he had spent the money that he had stolen from +her, he was whining to come back--so that he might steal more, no doubt. +Once in her room he could not help but smell out her five thousand +dollars. Her indignation rose. + +"No," she whispered back at him. "No, I will not let you in." + +"But listen here, Trina, I tell you I am starving, regularly----" + +"Hoh!" interrupted Trina scornfully. "A man can't starve with four +hundred dollars, I guess." + +"Well--well--I--well--" faltered the dentist. "Never mind now. Give me +something to eat, an' let me in an' sleep. I've been sleeping in the +Plaza for the last ten nights, and say, I--Damn it, Trina, I ain't had +anything to eat since--" + +"Where's the four hundred dollars you robbed me of when you deserted +me?" returned Trina, coldly. + +"Well, I've spent it," growled the dentist. "But you CAN'T see me +starve, Trina, no matter what's happened. Give me a little money, then." + +"I'll see you starve before you get any more of MY money." + +The dentist stepped back a pace and stared up at her wonder-stricken. +His face was lean and pinched. Never had the jaw bone looked so +enormous, nor the square-cut head so huge. The moonlight made deep black +shadows in the shrunken cheeks. + +"Huh?" asked the dentist, puzzled. "What did you say?" + +"I won't give you any money--never again--not a cent." + +"But do you know that I'm hungry?" + +"Well, I've been hungry myself. Besides, I DON'T believe you." + +"Trina, I ain't had a thing to eat since yesterday morning; that's God's +truth. Even if I did get off with your money, you CAN'T see me starve, +can you? You can't see me walk the streets all night because I ain't got +a place to sleep. Will you let me in? Say, will you? Huh?" + +"No." + +"Well, will you give me some money then--just a little? Give me a +dollar. Give me half a dol--Say, give me a DIME, an' I can get a cup of +coffee." + +"No." + +The dentist paused and looked at her with curious intentness, +bewildered, nonplussed. + +"Say, you--you must be crazy, Trina. I--I--wouldn't let a DOG go +hungry." + +"Not even if he'd bitten you, perhaps." + +The dentist stared again. + +There was another pause. McTeague looked up at her in silence, a +mean and vicious twinkle coming into his small eyes. He uttered a low +exclamation, and then checked himself. + +"Well, look here, for the last time. I'm starving. I've got nowhere to +sleep. Will you give me some money, or something to eat? Will you let me +in?" + +"No--no--no." + +Trina could fancy she almost saw the brassy glint in her husband's eyes. +He raised one enormous lean fist. Then he growled: + +"If I had hold of you for a minute, by God, I'd make you dance. An' I +will yet, I will yet. Don't you be afraid of that." + +He turned about, the moonlight showing like a layer of snow upon his +massive shoulders. Trina watched him as he passed under the shadow of +the cherry trees and crossed the little court. She heard his great feet +grinding on the board flooring. He disappeared. + +Miser though she was, Trina was only human, and the echo of the +dentist's heavy feet had not died away before she began to be sorry for +what she had done. She stood by the open window in her nightgown, her +finger upon her lips. + +"He did looked pinched," she said half aloud. "Maybe he WAS hungry. I +ought to have given him something. I wish I had, I WISH I had. Oh," she +cried, suddenly, with a frightened gesture of both hands, "what have I +come to be that I would see Mac--my husband--that I would see him starve +rather than give him money? No, no. It's too dreadful. I WILL give him +some. I'll send it to him to-morrow. Where?--well, he'll come back." +She leaned from the window and called as loudly as she dared, "Mac, oh, +Mac." There was no answer. + +When McTeague had told Trina he had been without food for nearly two +days he was speaking the truth. The week before he had spent the last of +the four hundred dollars in the bar of a sailor's lodging-house near +the water front, and since that time had lived a veritable hand-to-mouth +existence. + +He had spent her money here and there about the city in royal fashion, +absolutely reckless of the morrow, feasting and drinking for the most +part with companions he picked up heaven knows where, acquaintances of +twenty-four hours, whose names he forgot in two days. Then suddenly he +found himself at the end of his money. He no longer had any friends. +Hunger rode him and rowelled him. He was no longer well fed, +comfortable. There was no longer a warm place for him to sleep. He went +back to Polk Street in the evening, walking on the dark side of the +street, lurking in the shadows, ashamed to have any of his old-time +friends see him. He entered Zerkow's old house and knocked at the door +of the room Trina and he had occupied. It was empty. + +Next day he went to Uncle Oelbermann's store and asked news of Trina. +Trina had not told Uncle Oelbermann of McTeague's brutalities, giving +him other reasons to explain the loss of her fingers; neither had she +told him of her husband's robbery. So when the dentist had asked where +Trina could be found, Uncle Oelbermann, believing that McTeague was +seeking a reconciliation, had told him without hesitation, and, he +added: + +"She was in here only yesterday and drew out the balance of her money. +She's been drawing against her money for the last month or so. She's got +it all now, I guess." + +"Ah, she's got it all." + +The dentist went away from his bootless visit to his wife shaking with +rage, hating her with all the strength of a crude and primitive nature. +He clenched his fists till his knuckles whitened, his teeth ground +furiously upon one another. + +"Ah, if I had hold of you once, I'd make you dance. She had five +thousand dollars in that room, while I stood there, not twenty feet +away, and told her I was starving, and she wouldn't give me a dime to +get a cup of coffee with; not a dime to get a cup of coffee. Oh, if I +once get my hands on you!" His wrath strangled him. He clutched at the +darkness in front of him, his breath fairly whistling between his teeth. + +That night he walked the streets until the morning, wondering what now +he was to do to fight the wolf away. The morning of the next day towards +ten o'clock he was on Kearney Street, still walking, still tramping the +streets, since there was nothing else for him to do. By and by he +paused on a corner near a music store, finding a momentary amusement in +watching two or three men loading a piano upon a dray. Already half +its weight was supported by the dray's backboard. One of the men, a +big mulatto, almost hidden under the mass of glistening rosewood, was +guiding its course, while the other two heaved and tugged in the rear. +Something in the street frightened the horses and they shied abruptly. +The end of the piano was twitched sharply from the backboard. There was +a cry, the mulatto staggered and fell with the falling piano, and its +weight dropped squarely upon his thigh, which broke with a resounding +crack. + +An hour later McTeague had found his job. The music store engaged him as +handler at six dollars a week. McTeague's enormous strength, useless all +his life, stood him in good stead at last. + +He slept in a tiny back room opening from the storeroom of the music +store. He was in some sense a watchman as well as handler, and went the +rounds of the store twice every night. His room was a box of a place +that reeked with odors of stale tobacco smoke. The former occupant had +papered the walls with newspapers and had pasted up figures cut out +from the posters of some Kiralfy ballet, very gaudy. By the one window, +chittering all day in its little gilt prison, hung the canary bird, a +tiny atom of life that McTeague still clung to with a strange obstinacy. + +McTeague drank a good deal of whiskey in these days, but the only effect +it had upon him was to increase the viciousness and bad temper that had +developed in him since the beginning of his misfortunes. He terrorized +his fellow-handlers, powerful men though they were. For a gruff word, +for an awkward movement in lading the pianos, for a surly look or a +muttered oath, the dentist's elbow would crook and his hand contract to +a mallet-like fist. As often as not the blow followed, colossal in its +force, swift as the leap of the piston from its cylinder. + +His hatred of Trina increased from day to day. He'd make her dance yet. +Wait only till he got his hands upon her. She'd let him starve, would +she? She'd turn him out of doors while she hid her five thousand dollars +in the bottom of her trunk. Aha, he would see about that some day. She +couldn't make small of him. Ah, no. She'd dance all right--all right. +McTeague was not an imaginative man by nature, but he would lie awake +nights, his clumsy wits galloping and frisking under the lash of the +alcohol, and fancy himself thrashing his wife, till a sudden frenzy of +rage would overcome him, and he would shake all over, rolling upon the +bed and biting the mattress. + +On a certain day, about a week after Christmas of that year, McTeague +was on one of the top floors of the music store, where the second-hand +instruments were kept, helping to move about and rearrange some old +pianos. As he passed by one of the counters he paused abruptly, his eye +caught by an object that was strangely familiar. + +"Say," he inquired, addressing the clerk in charge, "say, where'd this +come from?" + +"Why, let's see. We got that from a second-hand store up on Polk Street, +I guess. It's a fairly good machine; a little tinkering with the stops +and a bit of shellac, and we'll make it about's good as new. Good +tone. See." And the clerk drew a long, sonorous wail from the depths of +McTeague's old concertina. + +"Well, it's mine," growled the dentist. + +The other laughed. "It's yours for eleven dollars." + +"It's mine," persisted McTeague. "I want it." + +"Go 'long with you, Mac. What do you mean?" + +"I mean that it's mine, that's what I mean. You got no right to it. +It was STOLEN from me, that's what I mean," he added, a sullen anger +flaming up in his little eyes. + +The clerk raised a shoulder and put the concertina on an upper shelf. + +"You talk to the boss about that; t'ain't none of my affair. If you want +to buy it, it's eleven dollars." + +The dentist had been paid off the day before and had four dollars in his +wallet at the moment. He gave the money to the clerk. + +"Here, there's part of the money. You--you put that concertina aside +for me, an' I'll give you the rest in a week or so--I'll give it to you +tomorrow," he exclaimed, struck with a sudden idea. + +McTeague had sadly missed his concertina. Sunday afternoons when there +was no work to be done, he was accustomed to lie flat on his back on his +springless bed in the little room in the rear of the music store, +his coat and shoes off, reading the paper, drinking steam beer from +a pitcher, and smoking his pipe. But he could no longer play his six +lugubrious airs upon his concertina, and it was a deprivation. He often +wondered where it was gone. It had been lost, no doubt, in the general +wreck of his fortunes. Once, even, the dentist had taken a concertina +from the lot kept by the music store. It was a Sunday and no one was +about. But he found he could not play upon it. The stops were arranged +upon a system he did not understand. + +Now his own concertina was come back to him. He would buy it back. +He had given the clerk four dollars. He knew where he would get the +remaining seven. + +The clerk had told him the concertina had been sold on Polk Street to +the second-hand store there. Trina had sold it. McTeague knew it. Trina +had sold his concertina--had stolen it and sold it--his concertina, +his beloved concertina, that he had had all his life. Why, barring +the canary, there was not one of all his belongings that McTeague had +cherished more dearly. His steel engraving of "Lorenzo de' Medici +and his Court" might be lost, his stone pug dog might go, but his +concertina! + +"And she sold it--stole it from me and sold it. Just because I happened +to forget to take it along with me. Well, we'll just see about that. +You'll give me the money to buy it back, or----" + +His rage loomed big within him. His hatred of Trina came back upon him +like a returning surge. He saw her small, prim mouth, her narrow blue +eyes, her black mane of hair, and up-tilted chin, and hated her the more +because of them. Aha, he'd show her; he'd make her dance. He'd get that +seven dollars from her, or he'd know the reason why. He went through +his work that day, heaving and hauling at the ponderous pianos, handling +them with the ease of a lifting crane, impatient for the coming of +evening, when he could be left to his own devices. As often as he had a +moment to spare he went down the street to the nearest saloon and drank +a pony of whiskey. Now and then as he fought and struggled with the vast +masses of ebony, rosewood, and mahogany on the upper floor of the music +store, raging and chafing at their inertness and unwillingness, while +the whiskey pirouetted in his brain, he would mutter to himself: + +"An' I got to do this. I got to work like a dray horse while she sits at +home by her stove and counts her money--and sells my concertina." + +Six o'clock came. Instead of supper, McTeague drank some more whiskey, +five ponies in rapid succession. After supper he was obliged to go out +with the dray to deliver a concert grand at the Odd Fellows' Hall, where +a piano "recital" was to take place. + +"Ain't you coming back with us?" asked one of the handlers as he climbed +upon the driver's seat after the piano had been put in place. + +"No, no," returned the dentist; "I got something else to do." The +brilliant lights of a saloon near the City Hall caught his eye. He +decided he would have another drink of whiskey. It was about eight +o'clock. + +The following day was to be a fete day at the kindergarten, the +Christmas and New Year festivals combined. All that afternoon the little +two-story building on Pacific Street had been filled with a number of +grand ladies of the Kindergarten Board, who were hanging up ropes of +evergreen and sprays of holly, and arranging a great Christmas tree that +stood in the centre of the ring in the schoolroom. The whole place was +pervaded with a pungent, piney odor. Trina had been very busy since the +early morning, coming and going at everybody's call, now running down +the street after another tack-hammer or a fresh supply of cranberries, +now tying together the ropes of evergreen and passing them up to one of +the grand ladies as she carefully balanced herself on a step-ladder. By +evening everything was in place. As the last grand lady left the school, +she gave Trina an extra dollar for her work, and said: + +"Now, if you'll just tidy up here, Mrs. McTeague, I think that will +be all. Sweep up the pine needles here--you see they are all over the +floor--and