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diff --git a/21116.txt b/21116.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb56b45 --- /dev/null +++ b/21116.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9439 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Easiest Way, by Eugene Walter and Arthur +Hornblow, Illustrated by Archie Gunn and Joseph Byron + + +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: The Easiest Way + A Story of Metropolitan Life + + +Author: Eugene Walter and Arthur Hornblow + + + +Release Date: April 16, 2007 [eBook #21116] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EASIEST WAY*** + + +E-text prepared by Kathryn Lybarger and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 21116-h.htm or 21116-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/1/21116/21116-h/21116-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/1/21116/21116-h.zip) + + + + + +THE EASIEST WAY + +A Story of Metropolitan Life + +by + +EUGENE WALTER and ARTHUR HORNBLOW + +Illustrations by Archie Gunn and Joseph Byron + + + + + + + +[Illustration: PICKING UP A HAT, LAURA LOOKED AT HERSELF IN THE MIRROR. + _Frontispiece. Page 251._] + + + + +W. Dillingham Company +Publishers New York +Copyright, 1911, by +G. W. Dillingham Company + + + + +_The Easiest Way_. + + + + +A FOREWORD + + +In presenting this story of a _declassee_ who attempts to redeem her +scarlet past by a disinterested, honest attachment only to meet with +dire, miserable failure, the authors wish to make it plain that their +heroine and her associates are in no way to be identified with the +dramatic profession. Laura Murdock represents the type of woman of easy +virtue who is sometimes seen behind the footlights and helps to give +the theatre a bad name. Although destitute of the slightest histrionic +talent, she styles herself an "actress" in order to better conceal her +true vocation. As a class, the earnest, hardworking men and women who +devote their lives to the dramatic art are entitled to the highest +regard and respect. No profession counts in its ranks more virtuous +women, more honorable men than the artists who give lustre to the +American stage. If such women as Laura Murdock succeed in gaining a +foothold on the boards it must be looked upon merely as an unfortunate +accident. The better element in the theatre shuns them and their +theatrical aspirations are not encouraged by reputable managers. + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + Page + +Picking up a hat, Laura looked at herself + in the mirror _Frontispiece_ 251 + +"I've bought a house for you on Riverside Drive" 86 + +She began to sew a rip in her skirt 162 + +She sank down on her knees beside him 273 + +Laura commenced to pack the trunk 307 + +John stood looking at her in silence 337 + +She crouched down motionless on the trunk 344 + + + + +THE EASIEST WAY + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The hour was late and the theatres were emptying. The crowds, coming +from every direction at once, were soon a confused, bewildered mass of +elbowing humanity. In the proximity of Broadway and Forty-second Street, +a mob of smartly-dressed people pushed unceremoniously this way and +that. They swept the sidewalks like a resistless torrent, recklessly +attempting to force a path across the carriage blocked road, darting in +and out under restive horses' heads, barely rescued by stalwart traffic +policemen from the murderous wheels of onrushing automobiles. They +scrambled into taxicabs, trains and trolleys, all impelled by a furious, +yet not unreasonable, desire to reach home with the least possible +delay. These were the wise ones. Others lingered, struggling feebly in +the whirling vortex. Not yet surfeited with the evening's amusement, +they now craved recherche gastronomical joys. With appetites keen for +the succulent, if always indigestible, dainties of after-theatre +suppers, they sought the hospitable portals of Gotham's splendidly +appointed lobster palaces which, scattered in amazing profusion along +the Great White Way, their pretentious facades flamboyantly ablaze with +light, seemed so many oases of luxurious comfort set down in the +nocturnal desert of closed shops. + +"Move on there!" thundered an irate policeman. "What the h--ll are you +blocking the way for? I've half a mind to lock you fellows up!" + +This to two grasping jehus, who, while quarrelling over a prospective +fare, had so well succeeded in interlocking their respective wheels +that a quarter-of-a-mile-long block resulted instantly. The officer, +exasperated beyond endurance, was apoplectic in the face from the too +sudden strain upon his temper. Starting angrily forward he seemed as if +about to carry out his threat, and the effect of this was magic. The +offending cabbies quickly disentangled themselves, and once more the +long string of vehicles began to move. Women screamed shrilly, as with +their escorts they dodged the horses' hoofs, the trolleys clanged their +gongs, electric-signs blinked their pictorial designs, noisy boys +yelled hoarsely "final extras!" The din was nerve racking. One had to +shout to be heard, yet no one seemed to object. Everybody was happy. +New York was merely enjoying itself. + +The rush was at its height, when two young men, perhaps weary of being +buffeted by the throngs that still pushed up Broadway, turned sharply +to the right and entered a fashionable all-night cafe. Halting for a +moment in the richly-carpeted and mirrored vestibule to divest +themselves of their outer garments, they pocketed the brass checks +handed out by a dapper page and passing on into the restaurant, quietly +took seats in an out-of-the-way corner. + +The place was already well filled. Nearly all of the small, round +tables, crowded too close for comfort, were taken, and the loud chatter +of men and women, the handling of dishes, the going and coming of +waiters, the more or less labored efforts of a _tzigane_ orchestra--all +this made a hubbub as loud as that in the busy street without. The +people eating and drinking were of the kind usually to be found in +Broadway's pleasure resorts--rich men-about-town spending their money +freely, hard-faced, square-jawed gamblers touting for business, callow +youths having their first fling in metropolitan vice, motor-car parties +taking in the sights, old roues seeking new sensations, faultlessly +dressed wine agents promoting the sale of their particular brands, a +few actors, a sprinkling of actresses of secondary importance, a bevy +of chorus girls of the "broiler" type, a number of self-styled "grass +widows" living quietly, but luxuriously on the generosity of discreet +male admirers, and others still prettier, who made no secret of their +calling, but insolently boasted of their profession being the most +ancient in the world. + +Sartorially at least, the company was eminently respectable. The men, +for the most part, wore evening dress and the women were visions of +feminine loveliness, in the latest creations of Paris modistes--gowns a +duchess might envy, hats that would tempt the virtue of a saint. All +were talking loudly, and laughing hilariously as they ate and drank, +while pale-faced, perspiring waiters ran here and there with steaming +chafing dishes and silver buckets of frozen "wine." Here champagne was +king! The frothy, golden, bubbling, hissing stuff seemed to be the only +beverage called for. No one counted the cost. Supplied with fat purses, +all flung themselves into a reckless orgy of high living and ordered +without reckoning. It was the gay rendezvous of the girls and the +Johnnies, the sporting men and the roues--in a word, the nightly +bacchanal of New York _qui s'amuse_. In the atmosphere, heavily charged +with tobacco smoke, floated a strange, indefinable perfume--an odor in +which the vulgar smell of cooking struggled for the mastery with the +subtle essences used by voluptuous women. Instantly, animalism was +aroused, the passions were inflamed. The mouth watered for luscious +_mets_ concocted by expensive _chefs_, the eye was dazzled by snowy +linen, glistening crystal and the significant smiles of red-lipped +wantons, the ear was entranced by the dulcet strains of sensuous music. +In short, a dangerous resort for any man, young or old. + +It was the Flesh Market, the public mart, to which the frail sisterhood +came in droves to sell their beauty. The sirens of Manhattan, lineal +descendants of the legendary sisters who, with their songs, lured the +ancient mariners to their doom, were there by the hundred, decked out +in all the expensive finery that individual taste could suggest and +their purses pay for. They were of all types--blonde and brunette, tall +and petite, stout and slender--to meet every demand. Mostly young they +were; some still in their teens. That was the tragedy of it. Older +women had no place there. + +Fresh arrivals poured in from the Broadway entrance. Everybody appeared +to be acquainted with everyone else; familiar greetings were exchanged +right and left. "Hello, Jack!" "Howdy, May!" "Sit down here, Grace!" +The waiters rushed away to fill orders for more wine, the orchestra +struck up another lively air, the whole establishment vibrated with +bustle and excitement. + +The two young men watched the animated scene. To one of them at least, +it was all novel and strange, a phase of life to which, heretofore, he +had been a stranger. John Madison had seen little of gilded vice in the +big cities. Although he had knocked about the world a great deal and +taken active part in many a stirring scene he had always been a clean +man. Born and bred on a Dakota farm, he was still the typical country +boy, big and vigorous in physique, with a sane, wholesome outlook on +things. + +When his mother--a penniless widow--died he was adopted by a tyrannical +uncle, a miserly farmer, who made him do chores around the homestead in +return for his keep. But the boy detested farming. His young soul +yearned for a glimpse of the great outside world, of which he had read +and knew nothing, and his desperation grew, until one day he summoned +up enough courage to run away. + +On foot, with nothing to eat, and only an occasional hitch behind a +friendly teamster's wagon, he bravely made his way to Bismarck, fifty +miles distant where, after nearly starving to death, he enlisted the +sympathies of a kindly grocer, who gave him two dollars a week and his +board to run errands. This was not much better than what he had escaped +from, but John did not care. At least it was the dawn of independence. +Industrious and faithful, he was rewarded in due time by promotion and +eventually he might have become a partner and married the grocer's +daughter, but unfortunately, or fortunately, as may be, his restless +spirit made this programme impossible of realization. + +Twenty years of age, and six feet tall in his stockings, he had muscles +like steel and nerves of iron. A tall, finely-built type of Western +manhood, he had a frank, open face, with clean-cut features, a strong +mouth, and alert, flashing eyes, that denoted a quick, nervous energy. +In repose his face was serious; when he smiled, revealing fine strong +teeth, it was prepossessing. He wore his hair rather long, and with his +loose corduroy jacket, top boots, and cowboy hat, suggested the Western +ranchman. The girls of Bismarck were all in love with him, and his mere +presence doubled the business of the store, but the young man resisted +all feminine blandishments. He was ambitious, dissatisfied and +restless, A voice within him told him that Nature intended him for +something better than selling potatoes; so, taking affectionate leave +of the grocer, he went away. + +Ten years passed. He prospered and saw a good deal of the world. He +traveled East and West, North and South. He was in Canada and down in +Mexico; he visited London, Berlin, Paris, New York and San Francisco. +His money all gone, he drifted for a time, trying his versatile hand at +everything that offered itself. He went to sea and sailed around the +Horn before the mast, he enlisted in the army and saw active service in +the Philippines. He was cowboy for a Western cattle king, and there he +learned to break wild bronchos without a saddle and split apples with a +revolver bullet at a hundred yards. He was among the pioneers in the +gold rush to Alaska and played faro in all the tough mining towns. +Sworn in as sheriff, he one day apprehended single-handed, a gang of +desperate outlaws, who attempted to hold up a train. + +It was a rough and dangerous life. He was thrown in with all sorts of +men, most of them with criminal records. He loved the excitement, yet +he never allowed his tough associates to drag him down to their own +level. He drank with them, gambled with them, but he never made a beast +of himself, as did some of the others. He always managed to keep his +own hands clean, he never lost his own self regard. He was quick on the +trigger and in time of overheated argument could go some distance with +his fists. Utterly fearless, powerful in physique, he was at all times +able to command respect. Above all, he was a respecter of women. He +never forgot what his mother once said to him. He was only a lad at the +time, but her words had never faded from his memory: "Sonny," she said, +"never forget that your mother was a woman." And he never had. In all +his relations with women in later life, he had remembered the +injunction of the mother he loved. When other men spoke lightly of +women in his presence he showed disapproval, if their character was +attacked he championed their cause, if confronted with proofs, he +flatly refused to consider them. Yet he was neither a prig nor a prude. +He enjoyed a joke as well as any one, but at the same time he did not +let his mind run in only one channel, as some men do. He pitied rather +than blamed the wretched females who frequented the miners' camps. More +sinned against than sinning, was his humane judgment of these unhappy +outcasts, and when he could, he helped them. Many a besotted creature +had him to thank when the end came and short shrift little better then +that accorded a dead dog awaited her--that at least she got a decent +burial. The boys knew his attitude on the woman question, and it was a +tribute to the regard in which they held him that, in his hearing at +least, they were decent. + +Meantime, John Madison was educating himself. There was no limit to his +ambition. With the one idea of studying law and going into politics, he +attended night schools and lectures and burned the midnight oil +devouring good books. He sent to an enterprising journal of Denver a +vividly written account of his exploit with the train robbers. With the +newspaper's cheque came an offer to join its staff. That was how John +Madison became a reporter, and incidentally explained why, on this +particular evening, he happened to be in New York. Sent East in +connection with a big political story, he had run across an old +acquaintance, Glenn Warner, a young New York lawyer, and accepted his +invitation to theatre and supper. + +"I'll take you to a swell joint," he laughed. "It'll amuse you. It's +the swiftest place in town." + +In personal appearance, the young attorney presented a sharp contrast +to his stalwart companion. Slight in physique, with sandy hair +scrupulously parted in the middle and nattily dressed, he was of the +conventional type of men colloquially described as "well groomed." That +the restaurant, and its people, were an old story to him, was apparent +by the nods he exchanged and the familiar greeting he gave the waiter. +After he had decided on the order, he proceeded to give John thumb-nail +biographies of some of the most conspicuous of those present. + +"See that fat, coarse-looking hog over there? Look--he's flashing a +bank roll thick enough to choke a horse. That's Berny Bernheim, the +bookmaker. His gambling house on West Forty-fourth Street is one of the +show places of the town. It's raided from time to time, but he always +manages to get off scot free. He has a pull with the police." + +Pointing in another direction, where a stately blonde in a big +Gainsborough hat, trimmed with white plumes, sat languidly sipping +champagne in company of a gray-haired man old enough to be her +grandfather, he went on: + +"That girl with the white feathers is Lucy Graves. Don't you +remember--five years ago--a Lucy Graves shot and killed a man, and then +hypnotised the jury into acquitting her. That's the girl. Since then +she's been on the stage--a vaudeville act--$1,000 a week they say. A +month ago she was again in trouble with the police--caught playing the +badger game. I don't know who the old chap is--a new 'sucker' I +imagine." + +There was a slight commotion at the main entrance as a fat, bald-headed, +red-faced man entered, followed by several women, all beautifully +gowned. Warner, who had caught sight of the party, whispered _sotto +voce_: + +"That's Sam Solomon, the famous criminal lawyer. He's just been +indicted by the Grand Jury. Only a miracle can save him from a long +prison term. He's had a box party at the theatre. He usually has a +string of women after him. That's where his money goes--women and wine. +The girls call him a good thing." + +Madison looked amused. + +"Where are the respectable folk?" he laughed. "Have all the people here +got a police record?" + +"Most all," was the laconic rejoinder. "Hello, Elfie--when did you come +in?" + +This last exclamation was addressed to a tall, attractive brunette, who +was just pushing past their table in a crowd. She was young and +vivacious looking, and her voluptuous figure was set off to advantage +in an expensive gown. Evidently she knew the lawyer well, for she +greeted him familiarly: + +"Hello, Glenn--I didn't see you." + +"Alone?" he asked quickly. + +"Yes--for a while," she answered airily. + +He made a place for her on the bench. + +"Sit down here and have something." + +"I don't mind if I do," she smiled amiably. + +Slipping past the two men into the seat she looked inquiringly at +Madison. The lawyer made introductions. + +"This is a friend of mine--John Madison--Miss Elfie St. Clair." +Jocularly he added: "Well known on the metropolitan stage." + +Madison smiled and nodded. The girl eyed him with interest. He was a +type of man not often seen in the gay resorts of Manhattan. Impulsively +she burst out: + +"Say, Glenn--your friend's a good looker, do you know it? Better take +care, or he'll cut you out with the girls." Turning to Madison, she +demanded: "From the West?" + +He nodded. + +"Yes--Denver." + +"Seeing New York, eh? Great fun, ain't it?" + +He shrugged his massive shoulders and made no reply, finding more +amusement in watching the crowd than in gratifying the curiosity of +this chatterbox. She turned to Warner. + +"Got a grouch, ain't he?" + +Warner laughed. + +"Oh--that's his manner. Don't mind him." Turning the conversation, he +demanded: "What's new?" + +The girl glanced all around the restaurant, as she answered: + +"Oh, the same old thing! In feather one week--broke the next. You know +how it is." + +"I thought you were playing." + +"So I was, but the show busted. It was a bully part, and I spent $150 +on dresses. All I got was two weeks' salary. When the dresses will be +paid for, the Lord only knows." + +Elfie St. Clair was a typical Tenderloin grafter. A woman absolutely +devoid of moral conscience, she styled herself an actress, yet was one +only by courtesy. By dint of pulling all kinds of wires she contrived +from time to time to get a part to play, but her stage activities were +really only a blind to conceal her true vocation. A cold-blooded +courtesan of the most brazen and unscrupulous type, she was, +notwithstanding, one of the most popular women in the upper Tenderloin. +She dressed with more taste than most women of her class, and her +naturally happy disposition, her robust spirits and spontaneous gaiety +had won her many friends. For all that she was an unscrupulous grafter, +the kind of woman who deliberately sets out to lure men to destruction. +She knew she was bad, yet found plenty of excuses for herself. She +often declared that she hated and despised men for the wrong they had +done her. Imposed upon, deceived, mistreated in her early girlhood by +the type of men who prey on women, at last she turned the tables, and +armed only with her dangerous charm and beauty, started out to make the +same slaughter of the other sex as she herself had suffered, together +with many of her sisters. + +While still in her teens she came to Broadway and entering the chorus +of one of the local theatres, soon became famous for her beauty. On +every hand, stage-door vultures were ready to give her anything that a +woman's heart can desire, from fine clothes to horses, carriages, +jewels, money, and what not. But at that time there was still some +decency left in her, the final sparks of sentiment and honest +attachment were not yet altogether extinguished. She fell in love with +an actor connected with the company, and during all the time that she +might have profited and become a rich woman by the attention of outside +admirers, she remained true to her love, until finally her fame as the +premier beauty of the city had begun to wane. The years told on her, +there were others coming up as young as she had been, and as good to +look at, and she soon found that, through her faithfulness to her +lover, the automobile of the millionaire, which once waited at the +stage door for her, was now there for some one else. Yet she was +contented and happy in her day dream, until one day the actor jilted +her, and left her alone. + +That was the end of her virtuous resolves. From then on, she steeled +her heart against all men. What she had lost of her beauty had been +replaced by a keen knowledge of human nature. She determined to give +herself up entirely to a life of gain, and she went about it coldly, +methodically. She knew just how much champagne could be drunk without +injuring the health; she knew just what physical exercise was necessary +to preserve what remained of her beauty. There was no trick of the +hairdresser, the modiste, the manicurist, or any one of the legion of +queer people who devote their talents to aiding the outward +fascinations of women, with which she was not familiar. She knew +exactly what perfumes to use, what stockings to wear, how she should +live, how far she should indulge in any dissipation, and all this she +determined to devote to profit. + +She had no self delusions. She knew that as an actress she had no +future; that the time of a woman's beauty is limited. Conscious that +she had already lost the youthful litheness of figure which had made +her so fascinating in the past, she laid aside every decent sentiment +and chose for her companion the man who had the biggest bank roll. His +age, his position in life, whether she liked or disliked him, did not +enter into her calculations at all. She figured out that she had been +made a fool of by men, and that there was only one revenge, the +accumulation of a fortune to make her independent of them once and for +all. She had, of course, certain likes and dislikes, and in a measure, +she indulged them. There were men whose company she preferred to that +of others, but in the case of these, their association was practically +sexless, and had come down to a point of mere good fellowship. + +"Seen Laura lately?" asked the lawyer suddenly, after Elfie had given +the waiter her order. + +"No--not for some days." + +Warner looked surprised. + +"I thought you and she were inseparable. You haven't quarreled, have +you?" + +The girl laughed. + +"Quarreled--no. Laura's too sweet a girl to quarrel with. Only you know +how it is. We're both so busy, with our eye on the main chance, that +there isn't much time for anything else. Besides, she's been playing +more or less ever since the season opened. I didn't see her in that +last piece, but they say she was fine. Of course, it was Brockton's +influence that got her the part. I expect to see her here to-night." + +"So she's still stuck on Willard Brockton, eh?" + +With a light laugh, she replied quickly: + +"Laura's not the kind of girl to be 'stuck' on anybody--at least I hope +she isn't. She used to be inclined to get sentimental at times--she +thought she was in love and all that sort of thing. I soon knocked that +nonsense out of her head. 'Laura' I said--'you've no time to fool. You +won't be fresh and pretty all your life. Make hay while the sun shines. +It's time to fall in love when you get old and faded and wrinkled. +Business before pleasure every time.' You know, Brockton has been very +good to her. She was lucky to find such a steady. She has money to +burn, a luxurious apartment, automobiles, influence with the managers. +What more could she want? She'd be a fool to give up all that." Raising +her glass to her lips, she looked with a smile towards Madison. + +"Here's how!" she said with mock courtesy. + +But the big Westerner was paying no attention to them. Silent, +engrossed, he was intent watching the gay crowd around him, studying +with deep interest the faces of these painted courtesans, who brazenly +came to this place to offer themselves. He wondered what their +childhood had been, to what disastrous home influences they had been +subjected to bring them to such degradation as this. Most of them were +coarse and vulgar-looking wantons, with rouged cheeks and pencilled +eyebrows, but others seemed to be modest girls, refined and well bred. +These were plainly in their novitiate. Surely, he pondered, such a +shameless calling must be revolting to them; the better instincts of +their womanhood must rebel at the very shame of it. He believed that +here and there, behind the rouge and forced hilarity, he could detect +signs of an aching heart, a woman secretly filled with anguish. It gave +him a sickening feeling of repulsion. Others saw only the outward +gaiety of the scene; but he saw still deeper. He realized its tragic +significance and it filled him with disgust and horror. + +Suddenly his attention was attracted to a young girl who had just +entered the restaurant. She was gowned magnificently enough even to be +conspicuous among that crowd of well-dressed women, and she wore a +large picture hat, crowned by expensive plumes. Close behind was her +escort, a middle-aged, stockily built man, with iron-gray hair, also +immaculately dressed. As the couple passed, the people at the tables +turned and whispered. When the newcomer drew nearer, Madison could see +that she was very young, and he was struck by her laughing, dimpled +beauty. She appeared little more than a child, and the manner in which +she was dressed--girlish fashion, with her wealth of blonde hair caught +back by a ribbon band--carried out the illusion completely. Her +complexion was so fair and fresh, her sensitive lips so red and full, +and delicately chiseled, such a look of childish innocence was in her +light blue eyes, that he wondered what she could be doing among such +questionable company. He concluded that the couple had wandered in by +mistake, not knowing the true character of the place. Turning to +Warner, he said in an undertone. + +"Look at that young girl--the blonde with white plumes--coming this way +escorted by the man with the smooth face and gray hair! Surely she is +not an habitue of this joint!" + +The lawyer laughed as he quickly drew Elfie's attention to the new +arrivals. + +"Really, old chap--you're so green you're funny! Don't you know who she +is? Why--that's Laura Murdock--the cleverest of them all!" + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +If Laura Murdock was not quite so young as she looked, she was far from +appearing her real age, which was twenty-five. A casual observer at +most, would have accorded her twenty. In her case Nature had been +unusually kind. Her skin was soft as a new-born infant's, her +complexion fresh as the unplucked rose, her expression innocent and +unsophisticated. A priest unhesitatingly would have given her +absolution without confession. Her baby face, her childish prettiness +and air of unaffected ingenuousness, her good taste in dress, her +natural refinement, and cleverness in keeping men guessing had been, +indeed, the chief keystones of her success. And, most remarkable of +all, perhaps, was that she had been able to retain this prettiness and +girlishness after what she had gone through, for, at the time this +narrative opens, Laura Murdock had already lived a career which would +have made a wreck of most women. + +Born in Melbourne, of English parents, she came at an early age from +Australia to San Francisco. Her father was connected in a business +capacity with one of the local theatrical companies, and the young girl +naturally drifted to the stage. She had only a mediocre histrionic +talent, but what was perhaps more important, she had uncommon good +looks, and she soon found that beauty was not only a valuable asset, +but a sure lever to success. The critics praised her, not because she +acted well, but because she dressed exquisitely, and pleased the eye. +Managers and authors flattered her. Soon she found, to her amazement, +that she was the success of the hour. Stage Johnnies raved about her; +sent her flowers and invited her to supper; women envied her, and said +spiteful things. Portraits of her in various attitudes appeared in the +newspapers and magazines. In a single night she was carried high on the +top wave of sensational popularity. + +The outcome was only logical. Even a virtuous woman could not stand the +strain, and Laura was not virtuous. Of neurotic temperament, inherently +weak, if not actually vicious in character, with the spirit of the +courtesan strong within her from an early age, fond of luxury and +personal adornment she could not legitimately afford, it was not +surprising that she listened to the flatterers and went to the devil +quicker than any woman before her in the whole history of gallantry. At +the end of her first season, her reputation was completely in tatters. +Accepting the situation philosophically, she did not pretend to be +better than she was, but she was clever enough not to cheapen herself +by entangling herself too promiscuously. She had lovers by the score, +yet none could boast of having really won her heart. A woman of +superficial emotions, she was entirely without depth, yet so long as it +suited her purpose, she was able to conceal this shallowness and +profess for the admirer of the moment the greatest affection and +devotion. This is an art and she was an adept at it. Sensually she +quickly attracted men, and it was not long before she became a prime +favorite in the select circles that made such resorts as "The Yellow +Poodle" and "Moreland's" famous, yet in her dissipations she was always +careful not in any way to indulge in excesses which would jeopardize +her physical attractiveness, or for one moment diminish her keen sense +of worldly calculation. + +One day, obeying a foolish impulse, she married. The venture was, of +course, a failure. Her selfish vacillating nature was such that she +could not remain true to the poor fool who had given her his name. To +provide the luxuries she incessantly demanded, he embezzled the funds +of the bank where he was employed, and when exposure came, and he was +confronted with a jail sentence, she was horrified to see him kill +himself in front of her. There was a momentary spasm of grief, a tidal +wave of remorse, followed in a few brief weeks by the peculiar +recuperation of spirits, beauty and attractiveness that so marks this +type of woman. Gradually she became hardened and indifferent. She began +to view life as a hunting field, in which the trophy went to the +hardest rider. Deceived herself by men, she finally arrived at that +stage of life known in theatrical circles as "wised up." + +Coming to New York, she attracted the attention of a prominent +theatrical manager, and was given a part, in which she happened to make +a hit. This was enough to immediately establish her reputation on the +metropolitan stage. The fact that before reaching the age of womanhood, +she had had more escapades than most women have in their entire lives, +was not generally known in Manhattan, nor was there a mark upon her +face or a single coarse mannerism to betray it. She was soft voiced, +very pretty, very girlish, yet she was no fool. Her success did not +turn her head or blind her to her shortcomings as an actress. She +realized that in order to maintain her position she must have some +influence outside of her own ability, so she laid plans to entangle in +her net a hard-headed, blunt and supposedly soubrette-proof theatre +manager. He fell victim to her charms, and in his cold, stolid way, +gave her what love there was in him. Still not satisfied, she played +two ends against the middle, and finding a young man of wealth and +position, who could give her in his youth an exuberance of joy utterly +apart from the character of the theatrical manager, she allowed him to +shower her with presents. When his money was gone, she cast him aside +and demurely resumed her relations with the unsuspecting theatre +manager. The jilted lover became crazed, and one night at a restaurant, +attempted to murder them both. + +From that time on, her career was a succession of brilliant coups in +gaining the confidence and love, not to say the money, of men of all +ages, and all walks of life. Her powers of fascination were as potent +as her professions of reform were insincere. She never made an honest +effort to be an honest woman, she never tried to do the square thing. +Yet, like other women of her type, she found all sorts of excuses for +her wrongdoing. She pretended that she was persecuted, a victim of +circumstances, and was ever ready to explain away the viciousness of +character, which was really responsible for her troubles. + +In spite of her success on the stage, she was an indifferent actress. +Her lack of true feeling, her abuse of the dramatic temperament in her +private affairs, had been such as to make it impossible for her +sincerely to impress audiences with genuine emotional power, and +therefore, despite the influences which she always had at hand, she +remained a mediocre artist. + +Her meeting with Willard Brockton was, from her point of view, the best +possible thing that could have happened. Brockton was a New York stock +broker, and like many men of his tastes and means, was a good deal of a +sensualist. Of morals he frankly confessed he had none, yet he was an +honest sensualist for he played the game fair. He never forgot that he +was a gentleman. He was perfectly candid about his _amours_ and never +expected more from a woman than he could give to her. He was honest in +this, that he detested any man who sought to take advantage of a pure +woman. He abhorred any man who deceived a woman. The same in love as in +business, he believed that there was only one way to go through life, +and that was to be straight with those with whom one deals. A master +hand in stock manipulation and other questionable practices of Wall +Street, he realized that he had to pit his cunning against the craft +of others. He was not at all in sympathy with present-day business +methods, but he did not see any particular reason why he should +constitute himself a reformer. Although still in the prime of life, he +cared nothing for society and held aloof from it. If he went to the +trouble to keep in touch at all with people of his own set, it was +simply for business reasons. What he seemed to delight in most was the +life of Bohemia, with its easy _camaraderie_, its lax moral code, its +contempt for the conventions. He enjoyed the company of women of facile +virtue, the gay little supper parties after the theatre, and the glass +that inebriates and cheers, in a word, he enjoyed going the pace that +kills. He was a man of many _liasons_, but none were as serious or had +lasted so long as his present pact with Laura Murdock. No woman before +had been clever enough to hold him. He appeared very fond of her, and +completely under her influence. His friends shook their heads, looked +wise, and took and gave odds that he would be so foolish as to marry +her. + +The couple took seats at a table, the cynosure of all eyes. Every head +turned in their direction, conversations were temporarily suspended and +there was much whispering and craning of necks, to get a glimpse of the +young woman whose reputation, or lack of it, was already so notorious. +Far from being embarrassed at this display of public interest, Laura +seemed to enjoy the attention she excited. Languidly sinking into her +seat, she said to her escort with a smile: + +"Don't they stare? You'd think they had never seen a woman before." + +Brockton laughed as he lit a fresh cigar. + +"How do you know they're staring at you? I'm not such a bad looker +myself." + +Laura ran over the menu to see what there was to tempt her appetite. + +"Bring me some lobster," she said to the waiter. + +"And a bottle of wine--Moet and Chandon white seal," broke in Brockton, +"_frappe_--you understand, and make it a rush order. I have to get away +in a few minutes." + +Laura pursed her delicately chiseled lips together in a pout. She liked +to do that on every possible occasion, because, having practiced it at +home before the mirror, she thought it looked cunning. + +"You're surely going to give yourself time to eat a bite, aren't you?" +she cried in affected dismay. + +The broker looked at his watch. + +"I must be in Boston early to-morrow morning. The express leaves the +Grand Central at 12:15. I've just time to drink a glass of wine and +sprint for the train. That's why I kept the taxi waiting outside. I +hate to go. I assure you I'd much rather sit here with you. But go I +must." + +As far as his _amours_ were concerned, women of the Laura Murdock and +Elfie St. Clair type appealed strongly to the broker. Not only did he +enjoy their bohemianism and careless good-fellowship, but he entered +fully into the spirit of their way of living. He professed to +understand them and in a measure to sympathize with them. Entirely +without humbug or cant, he recognized that they had their own place in +the social game. They were outcasts, if you will, but interesting and +amusing outcasts. He rather liked the looseness of living which does +not quite reach the disreputable. Behind all this, however, was a high +sense of honor. He detested and despised the average stage-door Johnny, +and he loathed the type of man who seeks to take young girls out of +theatrical companies for their ruin. Otherwise he had no objection to +his women friends being as wise as himself. When they entered into an +agreement with him there was no deception. In the first place, he +wanted to like them; in the second place he wanted them to like him. +His iron-gray hair, contrasting with their youth, not only made him +look like their father, but his manner towards them was distinctly +paternal. He insisted also on their financial arrangements, being kept +on a strictly business basis. The amount of the living expenses was +fixed at a definite figure and he expected them to limit themselves to +it. He made them distinctly understand that he reserved the right at +any time to withdraw his support, or transfer it to some other +_inamorata_, and he gave them the same privilege. While he consulted +only his own selfish pleasures, Brockton was not an uncharitable man. +He was always ready to help anyone who was unfortunate, and at heart he +sometimes felt sorry for these women who had to barter their self +respect to indulge their love of luxury. He hoped that some of them +would one day meet the right man and settle down to respectable married +life, but he insisted that such an arrangement could be possible only +by the honest admission on the woman's part of what she had been and +the thorough and complete understanding of her past by the man +involved. He was gruff and blunt in manner, yet well liked by his +intimates. They thought him a brute, almost a savage, but almost every +one agreed with Laura that he was "a pretty decent savage." She and the +broker had been pals for two years, and she had never been happier in +her life. He was most generous with his money and his close relations +with several prominent theatrical managers made it possible for him to +secure for her desirable engagements. There was no misunderstanding +between them. He knew exactly what she was and what she had been. He +any way. He always told her that whenever she felt it inconsistent with +her happiness to continue with him, it was her privilege to quit, and +he himself reserved the same right. As far as such an irregular marital +relation as this could be said to be desirable, it was an ideal +arrangement. + +"How long will you be gone?" asked Laura, as she toyed with a lobster +claw and glanced around the cafe, to see who was there. + +"I've no idea," answered Brockton. "I may return day after to-morrow or +I may be detained there a week or longer. It's a big job, you know--in +connection with floating a big issue of railroad bonds. There's a +barrel of money in it. I may not get back before you go to Denver." + +The girl looked up at him quickly, and laying down her knife and fork, +leaned across the table. Resting her dimpled chin on her ungloved and +tapering hands, which were covered with blazing stones, she said with +more genuine feeling than she had yet shown: + +"Oh, Will--it was awfully good of you to get me that engagement and let +me go. A number of girls I know were after it--some with far more +experience than I've had. They're all crazy to play stock at this time +of year. Of course, I don't need the money as much as they do, but I'm +fond of acting and it's a bully way to spend some of the summer. +Besides, I think the air out there--the high altitude--will do me lots +of good." + +"That's all very well," rejoined the broker with a grimace of mock +despair, "but what am I going to do all alone in this dusty, thirsty +town, while you're playing Camille, and what not under the shady trees +at Denver? I'm an ass to stand for it." + +She laid a consoling hand on his arm. + +"No, you're, not. You're a darling boy. You know I had my heart set on +getting that stock engagement, and you went to all kinds of trouble to +make the manager let me have it. Really, Will--I can't say how grateful +I am! I won't be so long away--only six short Weeks--and if you like +you can come to Denver and bring me East again. It'll be awfully jolly +traveling home together, won't it?" + +Brockton looked at her and smiled indulgently. He was only joking, just +to see how she would take it. Of course he would let her go. He would +be a selfish brute if he played the tyrant and consulted only his own +convenience. + +"All right, kid," he said kindly. "Go and enjoy yourself. Never mind +about me--I'll jog along somehow. I'll miss you, though. I don't mind +telling you that. When you're ready to come home, just telegraph and +I'll take the next train for Denver. If you need any money, you know +where to write me. Meantime, put this in your inside pocket." + +He pressed his strong fingers down on her open palm, and closed her +hand. Opening it, she found five new crisp one hundred dollar notes. A +crimson glow of pleasure spread over her face and neck. For a moment +she was unable to stammer her thanks. + +"Oh, Will--you are so good!" + +"That's nothing," he laughed lightly, "have a good time with it. Buy +what things you need. You understand--that is only a little extra pin +money. Your regular weekly cheque will be sent to you at Denver." + +All she could say was to repeat: + +"Oh--Will--you are so good!" + +He lifted his glass and looked whimsically at her through the dancing +bubbles of the foaming champagne. In a low voice he said: + +"Here's to my little girl! May she tread the stage of Denver with the +grace and charm of an Ellen Terry and return to New York covered with +new laurels!" + +Calling for the bill, and tossing a ten dollar note to the waiter, he +rose hastily: + +"I hate to go and leave you here alone, but I must catch that train." + +"Oh, don't mind me," she replied, smiling up at him. "I'll stay a few +minutes yet." Nodding towards the left, she added: "I see Elfie over +there. I'll sit with her. Don't worry about me. I'll go home in a +taxi." + +He took her hand. He would have liked to kiss her, but like most men, +he hated to make public demonstration of his feelings. + +"Good-bye, little one," he said fondly. "Be a good girl. Write me +directly you get to Denver. Be sure to send me all the press +notices----" Facetiously he added: "--all the bad ones mind. I'm not +interested in the others. And when you're ready to come home, just +telegraph, and I'll come for you. Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye, Will." + +The next moment he was gone. + +For some time after his, departure she sat quietly at the table, toying +idly with the rich food in front of her. Absorbed in her own thoughts +she paid no attention to what was transpiring around. She was +singularly depressed that evening, she knew not why. It was very +foolish, for she had every reason to feel elated. Things certainly +continued to go her way. After all the storm and stress of her past +life, she was at last settled and contented. She had plenty of money, a +good friend, influence with the theatre managers, and now she had +secured the very engagement she had been longing for. What could any +reasonable woman possibly desire more? Yet for all that she sometimes +felt there was something missing in her life. She was too intelligent +not to know the degradation of the kind of existence she was leading, +and sometimes the realization of it made her utterly miserable. If it +were not for the champagne and the hourly excitement which helped her +to forget, she sometimes felt she would take her life. In her heart she +knew that she did not love Will Brockton, and she believed him too +clever a man to imagine for a moment that she had any real affection +for him. They were pals, that was all. He liked her very much--she was +sure of that. But it was not love. How could a woman of her character +expect to inspire decent love in any man? Theirs was a careless, +unconventional tie, which could be broken to-morrow. A quarrel, and she +would see him no more. She shivered. The mere thought of such a +contingency was decidedly unpleasant. It's so easy, she mused, to +become accustomed to automobiles, luxurious apartments, fine gowns and +the rest, but so hard--oh, so hard!--to learn how to do without them. + +Emptying her glass, she rose from her seat and strolled toward where +Elfie St. Clair was still sitting with the two men. + +"Hello, Laura!" cried her friend as she came up. "We saw you from the +distance. Come and sit down. These gentlemen are friends of mine--Mr. +Warner--Mr. Madison--Miss Murdock." + +The men bowed, while Elfie made room for the newcomer. + +"Won't you take something?" asked Warner politely. + +"No, thank you--I've just had a bite." + +"Why did Mr. Brockton run away?" demanded Elfie, unable to restrain her +feminine curiosity. His sudden departure was unusual enough to suggest +a lover's quarrel. + +"He had to catch a train--important business in Boston," replied Laura +carelessly. Impulsively she burst out: "Oh, Elfie--what do you think? I +got that stock engagement after all. I'm perfectly daffy about it. I +play leads in 'Camille,' 'Mrs. Dane's Defense,' and such plays as +that." + +"Where is it?" demanded Elfie. + +"In Denver. Don't you remember? I told you I was after it?" + +"Denver? Why that's where Mr. Madison comes from." + +Both girls turned and looked at the big Westerner. Laura regarded him +with more attention. If this man was from Denver, he might be useful to +her. She was not the kind to neglect anything that was likely to +promote her interests. Looking him well over, she noted his big, +muscular frame, his steel-gray eyes, and determined, prognathous jaw. +It was a type of manhood that was new to her. He was decidedly worth +cultivating. + +"You live in Denver?" she said, trying on him the effect of her dimpled +smile, which was irresistible to most men. + +He nodded carelessly. + +"Yes--I'm with one of the newspapers there." + +"Oh!" + +She was glad now that she had come over to Elfie's table. Decidedly +this man would be very useful. It is always a good thing to know +journalists. It suggested favorable paragraphs and good notices in the +papers. She remembered what a philosophical chorus girl once told her: +"Rather a good press agent than great talent." Forthwith Laura exerted +herself to be very amiable. She laughed and chatted and when Madison, +in his turn, ordered a bottle of wine, she graciously allowed him to +drink to her success. + +"But you must help me!" she said coquettishly. + +"Sure!" he answered gayly, half in jest. + +She inquired about Denver, the life there, the theatres, and their +audiences. She asked his advice as to the best hotel for her to stop +at, questioned him about his own life and work, and sought to flatter +him by appearing to take interest in everything he said. + +The small hours of the morning still found them there. When at last +they parted, she said in that arch, captivating way, which none better +than she knew how to employ: + +"We will be good friends, won't we?" + +"You bet we will!" was his laconic, careless rejoinder. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + Denver, Colorado, June 15, 19--. + + Dear Will: + + I've made good all right. The management is delighted and already + wants me to sign for next year. My notices are wonderful. They say + I'm great. I enclose some of the newspaper dope. It's been awful + fun. You should have seen me as the tuberculous Camille, expiring + to slow music in Armand's arms. It was a scream. I had to bite the + property bedclothes to keep from exploding outright. But the scene + went fine. People sobbed all over the house. + + Denver's a peach of a place. Fancy--I found a big "Welcome" arch + up--no doubt in honor of my arrival--and it's been up ever since. + Seriously, I'm a big social success--invited everywhere--tea + parties, church gatherings and other choice functions. Can you + imagine yours truly, demure and penitent, taking part in bazaars, + solemnly presided over by elderly spinsters in spectacles? You ask + why I don't write more regularly. My dear boy--if you only knew how + busy I am, what with rehearsals, social duties and so forth! What + nonsense to imagine for a moment that it was because my time was + taken up by some other man. You must think I'm foolish. No, no, + dear--not quite so dippy as that. No other charmer for mine while + my Will is good to me. Write soon to + + Your own + + LAURA. + + P.S.--How's dear old Broadway these days? If you see Elfie, tell + her to write. + +Colorado, land of enchantment, possesses at least one distinct +advantage over other states of the Union. Apart from the rugged +grandeur of its scenery, its lofty, awe-inspiring peaks and stupendous +canons, the climate is perhaps without its equal in the world. Denver, +particularly, is richly favored in this respect. Situated near the +foothills of the Rockies, on a high, broad plateau, sheltered by the +majestic mountains from the fierce storms and blizzards that sweep the +plains, the winters are delightfully mild and salubrious. Owing to the +great altitude the atmosphere is pure and dry and in the hot months the +breezes which blow almost continuously from the snow-capped heights of +Pike's Peak, make the air deliciously cool, with a temperature rarely +rising above the eighties. For this reason Denver is almost as popular +a summer resort with those who live in the Middle West, as Colorado +Springs, Manitou, and other fashionable places. + +Nor does this picturesque mountain capital with its 200,000 population, +lack in up-to-date comforts and amusements. It has beautiful homes, +fine hotels, good theatres. Its people are cultured and discriminating. +They hear the best music and see the latest comedies. In the winter, +Paderewski plays for them; Sembrich sings for them; Mrs. Fiske and +Maude Adams act for them. In the summer they applaud at an open air +theatre pleasantly set among the shady trees, the latest Broadway +successes performed by a stock company especially engaged in New York. +It was as leading lady of this organization that Laura Murdock made her +debut in Denver. + +As already intimated, Mr. Brockton's protegee was not a good actress; +she was not even a competent actress. Deficient in mentality, lacking +any real culture, she failed utterly to rise to the opportunity offered +by the roles with which she was entrusted. Fortunately for her, summer +audiences are not highly critical. Her youth and beauty pleased, and +the local reviewers, susceptible like ordinary mortals to the charms of +a pretty woman, were unusually indulgent. Some of them paid doubtful +compliments, but what they said of her acting sounded good to Laura, +who eagerly cut out the notices and mailed them to Brockton. + +So far her summer season had been a decided success. She liked Denver +and Denver liked her. This she considered most fortunate, for it suited +her purpose to make such a hit of this engagement that the echo of it +would reach as far East as Broadway. It would give her better standing +with the theatre managers in New York and put a quietus for good on +comment in unfriendly quarters. A clever tactician with an eye always +open to the main chance, she exerted herself to the utmost to make +friends and neglected no opportunity to advance her interests. She +attended church regularly and made liberal donations to the local +charities. When entertainments were organized on behalf of the poor, +she volunteered her services, which were gratefully accepted. Thus her +local popularity grew and was firmly and quickly established. + +The papers spoke eulogistically of her goodness of heart, interviewed +her on every possible pretext and published portraits of her by the +score. Society soon followed suit. The best people of the town took her +up and the women gushed over her. She was such a young little thing, +they said, so ingenuous and interesting, so refined, so different from +most actresses. Sorry that she should be all alone in a strange place, +exposed to the temptations of a big city, they took her under their +wing, and invited her to their homes. One lady, particularly, was most +cordial in her invitation. Her name was Mrs. Williams, and Laura met +her at a church picnic. The wife of a millionaire cattle king, she +owned a handsome house in Denver and a beautiful country home near +Colorado Springs. Mrs. Williams took a great fancy to the demure young +actress and declined to say good-bye in Denver until Laura had promised +to go and spend a week with her at her country ranch. + +"It's a lovely spot, dear," she said. "I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. +My house is perched up on the side of Ute Pass, and overlooks the whole +Colorado Canon, two thousand feet below. It is a wonderful spectacle. +You must come. I won't take a refusal." + +Laura promised, willing enough. She would be glad of the rest after her +weeks of hard work. + +Of John Madison she had seen a great deal. Following her old tactics, +she had started out to fascinate the tall newspaper man, expecting to +find him an easy victim. For once, however, she found that she had met +her match. Directly she arrived in Denver she sent him her card, and he +called at the hotel, his manner courteous, but distinctly cold. He had +not forgotten, however, the promise made in New York, and he offered to +give her such help as he could. Aware of his close connection with the +local newspapers, she was glad to accept his offer to act as her press +representative. She even offered to pay him, but he flatly declined, +and the covert smile that accompanied the refusal made her angry. + +"Why do you refuse?" she demanded. "Are you so rich?" + +"I'm dead broke," he answered dryly. "But you see, I'm a queer +fellow--there are certain things I can't do--one of them is to take +money from a woman." + +On another occasion, when she went a little out of her way to show him +attention he said, with brutal candor: + +"Don't waste your time on me. I'm only a poor devil of a newspaper man. +There are plenty of fatter fowl to pluck. Denver's full of softheads +with money to burn." + +She hated him for that speech. His careless words and disdainful +attitude cut her sensitive nature to the quick. Evidently he despised +her. + +Yet for all that, he did not neglect her interests. For two weeks after +her arrival and previous to her debut, she was the most written about +person in town. The papers were full of her. It was invaluable +advertising and she tried to show her appreciation in other ways, +inviting him to dinner, and sending him little presents. But still he +held aloof, letting her understand plainly that he knew her record and +was not to be hoodwinked or inveigled. The truth was, that women of her +class did not interest him. Indeed, they filled him with aversion, yet +he pitied rather than condemned them. "One never knows," he used to say +when the question came up with his men friends, "what kind of a life +they were up against, or to what temptations they were subjected. The +most virtuous woman alive could not swear exactly what she would do if +confronted with certain conditions." This was a pet theory of his, and +it made him more charitable than others. + +Meantime, he was studying Laura at close range. He found that she was +weak rather than really vicious. There was much of the spoiled child in +her make-up. Her bringing up had been bad. In different environments +she might have been entirely different. There was much in her that +attracted him. He liked her merry disposition, her girlish +ingenuousness. Such a naive nature, he argued, could not be wholly +depraved. He frankly enjoyed her society, and it was not long before he +let down the barriers of his reserve. Laura was quick to notice the +change, and she would have belied her sex if it had not given her +pleasure. Madison interested her; he was refreshingly different from +all the men she had ever met. She wondered what his life was. At every +opportunity she encouraged him to speak of himself. + +"Do you like this newspaper work?" she demanded, one day. + +He shook his head. + +"No; there is nothing in it," he answered. "When a big story breaks +loose--a strike or a murder, or a bank robbery--one likes the +excitement, but when things quiet down the dull routine palls on you. I +won't stay in it." + +"Then what will you do?" + +"Hike it up to the Northwest--and dig for gold," he replied. +Confidentially he went on: "I have the chance of a quarter interest in +a mine up there. If I strike luck, I'll be richer than Croesus." + +"And then?" she smiled. + +"Then I'll come back and marry you!" he said laughingly. + +It was said lightly, but like many words uttered in jest, it sounded as +if there might be some truth back of it. Both grew silent and the +subject was quickly changed. + +While mortified at her discomfiture, Laura thought more of the big +fellow for his attitude of utter indifference. She had been so pampered +and courted all her life that it was a novelty to find that she made +absolutely no impression on this one man. Her respect for him grew in +consequence. Gradually, he, too, seemed to take more pleasure in her +society. He called more frequently and became more friendly. He was +still on his guard, as if he still distrusted her--or perhaps +himself--but he did not avoid her any longer. + +The theatre naturally took up most of her time. When not acting, she +was rehearsing new roles. It was interesting work, and she felt it was +valuable experience. Madison declared she had improved wonderfully, +and, in his enthusiasm, wrote eulogistic articles about her in the +papers that were copied far and wide. Indeed, she could thank him for +all the success she had had. He was at the theatre every night, +watching her from the front, taking the liveliest interest in her +success, and promoting it in every possible way. A critic who ventured +to find fault he threatened to horsewhip; he put her portrait in the +papers and printed interesting stories concerning her that had only his +imagination for foundation. He transacted business for her with the +local manager, and acted in her behalf in all the necessary +negotiations with the Church Bazaar committees. + +Before very long they were the best of friends. Laura found him not +only useful, but a delightful companion. What time could be spent from +rehearsals, she spent with him. In the familiar, intimate, theatrical +style, they already called each other by their first names. They went +out horseback riding together, and he took her for long automobile +trips, showing her many of the wonderful places with which Colorado +abounds. They played golf at Broadmoor, and fished black-spotted trout +in South Platte river. They drank health-giving waters at Great Spirit +Springs, and viewed the reconstructed ruins of the prehistoric +cliff-dwellers at Manitou. They traveled on the cog railroad to the +dizzy summit of Pike's Peak, and visited the busy gold-mining camp at +Cripple Creek. Here Madison was on familiar ground. He showed his +companion the manner in which man wrests the coveted treasure from +Nature, the whole process of mining, the powerful electric drills, the +ponderous machinery, the ore deposits in the hard granite. He pointed +out the miners' cabins on the mountainsides, replicas of the rough log +huts in Alaska in which he, himself, had lived. It was all very +interesting and so novel that for the first time in her life Laura felt +the delightful sensation of seeing something new. Time had no longer +any significance to her. The days and weeks sped by so pleasantly that +she gave no thought to returning East. Sometimes she even forgot to +write her weekly letter to Mr. Brockton. She marveled herself that she +could be so happy and contented far away from the alluring glitter of +the Great White Way. + +Then all at once the truth dawned upon her, and the revelation came +with the suddenness and force of an unexpected blow. She was in love +with this man. All these weeks, unknown to herself, quite +unconsciously, she had been slowly falling desperately, madly, honestly +and decently in love. The man she left behind in New York, the man to +whom she owed everything, did not exist any more. John Madison was the +man she loved. + +At first she tried to laugh it off as being too absurd. She, Laura +Murdock, with her ripe experience of the world and many adventures with +men--to fall in love like a silly, sentimental schoolgirl! It was too +ridiculous. How the Rialto would laugh if they knew. Of course, they +never would know, for there was nothing in it. The Westerner probably +did not care two straws for her. He liked her, of course, or he would +not bother to waste his time with her, but, no doubt, he thought of her +only as a friend, a lively companion who kept him amused. No doubt, +too, he knew her record and secretly despised her. Even if he did not +care for her and told her so--even if he were willing to marry her, +what then? She would be a fool to listen to him. What kind of a life +could he, a penniless scribbler, give her compared with the comforts +and gifts which Willard Brockton was able to shower upon her? + +Above all else, Laura had sought to be practical in life. She often +declared that it was one of the secrets of her success. It was late in +the day, therefore, to make a mistake of which only an unsophisticated +beginner could be guilty. Yet, much as she tried to laugh it off and +reassure herself, the matter worried her. When, mentally, she compared +the two men, the advantage invariably remained with the younger. John +was nearer her own age, they had in common many tastes and interests +which the broker cared nothing about, and she felt more exuberant, more +youthful, in the newspaper man's society. Brockton, she could not help +remembering, was more than double her age. It would be unnatural if she +had not found the younger man more congenial. In her heart she felt +that Brockton, with all his money, had no real hold upon her, and that +if John really did care for her and asked her to marry him, she would +be face to face with the hardest question for which she had ever had to +find an answer. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Early one morning John came to the hotel to take Laura for a +prearranged excursion. Temporarily out of the bill at the theatre, and +a long holiday being hers to enjoy, she had suggested a little trip to +Manitou to see the far-famed Garden of the Gods, a place of scenic +marvels, where, by a strange freak of Nature, great rocks and boulders, +fantastic in shape and coloring, are thrown together in all kinds of +curious formations. The plan was to go by train as far as Colorado +Springs, and then finish the journey by automobile. + +They started gleefully, by rail, and were soon spinning across the +verdant plains in the direction of Pike's Peak, the snow-capped peak of +which rose majestically in the distance. The day was beautiful, and +both being in good spirits, they enjoyed to the full the fresh, +invigorating air. + +On reaching Colorado Springs, they partook of an appetizing luncheon, +served merrily under the trees. She laughed and chattered and discussed +plans for the future, while John, strangely silent, just looked at her, +quietly enjoying her spontaneous gayety, surprised himself at the keen +interest he was taking in her society. And the more he watched her +laughing eyes and dimpled smiles, the more he realized the loneliness, +the solitude of his own empty, aimless life. The summer would soon be +at an end. The past few weeks had sped by all too quickly for him, and +in the interval this girl, with her vivacious manner and laughing eyes, +had strangely grown upon him. What would he do when she was gone? When +the meal was finished, he went in search of a machine. An expert +chauffeur himself, they could manage the car without aid, and soon they +were running smoothly and rapidly along the mountain roads. + +Laura chatted continuously while John kept a watchful eye in front. As +they flew along under the murmuring pines, he pointed out the various +places of interest. The machine was running fast, with the going none +too smooth, when, all at once, while making a sharp turn, the wheels +skidded, and they were almost ditched. Laura gave a little scream, and, +instinctively, grasped her companion's arm. He laughed to reassure her, +and, giving the wheel a vigorous twist, the car was again under control +and once more on its way. + +Laura had always felt nervous in automobiles, even in New York, where +she was accustomed to go at a much slower pace. But to-day, in spite of +the mishap they had just escaped, she had no fear. She knew that John +was a splendid driver, watchful, resourceful, careful. With his immense +strength and skill, the machine seemed but a toy in his hands. + +She watched him furtively, admiring him. This was no city roue, his +constitution undermined by dissipation. He was good to look at, +wholesome, frank, virile. Perhaps if she had met him earlier, her life +might have been very different. She might have been a respectable +woman. She could have loved such a man as this. She did love him--she +was sure of it now. There was no mistaking the feeling he inspired in +her. Once, he chanced to glance down, and caught her looking intently +at him. + +"What's the matter?" he smiled. + +"Nothing," she answered gravely. + +Soon they reached their destination. The automobile came to a stop, +and, getting down, she took his arm, and together they approached the +imposing gateway of the far-famed Garden of the Gods. When she passed +through the red perpendicular portals of the place, Laura was filled +with awe. It was the first time she had beheld this unique and +beautiful demonstration of Nature, and she could not repress her +enthusiasm. In the wildest flights of her imagination, she had never +pictured such a scene as the one now presented to her eyes. It was as +if she had been suddenly transported to fairyland, and was treading +among the colossal habitations of giants. On all sides were stupendous +masses of rock, huge boulders of all colors--white, yellow and +red--most fantastically shaped. There were lofty towers, strange, +wind-wrought obelisks, pointed pinnacles, bizarre in shape as one sees +in nightmares. It reminded her of the settings of Wagner's music dramas +and the weird pictures of Gustave Dore. She admired the Graces, lofty +fragments of strata shaped like obelisks. Then there was the Cradle, a +huge rock so nicely balanced that it seemed as if a child's touch could +send it crashing from its pedestal, yet probably it had stood there +since creation day. Other rocks, strangely colored, were standing on +end in all kinds of extravagant postures. Some were shaped like fierce +animals; others resembled faces, houses, men. It seemed like a vision +of another world, a glimpse of some vanished people, a race of titanic +beings who had suddenly been petrified into stone. The place was +deserted. There was no one there but themselves. A sepulchral silence +hung heavy over everything. It was as mournful and awe-inspiring as a +city of the dead. + +By the time they had seen all the wonders of the garden the sun was low +on the horizon. A glorious crimson glow shot up out of the west, and, +flooding the heavens, tinged each surrounding object with rich color. +Tired after the day's adventures, they sat on a bench at the base of a +tall stone pillar, which, in the growing dark, seemed like a colossal +sentinel standing guard in a camp of giants. Madison was very silent. +Deep in his own thoughts, he paid little attention to his companion. + +"How quiet it is!" murmured Laura, almost to herself, as she contrasted +the heavy stillness of the place with the roar and excitement of +Broadway. + +"How lonely!" added Madison. Bitterly he exclaimed: "It reminds me of +my own life." + +Quickly she looked up at him. It was unusual for him to speak of +himself. + +"Are you lonely?" she demanded. + +He nodded. + +"Often." + +She looked puzzled, not understanding. + +"Why are you lonely? You are young and strong and clever. The world is +before you----" + +He remained silent for a moment, without replying. In the uncertain +light of the late afternoon, she could see that his eyes were fixed +steadily on her. In them was a look that every woman understands, be +she pure or impure. Then slowly, his deep, bass voice beautifully +modulated, he said gravely: + +"I am lonely because I am alone. All these years, ever since I was a +boy, I have spent my life alone. I have had many so-called +friends--yes; but even friends do not satisfy the longing to have some +one still nearer and dearer, some one to whom you can turn in trouble, +some one who will be always there to share in your joys. Work--yes, I +can work, but why should I strive and toil? For myself? Bah--I'm sick +of it all. To live alone, as I do, is not worth the effort it costs. +Sometimes I think I'd just as soon blow out my brains as not. What's +the use of straining every nerve and sweating blood to make a success +in life if there's no one to share success with when it comes?" + +She understood. A thrill ran through her entire being. Her heart +throbbed violently and her lips trembled as she said gently: + +"Why don't you marry? Any girl would consider herself fortunate if she +could go through life with such a man as you." + +Suddenly she winced. His big, muscular hand had caught hers and was +holding it firmly in an steel-like grip. Bending over so close that she +felt his warm breath on her cheek, he said hoarsely: + +"Do you mean that? Would you give up all that you have now--to marry +me?" + +Something rose up in her throat and choked her. Her heart beat +furiously as though it would burst. What she had foreseen and dreaded +was upon her. + +"I?" she gasped in unaffected surprise. + +"Yes, you," he said fiercely. "You must have seen what has been in my +heart for days--that I care for you. The first moment I set eyes on you +I knew that you were just the kind of girl I wanted for a wife. At +first I was afraid of you. I had heard things about you--gossip and all +that. You came here. We were thrown together. I still mistrusted you, +but I watched you, and saw you weren't as bad as I'd been led to +believe. I guess people have lied about you. What do I care what they +say? You're good enough for me. I soon found out that I loved you. I'm +a man of very few words. I'm not an adept at pretty speeches. Tell +me--will you marry me?" + +She made no reply. It was now almost dark, and he could not see her +face plainly. Hoarsely he repeated: + +"Did you hear me? I want you to marry me." + +She shook her head. + +"It's impossible," she murmured. "It's impossible." + +"You don't care for me--I've made a fool of myself. Is that it?" + +She laid her gloved hand gently on his hand. + +"I do care for you." + +"Then why is it impossible?" he demanded fiercely. He put his arm +around her and tried to draw her to him. + +Quietly, but firmly, she disengaged herself, and it was with some show +of dignity that she replied: + +"Because I care for you--just because of that." + +"You are not free?" he demanded. + +She hesitated. + +"It is not that--there is another reason." + +"What is it?" + +At first she was tempted to deceive him and keep up for his benefit her +masterful assumption of innocence. But what was the good? He would soon +know her real record, if he did not already know it. Kind friends would +soon enlighten him, and then he would despise her the more. A man of +such broad experience was not to be hoodwinked so easily. No, it was +folly to beat about the bush. At one time she might have seized the +happiness he held out to her, but now it was too late. + +"What is it?" he persisted. "Do you mean that man Brockton? Is he the +obstacle?" + +"He is one of them," she answered firmly. She was astonished at her own +self-possession, but there was a quiver in her voice as she went on: +"My life has been different to what you perhaps think. I am not +altogether to blame, although I have no excuses to offer. You +understand now?" + +She half expected an explosion of wrath, but none came. Instead, he +said calmly: + +"I know all about your past life. I've known everything from the first: +how you went to San Francisco as a kid and got into the show business, +and how you went wrong, and then how you married--still a kid--and how +your husband didn't treat you exactly right, and then how, in a fit of +frenzied drunkenness he came home and shot himself." + +The girl leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. A low moan +escaped her lips. Madison touched her gently on the shoulder. + +"But that's all past now," he went on. "We can forget that. I know how +you were up against it, after that; how hard it was for you to get +along. Then, finally, how you've lived, and--and that you and that man +Brockton have been--well--never mind. I know all this, and still I ask +you to marry me. What is past makes no difference. I don't care what +you have been but only what you are. If you think you care enough for +me to leave this man and begin life anew with me, I'll marry you. I may +not be able to give you all the luxuries his money provided, but at +least, as my wife, you'll be able to lift your head up in the world. I +don't profess to be a saint myself. I'm no better and no worse than the +next man, and I'm not unreasonable enough to expect too much in a woman +who has had to make her own way in the world--especially on the stage. +There's some good in you, yet, Laura; I believe in you. Something tells +me that you'll make good if only given half a chance, and that chance I +hold out to you now. Break away from this rotten life you've been +leading. It can end only in one way. You're young now, and you're +beautiful, and it doesn't seem to matter, but some day your youth and +beauty will be gone, and what then? Quit now, while there's still time. +Be my wife. I'll work hard for you, and, with God's help and you to +inspire me, I'll get there!" + +She listened in silence. His melodious, earnest voice sounded like +sacred music in her ears. It was a glimpse of Heaven that he gave her, +a promise of redemption and regeneration, yet her heart told her that +it was impossible. If she consented, what would the outcome be? One +day, sooner or later, he would regret having married her and would +taunt her with her past. They would not be able to take a step in New +York but some one would point derisively at her. + +"It's impossible," she murmured weakly. + +"Why?" he persisted. + +"Give me time to consider," she pleaded. + +"I'll give you until to-morrow." + +With that, he released her, and went to light the lamps of the +automobile. It was now quite dark, and it required skilful manoeuvring +to find the right road. The return home was silent; each was engrossed +in thought. At the door of the hotel he merely pressed her hand. + +"To-morrow," he whispered. + +All night long she tossed feverishly. Sleep was out of the question. In +a few hours she must decide what her future life would be--the petted, +pampered mistress of Willard Brockton, wealthy member of the New York +Stock Exchange, or the wife of John Madison, an interesting but +impecunious newspaper reporter. If she married this man, it meant that +she must relinquish immediately everything she loved--her sumptuous +apartment on Riverside Drive, her automobile, her beautiful gowns, and +gay little midnight champagne suppers in good company. Her life +henceforth would be dreadfully prosaic and commonplace. She would be +comparatively poor, perhaps in actual want. Even if she remained on the +stage, she could not hope to secure good parts. Probably she would not +be able to dress even decently; no one would look at her; she would +have to darn stockings and be content with one hat a season--all this +was a picture depressing and discouraging enough to one who had been +accustomed to all the luxuries money can buy. + +On the other hand there would be compensatory advantages not to be +ignored. As John Madison's legitimate wife, she could once more take +her place in the world as a virtuous woman. She could again lift up her +head and look decent people honestly in the face. She would be the +lawful wife, entitled to regard, not the despised paramour, a plaything +to be discarded and thrown aside at a man's whim. Once more she would +be able to feel respect for herself. At heart Laura was not a bad girl. +She was weak and luxury loving, and, when tempted, had been unable to +resist entering into a style of living which suited her own peculiar +tastes. She had paid the price with a light heart, but as she grew +older she was becoming wiser. She realized what an awful price she was +paying for her fun. She knew that, with the sacrifice of her chastity, +she had surrendered everything a self-respecting woman holds dear, all +for what--a few glittering trinkets! In what was she better than a +common wanton? And what would her end be, but the end of all women of +her kind? When her youth had passed and her beauty had faded, her +admirers would grow cold and indifferent. Abandoned by all, friendless +and homeless, she would go unwept to an early grave. + +The thought was one to fill her with horror. Why not try to save +herself now, while there was yet time? She still had a chance. A +drowning man will grasp even at a straw. She was not irretrievably +lost. The devil might still be cheated of a victim. This man believed +in her; he offered to make her his honored wife. He forgave the past +and held out a generous hand to save her. A revulsion of feeling +suddenly shook the girl to the innermost recesses of her being. Burying +her face in her pillow, she burst into a flood of tears. For the first +time in her life, her better instincts were awakened. + +She would show the world that it had misjudged her, that she was not as +bad as she seemed. Her future life, her future conduct should redeem +all that had gone before. Perhaps the Almighty would be merciful and +hold out a forgiving hand. She might still be a happy, decent woman. +With a prayer on her lips, she dropped down on her knees. The +following-day this telegram flashed over the wires to New York: + + "Theatre closes next Saturday night. You needn't come for me. Am + invited to spend a week with a lady at Colorado Spring's. Will + return to New York alone. + + LAURA." + +A few hours later this message was received in reply: + + "Am compelled to go to Kansas City on business, so will pick you up + anyhow. Leave address at Denver hotel. + + WILL." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Mrs. Williams' ranch house at Colorado Springs was universally admitted +to be a show place even among the many magnificent summer residences +with which this fashionable resort is dotted. Perched high on the side +of the famous Ute Pass, a wildly picturesque spot, so called because +the Ute Indians used it as a favorite trail across the mountains, and +commanding an unobstructed view of the beautiful valley below, it was a +conspicuous land-mark for miles. The house, unusually pretentious for a +country home, and built of reddish rough stone in the Greek style of +architecture, was two stories high, with a square turret on one side +and a low, broad roof overhanging a stone terrace. Massive stone +benches, also of Greek design, and strewn with cushions, were placed +here and there, while over the western terrace, shading it from the +afternoon sun, was suspended a canopy made from a Navajo blanket. The +well-kept grounds, with trailing vines around the balustrades, groups +of marble statuary, a fountain of a marble Venus gracefully splashing +water into a wide basin in which floated large, white lilies, privet +hedges, artistically clipped to represent all kinds of fantastic +figures, rattan lounging chairs, and tables with the leading papers and +magazines--all suggested a home of culture and wealth. So close was the +house to the edge of the declivity that at one end the terrace actually +overlooked the canon, a sheer drop of 2,000 feet, while across the +yawning chasm, one could see the rolling foothills and lofty heights of +the Rockies, with Pike's Peak in the distance, snow-capped and +colossal. + +For more than a week Laura had been Mrs. Williams' guest. The rich +society woman had taken a great liking to the young actress, and would +not hear of her departure. An inveterate bridge player, she insisted on +Laura staying, if only to learn the game. So, partly because she was +unwilling to give offense, partly because she was comfortable and happy +there, and at the same time near the man she loved, she had consented +to remain a little longer. But only for a few days, she insisted. +Autumn was already at hand. There was no time to lose. She realized +that if she wanted to find a good engagement for the coming season she +must return to New York at once, for, from now on, there would be no +influence to aid her. To secure future engagements she must rely on her +own efforts alone. + +She did not regret the step she had taken. On the contrary, for the +first time in her life, she felt perfectly happy and carefree. When, +the day following their excursion to the Garden of the Gods, he had +come to the hotel for her answer, there was very little said. Her eyes +spoke to him, and he understood. + +"Very well, John," she said simply. + +He turned very pale, and, drawing her to him, kissed her solemnly. + +"It's until death, little one!" + +"Until death!" she repeated gravely. + +Then they both sat down together and enthusiastically began to make +plans for the future. + +It was not without due premeditation that Madison had entered into this +affair. He was not the kind of man to undertake anything lightly. +Everything he had done in his life had been long and well thought out. +He liked this girl and he wanted her for his wife. Both her beauty and +her personality pleased him. He knew that she was not the kind of woman +to whom men usually give their names, but he had never been +conventional. He ridiculed and scoffed at the conventions. He made his +own social laws and cared not a rap for the good or bad opinion of the +world. If there had been opportunities to meet decent women, of good +social standing, he had always thrown them aside with the exclamation +that such women bored him to death, and in all his relations with the +opposite sex there had never entered into his heart a feeling or idea +of real affection until now. He fell, for a moment only, under the +spell of Laura's fascination, and then, drawing aloof, with cold logic +he analyzed her and found out that while outwardly she had every sign +of girlhood ingenuousness, sweetness of character and possibility of +affection, spiritually and mentally she was nothing more than a moral +wreck. At the beginning of their acquaintance he had watched with +covert amusement her efforts to win him, and he had likewise noted her +disappointment at her failure--not, he believed, that she cared so much +for him personally, but that it hurt her vanity not to be successful +with this big, good-natured, penniless bohemian, when men of wealth and +position she made kneel at her feet. From afar he had watched her +slowly changing point of view, how from an artificial ingenuousness she +became serious, womanly, sincere. He knew that he had awakened in her +her first