look through all the rooms, and tidy up generally. Good +night--and a Happy New Year," she cried pleasantly as she went out. + +Trina put the dollar away in her trunk before she did anything else and +cooked herself a bit of supper. Then she came downstairs again. + +The kindergarten was not large. On the lower floor were but two rooms, +the main schoolroom and another room, a cloakroom, very small, where the +children hung their hats and coats. This cloakroom opened off the back +of the main schoolroom. Trina cast a critical glance into both of these +rooms. There had been a great deal of going and coming in them during +the day, and she decided that the first thing to do would be to scrub +the floors. She went up again to her room overhead and heated some water +over her oil stove; then, re-descending, set to work vigorously. + +By nine o'clock she had almost finished with the schoolroom. She was +down on her hands and knees in the midst of a steaming muck of soapy +water. On her feet were a pair of man's shoes fastened with buckles; +a dirty cotton gown, damp with the water, clung about her shapeless, +stunted figure. From time to time she sat back on her heels to ease the +strain of her position, and with one smoking hand, white and parboiled +with the hot water, brushed her hair, already streaked with gray, out of +her weazened, pale face and the corners of her mouth. + +It was very quiet. A gas-jet without a globe lit up the place with a +crude, raw light. The cat who lived on the premises, preferring to be +dirty rather than to be wet, had got into the coal scuttle, and over its +rim watched her sleepily with a long, complacent purr. + +All at once he stopped purring, leaving an abrupt silence in the air +like the sudden shutting off of a stream of water, while his eyes grew +wide, two lambent disks of yellow in the heap of black fur. + +"Who is there?" cried Trina, sitting back on her heels. In the stillness +that succeeded, the water dripped from her hands with the steady tick of +a clock. Then a brutal fist swung open the street door of the schoolroom +and McTeague came in. He was drunk; not with that drunkenness which is +stupid, maudlin, wavering on its feet, but with that which is alert, +unnaturally intelligent, vicious, perfectly steady, deadly wicked. Trina +only had to look once at him, and in an instant, with some strange sixth +sense, born of the occasion, knew what she had to expect. + +She jumped up and ran from him into the little cloakroom. She locked and +bolted the door after her, and leaned her weight against it, panting and +trembling, every nerve shrinking and quivering with the fear of him. + +McTeague put his hand on the knob of the door outside and opened it, +tearing off the lock and bolt guard, and sending her staggering across +the room. + +"Mac," she cried to him, as he came in, speaking with horrid rapidity, +cringing and holding out her hands, "Mac, listen. Wait a minute--look +here--listen here. It wasn't my fault. I'll give you some money. You can +come back. I'll do ANYTHING you want. Won't you just LISTEN to me? Oh, +don't! I'll scream. I can't help it, you know. The people will hear." + +McTeague came towards her slowly, his immense feet dragging and grinding +on the floor; his enormous fists, hard as wooden mallets, swinging at +his sides. Trina backed from him to the corner of the room, cowering +before him, holding her elbow crooked in front of her face, watching him +with fearful intentness, ready to dodge. + +"I want that money," he said, pausing in front of her. + +"What money?" cried Trina. + +"I want that money. You got it--that five thousand dollars. I want every +nickel of it! You understand?" + +"I haven't it. It isn't here. Uncle Oelbermann's got it." + +"That's a lie. He told me that you came and got it. You've had it long +enough; now I want it. Do you hear?" + +"Mac, I can't give you that money. I--I WON'T give it to you," Trina +cried, with sudden resolution. + +"Yes, you will. You'll give me every nickel of it." + +"No, NO." + +"You ain't going to make small of me this time. Give me that money." + +"NO." + +"For the last time, will you give me that money?" + +"No." + +"You won't, huh? You won't give me it? For the last time." + +"No, NO." + +Usually the dentist was slow in his movements, but now the alcohol had +awakened in him an ape-like agility. He kept his small eyes upon her, +and all at once sent his fist into the middle of her face with the +suddenness of a relaxed spring. + +Beside herself with terror, Trina turned and fought him back; fought for +her miserable life with the exasperation and strength of a harassed cat; +and with such energy and such wild, unnatural force, that even McTeague +for the moment drew back from her. But her resistance was the one thing +to drive him to the top of his fury. He came back at her again, his eyes +drawn to two fine twinkling points, and his enormous fists, clenched +till the knuckles whitened, raised in the air. + +Then it became abominable. + +In the schoolroom outside, behind the coal scuttle, the cat listened to +the sounds of stamping and struggling and the muffled noise of blows, +wildly terrified, his eyes bulging like brass knobs. At last the sounds +stopped on a sudden; he heard nothing more. Then McTeague came out, +closing the door. The cat followed him with distended eyes as he crossed +the room and disappeared through the street door. + +The dentist paused for a moment on the sidewalk, looking carefully up +and down the street. It was deserted and quiet. He turned sharply to the +right and went down a narrow passage that led into the little court yard +behind the school. A candle was burning in Trina's room. He went up by +the outside stairway and entered. + +The trunk stood locked in one corner of the room. The dentist took the +lid-lifter from the little oil stove, put it underneath the lock-clasp +and wrenched it open. Groping beneath a pile of dresses he found the +chamois-skin bag, the little brass match-box, and, at the very bottom, +carefully thrust into one corner, the canvas sack crammed to the mouth +with twenty-dollar gold pieces. He emptied the chamois-skin bag and the +matchbox into the pockets of his trousers. But the canvas sack was too +bulky to hide about his clothes. "I guess I'll just naturally have to +carry YOU," he muttered. He blew out the candle, closed the door, and +gained the street again. + +The dentist crossed the city, going back to the music store. It was a +little after eleven o'clock. The night was moonless, filled with a gray +blur of faint light that seemed to come from all quarters of the horizon +at once. From time to time there were sudden explosions of a southeast +wind at the street corners. McTeague went on, slanting his head against +the gusts, to keep his cap from blowing off, carrying the sack close to +his side. Once he looked critically at the sky. + +"I bet it'll rain to-morrow," he muttered, "if this wind works round to +the south." + +Once in his little den behind the music store, he washed his hands and +forearms, and put on his working clothes, blue overalls and a +jumper, over cheap trousers and vest. Then he got together his small +belongings--an old campaign hat, a pair of boots, a tin of tobacco, +and a pinchbeck bracelet which he had found one Sunday in the Park, and +which he believed to be valuable. He stripped his blanket from his bed +and rolled up in it all these objects, together with the canvas sack, +fastening the roll with a half hitch such as miners use, the instincts +of the old-time car-boy coming back to him in his present confusion +of mind. He changed his pipe and his knife--a huge jackknife with a +yellowed bone handle--to the pockets of his overalls. + +Then at last he stood with his hand on the door, holding up the lamp +before blowing it out, looking about to make sure he was ready to go. +The wavering light woke his canary. It stirred and began to chitter +feebly, very sleepy and cross at being awakened. McTeague started, +staring at it, and reflecting. He believed that it would be a long +time before anyone came into that room again. The canary would be days +without food; it was likely it would starve, would die there, hour by +hour, in its little gilt prison. McTeague resolved to take it with him. +He took down the cage, touching it gently with his enormous hands, and +tied a couple of sacks about it to shelter the little bird from the +sharp night wind. + +Then he went out, locking all the doors behind him, and turned toward +the ferry slips. The boats had ceased running hours ago, but he told +himself that by waiting till four o'clock he could get across the bay on +the tug that took over the morning papers. + +* * * * * * * * * * * * * + +Trina lay unconscious, just as she had fallen under the last of +McTeague's blows, her body twitching with an occasional hiccough that +stirred the pool of blood in which she lay face downward. Towards +morning she died with a rapid series of hiccoughs that sounded like a +piece of clockwork running down. + +The thing had been done in the cloakroom where the kindergarten children +hung their hats and coats. There was no other entrance except by going +through the main schoolroom. McTeague going out had shut the door of +the cloakroom, but had left the street door open; so when the children +arrived in the morning, they entered as usual. + +About half-past eight, two or three five-year-olds, one a little colored +girl, came into the schoolroom of the kindergarten with a great chatter +of voices, going across to the cloakroom to hang up their hats and coats +as they had been taught. + +Half way across the room one of them stopped and put her small nose +in the air, crying, "Um-o-o, what a funnee smell!" The others began to +sniff the air as well, and one, the daughter of a butcher, exclaimed, +"'Tsmells like my pa's shop," adding in the next breath, "Look, what's +the matter with the kittee?" + +In fact, the cat was acting strangely. He lay quite flat on the floor, +his nose pressed close to the crevice under the door of the little +cloakroom, winding his tail slowly back and forth, excited, very eager. +At times he would draw back and make a strange little clacking noise +down in his throat. + +"Ain't he funnee?" said the little girl again. The cat slunk swiftly +away as the children came up. Then the tallest of the little girls swung +the door of the little cloakroom wide open and they all ran in. + + + +CHAPTER 20 + + +The day was very hot, and the silence of high noon lay close and thick +between the steep slopes of the canyons like an invisible, muffling +fluid. At intervals the drone of an insect bored the air and trailed +slowly to silence again. Everywhere were pungent, aromatic smells. +The vast, moveless heat seemed to distil countless odors from the +brush--odors of warm sap, of pine needles, and of tar-weed, and above +all the medicinal odor of witch hazel. As far as one could look, +uncounted multitudes of trees and manzanita bushes were quietly and +motionlessly growing, growing, growing. A tremendous, immeasurable Life +pushed steadily heavenward without a sound, without a motion. At turns +of the road, on the higher points, canyons disclosed themselves far +away, gigantic grooves in the landscape, deep blue in the distance, +opening one into another, ocean-deep, silent, huge, and suggestive of +colossal primeval forces held in reserve. At their bottoms they were +solid, massive; on their crests they broke delicately into fine serrated +edges where the pines and redwoods outlined their million of tops +against the high white horizon. Here and there the mountains lifted +themselves out of the narrow river beds in groups like giant lions +rearing their heads after drinking. The entire region was untamed. In +some places east of the Mississippi nature is cosey, intimate, +small, and homelike, like a good-natured housewife. In Placer County, +California, she is a vast, unconquered brute of the Pliocene epoch, +savage, sullen, and magnificently indifferent to man. + +But there were men in these mountains, like lice on mammoths' hides, +fighting them stubbornly, now with hydraulic "monitors," now with drill +and dynamite, boring into the vitals of them, or tearing away great +yellow gravelly scars in the flanks of them, sucking their blood, +extracting gold. + +Here and there at long distances upon the canyon sides rose the headgear +of a mine, surrounded with its few unpainted houses, and topped by its +never-failing feather of black smoke. On near approach one heard +the prolonged thunder of the stamp-mill, the crusher, the insatiable +monster, gnashing the rocks to powder with its long iron teeth, vomiting +them out again in a thin stream of wet gray mud. Its enormous maw, fed +night and day with the car-boys' loads, gorged itself with gravel, and +spat out the gold, grinding the rocks between its jaws, glutted, as it +were, with the very entrails of the earth, and growling over its endless +meal, like some savage animal, some legendary dragon, some fabulous +beast, symbol of inordinate and monstrous gluttony. + +McTeague had left the Overland train at Colfax, and the same afternoon +had ridden some eight miles across the mountains in the stage that +connects Colfax with Iowa Hill. Iowa Hill was a small one-street town, +the headquarters of the mines of the district. Originally it had been +built upon the summit of a mountain, but the sides of this mountain have +long since been "hydrau-licked" away, so that the town now clings to a +mere back bone, and the rear windows of the houses on both sides of the +street look down over sheer precipices, into vast pits hundreds of feet +deep. + +The dentist stayed over night at the Hill, and the next morning started +off on foot farther into the mountains. He still wore his blue overalls +and jumper; his woollen cap was pulled down over his eye; on his feet +were hob-nailed boots he had bought at the store in Colfax; his blanket +roll was over his back; in his left hand swung the bird cage wrapped in +sacks. + +Just outside the town he paused, as if suddenly remembering something. + +"There ought to be a trail just off the road here," he muttered. "There +used to be a trail--a short cut." + +The next instant, without moving from his position, he saw where it +opened just before him. His instinct had halted him at the exact spot. +The trail zigzagged down the abrupt descent of the canyon, debouching +into a gravelly river bed. + +"Indian River," muttered the dentist. "I remember--I remember. I ought +to hear the Morning Star's stamps from here." He cocked his head. A low, +sustained roar, like a distant cataract, came to his ears from across +the river. "That's right," he said, contentedly. He crossed the river +and regained the road beyond. The slope rose under his feet; a little +farther on he passed the Morning Star mine, smoking and thundering. +McTeague pushed steadily on. The road rose with the rise of