decent affection, and he knew that she was awakening in him +his first desire to accomplish things and be big and worth while. So, +together, these two began to drift toward a path of decent dealing, +decent ambition, decent thought and decent love, until at last they had +both found themselves, acknowledged all the badness of what had been, +and planned for all the goodness of what was to be. + +Laura's immediate task, and assuredly it was both a difficult and +unpleasant one, was to acquaint Will Brockton with her determination. +That the news would astonish him, was certain. She also thought that he +would be sorry. In his indifferent, selfish way, she believed that he +cared for her--perhaps more than for any of the other women he had +known. She knew him too well to believe that he would make a scene. He +was too much the gentleman and man of the world for that. He would +accept the situation philosophically. Besides, any opposition on his +part would be in direct violation of their agreement, that it was her +privilege to quit whensoever she might choose. She was considerably put +out at first when she received his telegram telling her that he was +coming to Denver to fetch her back, and her first impulse was to send a +wire to stop him. She thought she would prefer to wait and tell him in +New York. But, on consideration, she did nothing of the kind. Perhaps +it were better to have it over with at once. Why make a mystery of it? +There was nothing to conceal. The sooner every one knew it the better. + +He had reached Denver that morning, and, finding she had already left +Colorado Springs, followed here there post haste. He arrived at Mr. +Williams' villa, _debonnair_ and immaculate, as usual, and in the +kindly paternal manner characteristic of him, he saluted Laura with a +chaste kiss. + +"Why, kid, how well you look!" he exclaimed heartily. + +Laura was looking her best that morning. She had not expected Brockton +so soon. Indeed, she had dressed to please John, who came to see her +every afternoon. Her gown, made of summery, filmy stuff, was simple, +girlish and attractive. Her hair, arranged in the simplest fashion, was +parted in the center. There was about her that sweetness and +girlishness of demeanor which had been her greatest asset through life. + +Embarrassed, and temporarily at a loss how to account to her hostess +for the broker's presence and evident intimacy, the young girl +introduced him as--her uncle. It was not the first white fib she had +told in her life, and it was one of the least harmful. With ready tact, +she quickly added that Mr. Brockton was a skilful bridge player. This +was enough to insure his welcome. Mrs. Williams, impressed with the +visitor's talents and aristocratic appearance insisted on his staying +to dinner, which cordial invitation he politely accepted. +Diplomatically, he burst into extravagant raptures over the beauty of +the view. + +"What a magnificent panorama! This is worth coming a thousand miles to +see." + +Visibly pleased, Mrs. Williams smiled: + +"I hope you will afford me the privilege of entertaining you a few +days. We could show you views still more beautiful." + +Brockton bowed. + +"You are very kind, madame. I regret exceedingly that business calls me +immediately back to New York." + +"But not before you've shown us your skill at bridge," she laughed. +"We're having a game inside now. I'll be pleased to have you join us." + +"I shall be delighted," he bowed. + +The old lady reentered the house to join her friends, and he turned +quickly to Laura: + +"When can you get ready?" + +She made no answer. Apparently she had not heard. Sitting at the end of +the terrace, she leaned over the balustrade of the porch, looking +intently into the canon below, as if expecting to see some one, her +eyes shielded with her hands from the hot afternoon sun. Approaching +her, Brockton repeated the question. + +"When can you get ready?" + +She started as if suddenly surprised in some secret reverie. + +"Ready? What for?" + +"Why--to go back to New York, of course." + +"New York?" she echoed. + +"Yes," he said mockingly, "New York. Why, Laura, what's the matter? You +seem dazed. Didn't you ever hear of a little old place called New +York?" + +She laughed nervously. + +"Don't be silly." Passing her hand over her forehead, she said: "I'm a +little stupid to-day--I think it's the sun." + +At that moment a maid servant approached the broker. + +"Mrs. Williams wishes me to show you to your room, sir," she said. + +"All right," replied Brockton, turning to follow her. To Laura, he +said: "I'll go and brush up. Wait for me here. I'll be back in a +minute." + +Laura sat motionless, watching the winding road, which, like a long, +undulating ribbon, led up the declivity out of the valley. Straining +her eyes, she tried to make out the little cloud of dust that would +warn her of John's approach. She wondered what detained him. He said he +would come at four o'clock, and now it was nearly five. Yet, perhaps, +it was just as well. It would hardly do for the men to meet until she +had had her talk with Will. The critical moment had come. She must tell +Brockton everything. Nothing must be held back. He must be told that +she had finished with him forever. + +In a few minutes Brockton reappeared, smoking a cigar. Clean-shaven and +comfortable in a Tuxedo coat, he had the air of a man at peace with +himself and the whole world. Laura was still sitting where he had left +her. With her head resting on one hand in a meditative manner, she was +so intently watching the road that she did not look up as he +approached. He watched her for a moment without speaking. Then slowly +removing his cigar from his mouth, he asked laconically: + +"Blue?" + +She shook her head. + +"No." + +"What's up?" + +"Nothing." + +"A little preoccupied?" + +"Perhaps." + +Still she did not turn her head, yet her heart was beating fast. This +was her opportunity. He looked in the same direction she was looking. + +"What's up that way?" he demanded. + +"Which way?" + +"The way you are looking." + +"That's the road from Manitou Springs. They call it the trail out +here." + +Brockton nodded. + +"I know that. I've done a lot of business west of the Missouri." + +The girl gave a half-yawn of indifference. + +"I didn't know it," she said. + +"Oh, yes," he went on; "south of here, in the San Juan country. Spent a +couple of years there once." + +"That's interesting," replied Laura, with another yawn, and still not +turning her head. + +With a chuckle of self-satisfaction, he went on: + +"It was then that I made some money there. It's always interesting when +you make money. Still----" + +"Still what?" she asked absent-mindedly. + +He looked at her, as if surprised at her manner. Somewhat impatiently +he said: + +"I can't make out why you have your eyes glued on that road. Some one +coming?" + +"Yes." + +"One of Mrs. Williams' friends, eh?" + +Crossing to the other side of the terrace, he seated himself in one of +the comfortable lounging chairs. + +"Yes," answered the girl. + +"Yours, too?" he asked dryly. + +"Yes." + +"Man?" + +"Yes, a _real_ man." + +There was no mistaking the significance of these last words, which she +uttered with strong emphasis, as if they came right from the heart. + +The broker sat up with a start. At first he was too surprised to speak, +but quickly he regained his composure, and gave vent to a long, low +whistle, which was inaudible to his companion. Carelessly throwing his +cigar over the balustrade, he rose from his seat, and stood leaning on +another chair a short distance away. Laura, meantime, had not moved, +except to place her left hand on a cushion and lean her head wearily +against it. She still sat motionless, her gaze steadfastly fixed on the +road in the pass. Brockton broke the rather awkward silence. + +"A _real_ man?" he echoed. "By that you mean----" + +"Just that," she said testily, "a real man." + +He gave an imperceptible shrug with his shoulders, and his tone was +tinged with irony as he inquired with forced mildness: + +"Any different--from the _many_ you have known?" + +"Yes," she retorted; "from _all_ I have known." + +He laughed derisively. + +"So that's why you didn't come into Denver to meet me to-day, but left +word for me to come out here?" + +"Yes." + +"I thought I was pretty decent to take a dusty ride half-way across the +continent in order to keep you company on your way back to New York, +and welcome you to our home, but maybe I had the wrong idea." + +She nodded, and almost mockingly replied: + +"Yes, I think you had the wrong idea." + +"In love, eh?" he chuckled. + +"Yes," she answered firmly. "Just that--in love." + +He smiled grimly. + +"A new sensation?" + +"No," she retorted quick as a flash, "the first conviction." + +He left the seat on which he was leaning, and approached nearer to +where she still sat crouched. + +"You have had that idea before," he said ironically. "Every woman's +love is the real one when it comes. Do you make a distinction in this +case, young lady?" + +"Yes," she answered. + +"For instance, what?" + +She rose to her feet, and, going to a chair, sat carelessly on one of +the arms, drawing imaginary lines on the ground with her parasol. He +could see that she was highly nervous and trying hard to control +herself. Quickly she said: + +"This man is poor--absolutely broke. He hasn't even got a good job. You +know, Will--all the rest, including yourself, generally had some +material inducement----" + +The broker gave a snort of impatience, and, going to the table, picked +up a magazine, and made a pretense of becoming deeply interested in its +contents. But his fit of sulks did not last long. Looking up, he +growled: + +"What's his business?" + +"He's a newspaper man." + +"H'm-m! Romance, eh?" + +"Yes, if you want to call it that--romance." + +"Do I know him?" + +She shook her head and smiled. + +"I hardly think so. He has been to New York only once or twice in his +life, and he's not the kind of man one usually finds in your set." + +Brockton sat looking at her with an amused, indulgent, almost paternal +expression on his face. In contrast with his big, bluff physical +personality, his iron-gray hair and bull-dog expression Laura appeared +more youthful and girlish than ever. A stranger catching a glimpse of +the terrace might have taken them for father and daughter engaged in an +intimate chat. + +"How old is he?" he demanded. + +"Thirty." Instantly she added: "You are forty-five." + +"No," he corrected dryly; "forty-six." + +Laura laughed. She saw that his good-humor had returned. At least there +was no immediate danger of his doing anything desperate. The nervous +tension was over for the time being. Rising and going near to him, she +asked archly: + +"Shall I tell you about him, eh?" + +The broker looked serious. + +"That depends." + +"On what?" + +"Yourself." + +"In what way?" she demanded. + +He hesitated and looked at her for a moment in silence before he +replied: + +"If it will interfere with the plans I have made for you and myself." + +The girl turned her head. Coldly, she said: + +"Have you made any particular plans for me that have anything +particularly to do with you?" + +Lighting another cigar, he said with assumed nonchalance: + +"Why, yes. I have given up the lease of your apartment on West End +Avenue and bought a house on Riverside Drive. I thought you would like +it better. Everything will be quiet and nice. It'll be more comfortable +for you. There's a stable nearby. Your horses and car can be kept +there. I'm going to put the house in your name. That way you'll be your +own mistress. Besides, I've fixed you up for a new part." + +[Illustration: "I'VE BOUGHT A HOUSE FOR YOU ON RIVERSIDE DRIVE." + _Page 86._] + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Laura gasped, and opened wide her eyes. A house of her own on Riverside +Drive! She had always wished for that; it had been the dream of her +life. Why--it meant that independence, wealth were already hers! She +need have no more gnawing anxiety about the future. The price? Well, +had she not paid it already? Perhaps she had been foolish. The world is +hard--one never gets the credit for trying to be decent. Who would +care? Yes--one would. She saw a pair of honest gray eyes seeking hers +and questioning her, demanding if she had been true to their +oath--"until death!" + +"A new part!" she faltered. "What kind of a part?" + +A covert smile played about the broker's lips. He had noted her +hesitation, and well he knew the weight of his words. He had not +studied women all these years for nothing. Carelessly he went on: + +"One of Charlie Burgess's shows, translated from some French fellow. +It's been running over in Paris, Berlin, Vienna, and all those places +for a year or more, and appears to be a tremendous hit. It's a big +production, and it's going to cost a lot of money to do it here. I told +Charlie he could put me down for a half-interest and I'd give all the +money, provided that you got an important role. Great part, I'm +told--just the kind of thing you've been looking for. Looks as if it +might stay in New York all season. That's the change of plan. How does +it strike you?" + +Laura averted her face and made no reply. Going to the edge of the +terrace, she leaned against the balustrade, and gazed once more into +the depths below. The sun had already begun to set behind the distant +mountain-tops, and the canon was beautiful in its tints of purple and +amber. + +"How does it strike you?" he repeated. + +"I don't know," she replied without turning her head. + +He rose from his seat and strolled towards her. The good-humor had +faded out of his face. The lines about his mouth were more tightly +drawn. It was evident that his patience was exhausted and that he was +becoming angry. But Brockton never made a scene. No matter how incensed +he might be, he never lost his _sang froid_ or forgot his manners. +Quietly he asked: + +"Feel like quitting?" + +"I can't tell," she replied in the same indifferent tone. + +"So it's the newspaper man, eh?" + +"That would be the only reason." + +Turning quickly, he placed himself in a position so that he faced her. +Looking her steadily in the eyes, he said slowly: + +"You've been on the square with me this summer, haven't you?" + +She instantly noted the change in his tone. Her face grew a shade +paler, but she looked up at him without flinching. Quickly she said: + +"What do you mean by 'on the square'?" + +"Don't evade," he exclaimed, slightly raising his voice. "There's only +one meaning when I say that--and you know it. I'm pretty liberal, +Laura, but you understand where I draw the line----" Sternly and more +slowly he added: "You've not jumped that, have you?" + +The girl tossed her head haughtily. There are some questions no one may +ask or answer. She looked him straight in the face. He could read +nothing there. Quietly she said: + +"This has been such a wonderful summer, such a wonderfully different +summer." It was her turn to be ironical when she added: "Can you +understand what I mean by that, when I say 'a wonderfully different +summer'?" + +The broker smiled in spite of himself. + +"So--he's thirty and 'broke,' and you're twenty-five and pretty. He +evidently, being a newspaper man, has that peculiar gift of gab that we +call romantic expression. So I guess I'm not blind. You both think +you've fallen in love. That it?" + +"Yes," replied the girl gravely. "I think that's about it, only I don't +agree with the 'gift of gab' and the 'romantic' end of it. He's a man +and I'm a woman, and we've both had our adventures. His are more +respectable than mine, that's all." Musingly, as if to herself, she +added: "I don't think, Will, that there can be much of that element +which some folk describe as hallucination. We know what we're about." + +Picking up from the table a box of candies which the broker had brought +her, she selected one of the sugared delicacies and popped it in her +mouth. Brockton walked up and down with long, nervous strides. The +girl's calmness disconcerted him. With all his experience, he was at a +loss how to handle her. Perhaps he might try a final shot. + +"Then the Riverside Drive proposition and Burgess's show offer are off, +eh?" he said sharply. + +Hesitatingly she answered: + +"I don't say that." + +"And if you go back on the Overland Limited day after to-morrow," he +went on bitterly, "you'd just as soon I'd go to-morrow or wait until +the day after you leave!" + +"I didn't say that, either," she replied, replacing the candy box on +the table. + +He stopped short. + +"What's the game?" he demanded impatiently. + +"I can't tell you now." + +"Waiting for him to come?" + +"Exactly." + +"Think he's serious, eh?" + +"I know he is." + +"Marriage?" + +"Possibly." + +He laughed ironically. + +"You've tried that once," he said, "and taken the wrong end. Are you +going to play the same game again?" + +"Yes--but with a different card," she answered. + +"What's his name?" + +"Madison--John Madison." + +Picking up a magazine, she slowly turned the pages. + +"And his job?" + +"I told you--a reporter." + +The broker gave a low and expressive whistle. Sarcastically he +inquired: "What are you going to live on--extra editions?" + +"No, we're young, there's plenty of time," she answered calmly. "I can +work in the meantime and so can he. With his ability and my ability it +will only be a matter of a year or two when things will shape +themselves to make it possible." + +Brockton chuckled to himself. + +"Sounds well--a year off." + +Irritated at his facetious tone and bantering manner, the girl plainly +showed her resentment. Her face flushed, and, throwing down the +magazine, she went towards the door of the house. Petulantly she cried: + +"If I had thought you were going to make fun of me, Will, I wouldn't +have talked to you at all." + +Quickly he made a step forward and intercepted her. + +"I don't want to make fun of you, but you must realize that after two +years it isn't exactly pleasant to be dumped with so little ceremony. +Maybe you have never given me any credit for possessing the slightest +feeling, but even I can receive shocks from other sources than a break +in the market." + +She stopped and looked at him kindly. Her voice was softened as she +said: + +"It isn't easy for me to do this, Will. You've been awfully kind, +awfully considerate, but when I went to you it was just with the +understanding that we were to be pals. You reserved the right then to +quit me whenever you felt like it, and you gave me the same privilege. +Now, if some girl came along who really captivated you in the right +way, and you wanted to marry, it would hurt me a little--maybe a +lot--but I should never forget that agreement we made, a sort of two +weeks' notice clause, like people have in contracts." + +The broker turned away, visibly moved. Striding up to the edge of the +terrace, he stood looking down into the canon. Laura remained where he +had left her, looking after him. There followed a long silence, which +at length he broke. + +"I'm not hedging, Laura. If that's the way you want it to be, I'll +stand by just exactly what I said." Turning and looking at her, he went +on: "But I'm fond of you, a damned sight fonder than I thought I was, +now that I find you slipping away; but if this young fellow is on the +square----" + +She approached him and slipped her hand in his. He went on: + +"If he's on the square, and has youth and ability, and you've been on +the square with him, why, all right. Your life hasn't had much in it to +help you get a diploma from any celestial college, and if you can start +out now and be a good girl, have a good husband, and maybe some day +good children, why--I'm not going to stand in the way. Only, I don't +want you to make any of those mistakes that you made before." + +"I know," she smiled sadly, "but somehow I feel that this time the real +thing has come and with it the real man. I can't tell you, Will, how +much different it is, but everything I felt before seemed so sort of +earthy--and somehow the love that I have for this man is so different. +For the first time in my life it's made me want to be truthful and +sincere and humble. The only other thing I ever had that I cared the +least bit about, now that I look back, was your friendship." +Impulsively throwing her arms around him, she added: "We have been good +pals, haven't we?" + +He smiled as he fondled her. + +"Yes; it's been a mighty good two years for me. I was always proud to +take you around, because I think you are one of the prettiest things in +New York." + +Playfully, her good spirits once more in the ascendant, she jumped into +the armchair with a little girlish laugh. He went on: + +"You're always jolly and you never complained. You spent a lot of +money, but it was a pleasure to see you spend it, and what's more, you +never offended me. Most women offend men by coming around looking +untidy and sort of unkempt, but somehow you always knew the value of +your beauty and you always dressed up. I always thought that maybe some +day the fellow would come along, grab you, and make you happy in a nice +way, but I thought that he'd have to have a lot of money. You know, +you've lived a rather extravagant life for five years, Laura. It won't +be an easy job to come down to cases and suffer for the little dainty +necessities you've been used to." + +She sat leaning forward, her chin resting on her hands, a serious, +far-away expression on her