the +mountain, turned at a sharp angle where a great live-oak grew, and held +level for nearly a quarter of a mile. Twice again the dentist left the +road and took to the trail that cut through deserted hydraulic pits. He +knew exactly where to look for these trails; not once did his instinct +deceive him. He recognized familiar points at once. Here was Cold +canyon, where invariably, winter and summer, a chilly wind was blowing; +here was where the road to Spencer's branched off; here was Bussy's +old place, where at one time there were so many dogs; here was Delmue's +cabin, where unlicensed whiskey used to be sold; here was the plank +bridge with its one rotten board; and here the flat overgrown with +manzanita, where he once had shot three quail. + +At noon, after he had been tramping for some two hours, he halted at a +point where the road dipped suddenly. A little to the right of him, and +flanking the road, an enormous yellow gravel-pit like an emptied lake +gaped to heaven. Farther on, in the distance, a canyon zigzagged toward +the horizon, rugged with pine-clad mountain crests. Nearer at hand, and +directly in the line of the road, was an irregular cluster of unpainted +cabins. A dull, prolonged roar vibrated in the air. McTeague nodded his +head as if satisfied. + +"That's the place," he muttered. + +He reshouldered his blanket roll and descended the road. At last he +halted again. He stood before a low one-story building, differing from +the others in that it was painted. A verandah, shut in with mosquito +netting, surrounded it. McTeague dropped his blanket roll on a lumber +pile outside, and came up and knocked at the open door. Some one called +to him to come in. + +McTeague entered, rolling his eyes about him, noting the changes that +had been made since he had last seen this place. A partition had been +knocked down, making one big room out of the two former small ones. A +counter and railing stood inside the door. There was a telephone on the +wall. In one corner he also observed a stack of surveyor's instruments; +a big drawing-board straddled on spindle legs across one end of the +room, a mechanical drawing of some kind, no doubt the plan of the +mine, unrolled upon it; a chromo representing a couple of peasants in a +ploughed field (Millet's "Angelus") was nailed unframed upon the wall, +and hanging from the same wire nail that secured one of its corners in +place was a bullion bag and a cartridge belt with a loaded revolver in +the pouch. + +The dentist approached the counter and leaned his elbows upon it. Three +men were in the room--a tall, lean young man, with a thick head of hair +surprisingly gray, who was playing with a half-grown great Dane puppy; +another fellow about as young, but with a jaw almost as salient as +McTeague's, stood at the letter-press taking a copy of a letter; a third +man, a little older than the other two, was pottering over a transit. +This latter was massively built, and wore overalls and low boots +streaked and stained and spotted in every direction with gray mud. The +dentist looked slowly from one to the other; then at length, "Is the +foreman about?" he asked. + +The man in the muddy overalls came forward. + +"What you want?" + +He spoke with a strong German accent. + +The old invariable formula came back to McTeague on the instant. + +"What's the show for a job?" + +At once the German foreman became preoccupied, looking aimlessly out of +the window. There was a silence. + +"You hev been miner alretty?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"Know how to hendle pick'n shov'le?" + +"Yes, I know." + +The other seemed unsatisfied. "Are you a 'cousin Jack'?" + +The dentist grinned. This prejudice against Cornishmen he remembered +too. + +"No. American." + +"How long sence you mine?" + +"Oh, year or two." + +"Show your hends." McTeague exhibited his hard, callused palms. + +"When ken you go to work? I want a chuck-tender on der night-shift." + +"I can tend a chuck. I'll go on to-night." + +"What's your name?" + +The dentist started. He had forgotten to be prepared for this. + +"Huh? What?" + +"What's the name?" + +McTeague's eye was caught by a railroad calendar hanging over the desk. +There was no time to think. + +"Burlington," he said, loudly. + +The German took a card from a file and wrote it down. + +"Give dis card to der boarding-boss, down at der boarding-haus, den gome +find me bei der mill at sex o'clock, und I set you to work." + +Straight as a homing pigeon, and following a blind and unreasoned +instinct, McTeague had returned to the Big Dipper mine. Within a week's +time it seemed to him as though he had never been away. He picked up his +life again exactly where he had left it the day when his mother had sent +him away with the travelling dentist, the charlatan who had set up his +tent by the bunk house. The house McTeague had once lived in was still +there, occupied by one of the shift bosses and his family. The dentist +passed it on his way to and from the mine. + +He himself slept in the bunk house with some thirty others of his shift. +At half-past five in the evening the cook at the boarding-house sounded +a prolonged alarm upon a crowbar bent in the form of a triangle, that +hung upon the porch of the boarding-house. McTeague rose and dressed, +and with his shift had supper. Their lunch-pails were distributed to +them. Then he made his way to the tunnel mouth, climbed into a car in +the waiting ore train, and was hauled into the mine. + +Once inside, the hot evening air turned to a cool dampness, and the +forest odors gave place to the smell of stale dynamite smoke, suggestive +of burning rubber. A cloud of steam came from McTeague's mouth; +underneath, the water swashed and rippled around the car-wheels, while +the light from the miner's candlesticks threw wavering blurs of pale +yellow over the gray rotting quartz of the roof and walls. Occasionally +McTeague bent down his head to avoid the lagging of the roof or the +projections of an overhanging shute. From car to car all along the line +the miners called to one another as the train trundled along, joshing +and laughing. + +A mile from the entrance the train reached the breast where McTeague's +gang worked. The men clambered from the cars and took up the labor +where the day shift had left it, burrowing their way steadily through a +primeval river bed. + +The candlesticks thrust into the crevices of the gravel strata lit up +faintly the half dozen moving figures befouled with sweat and with +wet gray mould. The picks struck into the loose gravel with a yielding +shock. The long-handled shovels clinked amidst the piles of bowlders and +scraped dully in the heaps of rotten quartz. The Burly drill boring for +blasts broke out from time to time in an irregular chug-chug, chug-chug, +while the engine that pumped the water from the mine coughed and +strangled at short intervals. + +McTeague tended the chuck. In a way he was the assistant of the man who +worked the Burly. It was his duty to replace the drills in the Burly, +putting in longer ones as the hole got deeper and deeper. From time +to time he rapped the drill with a pole-pick when it stuck fast or +fitchered. + +Once it even occurred to him that there was a resemblance between his +present work and the profession he had been forced to abandon. In the +Burly drill he saw a queer counterpart of his old-time dental engine; +and what were the drills and chucks but enormous hoe excavators, hard +bits, and burrs? It was the same work he had so often performed in his +"Parlors," only magnified, made monstrous, distorted, and grotesqued, +the caricature of dentistry. + +He passed his nights thus in the midst of the play of crude and simple +forces--the powerful attacks of the Burly drills; the great exertions +of bared, bent backs overlaid with muscle; the brusque, resistless +expansion of dynamite; and the silent, vast, Titanic force, mysterious +and slow, that cracked the timbers supporting the roof of the tunnel, +and that gradually flattened the lagging till it was thin as paper. + +The life pleased the dentist beyond words. The still, colossal mountains +took him back again like a returning prodigal, and vaguely, without +knowing why, he yielded to their influence--their immensity, their +enormous power, crude and blind, reflecting themselves in his own +nature, huge, strong, brutal in its simplicity. And this, though he only +saw the mountains at night. They appeared far different then than in the +daytime. At twelve o'clock he came out of the mine and lunched on the +contents of his dinner-pail, sitting upon the embankment of the track, +eating with both hands, and looking around him with a steady ox-like +gaze. The mountains rose sheer from every side, heaving their gigantic +crests far up into the night, the black peaks crowding together, and +looking now less like beasts than like a company of cowled giants. In +the daytime they were silent; but at night they seemed to stir and rouse +themselves. Occasionally the stamp-mill stopped, its thunder ceasing +abruptly. Then one could hear the noises that the mountains made in +their living. From the canyon, from the crowding crests, from the whole +immense landscape, there rose a steady and prolonged sound, coming +from all sides at once. It was that incessant and muffled roar which +disengages itself from all vast bodies, from oceans, from cities, from +forests, from sleeping armies, and which is like the breathing of an +infinitely great monster, alive, palpitating. + +McTeague returned to his work. At six in the morning his shift was taken +off, and he went out of the mine and back to the bunk house. All day +long he slept, flung at length upon the strong-smelling blankets--slept +the dreamless sleep of exhaustion, crushed and overpowered with the +work, flat and prone upon his belly, till again in the evening the cook +sounded the alarm upon the crowbar bent into a triangle. + +Every alternate week the shifts were changed. The second week McTeague's +shift worked in the daytime and slept at night. Wednesday night of this +second week the dentist woke suddenly. He sat up in his bed in the bunk +house, looking about him from side to side; an alarm clock hanging on +the wall, over a lantern, marked half-past three. + +"What was it?" muttered the dentist. "I wonder what it was." The rest of +the shift were sleeping soundly, filling the room with the rasping sound +of snoring. Everything was in its accustomed place; nothing stirred. But +for all that McTeague got up and lit his miner's candlestick and went +carefully about the room, throwing the light into the dark corners, +peering under all the beds, including his own. Then he went to the door +and stepped outside. The night was warm and still; the moon, very low, +and canted on her side like a galleon foundering. The camp was very +quiet; nobody was in sight. "I wonder what it was," muttered the +dentist. "There was something--why did I wake up? Huh?" He made a +circuit about the bunk house, unusually alert, his small eyes twinkling +rapidly, seeing everything. All was quiet. An old dog who invariably +slept on the steps of the bunk house had not even wakened. McTeague went +back to bed, but did not sleep. + +"There was SOMETHING," he muttered, looking in a puzzled way at his +canary in the cage that hung from the wall at his bedside; "something. +What was it? There is something NOW. There it is again--the same thing." +He sat up in bed with eyes and ears strained. "What is it? I don' +know what it is. I don' hear anything, an' I don' see anything. I feel +something--right now; feel it now. I wonder--I don' know--I don' know." + +Once more he got up, and this time dressed himself. He made a complete +tour of the camp, looking and listening, for what he did not know. +He even went to the outskirts of the camp and for nearly half an hour +watched the road that led into the camp from the direction of Iowa Hill. +He saw nothing; not even a rabbit stirred. He went to bed. + +But from this time on there was a change. The dentist grew restless, +uneasy. Suspicion of something, he could not say what, annoyed him +incessantly. He went wide around sharp corners. At every moment he +looked sharply over his shoulder. He even went to bed with his clothes +and cap on, and at every hour during the night would get up and prowl +about the bunk house, one ear turned down the wind, his eyes gimleting +the darkness. From time to time he would murmur: + +"There's something. What is it? I wonder what it is." + +What strange sixth sense stirred in McTeague at this time? What animal +cunning, what brute instinct clamored for recognition and obedience? +What lower faculty was it that roused his suspicion, that drove him out +into the night a score of times between dark and dawn, his head in the +air, his eyes and ears keenly alert? + +One night as he stood on the steps of the bunk house, peering into the +shadows of the camp, he uttered an exclamation as of a man suddenly +enlightened. He turned back into the house, drew from under his bed the +blanket roll in which he kept his money hid, and took the canary down +from the wall. He strode to the door and disappeared into the night. +When the sheriff of Placer County and the two deputies from San +Francisco reached the Big Dipper mine, McTeague had been gone two days. + + + +CHAPTER 21 + + +"Well," said one of the deputies, as he backed the horse into the shafts +of the buggy in which the pursuers had driven over from the Hill, "we've +about as good as got him. It isn't hard to follow a man who carries a +bird cage with him wherever he goes." + +McTeague crossed the mountains on foot the Friday and Saturday of +that week, going over through Emigrant Gap, following the line of the +Overland railroad. He reached Reno Monday night. By degrees a vague plan +of action outlined itself in the dentist's mind. + +"Mexico," he muttered to himself. "Mexico, that's the place. They'll +watch the coast and they'll watch the Eastern trains, but they won't +think of Mexico." + +The sense of pursuit which had harassed him during the last week of his +stay at the Big Dipper mine had worn off, and he believed himself to be +very cunning. + +"I'm pretty far ahead now, I guess," he said. At Reno he boarded a +south-bound freight on the line of the Carson and Colorado railroad, +paying for a passage in the caboose. "Freights don' run on schedule +time," he muttered, "and a conductor on a passenger train makes it his +business to study faces. I'll stay with this train as far as it goes." + +The freight worked slowly southward, through western Nevada, the country +becoming hourly more and more desolate and abandoned. After leaving +Walker Lake the sage-brush country began, and the freight rolled heavily +over tracks that threw off visible layers of heat. At times it stopped +whole half days on sidings or by water tanks, and the engineer and +fireman came back to the caboose and played poker with the conductor and +train crew. The dentist sat apart, behind the stove, smoking pipe after +pipe of cheap tobacco. Sometimes he joined in the poker games. He +had learned poker when a boy at the mine, and after a few deals his +knowledge returned to him; but for the most part he was taciturn and +unsociable, and rarely spoke to the others unless spoken to first. The +crew recognized the type, and the impression gained ground among them +that he had "done for" a livery-stable keeper at Truckee and was trying +to get down into Arizona. + +McTeague heard two brakemen discussing him one night as they stood +outside by the halted train. "The livery-stable keeper called him a +bastard; that's what Picachos told me," one of them remarked, "and +started to draw his gun; an' this fellar did for him with a hayfork. +He's a horse doctor, this chap is, and the livery-stable keeper had got +the law on him so's he couldn't practise any more, an' he was sore about +it." + +Near a place called Queen's the train reentered California, and McTeague +observed with relief that the line of track which had hitherto held +westward curved sharply to the south again. The train was unmolested; +occasionally the crew fought with a gang of tramps who attempted to ride +the brake beams, and once in the northern part of Inyo County, while +they were halted at a water tank, an immense Indian buck, blanketed to +the ground, approached McTeague as he stood on the roadbed stretching +his legs, and without a word presented to him a filthy, crumpled letter. +The letter was to the effect that the buck Big Jim was a good Indian and +deserving of charity; the signature was illegible. The dentist stared at +the letter, returned it to the buck, and regained the train just as it +started. Neither had spoken; the buck did not move from his position, +and fully five minutes afterward, when the slow-moving freight was miles +away, the dentist looked back and saw him still standing motionless +between the rails, a forlorn and solitary point of red, lost in the +immensity of the surrounding white blur of the desert. + +At length the mountains began again, rising up on either side of the +track; vast, naked hills of white sand and red rock, spotted with +blue shadows. Here and there a patch of green was spread like a gay +table-cloth over the sand. All at once Mount Whitney leaped over the +horizon. Independence was reached and passed; the freight, nearly +emptied by now, and much shortened, rolled along the shores of Owen +Lake. At a place called Keeler it stopped definitely. It was the +terminus of the road. + +The town of Keeler was a one-street town, not unlike Iowa Hill--the +post-office, the bar and hotel, the Odd Fellows' Hall, and the livery +stable being the principal buildings. + +"Where to now?" muttered McTeague to himself as he sat on the edge of +the bed in his room in the hotel. He hung the canary in the window, +filled its little bathtub, and watched it take its bath with enormous +satisfaction. "Where to now?" he muttered again. "This is as far as the +railroad goes, an' it won' do for me to stay in a town yet a while; no, +it won' do. I got to clear out. Where to? That's the word, where to? +I'll go down to supper now"--He went on whispering his thoughts aloud, +so that they would take more concrete shape in his mind--"I'll go down +to supper now, an' then I'll hang aroun' the bar this evening till I get +the lay of this land. Maybe this is fruit country, though it looks more +like a cattle country. Maybe it's a mining country. If it's a mining +country," he continued, puckering his heavy eyebrows, "if it's a mining +country, an' the mines are far enough off the roads, maybe I'd better +get to the mines an' lay quiet for a month before I try to get any +farther south." + +He washed the cinders and dust of a week's railroading from his face +and hair, put on a fresh pair of boots, and went down to supper. The +dining-room was of the invariable type of the smaller interior towns +of California. There was but one table, covered with oilcloth; rows of +benches answered for chairs; a railroad map, a chromo with a gilt +frame protected by mosquito netting, hung on the walls, together with a +yellowed photograph of the proprietor in Masonic regalia. Two waitresses +whom the guests--all men--called by their first names, came and went +with large trays. + +Through the windows outside McTeague observed a great number of saddle +horses tied to trees and fences. Each one of these horses had a riata on +the pommel of the saddle. He sat down to the table, eating his thick hot +soup, watching his neighbors covertly, listening to everything that was +said. It did not take him long to gather that the country to the east +and south of Keeler was a cattle country. + +Not far off, across a range of hills, was the Panamint Valley, where the +big cattle ranges were. Every now and then this name was tossed to +and fro across the table in the flow of conversation--"Over in the +Panamint." "Just going down for a rodeo in the Panamint." "Panamint +brands." "Has a range down in the Panamint." Then by and by the remark, +"Hoh, yes, Gold Gulch, they're down to good pay there. That's on the +other side of the Panamint Range. Peters came in yesterday and told me." + +McTeague turned to the speaker. + +"Is that a gravel mine?" he asked. + +"No, no, quartz." + +"I'm a miner; that's why I asked." + +"Well I've mined some too. I had a hole in the ground meself, but she +was silver; and when the skunks at Washington lowered the price of +silver, where was I? Fitchered, b'God!" + +"I was looking for a job." + +"Well, it's mostly cattle down here in the Panamint, but since the +strike over at Gold Gulch some of the boys have gone prospecting. +There's gold in them damn Panamint Mountains. If you can find a good +long 'contact' of country rocks you ain't far from it. There's a couple +of fellars from Redlands has located four claims around Gold Gulch. They +got a vein eighteen inches wide, an' Peters says you can trace it for +more'n a thousand feet. Were you thinking of prospecting over there?" + +"Well, well, I don' know, I don' know." + +"Well, I'm going over to the other side of the range day after t'morrow +after some ponies of mine, an' I'm going to have a look around. You say +you've been a miner?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"If you're going over that way, you might come along and see if we can't +find a contact, or copper sulphurets, or something. Even if we don't +find color we may find silver-bearing galena." Then, after a pause, +"Let's see, I didn't catch your name." + +"Huh? My name's Carter," answered McTeague, promptly. Why he should +change his name again the dentist could not say. "Carter" came to his +mind at once, and he answered without reflecting that he had registered +as "Burlington" when he had arrived at the hotel. + +"Well, my name's Cribbens," answered the other. The two shook hands +solemnly. + +"You're about finished?" continued Cribbens, pushing back. "Le's go out +in the bar an' have a drink on it." + +"Sure, sure," said the dentist. + +The two sat up late that night in a corner of the barroom discussing +the probability of finding gold in the Panamint hills. It soon became +evident that they held differing theories. McTeague clung to the old +prospector's idea that there was no way of telling where gold was until +you actually saw it. Cribbens had evidently read a good many books upon +the subject, and had already prospected in something of a scientific +manner. + +"Shucks!" he exclaimed. "Gi' me a long distinct contact between +sedimentary and igneous rocks, an' I'll sink a shaft without ever SEEING +'color.'" + +The dentist put his huge chin in the air. "Gold is where you find it," +he returned, doggedly. + +"Well, it's my idea as how pardners ought to work along different +lines," said Cribbens. He tucked the corners of his mustache into +his mouth and sucked the tobacco juice from them. For a moment he was +thoughtful, then he blew out his mustache abruptly, and exclaimed: + +"Say, Carter, le's make a go of this. You got a little cash I +suppose--fifty dollars or so?" + +"Huh? Yes--I--I--" + +"Well, I got about fifty. We'll go pardners on the proposition, an' +we'll dally 'round the range yonder an' see what we can see. What do you +say?" + +"Sure, sure," answered the dentist. + +"Well, it's a go then, hey?" + +"That's the word." + +"Well, le's have a drink on it." + +They drank with profound gravity. + +They fitted out the next day at the general merchandise store of +Keeler--picks, shovels, prospectors' hammers, a couple of cradles, pans, +bacon, flour, coffee, and the like, and they bought a burro on which to +pack their kit. + +"Say, by jingo, you ain't got a horse," suddenly exclaimed Cribbens as +they came out of the store. "You can't get around this country without a +pony of some kind." + +Cribbens already owned and rode a buckskin cayuse that had to be knocked +in the head and stunned before it could be saddled. "I got an extry +saddle an' a headstall at the hotel that you can use," he said, "but +you'll have to get a horse." + +In the end the dentist bought a mule at the livery stable for forty +dollars. It turned out to be a good bargain, however, for the mule was +a good traveller and seemed actually to fatten on sage-brush and potato +parings. When the actual transaction took place, McTeague had been +obliged to get the money to pay for the mule out of the canvas sack. +Cribbens was with him at the time, and as the dentist unrolled his +blankets and disclosed the sack, whistled in amazement. + +"An' me asking you if you had fifty dollars!" he exclaimed. "You carry +your mine right around with you, don't you?" + +"Huh, I guess so," muttered the dentist. "I--I just sold a claim I had +up in El Dorado County," he added. + +At five o'clock on a magnificent May morning the "pardners" jogged out +of Keeler, driving the burro before them. Cribbens rode his cayuse, +McTeague following in his rear on the mule. + +"Say," remarked Cribbens, "why in thunder don't you leave that fool +canary behind at the hotel? It's going to be in your way all the time, +an' it will sure die. Better break its neck an' chuck it." + +"No, no," insisted the dentist. "I've had it too long. I'll take it with +me." + +"Well, that's the craziest idea I ever heard of," remarked Cribbens, "to +take a canary along prospecting. Why not kid gloves, and be done with +it?" + +They travelled leisurely to the southeast during the day, following a +well-beaten cattle road, and that evening camped on a spur of some hills +at the head of the Panamint Valley where there was a spring. The next +day they crossed the Panamint itself. + +"That's a smart looking valley," observed the dentist. + +"NOW you're talking straight talk," returned Cribbens, sucking his +mustache. The valley was beautiful, wide, level, and very green. +Everywhere were herds of cattle, scarcely less wild than deer. Once or +twice cowboys passed them on the road, big-boned fellows, picturesque +in their broad hats, hairy trousers, jingling spurs, and revolver +belts, surprisingly like the pictures McTeague remembered to have seen. +Everyone of them knew Cribbens, and almost invariably joshed him on his +venture. + +"Say, Crib, ye'd best take a wagon train with ye to bring your dust +back." + +Cribbens resented their humor, and after they had passed, chewed +fiercely on his mustache. + +"I'd like to make a strike, b'God! if it was only to get the laugh on +them joshers." + +By noon they were climbing the eastern slope of the Panamint Range. Long +since they had abandoned the road; vegetation ceased; not a tree was in +sight. They followed faint cattle trails that led from one water hole to +another. By degrees these water holes grew dryer and dryer, and at three +o'clock Cribbens halted and filled their canteens. + +"There ain't any TOO much water on the other side," he observed grimly. + +"It's pretty hot," muttered the dentist, wiping his streaming forehead +with the back of his hand. + +"Huh!" snorted the other more grimly than ever. The motionless air +was like the mouth of a furnace. Cribbens's pony lathered and panted. +McTeague's mule began to droop his long ears. Only the little burro +plodded resolutely on, picking the trail where McTeague could see but +trackless sand and stunted sage. Towards evening Cribbens, who was in +the lead, drew rein on the summit of the hills. + +Behind them was the beautiful green Panamint Valley, but before and +below them for miles and miles, as far as the eye could reach, a flat, +white desert, empty even of sage-brush, unrolled toward the horizon. In +the immediate foreground a broken system of arroyos, and little canyons +tumbled down to meet it. To the north faint blue hills shouldered +themselves above the horizon. + +"Well," observed Cribbens, "we're on the top of the Panamint Range now. +It's along this eastern slope, right below us here, that we're going to +prospect. Gold Gulch"--he pointed with the butt of his quirt--"is about +eighteen or nineteen miles along here to the north of us. Those hills +way over yonder to the northeast are the Telescope hills." + +"What do you call the desert out yonder?" McTeague's eyes wandered over +the illimitable stretch of alkali that stretched out forever and forever +to the east, to the north, and to the south. + +"That," said Cribbens, "that's Death Valley." + +There was a long pause. The horses panted irregularly, the sweat +dripping from their heaving bellies. Cribbens and the dentist +sat motionless in their saddles, looking out over that abominable +desolation, silent, troubled. + +"God!" ejaculated Cribbens at length, under his breath, with a shake of +his head. Then he seemed to rouse himself. "Well," he remarked, "first +thing we got to do now is to find water." + +This was a long and difficult task. They descended into one little +canyon after another, followed the course of numberless arroyos, and +even dug where there seemed indications of moisture, all to no purpose. +But at length McTeague's mule put his nose in the air and blew once or +twice through his nostrils. + +"Smells it, the son of a gun!" exclaimed Cribbens. The dentist let the +animal have his head, and in a few minutes he had brought them to the +bed of a tiny canyon where a thin stream of brackish water filtered over +a ledge of rocks. + +"We'll camp here," observed Cribbens, "but we can't turn the horses +loose. We'll have to picket 'em with the lariats. I saw some loco-weed +back here a piece, and if they get to eating that, they'll sure go plum +crazy. The burro won't eat it, but I wouldn't trust the others." + +A new life began for McTeague. After breakfast the "pardners" separated, +going in opposite directions along the slope of the range, examining +rocks, picking and chipping at ledges and bowlders, looking for signs, +prospecting. McTeague went up into the little canyons where the streams +had cut through the bed