face. Slowly she said: + +"I've thought all about that, and I think I understand." + +"You know how it is," he went on. "If you were working without +anybody's help, you might have a hard time getting an engagement. As an +actress, you're only fair." + +Laura toyed impatiently with her parasol. + +"You needn't remind me of that," she said testily. "That part of my +life is my own. I don't want you to start now and make it harder for me +to do the right thing. It isn't fair; it isn't square, and it isn't +right. You've got to let me go my own way." Putting her hand on the +broker's shoulder, she went on: "I'm sorry to leave you, Will, in a +way, but I want you to know that if I go with John it changes the +spelling of the word 'comradeship' into 'love,' and the word 'mistress' +into 'wife.' Now, please don't talk any more." + +"Just a word," he interrupted. "Is it absolutely settled?" + +"I told you I didn't know exactly what our plans are," she answered +impatiently. "I shall know to-day--that's what I'm waiting for. I can't +understand why he doesn't come." + +The broker, whose gaze had been idly sweeping the canon, suddenly sat +up and pointed up the pass. + +"Is that the fellow, coming up here?" he exclaimed. + +Laura rose quickly from her seat, and, running to the balustrade, +peered over. + +"Where?" she asked. + +"Up the road there," said Brockton, pointing. "Don't you see the man on +that yellow horse?" + +She looked a moment, straining her eyes. + +"Yes--that's John!" Waving her handkerchief and putting one hand to her +mouth, she cried out: "Hello!" + +From the distance came the sound of a man's voice: + +"Hello yourself!" + +"Hurry up, you're late!" cried Laura, her face now flushed from +pleasure and excitement. + +"Better late than never," came the rejoinder. + +"Hurry up," she repeated. + +"Not with this horse," was the answer. + +Laura turned to Brockton, her face beaming. Enthusiastically she +exclaimed: + +"Now, Will, does he look like a yellow reporter?" + +The broker's face broke into a rather uncomfortable smile. + +"He _is_ a good-looking chap." + +The girl leaned far over the balustrade to watch her lover's progress. + +"Oh, he's just simply more than that!" Turning quickly to the broker, +she asked: "Where's Mrs. Williams?" + +He pointed indoors. + +"She was in there playing bridge when I came out." + +Going hurriedly to the door leading into the house, Laura called out: + +"Mrs. Williams! Oh, Mrs. Williams!" + +"What is it, my dear?" replied her hostess from within. + +"Mr. Madison is coming up the path." + +"That's good," came the reply. "He's just in time for dinner." + +"Won't you come out and see him?" + +"No, my child. I'm up to my neck in bridge. I'm six dollars and twenty +cents out now, and up against an awful streak of luck." + +"Shall I invite him to dinner?" + +"Yes, do, dear; and tell him to cross his fingers when he thinks of +me." + +The girl ran back to Brockton, who was still standing at the edge of +the terrace, watching the rider's progress. Slipping her hand +involuntarily through the broker's arm and looking eagerly with him +over the balustrade, she asked with girlish enthusiasm: + +"Do you like him?" + +"I don't know him," replied Brockton with an amused smile. + +"Well, do you think you'll like him?" she persisted. + +"I hope I'll like him," he answered reservedly. + +"Well, if you hope you'll like him, you ought to think you'll like him. +He'll turn the corner of that rock in just a minute, and then you can +see him. Do you want to see him?" + +"Why, yes--do you?" he replied, amused at her girlish enthusiasm. + +"Do I?" she echoed. "Why, I haven't seen him since last night. There he +is!" Waving her hand wildly, she cried out: "Hello, John!" + +The rider was now close at hand, for Madison's voice was heard in all +the fullness of its rich, deep tones: + +"Hello, girlie! How's everything?" + +"Fine!" she called back. "Do hurry." + +"Tell that to this horse, will you? The word 'hurry' is not in his +dictionary." + +"I'm coming down to meet you," she called again. + +"All right!" came the answer. + +Turning quickly to Brockton, like a spoilt child, pleading for a favor, +she said demurely: + +"You don't care. You'll wait, won't you?" + +"Sure," replied the broker laconically. + +The girl ran nimbly down the stairs of the terrace, and disappeared +among the cactus bushes. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Brockton leaned over the balustrade trying, through the increasing +dusk, to catch a glimpse of the girl's slender form, as in her light +summer gown she flitted among the trees. The autumn afternoon was now +far advanced. The shadows of approaching night were already falling +across the Pass. The golden glow that tinged the distant snow-clad +peaks grew deeper in color. The lights were rapidly fading to beautiful +opalescent hues. + +It was only by the exercise of the greatest self-control that the +broker had retained his composure. What the girl had just told him was +a staggering and unexpected blow. Underneath the man's stolid, +business-like manner, there was a big heart. He was selfish and +comfort-loving, like most men of his class and opportunities, but he +was far from being as callous and blase as he pretended. He had grown +to be very fond of Laura. He knew that up to this time and during her +whole career he was the first man who had had any real influence over +her. Since the day when they first became pals, he had always +dominated, and while his moral teaching left much to be desired, he had +always endeavored to keep her semi-respectable in the bohemian, +unconventional kind of life she had elected to lead. His coming all the +way from New York to Denver to accompany her home--for the business at +Kansas City was, of course, only a pleasant fiction--was proof of his +keen interest in the girl. And what a disappointment awaited him! He +had come after her, only to find that she had drifted away from him. +What perhaps made matters worse, he could not in the least object to +the manner of her going. She had been absolutely fair and square in her +agreement with him. If this new love affair really meant new life to +her, respectability, happiness, he would be worse than a cad to stand +in her way. Nor could he, logically, bear any malice towards the man +who was taking her from him. + +Presently he heard voices and footsteps on the walk below, and the next +moment Laura reappeared, dragging John Madison after her. The big +fellow's clothes were dusty after the long ride. His corduroy trousers +were encased in leggings, and on his boots were brass spurs, such as +are worn in the army. In his hand he held rather awkwardly a gray +cowboy hat. As the two men faced one another, there was a dramatic +pause. Each looked at the other interrogatively, with ill-disguised +hostility. One felt it needed but a spark to bring about an explosion. +Physically, they were both fine-looking men, although the contrast was +most marked. Brockton was tall and well-built, and many considered him +a handsome man, but by the side of the big Westerner, he suffered by +comparison. The broker was the conventional type of Eastern business +man, the style of man one meets in clubs and drawing-rooms, well +dressed, well groomed; John Madison, in his six feet of muscular +manhood, careless and picturesque in attire, suggested the free, open +life on the plains, where men face danger as a matter of course, and +are prepared to defend their lives at an instant's notice. Each man +took the other's measure in silence, neither flinching a muscle. The +smile faded from Madison's face, and his mouth dropped into an +expression of fierce determination. For a moment, Laura almost lost her +self composure. Nervous, frightened, now that she had brought them +together, her voice trembled slightly from apprehension: + +"Oh, I beg your pardon! Mr. Madison--this is Mr. Brockton, a friend of +mine from New York. You've often heard me speak of him. He came out +here to keep me company when I go home." + +Madison advanced with hand outstretched. Looking the broker straight in +the eye, he said: + +"I am very glad to know you, Mr. Brockton." + +"Thank you," returned the New Yorker with forced cordiality. + +The newspaper man shuffled uneasily on his feet, as if he realized the +false position in which both of them were placed, but was ready enough, +if only for convenience sake, to avoid hostilities. Indeed, the +broker's easy and friendly manner entirely disarmed the antagonism that +Madison had long been nursing. With a side glance, at Laura, he went +on: + +"I've heard a great deal about you and your kindness to Miss Murdock. +Anything that you have done for her in a spirit of friendliness, I am +sure all her friends must deeply appreciate, and I count myself in as +one." + +Brockton smiled amiably, as he replied: + +"Then we have a great deal in common, Mr. Madison, for I also count +Miss Murdock a friend, and when two friends of a friend have the +pleasure of meeting, I daresay that's a pretty good foundation for them +to become friends, too." + +The big fellow nodded and showed his white teeth. With a determined +effort not to show himself behind his rival in cordiality, he said: + +"Whatever my opinion may have been of you, Mr. Brockton, before you +arrived, now I have seen you--and I'm a man who forms his conclusions +right off the bat--I don't mind saying you've agreeably surprised me. +That's just a first impression, but they run kind o' strong with me." + +Brockton carelessly flecked the ash from his cigar as he answered in +the same tone: + +"Well, young man, I size up a fellow in pretty short order, and all +things being equal, I think you'll do." + +Laura, radiant at this totally unexpected result of the encounter, +looked from one man to the other in delighted amazement. She was afraid +they would fly at each other's throats, and here they were, apparently, +the best of friends. Making a move towards the house she said: + +"Shall I get the tea?" + +"Tea?" exclaimed Madison in mock dismay. + +The girl shook her finger in his face. + +"Yes, tea. You know it must be tea--nothing stronger." + +Madison looked comically at the broker: + +"How strong are you for that tea, Mr. Brockton?" + +"I'll pass," rejoined the broker, entering into the spirit of the fun, +"it's your deal, Mr. Madison." + +"Mine?" echoed the Westerner, laughing. "No, deal me out this hand." + +Putting on her favorite little pout, Laura pretended to be angry. + +"I don't think you're at all pleasant, but I'll tell you one +thing--it's tea this deal or no game." + +Throwing herself into a seat, she picked up a magazine, and made a +pretense of becoming interested in the illustrations. + +Brockton moved towards the entrance to the house. + +"No game then," he said laughingly. "I'm going in to help Mrs. +Williams. Maybe she's lost seven dollars by this time. I may be able to +get it back for her." + +He disappeared in the house. Directly he was gone Laura sprang from her +seat, and running up to Madison, flung her arms unrestrainedly about +his neck. + +"John!" she exclaimed. + +"Well, dear?" + +"Are you going to be cross with me?" + +"Why?" + +"Because he came?" + +"Because who came?" he demanded, "Brockton?" + +"Yes." + +"You didn't know, did you?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"That he was coming?" + +"He wired me when he reached Kansas City." + +"Does he know?" + +"About us?" + +"Yes." + +"I've told him." + +"When?" + +"To-day." + +"Here?" + +"Yes." + +Madison looked at her closely for a moment. Then slowly, he asked: + +"What was the result?" + +"I think it hurt him." + +"Naturally." + +Thoughtfully, almost pensively, she added: + +"More than I had any idea it would." + +Madison shrugged his big, square shoulders, and sinking into a chair, +said laconically: + +"I'm sorry." + +"He cautioned me to be very careful, and to be sure I knew my way." + +"That's right," nodded Madison approvingly. + +Laura took a couple of cushions from a sofa near one of the windows, +and returning to where he was sitting, threw them on the ground near +his chair. From the interior of the house floated the soulful strains +of a Chopin nocturne. Sitting down quietly at his feet, she said +softly: + +"John." + +"What, dear?" + +"We've been very happy all summer." + +"Very." + +"This thing has gradually been growing on us." + +"That's true," he assented. + +Musingly she went on: + +"I little thought when I came out here to Denver to play in a little +stock company, that it was going to bring me all this happiness; but it +has, hasn't it?" + +He smiled indulgently and caressed her golden hair. Changing her +position, she got up and sat on his knee, her arms around his neck. +After a moment's silence she said: + +"Now the season's over, there's nothing to keep me in Colorado. I've +got to go back to New York and work." + +"I know," he replied gloomily. "I've been awake all night thinking +about it." + +"Well?" she asked anxiously. + +"Well?" he repeated, without satisfying her curiosity. + +"What are we going to do?" she inquired. + +He remained silent for a moment; then he said: + +"Why, you've got to go, I suppose." + +"Is it good-bye?" + +He nodded gloomily. + +"For a while, I suppose--it's good-bye." + +Turning his face round so she could see it, she looked searchingly at +him. + +"What do you mean by 'a while'?" + +"Until I get money enough together, and am making enough to support +you. Then I'll come and take you out of the show business and make you +Mrs. Madison." + +She tightened her arm around his neck and placed her cheek lovingly +against his. In one fond, pure caress she showed him all the affection +of which a woman is capable. Fondling up against him she seemed like a +dainty little kitten purring close to its master. Her every thought and +desire seemed to be centered on this man, who had taught her for the +first time the meaning of the word "love." Tenderly she said: + +"John, that is what I want above everything else." + +He smiled fondly at her. Gravely he said: + +"But, Laura, dear, we must come to some distinct understanding before +we start to make our plans. We're not children." + +"No, we're not," she assented positively. + +Rising from his knee, she went to the side of the porch and, leaning +her elbows on the balustrade, gazed meditatively out into the valley. + +"Now, in the first place," he continued, "we'll discuss you, and in the +second place we'll discuss me. We'll keep nothing from each other, and +we'll start out on this campaign of decency and honor, fully +understanding its responsibilities, without a chance of a come-back on +either side." + +Laura turned and looked at him. Her face was pale and serious. Yes, +plain words must be spoken between them and the proper time was now--so +he might yet draw back, if he found he could not take her as she was. + +"You mean," she said in a tone so low that he hardly caught it, "that +we should tell each other all about each other so, no matter what is +said about us by other people, _we'll_ know it first." + +Madison rose and paced the porch nervously: + +"That's precisely what I'm trying to get at," he said. + +The girl was silent for a moment; then hesitatingly she said: + +"Well, John, there are so many things I don't want to speak of--even to +you. It isn't easy for a woman to go back and dig up a lot of ugly +memories and try to excuse them----" + +He interrupted her: + +"I don't ask that. I know your life, as I told you. That makes no +difference now. The past is past. I love you as I know you, as you are +to-day. It's only the future we want to worry about. Laura, the habit +of life is a hard thing to get away from. You've lived in this way for +a long time. As my affianced wife you'll have to give it up. You'll +have to go back to New York and struggle along on your own hook, until +I get enough together to come for you. I don't know how long that will +be." Determinedly, almost fiercely, he added: "But it _will_ be. Do you +love me enough to stick out for the right thing?" + +The girl said nothing. Her bosom heaved and her mouth quivered. She +appeared deeply moved. Then, suddenly, going quickly up to her +companion, she threw her arms affectionately around his neck. Earnestly +she said: + +"Yes, John. I think this is my one great chance. I do love you, and I +want to do just what you say." + +The big fellow's face beamed with content and happiness as fondly he +caressed her hair. + +"I think you will, little girl," he said. "And I'm going to make the +same promise. I've been no angel myself. Ever since I've been able to +earn my own living, I've abused every natural gift God gave me. This +restlessness and love of adventure has kept me where I am. My life +hasn't been exactly loose, but it's been all in pieces. I've frittered +my time and opportunities away just for the fun of it. But, Laura, +dear--when I met you and began to know you I realized for the first +time that I was making an awful waste of myself. Now it's all +different. Give me time--only a few months--and I'll show you what I +can do." + +"John!" + +It was all she could say, but he understood, and clasping her +passionately, his head dropped lower over her face, until his warm lips +met her unresisting mouth. When, after a blissful interval, she looked +up, he saw that there were tears in her eyes. Tenderly he said: + +"Some lovers place a woman on a pedestal and say: 'She never has made a +mistake.' Well, we don't need any pedestals. I know you will never make +a mistake again." + +Gravely she placed both her hands on his square shoulders. Looking him +straight in the eyes, she said: + +"John, I will never make you take those words back." + +"That goes double," he rejoined laughingly. "You're going to cut out +the cafes and the lobster suppers, and I'm going to cut out my +shiftlessness and indolence. You're going to be somebody, and if my +hunch is worth the powder to blow it up, we'll show folks things they +never thought were in us. We'll begin right now. You're ready, ain't +you, dear?" + +"Yes, I'm ready." + +Pointing towards the house, he said: + +"Then call him." + +"Brockton?" + +"Yes, tell him you go back to New York without any traveling +companion." + +She hesitated and looked perplexed. She was hardly prepared to act so +quickly as this. + +"Now?" she demanded. + +"Now," he said firmly. + +She clasped and unclasped her hands nervously. Timidly she said: + +"You want to hear me tell him?" + +He smiled. + +"We're partners, aren't we? I ought to be in on any important +transaction like that, but it's just as you say." + +The girl nodded. Hesitatingly she said: + +"I think it would be right you should. I'll call him now." + +"All right." + +He strolled carelessly in the direction of the stairway, while Laura +moved towards the house. It was dark now outside, and the interior of +the bungalow was already lighted up. Halting just outside the front +door, she called: + +"Mr. Brockton! Oh, Mr. Brockton!" + +"Yes?" answered the broker's voice from inside. + +"Can you spare a moment to come out here?" + +"I'll be there presently." + +"No--now," she insisted. "You must come now." + +"All right, I'm coming." + +She waited for him until he appeared. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +There were few things that Brockton enjoyed more than a game of bridge. +So long as the cards went his way, he was dead to the world. Having +routed his opponents and carried everything before him for the last +half hour, he was feeling in particularly good humor, and it was only +with a mock grimace that he protested at being disturbed. + +"Say, Laura, it's a shame to lure me away from that mad speculation in +there. I thought I might make my fare back to New York, if I played +until next summer." Dropping his jesting tone, he inquired +interrogatively: "What's up?" + +"Mr. Madison wants to talk to you, or rather I do, and I want him to +listen." + +The broker gave her one keen look. She did not have to explain what the +talk was to be about. He understood instinctively. Instantly, his +manner changed. The easy jocularity vanished. Once more he was the +shrewd, hard, calculating business man. Coldly he said: + +"Very well--what is it about?" + +Descending the steps, he came down the terrace to where Laura and +Madison were seated. The girl began: + +"Say, Will----" + +"Yes," he answered icily. + +"I'm going home day after to-morrow, on the Overland Limited." + +He nodded. + +"I know." + +Awkwardly and glancing nervously at Madison, as if to gain courage, she +went on: + +"It was awfully kind of you to come out here and offer to escort me +back to New York, but--under the circumstances--I'd rather you'd take +an earlier--or a later train." + +The broker looked from one to the other. Coolly he asked: + +"May I ask what circumstances you refer to?" + +Timidly she went on: + +"Mr. Madison and I are going to be married." She paused for a moment, +as if in a dilemma how best to put it. Finally she said: "He knows of +your former friendship for me, and he thinks it must end." + +The broker gave a grunt. He was raging within, but what was the use of +being unpleasant over it? He could not alter matters. Trying to appear +unconcerned, he said: + +"Hum! Then the Riverside Drive proposition, with Burgess's show thrown +in, is off, eh?" + +"Yes," she replied firmly, "everything is absolutely declared off." + +Brockton shrugged his shoulders. With an inward chuckle he said +ironically: + +"Can't even be friends any more, eh?" + +Madison, who had listened without interfering, now rose and stepped +forward. Fixing the broker with a cold stare, he said: + +"You could hardly expect Miss Murdock to be friendly with you--under +the circumstances." Assisting Laura to put a scarf across her +shoulders, he added: "You could hardly expect me to sanction any such +friendship." + +Brockton gave a careless nod. Patronizingly he said: + +"I think I understand your position, young man, and I agree with you +perfectly, that is--if your plans turn out successful." + +"Thank you," said Madison stiffly. + +Going up to the broker, Laura held out her hand. With a smile she said: + +"Then everything is settled, just the way it ought to be--frankly and +above board?" + +Brockton took her hand, and held it in his for a minute. With a visible +effort to conceal his feelings, he said: + +"Why, I guess so. If I was perfectly confident that this new +arrangement was going to result happily for you both, I think it would +be great, only I'm somewhat doubtful, for when people become serious +and then fail, I know how hard these things hit, having been hit once +myself." + +Madison looked at him as if trying to gauge his full meaning. Then +quietly he said: + +"So you think we're making a wrong move, and there isn't a chance of +success, eh?" + +"No, I don't make any such gloomy prophecy. If you make Laura a good +husband, and she makes you a good wife, and together you win out, I'll +be mighty glad. As far as I am concerned, I shall absolutely forget +every thought of Laura's friendship for me." + +The girl looked grateful. + +"I thought you'd be just that way," she said. + +The broker rose and advancing, took both her hands. There was more than +a suspicion of emotion in his voice as he said: + +"Good-bye, girlie--be happy." Turning to the newspaper man, he said: +"Madison, good luck." Shaking him cordially by the hand he added: "I +think you've got the stuff in you to succeed, if your foot don't slip." + +The newspaper man looked at him inquiringly. Curtly he demanded: + +"What do you mean by my foot slipping, Mr. Brockton?" + +The broker returned his gaze steadily. + +"Do you want me to tell you?" + +"I sure do." + +Brockton turned to Laura, who stood listening, rather uneasy at the +turn the conversation was taking. + +"Laura," he said quietly, "run into the house and see if Mrs. Williams +has won another quarter. Madison and I are going to smoke a cigar and +have a friendly chat. When we get through, I think we'll both feel +better." + +She looked at him anxiously. Fearfully she asked: + +"You are sure that everything will be all right?" + +"Sure," he said smilingly. + +She looked at Madison, as if for reassurance. He nodded and she went +towards the house. When she had disappeared, Brockton held out a +handsomely engraved gold cigar case. + +"Have a cigar?" he said cordially, as if to make things as amicable as +possible. + +"No--I'll smoke my own," replied Madison coldly. + +The men sat down and there was a short silence, during which they lit +and puffed at their cigars. It was now pitch dark outside, and the +brilliant illuminations in the interior of the house only served to +intensify the almost opaque blackness of the grounds. Nothing could be +seen but the glow of each man's cigar, as he puffed it silently. The +broker broke the long pause. + +"What's your business?" he demanded curtly. + +"What's yours?" retorted the Westerner quickly. + +"I'm a broker." + +"I'm a reporter." + +"What kind?" inquired Brockton. + +"General utility--dog fights, and dramatic criticisms." + +"Pay you well?" asked Brockton carelessly. + +The journalist started and looked up sharply at his interlocutor. + +"That's a pretty fresh question!" he exclaimed. "What's the idea?" + +"I'm interested--that's all," replied Brockton coolly. Knocking the ash +off his cigar, he continued: "I'm a plain man, Mr. Madison, and I do +business in a plain way. Now, if I ask you a few questions and discuss +this matter with you in a frank way, don't get it in your head that I'm +jealous or sore, but simply I don't want either of you people to make a +move that's going to cost you a lot of pain and trouble. If you want me +to talk sense to you, all right. If you don't we'll drop it now. What's +the answer?" + +Madison listened attentively until he stopped speaking. Then he looked +up, his manner defiant and aggressive. + +"I'll take a chance," he said contemptuously, "but before you start I +want to tell you that the class of people you belong to, I have no use +for--they don't speak my language. You are what they call a manipulator +of stocks. That means that you are living on the weaknesses of other +people, and it almost means that you get your daily bread--yes--and +your cake and your wine, too, from the sweat and toil of others. You're +a safe gambler, a 'gambler under cover.' Show me a man who's dealing +bank; he's free and above board. But you--you can figure the percentage +against you, and then if you buck the tiger and get stung, you do it +with your eyes open. With you Wall Street men, the game is crooked +twelve months of the year. From a business point of view, I think +you're a crook!" He paused, as if to see the effect of his words. Then +he added: "Now I guess we understand each other. If you've got anything +to say, why--spill it." + +Brockton rose impatiently. His voice rising in anger, he said: + +"We're not talking business now, but women. How much money do you +earn?" + +For a moment Madison was taken aback by the very impudence of the +question. He glared at his questioner, and half rose from his seat with +a threatening gesture. But noting the cool and composed manner of the +broker, he merely shrugged his shoulders. Clenching his teeth, he +leaned forward and said warningly: + +"Understand, I don't think it is any of your damned business! But I'm +going through with you on this proposition, just to see how the land +lays. Take my tip, however. Be mighty careful how you speak about the +girl, if you're not looking for trouble." + +Paying no attention to the covert threat, Brockton went on: + +"How much did you say you made?" + +"Thirty dollars a week." + +The broker gave vent to a low, but expressive whistle. Elevating his +eyebrows, he asked: + +"Do you know how much Laura could make if she took a job just on her +own merits?" + +Madison shook his head. Impatiently he replied: + +"As I don't intend to share in her salary, I never took the trouble to +inquire." + +"She'd get about forty dollars." + +"That laps me ten," retorted the other. + +Brockton persisted. + +"But how are you going to support her?" he demanded. "Her cabs cost +more than your salary, and she pays her week's salary for an every-day +walking hat. She's always had a maid. Her simplest gown flirts with a +hundred dollar note. Her manicurist and her hairdresser will eat up as +much as you pay for your board. She never walks when it's stormy, and +every afternoon there's her ride in the park. She dines in the best +places in New York, and one meal costs her more than you make in a day. +Do you imagine for a moment that she's going to sacrifice these +luxuries for any great length of time?" + +"I intend to give them to her," replied Madison promptly. + +"On thirty dollars a week?" + +"I propose to go out and make a lot of money." + +"How?" + +"I haven't decided yet, but you can bet your sweet life that if I ever +try and make up my mind that it's got to be, it's got to be." + +Brockton looked skeptical. + +"Never have made it, have you?" he said. + +"I have never tried," replied Madison doggedly. + +"Then how do you know you can?" + +"I'm honest and energetic, that's how I know!" retorted the journalist. +With a sneer he added: "If you can get great wealth the way you go +along, I don't see why I can't earn a little." + +Puffing vigorously at his expensive perfecto, Brockton strode leisurely +up and down the terrace. He spoke calmly and dispassionately, as if he +personally were not in the least concerned with the subject under +discussion. From his manner one might take him for an elderly brother +advising a junior of life's many pitfalls. + +"That's where you make a mistake," he said coolly. "Money doesn't +always come with brilliancy. I know a lot of fellows in New York who +can paint a fine picture, write a good play, and when it comes to +oratory they've got me lashed to a pole. But, somehow, they never make +money. They're always in debt. They never get anything for what they +do. In other words, young man, they are like a sky rocket without a +stick--plenty of brilliancy, but no direction. They blow up and fizzle +all over the ground." + +"That's in New York," interrupted Madison scornfully. "I'm in Colorado. +I guess you know there is a difference." + +The broker shrugged his shoulders. + +"I hope you'll make your money," he said carelessly, "because, I tell +you frankly, that's the only way you can hold this girl. She's full of +heroics now, self sacrifice, and all the things that go to make up the +third act of a play, but the minute she comes to darn her stockings, +wash out her own handkerchiefs and dry them on the windows and send out +for a pail of coffee and a sandwich for lunch, take it from me--she'll +change her tune!" Suddenly confronting his rival, he went on: "You're +in Colorado writing her letters once a day with no cheques in them. +That may be all right for some girl who hasn't tasted the joy of easy +living, full of the good things of life, but one who for ten years has +been doing very well in the way these women do, is not going to let up +for any great length of time. So take my advice, if you want to hold +her, get that money quick, and don't be so damned particular how you +get it, either." + +Madison started quickly to his feet, his fists clenched. Savagely he +exclaimed: + +"Of course, you know you've got the best of me----" + +"How?" demanded Brockton coolly. + +"We're guests. I have to control myself." + +"No one's listening," said the broker. + +"'Tisn't that," snapped the other impatiently. "If it was anywhere but +here, if there was any way to avoid all the nasty scandal, I'd come +a-shootin' for you and you know it----" + +"You're a fighter, eh?" sneered Brockton. + +"Perhaps," snapped the journalist. There was a dangerous gleam in his +eye, as he went on: "Let me tell you this. I don't know how you make +your money, but I know what you do with it. You buy yourself a small +circle of sycophants; you pay them well for feeding your vanity, and +then you pose with a certain frank admission of vice and degradation. +And those who aren't quite as brazen as you call it manhood. Manhood?" +he echoed contemptuously. "Why, you don't know what the word means! +Yours is the attitude of a pup and a cur." + +Brockton turned. His lips were compressed, his eyes flashed. Starting +angrily forward he exclaimed: + +"Wait a minute, young man, or I'll----" + +Madison gave one stride towards him, and for a moment both men stood +confronting each other, their fists clenched. Their primal instincts +were aroused. Like wild beasts, full of savage hatred, they were hungry +and ready to fly at each other's throats. + +"You'll what?" demanded Madison, raising his fist. + +"Lose my temper and make a damned fool of myself," retorted the broker +retaining his _sang froid_ only by the greatest effort. With an +attempt at jocularity he went on: "That's something I've not done +for--let me see--why, it must be nearly twenty years--oh, yes--fully +that----" + +He smiled and Madison, disarmed, fell back. In a sulky undertone, the +Westerner grumbled: + +"Possibly it's been about that length of time since you were human, +eh?" + +"Possibly--but you see, Mr. Madison, after all, you're at fault----" + +"Yes?" + +"Yes, the very first thing you did was to lose your temper. Now people +who always lose their temper will never make a lot of money, and you +admit that that is a great necessity--I mean now--to you----" + +Turning on his heel, Madison picked up a newspaper and slammed it down +angrily on a seat. + +"I can't stand for the brutal way you talk!" Leaning on the balustrade +and looking into the dark depths below, he lapsed into a sullen +silence. + +Brockton approached him. + +"But you've got to stand it," he said. "The truth is never gentle. Most +conditions in life are unpleasant, and if you want to meet them +squarely, you have got to realize the unpleasant point of view. That's +the only way you can fight them and win!" + +Madison turned around. The rage was gone out of his eyes, and his voice +had regained its equanimity. Decisively he said: + +"I believe Laura means what she says, in spite of all you say and the +disagreeable logic of it. I think she loves me. If she should ever want +to go back to the old way of getting along, I think she'd tell me so. +So you see, Brockton, all your talk is wasted, and we'll drop the +subject." + +Crossing to the other side of the terrace, he dropped into a chair, and +lit another cigar. Brockton followed him. + +"And if she should ever go back and come to me," said the broker slowly +and impressively, "I am going to insist that she let you know all about +it. It'll be hard enough to lose her, caring for her the way you do, +but it would hurt a lot more to be double crossed----" + +Madison laughed scornfully. + +"That's very kind. Thanks!" + +"Don't get sore," said Brockton. "It's common sense, and it goes, does +it not?" + +"Just what goes?" demanded the journalist, turning sharply. + +Brockton eyed him gravely for a second or two; then he said slowly: + +"If she leaves you first, you are to tell me, and if she comes to me, +I'll make her let you know just when and why----" + +A fierce flame again blazed out from the big fellow's eyes. He half +started from his chair, and he flung his fist out threateningly. + +"Look out!" he cried. + +"I said 'common sense,'" rejoined Brockton quietly. + +"All right," replied his rival, more calmly. + +"Agreed?" demanded the broker. + +"You're on," muttered Madison. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The Rialto, flooded with the warm sunshine of a glorious spring morning, +presented its every-day aspect of leisurely gaiety and business bustle. +The theatrical season was already on the wane; each day Broadway's +pavements in the immediate vicinity of Forty-second Street became more +congested with lean-looking thespians, just in from "the road." The +Rialto--the haven of every disheartened barnstormer, the cradle of +every would-be Hamlet! An important section of the big town's +commercial life, yet a world apart--the world of the theatre, a +shallow, artificial, unreal land, with laws and manners all its own; a +region of lights and tinsel and mock emotions, its people frankly +unmoral and irresponsible as a child, yet ever interesting and not +unlovable; luxury-loving and extravagant, flush to-day, bankrupt +to-morrow; inflated with false pretense and exaggerated self +importance, yet tender-hearted and ingenuous to a fault, and not +without their sphere of usefulness--theirs the mission "to hold, as +'twere, the mirror up to Nature," and in tragedy and comedy, move +mankind to tears and laughter, while upholding the best traditions of a +noble art. + +Sweeping northwards from Herald Square as far as Forty-seventh Street, +the Rialto, on this particular morning, did full credit to the famous +public mart in Venice, from which it took its picturesque name. Here in +the heart of theatredom was the players' curb market, the theatrical +rendezvous of the metropolis, where the mummer comes both to talk shop +with his fellow actor, and seek a new engagement. On every side +luxurious theatres reared their stately facades, box-offices open for +business invited all to enter, obstreperous ticket speculators jostled +passersby in their eagerness to sell their seats. Street hoardings, ash +barrels and sandwich men were plastered with flamboyant multi-colored +show bills. The play, and nothing but the play was certainly the thing; +the hapless stranger was buffetted in a maelstrom of theatrical +activity. The very air reeked of calcium and grease paint. + +The sidewalks were crowded with actors of all ages, some smartly +dressed, others seedy-looking and down at heel. They stood chatting +idly in little groups, thronged the doors of managers' offices and +dramatic agencies, promenaded up and down with self-conscious strut. If +some were seedy, all looked sanguine and happy. Actors and actresses +both, they laughed and joked and patted one another on the back, as +they strove to outdo each other in narrating wonderful experiences on +the road. Right and left one heard the younger players exclaim +exuberantly: "Great notices!--made the hit of my life!--am to be +starred next season!--manager crazy for me to sign!" The bystanders, +older than the speakers, listened politely and nodded approvingly, but +did not seem otherwise impressed. Old-timers these, they knew too well +the symptoms of the novice. Every beginner had these illusions, like +the measles; then, as one got older in the "perfesh" one became immune. +Had they not had many such attacks themselves? They had dreamed of +playing Brutus, Macbeth and Romeo before crowded houses, and having +their names spelled out in blazing electric letters over the entrance +of Broadway theatres, yet here they were to-day, just where they stood +twenty years before, playing general utility at forty dollars a week, +and only thirty-six weeks in the year! Need one wonder that their eyes +were tired and their faces lined? Their clothes were shabby, all +ambition had been ruthlessly crushed out of them, but no matter. They +still stood sunning themselves on the Rialto, listening good naturedly +to the youngsters' prattle. Now and then grim tragedy could be detected +stalking behind comedy's mask. Haggard faces and shabby clothes spoke +eloquently of poverty's pinch. A long summer ahead and nothing saved. +Well--what of it? That was nothing unusual. If times were hard and +engagements few, that was the price the mummer must pay. Why did he go +into the rotten business? By this time he painfully realized that all +cannot be stars, to own automobiles and fine country houses and have +the managers and the public worshipping at their feet. Some must be +content to belong to the humble rank and file, and these were the kind +that haunted Broadway. + +Two loungers, one a young actor, the other a man considerably his +senior, stood talking at the corner of Forty-second Street, opposite +the entrance to the Empire Theatre. The younger man was pale and sickly +looking, and his long hair, classic features, and general seedy +appearance stamped him as a "legit," or a player whose theatrical +activities had been confined to Shakespearian and the classic dramas. + +Why actors who specialize in the legitimate should be invariably +careless in their personal appearance has yet to be explained. Their +fellow-artists, who play in modern comedy, usually appear on the street +trig and well groomed. Their clothes, cut in the latest fashion, and +the way they wear them, constitute valuable factors in their success. +But the Benvolios, the Mercutios and Horatios and other heroes of the +romantic and standard dramas, are, in private life, a queer and +sad-looking lot. Their excuse may be that for the historical dramas the +manager furnishes the costumes, whereas for the modern play the player +has to provide his own. + +This particular actor wore a faded Fedora hat, his trousers were baggy +at the knee, and he tapped impatiently on the pavement with a cheap +little cane. His attitude was one of general discouragement, which was +not surprising, seeing that after playing Shakespeare in the one-night +stands all season, he found himself stranded on Broadway without a +cent. While he confided his troubles to his old friend, Jim Weston, he +cast envious glances at other fellow actors, more fortunate than he, +who were entering a red-curtained chop house close by. As his olfactory +organ caught the delicious odors of grilling steaks and juicy roasts, +he winced. That morning he had breakfasted but meagerly, and when again +the hunger pangs seized him there would be no chop house for him. He +must slink into the little dairy round the corner and lining-up at the +lunch counter, together with a dozen other thespians in like straits, +shamefacedly order a glass of milk and piece of pie. + +"Do you think it's any merrier for me?" exclaimed Weston, after he had +listened to the other's hard-luck story. "Why, man alive, I'm ready to +give up. I've tramped Broadway for nine weeks, until every flagstone +gives me the laugh when it sees my feet coming. It's something fierce!" + +Jim Weston was only one of the many hundred human derelicts cast away +on the theatrical strand. An advance agent of the old school, he found +himself at the age of fifty outdistanced by younger and more active +men. In the three decades of his life, which he had devoted to the +service of the stage, he had seen the gradual evolution of the +theatrical business. The old-time circus and minstrel men had been +pushed aside and younger men, more up-to-date in their methods, had +taken their place. Jim realized that he was a back number, but he hung +on just the same. He was too old now to begin learning a new trade. He +had given all the energy of his youth to the service of the theatre and +now he was older and not so active the theatre had gone back on him. +Often he