rock, searching for veins of quartz, breaking +out this quartz when he had found it, pulverizing and panning it. +Cribbens hunted for "contacts," closely examining country rocks and +out-crops, continually on the lookout for spots where sedimentary and +igneous rock came together. + +One day, after a week of prospecting, they met unexpectedly on the slope +of an arroyo. It was late in the afternoon. "Hello, pardner," exclaimed +Cribbens as he came down to where McTeague was bending over his pan. +"What luck?" + +The dentist emptied his pan and straightened up. "Nothing, nothing. You +struck anything?" + +"Not a trace. Guess we might as well be moving towards camp." They +returned together, Cribbens telling the dentist of a group of antelope +he had seen. + +"We might lay off to-morrow, an' see if we can plug a couple of them +fellers. Antelope steak would go pretty well after beans an' bacon an' +coffee week in an' week out." + +McTeague was answering, when Cribbens interrupted him with an +exclamation of profound disgust. "I thought we were the first to +prospect along in here, an' now look at that. Don't it make you sick?" + +He pointed out evidences of an abandoned prospector's camp just before +them--charred ashes, empty tin cans, one or two gold-miner's pans, and a +broken pick. "Don't that make you sick?" muttered Cribbens, sucking his +mustache furiously. "To think of us mushheads going over ground that's +been covered already! Say, pardner, we'll dig out of here to-morrow. +I've been thinking, anyhow, we'd better move to the south; that water of +ours is pretty low." + +"Yes, yes, I guess so," assented the dentist. "There ain't any gold +here." + +"Yes, there is," protested Cribbens doggedly; "there's gold all through +these hills, if we could only strike it. I tell you what, pardner, I got +a place in mind where I'll bet no one ain't prospected--least not very +many. There don't very many care to try an' get to it. It's over on the +other side of Death Valley. It's called Gold Mountain, an' there's only +one mine been located there, an' it's paying like a nitrate bed. There +ain't many people in that country, because it's all hell to get into. +First place, you got to cross Death Valley and strike the Armagosa Range +fur off to the south. Well, no one ain't stuck on crossing the Valley, +not if they can help it. But we could work down the Panamint some +hundred or so miles, maybe two hundred, an' fetch around by the Armagosa +River, way to the south'erd. We could prospect on the way. But I guess +the Armagosa'd be dried up at this season. Anyhow," he concluded, "we'll +move camp to the south to-morrow. We got to get new feed an' water +for the horses. We'll see if we can knock over a couple of antelope +to-morrow, and then we'll scoot." + +"I ain't got a gun," said the dentist; "not even a revolver. I--" + +"Wait a second," said Cribbens, pausing in his scramble down the side +of one of the smaller gulches. "Here's some slate here; I ain't seen no +slate around here yet. Let's see where it goes to." + +McTeague followed him along the side of the gulch. Cribbens went on +ahead, muttering to himself from time to time: + +"Runs right along here, even enough, and here's water too. Didn't know +this stream was here; pretty near dry, though. Here's the slate again. +See where it runs, pardner?" + +"Look at it up there ahead," said McTeague. "It runs right up over the +back of this hill." + +"That's right," assented Cribbens. "Hi!" he shouted suddenly, "HERE'S A +'CONTACT,' and here it is again, and there, and yonder. Oh, look at +it, will you? That's granodiorite on slate. Couldn't want it any more +distinct than that. GOD! if we could only find the quartz between the +two now." + +"Well, there it is," exclaimed McTeague. "Look on ahead there; ain't +that quartz?" + +"You're shouting right out loud," vociferated Cribbens, looking where +McTeague was pointing. His face went suddenly pale. He turned to the +dentist, his eyes wide. + +"By God, pardner," he exclaimed, breathlessly. "By God--" he broke off +abruptly. + +"That's what you been looking for, ain't it?" asked the dentist. + +"LOOKING for! LOOKING for!" Cribbens checked himself. "That's SLATE all +right, and that's granodiorite, I know"--he bent down and examined the +rock--"and here's the quartz between 'em; there can't be no mistake +about that. Gi' me that hammer," he cried, excitedly. "Come on, git to +work. Jab into the quartz with your pick; git out some chunks of it." +Cribbens went down on his hands and knees, attacking the quartz vein +furiously. The dentist followed his example, swinging his pick with +enormous force, splintering the rocks at every stroke. Cribbens was +talking to himself in his excitement. + +"Got you THIS time, you son of a gun! By God! I guess we got you THIS +time, at last. Looks like it, anyhow. GET a move on, pardner. There +ain't anybody 'round, is there? Hey?" Without looking, he drew his +revolver and threw it to the dentist. "Take the gun an' look around, +pardner. If you see any son of a gun ANYWHERE, PLUG him. This yere's OUR +claim. I guess we got it THIS tide, pardner. Come on." He gathered up +the chunks of quartz he had broken out, and put them in his hat and +started towards their camp. The two went along with great strides, +hurrying as fast as they could over the uneven ground. + +"I don' know," exclaimed Cribbens, breathlessly, "I don' want to say too +much. Maybe we're fooled. Lord, that damn camp's a long ways off. Oh, I +ain't goin' to fool along this way. Come on, pardner." He broke into a +run. McTeague followed at a lumbering gallop. Over the scorched, parched +ground, stumbling and tripping over sage-brush and sharp-pointed rocks, +under the palpitating heat of the desert sun, they ran and scrambled, +carrying the quartz lumps in their hats. + +"See any 'COLOR' in it, pardner?" gasped Cribbens. "I can't, can you? +'Twouldn't be visible nohow, I guess. Hurry up. Lord, we ain't ever +going to get to that camp." + +Finally they arrived. Cribbens dumped the quartz fragments into a pan. + +"You pestle her, pardner, an' I'll fix the scales." McTeague ground the +lumps to fine dust in the iron mortar while Cribbens set up the tiny +scales and got out the "spoons" from their outfit. + +"That's fine enough," Cribbens exclaimed, impatiently. "Now we'll spoon +her. Gi' me the water." + +Cribbens scooped up a spoonful of the fine white powder and began to +spoon it carefully. The two were on their hands and knees upon the +ground, their heads close together, still panting with excitement and +the exertion of their run. + +"Can't do it," exclaimed Cribbens, sitting back on his heels, "hand +shakes so. YOU take it, pardner. Careful, now." + +McTeague took the horn spoon and began rocking it gently in his huge +fingers, sluicing the water over the edge a little at a time, each +movement washing away a little more of the powdered quartz. The two +watched it with the intensest eagerness. + +"Don't see it yet; don't see it yet," whispered Cribbens, chewing his +mustache. "LEETLE faster, pardner. That's the ticket. Careful, steady, +now; leetle more, leetle more. Don't see color yet, do you?" + +The quartz sediment dwindled by degrees as McTeague spooned it steadily. +Then at last a thin streak of a foreign substance began to show just +along the edge. It was yellow. + +Neither spoke. Cribbens dug his nails into the sand, and ground his +mustache between his teeth. The yellow streak broadened as the quartz +sediment washed away. Cribbens whispered: + +"We got it, pardner. That's gold." + +McTeague washed the last of the white quartz dust away, and let the +water trickle after it. A pinch of gold, fine as flour, was left in the +bottom of the spoon. + +"There you are," he said. The two looked at each other. Then Cribbens +rose into the air with a great leap and a yell that could have been +heard for half a mile. + +"Yee-e-ow! We GOT it, we struck it. Pardner, we got it. Out of sight. +We're millionaires." He snatched up his revolver and fired it with +inconceivable rapidity. "PUT it there, old man," he shouted, gripping +McTeague's palm. + +"That's gold, all right," muttered McTeague, studying the contents of +the spoon. + +"You bet your great-grandma's Cochin-China Chessy cat it's gold," +shouted Cribbens. "Here, now, we got a lot to do. We got to stake her +out an' put up the location notice. We'll take our full acreage, you +bet. You--we haven't weighed this yet. Where's the scales?" He weighed +the pinch of gold with shaking hands. "Two grains," he cried. "That'll +run five dollars to the ton. Rich, it's rich; it's the richest kind of +pay, pardner. We're millionaires. Why don't you say something? Why don't +you get excited? Why don't you run around an' do something?" + +"Huh!" said McTeague, rolling his eyes. "Huh! I know, I know, we've +struck it pretty rich." + +"Come on," exclaimed Cribbens, jumping up again. "We'll stake her out +an' put up the location notice. Lord, suppose anyone should have come +on her while we've been away." He reloaded his revolver deliberately. +"We'll drop HIM all right, if there's anyone fooling round there; I'll +tell you those right now. Bring the rifle, pardner, an' if you see +anyone, PLUG him, an' ask him what he wants afterward." + +They hurried back to where they had made their discovery. + +"To think," exclaimed Cribbens, as he drove the first stake, "to think +those other mushheads had their camp within gunshot of her and never +located her. Guess they didn't know the meaning of a 'contact.' Oh, I +knew I was solid on 'contacts.'" + +They staked out their claim, and Cribbens put up the notice of location. +It was dark before they were through. Cribbens broke off some more +chunks of quarts in the vein. + +"I'll spoon this too, just for the fun of it, when I get home," he +explained, as they tramped back to the camp. + +"Well," said the dentist, "we got the laugh on those cowboys." + +"Have we?" shouted Cribbens. "HAVE we? Just wait and see the rush for +this place when we tell 'em about it down in Keeler. Say, what'll we +call her?" + +"I don' know, I don' know." + +"We might call her the 'Last Chance.' 'Twas our last chance, wasn't +it? We'd 'a' gone antelope shooting tomorrow, and the next day we'd +'a'--say, what you stopping for?" he added, interrupting himself. +"What's up?" + +The dentist had paused abruptly on the crest of a canyon. Cribbens, +looking back, saw him standing motionless in his tracks. + +"What's up?" asked Cribbens a second time. + +McTeague slowly turned his head and looked over one shoulder, then over +the other. Suddenly he wheeled sharply about, cocking the Winchester and +tossing it to his shoulder. Cribbens ran back to his side, whipping out +his revolver. + +"What is it?" he cried. "See anybody?" He peered on ahead through the +gathering twilight. + +"No, no." + +"Hear anything?" + +"No, didn't hear anything." + +"What is it then? What's up?" + +"I don' know, I don' know," muttered the dentist, lowering the rifle. +"There was something." + +"What?" + +"Something--didn't you notice?" + +"Notice what?" + +"I don' know. Something--something or other." + +"Who? What? Notice what? What did you see?" + +The dentist let down the hammer of the rifle. + +"I guess it wasn't anything," he said rather foolishly. + +"What d'you think you saw--anybody on the claim?" + +"I didn't see anything. I didn't hear anything either. I had an idea, +that's all; came all of a sudden, like that. Something, I don' know +what." + +"I guess you just imagined something. There ain't anybody within twenty +miles of us, I guess." + +"Yes, I guess so, just imagined it, that's the word." + +Half an hour later they had the fire going. McTeague was frying +strips of bacon over the coals, and Cribbens was still chattering and +exclaiming over their great strike. All at once McTeague put down the +frying-pan. + +"What's that?" he growled. + +"Hey? What's what?" exclaimed Cribbens, getting up. + +"Didn't you notice something?" + +"Where?" + +"Off there." The dentist made a vague gesture toward the eastern +horizon. "Didn't you hear something--I mean see something--I mean--" + +"What's the matter with you, pardner?" + +"Nothing. I guess I just imagined it." + +But it was not imagination. Until midnight the partners lay broad awake, +rolled in their blankets under the open sky, talking and discussing and +making plans. At last Cribbens rolled over on his side and slept. The +dentist could not sleep. + +What! It was warning him again, that strange sixth sense, that obscure +brute instinct. It was aroused again and clamoring to be obeyed. Here, +in these desolate barren hills, twenty miles from the nearest human +being, it stirred and woke and rowelled him to be moving on. It had +goaded him to flight from the Big Dipper mine, and he had obeyed. But +now it was different; now he had suddenly become rich; he had lighted +on a treasure--a treasure far more valuable than the Big Dipper mine +itself. How was he to leave that? He could not move on now. He turned +about in his blankets. No, he would not move on. Perhaps it was his +fancy, after all. He saw nothing, heard nothing. The emptiness of +primeval desolation stretched from him leagues and leagues upon either +hand. The gigantic silence of the night lay close over everything, like +a muffling Titanic palm. Of what was he suspicious? In that treeless +waste an object could be seen at half a day's journey distant. In that +vast silence the click of a pebble was as audible as a pistol-shot. And +yet there was nothing, nothing. + +The dentist settled himself in his blankets and tried to sleep. In five +minutes he was sitting up, staring into the blue-gray shimmer of the +moonlight, straining his ears, watching and listening intently. Nothing +was in sight. The browned and broken flanks of the Panamint hills lay +quiet and familiar under the moon. The burro moved its head with a +clinking of its bell; and McTeagues mule, dozing on three legs, changed +its weight to another foot, with a long breath. Everything fell silent +again. + +"What is it?" muttered the dentist. "If I could only see something, hear +something." + +He threw off the blankets, and, rising, climbed to the summit of the +nearest hill and looked back in the direction in which he and Cribbens +had travelled a fortnight before. For half an hour he waited, watching +and listening in vain. But as he returned to camp, and prepared to roll +his blankets about him, the strange impulse rose in him again abruptly, +never so strong, never so insistent. It seemed as though he were bitted +and ridden; as if some unseen hand were turning him toward the east; +some unseen heel spurring him to precipitate and instant flight. + +Flight from what? "No," he muttered under his breath. "Go now and leave +the claim, and leave a fortune! What a fool I'd be, when I can't see +anything or hear anything. To leave a fortune! No, I won't. No, by God!" +He drew Cribbens's Winchester toward him and slipped a cartridge into +the magazine. + +"No," he growled. "Whatever happens, I'm going to stay. If anybody +comes--" He depressed the lever of the rifle, and sent the cartridge +clashing into the breech. + +"I ain't going to sleep," he muttered under his mustache. "I can't +sleep; I'll watch." He rose a second time, clambered to the nearest +hilltop and sat down, drawing the blanket around him, and laying the +Winchester across his knees. The hours passed. The dentist sat on the +hilltop a motionless, crouching figure, inky black against the pale +blur of the sky. By and by the edge of the eastern horizon began to grow +blacker and more distinct in out-line. The dawn was coming. Once more +McTeague felt the mysterious intuition of approaching danger; an unseen +hand seemed reining his head eastward; a spur was in his flanks that +seemed to urge him to hurry, hurry, hurry. The influence grew stronger +with every moment. The dentist set his great jaws together and held his +ground. + +"No," he growled between his set teeth. "No, I'll stay." He made a long +circuit around the camp, even going as far as the first stake of the new +claim, his Winchester cocked, his ears pricked, his eyes alert. There +was nothing; yet as plainly as though it were shouted at the very nape +of his neck he felt an enemy. It was not fear. McTeague was not afraid. + +"If I could only SEE something--somebody," he muttered, as he held the +cocked rifle ready, "I--I'd show him." + +He returned to camp. Cribbens was snoring. The burro had come down +to the stream for its morning drink. The mule was awake and browsing. +McTeague stood irresolutely by the cold ashes of the camp-fire, looking +from side to side with all the suspicion and wariness of a tracked stag. +Stronger and stronger grew the strange impulse. It seemed to him that on +the next instant he MUST perforce wheel sharply eastward and rush away +headlong in a clumsy, lumbering gallop. He fought against it with all +the ferocious obstinacy of his simple brute nature. + +"Go, and leave the mine? Go and leave a million dollars? No, NO, I won't +go. No, I'll stay. Ah," he exclaimed, under his breath, with a shake +of his huge head, like an exasperated and harassed brute, "ah, show +yourself, will you?" He brought the rifle to his shoulder and covered +point after point along the range of hills to the west. "Come on, show +yourself. Come on a little, all of you. I ain't afraid of you; but don't +skulk this way. You ain't going to drive me away from my mine. I'm going +to stay." + +An hour passed. Then two. The stars winked out, and the dawn whitened. +The air became warmer. The whole east, clean of clouds, flamed +opalescent from horizon to zenith, crimson at the base, where the earth +blackened against it; at the top fading from pink to pale yellow, to +green, to light blue, to the turquoise iridescence of the desert sky. +The long, thin shadows of the early hours drew backward like receding +serpents, then suddenly the sun looked over the shoulder of the world, +and it was day. + +At that moment McTeague was already eight miles away from the camp, +going steadily eastward. He was descending the lowest spurs of the +Panamint hills, following an old and faint cattle trail. Before him he +drove his mule, laden with blankets, provisions for six days, Cribben's +rifle, and a canteen full of water. Securely bound to the pommel of the +saddle was the canvas sack with its precious five thousand dollars, all +in twenty-dollar gold pieces. But strange enough in that horrid waste +of sand and sage was the object that McTeague himself persistently +carried--the canary in its cage, about which he had carefully wrapped a +couple of old flour-bags. + +At about five o'clock that morning McTeague had crossed several trails +which seemed to be converging, and, guessing that they led to a water +hole, had followed one of them and had brought up at a sort of small +sundried sink which nevertheless contained a little water at the bottom. +He had watered the mule here, refilled the canteen, and drank deep +himself. He had also dampened the old flour-sacks around the bird cage +to protect the little canary as far as possible from the heat that he +knew would increase now with every hour. He had made ready to go forward +again, but had paused irresolute again, hesitating for the last time. + +"I'm a fool," he growled, scowling back at the range behind him. "I'm +a fool. What's the matter with me? I'm just walking right away from a +million dollars. I know it's there. No, by God!" he exclaimed, savagely, +"I ain't going to do it. I'm going back. I can't leave a mine like +that." He had wheeled the mule about, and had started to return on +his tracks, grinding his teeth fiercely, inclining his head forward as +though butting against a wind that would beat him back. "Go on, go on," +he cried, sometimes addressing the mule, sometimes himself. "Go on, go +back, go back. I WILL go back." It was as though he were climbing a +hill that grew steeper with every stride. The strange impelling instinct +fought his advance yard by yard. By degrees the dentist's steps grew +slower; he stopped, went forward again cautiously, almost feeling his +way, like someone approaching a pit in the darkness. He stopped again, +hesitating, gnashing his teeth, clinching his fists with blind fury. +Suddenly he turned the mule about, and once more set his face to the +eastward. + +"I can't," he cried aloud to the desert; "I can't, I can't. It's +stronger than I am. I CAN'T go back. Hurry now, hurry, hurry, hurry." + +He hastened on furtively, his head and shoulders bent. At times one +could almost say he crouched as he pushed forward with long strides; +now and then he even looked over his shoulder. Sweat rolled from him, +he lost his hat, and the matted mane of thick yellow hair swept over his +forehead and shaded his small, twinkling eyes. At times, with a vague, +nearly automatic gesture, he reached his hand forward, the fingers +prehensile, and directed towards the horizon, as if he would clutch it +and draw it nearer; and at intervals he muttered, "Hurry, hurry, hurry +on, hurry on." For now at last McTeague was afraid. + +His plans were uncertain. He remembered what Cribbens had said about the +Armagosa Mountains in the country on the other side of Death Valley. It +was all hell to get into that country, Cribbens had said, and not many +men went there, because of the terrible valley of alkali that barred +the way, a horrible vast sink of white sand and salt below even the sea +level, the dry bed, no doubt, of some prehistoric lake. But McTeague +resolved to make a circuit of the valley, keeping to the south, until he +should strike the Armagosa River. He would make a circuit of the valley +and come up on the other side. He would get into that country around +Gold Mountain in the Armagosa hills, barred off from the world by the +leagues of the red-hot alkali of Death Valley. "They" would hardly reach +him there. He would stay at Gold Mountain two or three months, and then +work his way down into Mexico. + +McTeague tramped steadily forward, still descending the lower +irregularities of the Panamint Range. By nine o'clock the slope +flattened out abruptly; the hills were behind him; before him, to the +east, all was level. He had reached the region where even the sand and +sage-brush begin to dwindle, giving place to white, powdered alkali. +The trails were numerous, but old and faint; and they had been made by +cattle, not by men. They led in all directions but one--north, south, +and west; but not one, however faint, struck out towards the valley. + +"If I keep along the edge of the hills where these trails are," muttered +the dentist, "I ought to find water up in the arroyos from time to +time." + +At once he uttered an exclamation. The mule had begun to squeal and lash +out with alternate hoofs, his eyes rolling, his ears flattened. He ran a +few steps, halted, and squealed again. Then, suddenly wheeling at right +angles, set off on a jog trot to the north, squealing and kicking from +time to time. McTeague ran after him shouting and swearing, but for a +long time the mule would not allow himself to be caught. He seemed more +bewildered than frightened. + +"He's eatun some of that loco-weed that Cribbens spoke about," panted +McTeague. "Whoa, there; steady, you." At length the mule stopped of his +own accord, and seemed to come to his senses again. McTeague came up and +took the bridle rein, speaking to him and rubbing his nose. + +"There, there, what's the matter with you?" The mule was docile again. +McTeague washed his mouth and set forward once more. + +The day was magnificent. From horizon to horizon was one vast span of +blue, whitening as it dipped earthward. Miles upon miles to the east +and southeast the desert unrolled itself, white, naked, inhospitable, +palpitating and shimmering under the sun, unbroken by so much as a rock +or cactus stump. In the distance it assumed all manner of faint colors, +pink, purple, and pale orange. To the west rose the Panamint Range, +sparsely sprinkled with gray sagebrush; here the earths and sands were +yellow, ochre, and rich, deep red, the hollows and canyons picked out +with intense blue shadows. It seemed strange that such barrenness +could exhibit this radiance of color, but nothing could have been more +beautiful than the deep red of the higher bluffs and ridges, seamed with +purple shadows, standing sharply out against the pale-blue whiteness of +the horizon. + +By nine o'clock the sun stood high in the sky. The heat was intense; the +atmosphere was thick and heavy with it. McTeague gasped for breath and +wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead, his cheeks, and his +neck. Every inch and pore of his skin was tingling and pricking under +the merciless lash of the sun's rays. + +"If it gets much hotter," he muttered, with a long breath, "if it gets +much hotter, I--I don' know--" He wagged his head and wiped the sweat +from his eyelids, where it was running like tears. + +The sun rose higher; hour by hour, as the dentist tramped steadily on, +the heat increased. The baked dry sand crackled into innumerable tiny +flakes under his feet. The twigs of the sage-brush snapped like brittle +pipestems as he pushed through them. It grew hotter. At eleven the earth +was like the surface of a furnace; the air, as McTeague breathed it in, +was hot to his lips and the roof of his mouth. The sun was a disk +of molten brass swimming in the burnt-out blue of the sky. McTeague +stripped off his woollen shirt, and even unbuttoned his flannel +undershirt, tying a handkerchief loosely about his neck. + +"Lord!" he exclaimed. "I never knew it COULD get as hot as this." + +The heat grew steadily fiercer; all distant objects were visibly +shimmering and palpitating under it. At noon a mirage appeared on the +hills to the northwest. McTeague halted the mule, and drank from the +tepid water in the canteen, dampening the sack around the canary's cage. +As soon as he ceased his tramp and the noise of his crunching, grinding +footsteps died away, the silence, vast, illimitable, enfolded him like +an immeasurable tide. From all that gigantic landscape, that colossal +reach of baking sand, there arose not a single sound. Not a twig +rattled, not an insect hummed, not a bird or beast invaded that huge +solitude with call or cry. Everything as far as the eye could reach, +to north, to south, to east, and west, lay inert, absolutely quiet and +moveless under the remorseless scourge of the noon sun. The very shadows +shrank away, hiding under sage-bushes, retreating to the farthest nooks +and crevices in the canyons of the hills. All the world was one gigantic +blinding glare, silent, motionless. "If it gets much hotter," murmured +the dentist again, moving his head from side to side, "if it gets much +hotter, I don' know what I'll do." + +Steadily the heat increased. At three o'clock it was even more terrible +than it had been at noon. + +"Ain't it EVER going to let up?" groaned the dentist, rolling his eyes +at the sky of hot blue brass. Then, as he spoke, the stillness was +abruptly stabbed through and through by a shrill sound that seemed to +come from all sides at once. It ceased; then, as McTeague took another +forward step, began again with the suddenness of a blow, shriller, +nearer at hand, a hideous, prolonged note that brought both man and mule +to an instant halt. + +"I know what THAT is," exclaimed the dentist. His eyes searched the +ground swiftly until he saw what he expected he should see--the round +thick coil, the slowly waving clover-shaped head and erect whirring tail +with its vibrant rattles. + +For fully thirty seconds the man and snake remained looking into each +other's eyes. Then the snake uncoiled and swiftly wound from sight +amidst the sagebrush. McTeague drew breath again, and his eyes once more +beheld the illimitable leagues of quivering sand and alkali. + +"Good Lord! What a country!" he exclaimed. But his voice was trembling +as he urged forward the mule once more. + +Fiercer and fiercer grew the heat as the afternoon advanced. At four +McTeague stopped again. He was dripping at every pore, but there was no +relief in perspiration. The very touch of his clothes upon his body was +unendurable. The mule's ears were drooping and his tongue lolled from +his mouth. The cattle trails seemed to be drawing together toward a +common point; perhaps a water hole was near by. + +"I'll have to lay up, sure," muttered the dentist. "I ain't made to +travel in such heat as this." + +He drove the mule up into one of the larger canyons and halted in the +shadow of a pile of red rock. After a long search he found water, a few +quarts, warm and brackish, at the bottom of a hollow of sunwracked mud; +it was little more than enough to water the mule and refill his canteen. +Here he camped, easing the mule of the saddle, and turning him loose +to find what nourishment he might. A few hours later the sun set in a +cloudless glory of red and gold, and the heat became by degrees less +intolerable. McTeague cooked his supper, chiefly coffee and bacon, and +watched the twilight come on, revelling in the delicious coolness of +the evening. As he spread his blankets on the ground he resolved that +hereafter he would travel only at night, laying up in the daytime in the +shade of the canyons. He was exhausted with his terrible day's march. +Never in his life had sleep seemed so sweet to him. + +But suddenly he was broad awake, his jaded senses all alert. + +"What was that?" he muttered. "I thought I heard something--saw +something." + +He rose to his feet, reaching for the Winchester. Desolation lay still +around him. There was not a sound but his own breathing; on the face of +the desert not a grain of sand was in motion. McTeague looked furtively +and quickly from side to side, his teeth set, his eyes rolling. Once +more the rowel was in his flanks, once more an unseen hand reined him +toward the east. After all the miles of that dreadful day's flight he +was no better off than when he started. If anything, he was worse, for +never had that mysterious instinct in him been more insistent than now; +never had the impulse toward precipitate flight been stronger; never had +the spur bit deeper. Every nerve of his body cried aloud for rest; yet +every instinct seemed aroused and alive, goading him to hurry on, to +hurry on. + +"What IS it, then? What is it?" he cried, between his teeth. "Can't I +ever get rid of you? Ain't I EVER going to shake you off? Don' keep it +up this way. Show yourselves. Let's have it out right away. Come on. I +ain't afraid if you'll only come on; but don't skulk this way." Suddenly +he cried aloud in a frenzy of exasperation, "Damn you, come on, will +you? Come on and have it out." His rifle was at his shoulder, he was +covering bush after bush, rock after rock, aiming at every denser +shadow. All at once, and quite involuntarily, his forefinger crooked, +and the rifle spoke and flamed. The canyons roared back the echo, +tossing it out far over the desert in a rippling, widening wave of +sound. + +McTeague lowered the rifle hastily, with an exclamation of dismay. + +"You fool," he said to himself, "you fool. You've done it now. They +could hear that miles away. You've done it now." + +He stood listening intently, the rifle smoking in his hands. The last +echo died away. The smoke vanished, the vast silence closed upon the +passing echoes of the rifle as the ocean closes upon a ship's wake. +Nothing moved; yet McTeague bestirred himself sharply, rolling up his +blankets, resaddling the mule, getting his outfit together again. From +time to time he muttered: + +"Hurry now; hurry on. You fool, you've done it now. They could hear that +miles away. Hurry now. They ain't far off now." + +As he depressed the lever of the rifle to reload it, he found that the +magazine was empty. He clapped his hands to his sides, feeling rapidly +first in one pocket, then in another. He had forgotten to take extra +cartridges with him. McTeague swore under his breath as he flung the +rifle away. Henceforth he must travel unarmed. + +A little more water had gathered in the mud hole near which he had +camped. He watered the mule for the last time and wet the sacks around +the canary's cage. Then once more he set forward. + +But there was a change in the direction of McTeague's flight. Hitherto +he had held to the south, keeping upon the very edge of the hills; +now he turned sharply at right angles. The slope fell away beneath his +hurrying feet; the sage-brush dwindled, and at length ceased; the sand +gave place to a fine powder, white as snow; and an hour after he +had fired the rifle his mule's hoofs were crisping and cracking the +sun-baked flakes of alkali on the surface of Death Valley. + +Tracked and harried, as he felt himself to be, from one camping place to +another, McTeague had suddenly resolved to make one last effort to rid +himself of the enemy that seemed to hang upon his heels. He would strike +straight out into that horrible wilderness where even the beasts were +afraid. He would cross Death Valley at once and put its arid wastes +between him and his pursuer. + +"You don't dare follow me now," he muttered, as he hurried on. "Let's +see you come out HERE after me." + +He hurried on swiftly, urging the mule to a rapid racking walk. Towards +four o'clock the sky in front of him began to flush pink and golden. +McTeague halted and breakfasted, pushing on again immediately afterward. +The dawn flamed and glowed like a brazier, and the sun rose a vast +red-hot coal floating in fire. An hour passed, then another, and +another. It was about nine o'clock. Once more the dentist paused, and +stood panting and blowing, his arms dangling, his eyes screwed up and +blinking as he looked about him. + +Far behind him the Panamint hills were already but blue hummocks on the +horizon. Before him and upon either side, to the north and to the east +and to the south, stretched primordial desolation. League upon league +the infinite reaches of dazzling white alkali laid themselves out like +an immeasurable scroll unrolled from horizon to horizon; not a bush, +not a twig relieved that horrible monotony. Even the sand of the desert +would have been a welcome sight; a single clump of sage-brush would +have fascinated the eye; but this was worse than the desert. It was +abominable, this hideous sink of alkali, this bed of some primeval lake +lying so far below the level of the ocean. The great mountains of Placer +County had been merely indifferent to man; but this awful sink of alkali +was openly and unreservedly iniquitous and malignant. + +McTeague had told himself that the heat upon the lower slopes of the +Panamint had been dreadful; here in Death Valley it became a thing of +terror. There was no longer any shadow but his own. He was scorched +and parched from head to heel. It seemed to him that the smart of his +tortured body could not have been keener if he had been flayed. + +"If it gets much hotter," he muttered, wringing the sweat from his thick +fell of hair and mustache, "if it gets much hotter, I don' know what +I'll do." He was thirsty, and drank a little from his canteen. "I ain't +got any too much water," he murmured, shaking the canteen. "I got to get +out of this place in a hurry, sure." + +By eleven o'clock the heat had increased to such an extent that McTeague +could feel the burning of the ground come pringling and stinging through +the soles of his boots. Every step he took threw up clouds of impalpable +alkali dust, salty and choking, so that he strangled and coughed and +sneezed with it. + +"LORD! what a country!" exclaimed the dentist. + +An hour later, the mule stopped and lay down, his jaws wide open, his +ears dangling. McTeague washed his mouth with a handful of water and for +a second time since sunrise wetted the flour-sacks around the bird cage. +The air was quivering and palpitating like that in the stoke-hold of a +steamship. The sun, small and contracted, swam molten overhead. + +"I can't stand it," said McTeague at length. "I'll have to stop and make +some kinda shade." + +The mule was crouched upon the ground, panting rapidly, with half-closed +eyes. The dentist removed the saddle, and unrolling his blanket, propped +it up as best he could between him and the sun. As he stooped down to +crawl beneath it, his palm touched the ground. He snatched it away with +a cry of pain. The surface alkali was oven-hot; he was obliged to scoop +out a trench in it before he dared to lie down. + +By degrees the dentist began to doze. He had had little or no sleep +the night before, and the hurry of his flight under the blazing sun had +exhausted him. But his rest was broken; between waking and sleeping, all +manner of troublous images galloped through his brain. He thought he was +back in the Panamint hills again with Cribbens. They had just discovered +the mine and were returning toward camp. McTeague saw himself as another +man, striding along over the sand and sagebrush. At once he saw himself +stop and wheel sharply about, peering back suspiciously. There was +something behind him; something was following him. He looked, as it +were, over the shoulder of this other McTeague, and saw down there, in +the half light of the canyon, something dark crawling upon the ground, +an indistinct gray figure, man or brute, he did not know. Then he saw +another, and another; then another. A score of black, crawling objects +were following him, crawling from bush to bush, converging upon him. +"THEY" were after him, were closing in upon him, were within touch of +his hand, were at his feet--WERE AT HIS THROAT. + +McTeague jumped up with a shout, oversetting the blanket. There was +nothing in sight. For miles around, the alkali was empty, solitary, +quivering and shimmering under the pelting fire of the afternoon's sun. + +But once more the spur bit into his body, goading him on. There was to +be no rest, no going back, no pause, no stop. Hurry, hurry, hurry on. +The brute that in him slept so close to the surface was alive and alert, +and tugging to be gone. There was no resisting that instinct. The brute +felt an enemy, scented the trackers, clamored and struggled and fought, +and would not be gainsaid. + +"I CAN'T go on," groaned McTeague, his eyes sweeping the horizon behind +him, "I'm beat out. I'm dog tired. I ain't slept any for two nights." +But for all that he roused himself again, saddled the mule, scarcely +less exhausted than himself, and pushed on once more over the scorching +alkali and under the blazing sun. + +From that time on the fear never left him, the spur never ceased to +bite, the instinct that goaded him to fight never was dumb; hurry or +halt, it was all the same. On he went, straight on, chasing the receding +horizon; flagellated with heat; tortured with thirst; crouching over; +looking furtively behind, and at times reaching his hand forward, the +fingers prehensile, grasping, as it were, toward the horizon, that +always fled before him. + +The sun set upon the third day of McTeague's flight, night came on, the +stars burned slowly into the cool dark purple of the sky. The gigantic +sink of white alkali glowed like snow. McTeague, now far into the +desert, held steadily on, swinging forward with great strides. His +enormous strength held him doggedly to his work. Sullenly, with his huge +jaws gripping stolidly together, he pushed on. At midnight he stopped. + +"Now," he growled, with a certain desperate defiance, as though he +expected to be heard, "now, I'm going to lay up and get some sleep. You +can come or not." + +He cleared away the hot surface alkali, spread out his blanket, and +slept until the next day's heat aroused him. His water was so low that +he dared not make coffee now, and so breakfasted without it. Until ten +o'clock he tramped forward, then camped again in the shade of one of +the rare rock ledges, and "lay up" during the heat of the day. By five +o'clock he was once more on the march. + +He travelled on for the greater part of that night, stopping only once +towards three in the morning to water the mule from the canteen. Again +the red-hot day burned up over the horizon. Even at six o'clock it was +hot. + +"It's going to be worse than ever to-day," he groaned. "I wish I could +find another rock to camp by. Ain't I ever going to get out of this +place?" + +There was no change in the character of the desert. Always the same +measureless leagues of white-hot alkali stretched away toward the +horizon on every hand. Here and there the flat, dazzling surface of the +desert broke and raised into long low mounds, from the summit of which +McTeague could look for miles and miles over its horrible desolation. +No shade was in sight. Not a rock, not a stone broke the monotony of the +ground. Again and again he ascended the low unevennesses, looking and +searching for a camping place, shading his eyes from the glitter of sand +and sky. + +He tramped forward a little farther, then paused at length in a hollow +between two breaks, resolving to make camp there. + +Suddenly there was a shout. + +"Hands up. By damn, I got the drop on you!" + +McTeague looked up. + +It was Marcus. + + + +CHAPTER 22 + + +Within a month after his departure from San Francisco, Marcus had "gone +in on a cattle ranch" in the Panamint Valley with an Englishman, an +acquaintance of Mr. Sieppe's. His headquarters were at a place called +Modoc, at the lower extremity of the valley, about fifty miles by trail +to the south of Keeler. + +His life was the life of a cowboy. He realized his former vision of +himself, booted, sombreroed, and revolvered, passing his days in the +saddle and the better part of his nights around the poker tables in +Modoc's one saloon. To his intense satisfaction he even involved himself +in a gun fight that arose over a disputed brand, with the result that +two fingers of his left hand were shot away. + +News from the outside world filtered slowly into the Panamint Valley, +and the telegraph had never been built beyond Keeler. At intervals one +of the local papers of Independence, the nearest large town, found its +way into the cattle camps on the ranges, and occasionally one of the +Sunday editions of a Sacramento journal, weeks old, was passed from hand +to hand. Marcus ceased to hear from the Sieppes. As for San Francisco, +it was as far from him as was London or Vienna. + +One day, a fortnight after McTeague's flight from San Francisco, Marcus +rode into Modoc, to find a group of men gathered about a notice affixed +to the outside of the Wells-Fargo office. It was an offer of reward for +the arrest and apprehension of a murderer. The crime had been committed +in San Francisco, but the man wanted had been traced as far as the +western portion of Inyo County, and was believed at that time to be in +hiding in either the Pinto or Panamint hills, in the vicinity of Keeler. + +Marcus reached Keeler on the afternoon of that same day. Half a mile +from the town his pony fell and died from exhaustion. Marcus did not +stop even to remove the saddle. He arrived in the barroom of the hotel +in Keeler just after the posse had been made up. The sheriff, who had +come down from Independence that morning, at first refused his offer of +assistance. He had enough men already--too many, in fact. The country +travelled through would be hard, and it would be difficult to find water +for so many men and horses. + +"But none of you fellers have ever seen um," vociferated Marcus, +quivering with excitement and wrath. "I know um well. I could pick +um out in a million. I can identify um, and you fellers can't. And I +knew--I knew--good GOD! I knew that girl--his wife--in Frisco. She's +a cousin of mine, she is--she was--I thought once of--This thing's a +personal matter of mine--an' that money he got away with, that five +thousand, belongs to me by rights. Oh, never mind, I'm going along. Do +you hear?" he shouted, his fists raised, "I'm going along, I tell you. +There ain't a man of you big enough to stop me. Let's see you try +and stop me going. Let's see you once, any two of you." He filled the +barroom with his clamor. + +"Lord love you, come along, then," said the sheriff. + +The posse rode out of Keeler that same night. The keeper of the general +merchandise store, from whom Marcus had borrowed a second pony, had +informed them that Cribbens and his partner, whose description tallied +exactly with that given in the notice of reward, had outfitted at +his place with a view to prospecting in the Panamint hills. The posse +trailed them at once to their first camp at the head of the valley. It +was an easy matter. It was only necessary to inquire of the cowboys and +range riders of the valley if they had seen and noted the passage of two +men, one of whom carried a bird cage. + +Beyond this first camp the trail was lost, and a week was wasted in +a bootless search around the mine at Gold Gulch, whither it seemed +probable the partners had gone. Then a travelling peddler, who included +Gold Gulch in his route, brought in the news of a wonderful strike of +gold-bearing quartz some ten miles to the south on the western slope of +the range. Two men from Keeler had made a strike, the peddler had said, +and added the curious detail that one of the men had a canary bird in a +cage with him. + +The posse made Cribbens's camp three days after the unaccountable +disappearance of his partner. Their man was gone, but the narrow hoof +prints of a mule, mixed with those of huge hob-nailed boots, could be +plainly followed in the sand. Here they picked up the trail and held +to it steadily till the point was reached where, instead of tending +southward it swerved abruptly to the east. The men could hardly believe +their eyes. + +"It ain't reason," exclaimed the sheriff. "What in thunder is he up to? +This beats me. Cutting out into Death Valley at this time of year." + +"He's heading for Gold Mountain over in the Armagosa, sure." + +The men decided that this conjecture was true. It was the only inhabited +locality in that direction. A discussion began as to the further +movements of the posse. + +"I don't figure on going into that alkali sink with no eight men and +horses," declared the sheriff. "One man can't carry enough water to take +him and his mount across, let alone EIGHT. No, sir. Four couldn't do +it. No, THREE couldn't. We've got to make a circuit round the valley and +come up on the other side and head him off at Gold Mountain. That's what +we got to do, and ride like hell to do it, too." + +But Marcus protested with all the strength of his lungs against +abandoning the trail now that they had found it. He argued that they +were but a day and a half behind their man now. There was no possibility +of their missing the trail--as distinct in the white alkali as in snow. +They could make a dash into the valley, secure their man, and return +long before their water failed them. He, for one, would not give up the +pursuit, now that they were so close. In the haste of the departure +from Keeler the sheriff had neglected to swear him in. He was under no +orders. He would do as he pleased. + +"Go on, then, you darn fool," answered the sheriff. "We'll cut on round +the valley, for all that. It's a gamble he'll be at Gold Mountain before +you're half way across. But if you catch him, here"--he tossed Marcus a +pair of handcuffs--"put 'em on him and bring him back to Keeler." + +Two days after he had left the posse, and when he was already far out +in the desert, Marcus's horse gave out. In the fury of his impatience he +had spurred mercilessly forward on the trail, and on the morning of the +third day found that his horse was unable to move. The joints of his +legs seemed locked rigidly. He would go his own length, stumbling and +interfering, then collapse helplessly upon the ground with a pitiful +groan. He was used up. + +Marcus believed himself to be close upon McTeague now. The ashes at his +last camp had still been smoldering. Marcus took what supplies of food +and water he could carry, and hurried on. But McTeague was farther ahead +than he had guessed, and by evening of his third day upon the desert +Marcus, raging with thirst, had drunk his last mouthful of water and had +flung away the empty canteen. + +"If he ain't got water with um," he said to himself as he pushed on, "If +he ain't got water with um, by damn! I'll be in a bad way. I will, for a +fact." + +* * * * * * * * * * * * * + +At Marcus's shout McTeague looked up and around him. For the instant +he saw no one. The white glare of alkali was still unbroken. Then his +swiftly rolling eyes lighted upon a head and shoulder that protruded +above the low crest of the break directly in front of him. A man +was there, lying at full length upon the ground, covering him with +a revolver. For a few seconds McTeague looked at the man stupidly, +bewildered, confused, as yet without definite thought. Then he noticed +that the man was singularly like Marcus Schouler. It WAS Marcus +Schouler. How in the world did Marcus Schouler come to be in that +desert? What did he mean by pointing a pistol at him that way? He'd +best look out or the pistol would go off. Then his thoughts readjusted +themselves with a swiftness born of a vivid sense of danger. Here was +the enemy at last, the tracker he had felt upon his footsteps. Now +at length he had "come on" and shown himself, after all those days of +skulking. McTeague was glad of it. He'd show him now. They two would +have it out right then and there. His rifle! He had thrown it away long +since. He was helpless. Marcus had ordered him to put up his hands. +If he did not, Marcus would kill him. He had the drop on him. McTeague +stared, scowling fiercely at the levelled pistol. He did not move. + +"Hands up!" shouted Marcus a second time. "I'll give you three to do it +in. One, two----" + +Instinctively McTeague put his hands above his head. + +Marcus rose and came towards him over the break. + +"Keep 'em up," he cried. "If you move 'em once I'll kill you, sure." + +He came up to McTeague and searched him, going through his pockets; but +McTeague had no revolver; not even a hunting knife. + +"What did you do with that money, with that five thousand dollars?" + +"It's on the mule," answered McTeague, sullenly. + +Marcus grunted, and cast a glance at the mule, who was standing some +distance away, snorting nervously, and from time to time flattening his +long ears. + +"Is that it there on the horn of the saddle, there in that canvas sack?" +Marcus demanded. + +"Yes, that's it." + +A gleam of satisfaction came into Marcus's eyes, and under his breath he +muttered: + +"Got it at last." + +He was singularly puzzled to know what next to do. He had got McTeague. +There he stood at length, with his big hands over his head, scowling at +him sullenly. Marcus had caught his enemy, had run down the man for whom +every officer in the State had been looking. What should he do with him +now? He couldn't keep him standing there forever with his hands over his +head. + +"Got any water?" he demanded. + +"There's a canteen of water on the mule." + +Marcus moved toward the mule and made as if to reach the bridle-rein. +The mule squealed, threw up his head, and galloped to a little distance, +rolling his eyes and flattening his ears. + +Marcus swore wrathfully. + +"He acted that way once before," explained McTeague, his hands still in +the air. "He ate some loco-weed back in the hills before I started." + +For a moment Marcus hesitated. While he was catching the mule McTeague +might get away. But where to, in heaven's name? A rat could not hide on +the surface of that glistening alkali, and besides, all McTeague's store +of provisions and his priceless supply of water were on the mule. Marcus +ran after the mule, revolver in hand, shouting and cursing. But the mule +would not be caught. He acted as if possessed, squealing, lashing out, +and galloping in wide circles, his head high in the air. + +"Come on," shouted Marcus, furious, turning back to McTeague. "Come on, +help me catch him. We got to catch him. All the water we got is on the +saddle." + +McTeague came up. + +"He's eatun some loco-weed," he repeated. "He went kinda crazy once +before." + +"If he should take it into his head to bolt and keep on running----" + +Marcus did not finish. A sudden great fear seemed to widen around and +inclose the two men. Once their water gone, the end would not be long. + +"We can catch him all right," said the dentist. "I caught him once +before." + +"Oh, I guess we can catch him," answered Marcus, reassuringly. + +Already the sense of enmity between the two had weakened in the face of +a common peril. Marcus let down the hammer of his revolver and slid it +back into the holster. + +The mule was trotting on ahead, snorting and throwing up great clouds of +alkali dust. At every step the canvas sack jingled, and McTeague's bird +cage, still wrapped in the flour-bags, bumped against the saddlepads. By +and by the mule stopped, blowing out his nostrils excitedly. + +"He's clean crazy," fumed Marcus, panting and swearing. + +"We ought to come up on him quiet," observed McTeague. + +"I'll try and sneak up," said Marcus; "two of us would scare him again. +You stay here." + +Marcus went forward a step at a time. He was almost within arm's length +of the bridle when the mule shied from him abruptly and galloped away. + +Marcus danced with rage, shaking his fists, and swearing horribly. Some +hundred yards away the mule paused and began blowing and snuffing in the +alkali as though in search of feed. Then, for no reason, he shied again, +and started off on a jog trot toward the east. + +"We've GOT to follow him," exclaimed Marcus as McTeague came up. +"There's no water within seventy miles of here." + +Then began an interminable pursuit. Mile after mile, under the terrible +heat of the desert sun, the two men followed the mule, racked with a +thirst that grew fiercer every hour. A dozen times they could almost +touch the canteen of water, and as often the distraught animal shied +away and fled before them. At length Marcus cried: + +"It's no use, we can't catch him, and we're killing ourselves with +thirst. We got to take our chances." He drew his revolver from its +holster, cocked it, and crept forward. + +"Steady, now," said McTeague; "it won' do to shoot through the canteen." + +Within twenty yards Marcus paused, made a rest of his left forearm and +fired. + +"You GOT him," cried McTeague. "No, he's up again. Shoot him again. He's +going to bolt." + +Marcus ran on, firing as he ran. The mule, one foreleg trailing, +scrambled along, squealing and snorting. Marcus fired his last shot. The +mule pitched forward upon his head, then, rolling sideways, fell upon +the canteen, bursting it open and spilling its entire contents into the +sand. + +Marcus and McTeague ran up, and Marcus snatched the battered canteen +from under the reeking, bloody hide. There was no water left. Marcus +flung the canteen from him and stood up, facing McTeague. There was a +pause. + +"We're dead men," said Marcus. + +McTeague looked from him out over the desert. Chaotic desolation +stretched from them on either hand, flaming and glaring with the +afternoon heat. There was the brazen sky and the leagues upon leagues of +alkali, leper white. There was nothing more. They were in the heart of +Death Valley. + +"Not a drop of water," muttered McTeague; "not a drop of water." + +"We can drink the mule's blood," said Marcus. "It's been done before. +But--but--" he looked down at the quivering, gory body--"but I ain't +thirsty enough for that yet." + +"Where's the nearest water?" + +"Well, it's about a hundred miles or more back of us in the Panamint +hills," returned Marcus, doggedly. "We'd be crazy long before we reached +it. I tell you, we're done for, by damn, we're DONE for. We ain't ever +going to get outa here." + +"Done for?" murmured the other, looking about stupidly. "Done for, +that's the word. Done for? Yes, I guess we're done for." + +"What are we going to do NOW?" exclaimed Marcus, sharply, after a while. + +"Well, let's--let's be moving along--somewhere." + +"WHERE, I'd like to know? What's the good of moving on?" + +"What's the good of stopping here?" + +There was a silence. + +"Lord, it's hot," said the dentist, finally, wiping his forehead with +the back of his hand. Marcus ground his teeth. + +"Done for," he muttered; "done for." + +"I never WAS so thirsty," continued McTeague. "I'm that dry I can hear +my tongue rubbing against the roof of my mouth." + +"Well, we can't stop here," said Marcus, finally; "we got to go +somewhere. We'll try and get back, but it ain't no manner of use. +Anything we want to take along with us from the mule? We can----" + +Suddenly he paused. In an instant the eyes of the two doomed men had met +as the same thought simultaneously rose in their minds. The canvas sack +with its five thousand dollars was still tied to the horn of the saddle. + +Marcus had emptied his revolver at the mule, and though he still wore +his cartridge belt, he was for the moment as unarmed as McTeague. + +"I guess," began McTeague coming forward a step, "I guess, even if we +are done for, I'll take--some of my truck along." + +"Hold on," exclaimed Marcus, with rising aggressiveness. "Let's talk +about that. I ain't so sure about who that--who that money belongs to." + +"Well, I AM, you see," growled the dentist. + +The old enmity between the two men, their ancient hate, was flaming up +again. + +"Don't try an' load that gun either," cried McTeague, fixing Marcus with +his little eyes. + +"Then don't lay your finger on that sack," shouted the other. "You're my +prisoner, do you understand? You'll do as I say." Marcus had drawn the +handcuffs from his pocket, and stood ready with his revolver held as +a club. "You soldiered me out of that money once, and played me for a +sucker, an' it's my turn now. Don't you lay your finger on that sack." + +Marcus barred McTeague's way, white with passion. McTeague did not +answer. His eyes drew to two fine, twinkling points, and his enormous +hands knotted themselves into fists, hard as wooden mallets. He moved a +step nearer to Marcus, then another. + +Suddenly the men grappled, and in another instant were rolling and +struggling upon the hot white ground. McTeague thrust Marcus backward +until he tripped and fell over the body of the dead mule. The little +bird cage broke from the saddle with the violence of their fall, and +rolled out upon the ground, the flour-bags slipping from it. McTeague +tore the revolver from Marcus's grip and struck out with it blindly. +Clouds of alkali dust, fine and pungent, enveloped the two fighting men, +all but strangling them. + +McTeague did not know how he killed his enemy, but all at once Marcus +grew still beneath his blows. Then there was a sudden last return of +energy. McTeague's right wrist was caught, something clicked upon it, +then the struggling body fell limp and motionless with a long breath. + +As McTeague rose to his feet, he felt a pull at his right wrist; +something held it fast. Looking down, he saw that Marcus in that last +struggle had found strength to handcuff their wrists together. Marcus +was dead now; McTeague was locked to the body. All about him, vast +interminable, stretched the measureless leagues of Death Valley. + +McTeague remained stupidly looking around him, now at the distant +horizon, now at the ground, now at the half-dead canary chittering +feebly in its little gilt prison. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of McTeague, by Frank Norris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MCTEAGUE *** + +***** This file should be named 165.txt or 165.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/165/ + +Produced by Pauline J. 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