had thought of ending it all, there and then, but that he +mused, was the coward's way. There was the "missis" and the "kids." He +wasn't going to desert them. So day after day, he kept on tramping +Broadway, haunting the agencies, in the hope of something turning up. + +His companion, absorbed in his own gloomy reflections, tapped the +pavement nervously with his cane, and Weston continued: + +"Got a letter from the missis this morning. The kids got to have more +clothes, there's measles in the town and mumps in the next village. +I've just got to raise some money, or git some work, or the first thing +you'll know, I'll be hanging around Central Park on a dark night with a +club." + +"Hello, Jim!" hailed a feminine voice in greeting. + +The two men quickly looked up. An attractive, stylishly dressed young +woman had halted. A smile of recognition lit up the agent's wan face, +and starting forward, he shook warmly the proffered hand. The actor, +touching his hat, turned to go. To Weston, he said: + +"If you hear of anything in my line, bear me in mind, old man." + +"I will, Ned, never fear. Good-bye and good luck." + +The actor strolled on and the agent turned to his feminine +acquaintance: + +"Why, Elfie St. Clair!" he exclaimed, "I haven't seen you for an age." + +It was Elfie St. Clair, bearing, as usual, all the outward signs of +prosperity. Like most women of her class, she always over-dressed. From +her picture hat and jeweled neck, to her silk stockings and dainty +patent leather slippers, she had them all on, and more than one +passerby turned to stare. Extravagant clothes which, on Fifth Avenue +would be taken as a matter of course, caused a mild sensation among the +general dullness of the busy Rialto. But Elfie ignored the attention +she attracted, and went on chatting, unconcerned. What did she care if +people guessed how she made the money to dress as she did? She was too +old at the business for that, too hardened, yet with all her +effrontery, she had at least one redeeming virtue. In her days of +prosperity she was never too proud to greet or help old friends. She +had met Jim Weston years ago. He was press agent for the first company +she joined, and she had not forgotten trifling little services he had +rendered her at that precarious time. With a glance at his shabby +clothes, she asked: + +"What are you doing now?" + +"Same as usual--nothing!" he answered dryly. + +"Down on your luck, eh?" she said sympathetically. + +"Never had any luck," he grumbled. + +"Been out long?" + +"Only six weeks the whole season. Show busted. I'm on my uppers for +fair this time--eligible for the down-and-out club. No prospects, +either." + +The girl made a motion with her pocketbook. Kindly she said: + +"Say, Jim--let me loan you a ten spot--we're old pals, you and I----" + +He shook his head determinedly. Almost savagely, he exclaimed: + +"No, I'll be d----d if I do! The river before that. Thank God, I still +have my self respect left!" Quickly changing the topic, he went on: "I +met an old friend of yours the other day." + +"Who?" + +"Laura Murdock." + +The girl started. + +"Laura!" she exclaimed. "Why, I haven't seen her for months--only once +since she went to Denver and fell in love with a newspaper man. Wasn't +that perfectly crazy? I was always afraid she would do something of the +sort. There is a sentimental streak in her, you know. I did all I could +to dissuade her, but it was no use. She had made up her mind to be +good, and that was the end of it. Such a pity! She was getting on so +fine. You know, of course, that she has cut out Brockton, and the rest +of the crowd. I've quite lost sight of her. Where did you see her?" + +The agent's thin lips then tightened into a grim smile. + +"You'd hardly know her now," he said. + +The girl looked inquiringly at him. + +"Not know her--why?" + +Hesitatingly he went on: + +"Wal--you know how it is when things don't seem to go just right. Laura +never was over strong with the managers unless she had a good pull, and +now she's shifting for herself, they've gone back on her. She got a +fairly good part at the beginning of the season, but she didn't make +good. The critics hit her pretty hard, and the manager gave her two +weeks' notice. Since then she's been playing such parts as she can get, +but I guess she ain't averaged fifteen dollars a week the whole blessed +winter." + +"Where is she now?" + +"At Mrs. Farley's. She has a small room there. I think she pays four +dollars a week--when she pays it. You know Mrs. Farley's. I'm stopping +there, too. It ain't exactly swell, but it's better than the park, +especially on cold nights." + +Elfie turned pale under her cosmetics. Too well she knew the horrors of +poverty. She was shocked to hear that one of her own sisterhood should +be reduced to such straits as these. The lightning had struck +uncomfortably near home. Besides she had always been fond of Laura. +Yes, she knew Mrs. Farley's, a shrewish Irishwoman, who kept a cheap +theatrical boarding house in Forty ----th Street. Ten years ago, in the +days when she was a stage beginner, struggling to make both ends meet, +she had lived there and as she looked back on those days of self denial +and humiliation she shuddered. + +"I'm awfully sorry," she said, her voice trembling from unaffected +emotion. "Tell Laura you met me and say I had no idea of it. Tell her +I'll come and see her the very first opportunity. Goodbye." + +A smile and a nod, and she disappeared, swallowed up in the vortex of +humanity that swirls in eddies along the Great White Way. The agent +stood looking after her. With a sagacious shake of his head, he +murmured to himself: + +"I don't know but that she's the wise one, after all. What's the good +of being decent? The world respects the man who can wear fine duds. +Nobody asks how he got 'em. One's a fool to care. Every one for himself +and let the devil take the hindmost." + +Having thus unburdened himself of this philosophical reflection, Jim +Weston proceeded on his way. Continuing north up Broadway as far as +Forty-third Street, he crossed Long Acre Square and stopping in front +of a dilapidated-looking brown-stone house, climbed wearily up the +steep stoop. The house was one of the few old-fashioned private +residences still left standing in the business section of the city. +Some forty or more years ago, when Long Acre was practically a suburb +of New York, this particular house was the home of a proud +Knickerbocker family. Its rooms and halls and staircases rang with the +laughter of richly-attired men and women--the society of New York in +ante-bellum days. But in the modern relentless march uptown of +commercialism, all that remained of its one-time glory had been swept +away. The house fell into decay and ruin, and while waiting for it to +be pulled down entirely, to make room for an up-to-date skyscraper, the +present owners had rented it just to pay the taxes. And a queer +collection of tenants they had secured. A quick-lunch-counter man +occupied the basement: a theatrical costumer had the front parlor, with +armor and wigs, and other bizarre exhibits in the window. Up one fight +of stairs was a private detective bureau, while on the next flight was +a theatrical agency, presided over by a Mr. Quiller--foxy Quiller, his +clients nicknamed him, where actors and actresses out of employment, +might or might not, hear of things to their advantage. + +There was no elevator and the stairs were dark and fatiguing to climb. +By the time he had reached the top, Jim Weston was out of breath. +Halting a moment to get his wind, he then continued along a hall until +he came to an office, the door of which was opened. He entered. + +In a large gloomy-looking room, scantily lighted by two windows, which +looked as if they had not been washed for months, a score of men and +women were sitting in solemn silence, on as many rickety chairs. That +they were professionals "out of engagement" was evident at a glance. +The women wore smart frocks, and the men were clean shaven, but there +was an obsequious deference in their manner and a worried, expectant +expression on their faces that one sees only in dependents anxious to +please. In the far corner, near the window, was Mr. Quiller's private +office, on the frosted glass door of which was the word "Private." +Above the door, and all about the room were large cards bearing such +friendly greetings as: "MY TIME'S WORTH MONEY! DON'T WASTE IT." "THIS +IS MY BUSY DAY; BE BRIEF." "DON'T COME TILL I SEND FOR YOU--THIS MEANS +YOU!" The other decorations consisted of a number of theatrical +photographs tacked here and there on the walls and a few old playbills. +At a desk near the entrance, a slovenly office boy sat reading a dime +novel. + +He looked up as Jim entered and nodded with familiar insolence. The +advance man was no stranger there. Each day for months past, he had +climbed those dingy stairs, only to get the same discouraging answer: +"Nothing doing." Yet he had persevered. He never let a day go by +without dropping in at least once. There was always the chance of +something turning up. Approaching the desk he inquired: + +"Mr. Quiller in?" + +"Busy!" growled the boy. With a gesture of his hand toward the others +already waiting, he said insolently: "All them people is here before +you." + +Actors and actresses, when they are recognized as human beings at all, +are only "people" in managerial offices. The ordinary courtesies of +life do not extend to the humble player. The star, the public favorite, +is courted and fawned upon by the cringing theatre director, but the +rank and file of the profession are just "people". If the office boy +was rude, he merely reflected the scornful attitude of his superiors. + +Weston quickly took a seat and waited. The others were strangers to +him. Their faces were familiar from seeing them frequently in the same +place, and he guessed that they had come on the same mission as +himself. Secretly, he felt sorry for them, especially for the women, +some of whom were young and pretty. They looked thin, careworn and sad. +Ah, who knew better than he, how hard and disappointing a career it +was! They were only beginners and already they were bitterly +disillusioned, while he had gone through it all and come out--a wreck! + +The silence was awkward and oppressive. Through the closed door of the +private office was heard a man's harsh voice; then a woman's softer +tones in reply. One of those waiting whispered to a neighbor and then +some one laughed, which relieved the unnatural tension. All forced +themselves to appear cheerful and unconcerned, each secretly ashamed to +be there, humiliated at being subjected to the same treatment as +menials in this Intelligence office of the stage. + +Two women were talking in an undertone and Weston, sitting close by, +could not help hearing what they said. One, an attractive, +modest-looking girl, was almost in tears, complaining bitterly of +indignities to which she had been subjected by a manager. + +"I wouldn't stand for it," she said, "so he gave me two weeks' notice, +on the pretext that the author didn't like me in the part. He knew he +was lying--my notices were fine! Such a time as I had with him! I made +a hit on the opening night. He came back on the stage and invited me to +supper. As he talked of signing with me for five years, I didn't dare +refuse. At supper he let me understand what the price would be. I +instantly rose from the table and told him I wasn't that kind of a +girl. Then he got mad. He told me to think well before I made the +mistake of my life. He said no girls got along on the stage unless they +consented to these conditions, and that if I refused I would be +blacklisted by every manager in town. I didn't even deign to answer. I +called a cab and left him. The following day I got my walking papers. I +did not care so much about leaving the company. Under the circumstances +I couldn't have stayed and retained my self respect. I laughed at his +threat, but I've since found it was no idle one. I've been turned down +everywhere." + +Her companion, an older woman, more sophisticated and more worldly, +shook her head sympathetically: + +"Nonsense, child, that's only a coincidence. It's preposterous to +imagine for a moment that reputable managers would lend themselves to +anything of the kind. You happened to come across a scoundrel--that's +all. Broadway's full of such human vultures--more's the pity--and +they're giving the stage a bad name. But a woman doesn't have to be bad +unless she wants to be. Maybe advancement is quicker by the easiest +way, but the good girls get there just the same, if they've talent. +Look at the women who have succeeded on the stage and whose name not a +breath of scandal has ever touched. Take, for instance, Maude----" + +Before she could complete the name, the door of Mr. Quiller's sanctum +opened, and a young woman emerged, followed to the threshold by the +dramatic agent, a jaundiced little man, with ferret-like eyes, and a +greasy frock coat. + +"Next!" he exclaimed in a rasping voice. + +"Miss Durant!" called out the office boy. + +The woman whose warm championship of the stage had been so abruptly +interrupted, rose with alacrity and disappeared behind Mr. Quiller's +closed door, while the young actress whose interview was ended made her +way to the main entrance. Her face was veiled and she walked quickly, +looking to neither left nor right, her eyes fixed on the floor, as if +anxious to avoid observation. As she passed Weston, he happened to look +up. + +"Hello, Laura!" he exclaimed, as he recognized her. "So it was you in +there with old skinflint all that time." + +It was Laura Murdock, but what a startling change a few months had +wrought! Who could have recognized in this pale, attenuated-looking +young person, whose old-fashioned clothes, and out-of-style hat, +suggested poverty's grim clutch, the famous beauty, whose jewelry and +gowns used to be the envy of every woman in New York? Where the pace is +so swift, those who do not keep up with the procession soon drop far +behind. The girl had had a hard time of it since she bade John Madison +good-bye in Colorado. He had resigned his newspaper position and had +gone with a companion to search for gold. He travelled East with her as +far as Chicago, where they said farewell. + +"You'll be true, little one," he cried, as he clasped her in his strong +arms. + +"Until death, John!" she said through her tears. + +They promised to write at least once a week and tell each other +everything. The time would soon pass, and when he came back they would +get married. And so they parted, he to Nevada; she back to New York, +once more to take up her work--not her old life. + +Faithful to her solemn promise, she gave up her fine apartment, and +took less expensive rooms. She dressed more modestly, eschewed +taxicabs, after-theatre suppers, and other unnecessary luxuries and +shunned her old associates. Little champagne suppers, and the small +hours, knew her no more. She was sincere in her determination to break +off with that kind of life forever. Henceforth she would live within +such income as she could legitimately earn on the stage. + +But she soon found that it was more difficult than she supposed. +Managers' offices did not seem so easy of access as before. The success +of her stock engagement at Denver had not impressed the New York +managers so favorably as she expected it would. When she called and +stated she was at liberty, they were evasive and non-committal; the +next time she called they were out. It was the same everywhere. No one +seemed to want her at any price. She did not realize that at no time +had the stage been clamoring for her services. She saw only that there +was a conspiracy of silence and indifference around her now. + +If she were willing to go on living as before, and use the influence of +such men as Willard Brockton, she could have all the parts she wanted +to play, but that was a price she would pay no longer. The weeks went +by, and no money coming in, it was not long before her slender earnings +were depleted. For a time she managed to keep the wolf from the door by +selling some of her old finery, dainty creations in point lace and +chiffons, which she would never wear again, but when these were gone, +blank destitution stared her in the face. A brief engagement she was +lucky enough to secure after unheard-of exertions, helped matters for a +while, but the show came to grief, and then things were as bad as ever. +Visits to the pawnshop became frequent and soon she was compelled to +give up her rooms and seek still cheaper quarters. But in all her +troubles, she never lost courage. Sleeping and waking, the searching, +questioning eyes of John Madison were continually before her. At all +times she could hear him saying: "You'll be true, little one!" And it +strengthened her resolve to battle bravely on, until he came to claim +her for his bride. + +"I didn't see you, Jim," said Laura, sinking wearily into a chair near +him. "Well, what luck to-day?" + +He shook his head. + +"Bad--bad. Guess you don't want to hear." + +"I'm sorry," she said. "Where have you been?" + +She listened with sympathetic interest, as he told her of the day's +useless trampings. When he had finished, he looked inquiringly at her. +Abruptly he asked: + +"And you--got anything yet?" + +She shook her head despondently. + +"No, Jim, not yet." + +He made a gesture towards the private office, which she had just +vacated. + +"You were in there such a long time, I made sure there was something +doing." + +Laura shrugged her shoulders impatiently: + +"Quiller sent for me, and I hurried here thinking it was serious. Then +he had the nerve to say he'd guarantee me an engagement, if I could put +up five hundred dollars. I could not help laughing. 'Where would I get +five hundred dollars?' I said. 'You know that better than I,' he +replied. 'Surely you've plenty of admirers who'd be willing to put the +money up for you.' What do you think of his impudence? I felt like +slapping his face." + +The advance man gave a dry chuckle. + +"Up to the old game," he said. "Do you think these people live on the +petty commissions we pay 'em? Not on your life! They gets just such +gals as you to find an angel willing to put up the 'dough'. That's why +there are so many near-actresses on the stage. It isn't talent they +want nowadays, it's money." Changing the subject, he went on: "By the +way, I met an old chum of yours just now. She asked after you----" + +"An old chum?" echoed Laura, puzzled. + +"Yes--Elfie St. Clair." + +The girl's pale face reddened slightly. Involuntarily her manner +stiffened. Indifferently she said: + +"I haven't seen her for months. What did she say?" + +"She seemed to know things weren't quite right with you. She's a bad +lot, that girl, but she has a good heart. She asked where you lived." + +"You didn't tell her, I hope," exclaimed Laura hurriedly. + +"Yes, I did," answered the advance man doggedly. "Why shouldn't I?" + +"I'm sorry," she said. "She's the last woman in the world I want to +see. I never want to see her again. If she calls I won't see her." +Glancing at the clock, she added: "I must be going. What are you doing +here?" + +Weston smiled grimly. + +"Wasting time, I guess. Quiller said there might be something to-day. +He's said the same every day for three months past." + +"Well, I must go," she said. "Good-bye, I'll probably see you at the +house." + +"Yes," he nodded. "Maybe there'll be some good news to tell you, but I +doubt it." + +The girl disappeared and Jim resumed his seat, patiently awaiting his +turn to see Mr. Quiller. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Mrs. Farley's establishment was situated on Forty ----th Street, +between Eighth and Ninth Avenues, a neighborhood at one time much in +vogue, but now given up almost entirely to boarding-houses of the +cheaper kind. Old-fashioned brownstone residences, with high ceilings, +cracked walls, dirty, paper-patched windows, and narrow little gardens +choked up with weeds, they were as unattractive-looking from without as +they were gloomy and destitute of comfort within. Yet poverty-stricken +as were the surroundings, the street itself was respectable enough. As +in the case of a homely woman, its very ugliness served to keep its +morals above reproach. Vice required more alluring quarters than these +for profitable pursuit of its red-light trade. If, therefore, a woman +stood in need of a certificate of character, all that was necessary was +to say that she lived there. + +The back room, which, for nearly six long, weary weeks Laura had +occupied on the second floor was characteristic of the place and the +class of lodgers who lived there. For years the house had been falling +into general decay, with no attempt at repairs. The ceilings were +cracked; the wall-paper was old and spotted, and in places hung down +brazenly in loose flaps. The cheap carpet was worn threadbare, with +here and there large rents, which acted as so many dangerous pitfalls +for the unwary. The furniture, of the cheapest possible description, +comprised a large, old-fashioned wardrobe, for the most part full of +rubbish, a dresser scattered with a few cheap toilet articles, a +broken-down washstand and a three-quarter old wooden bed, which, placed +against the wall right in the center of the room, monopolized most of +the little space there was. At the foot of the bed, a small table, +covered with a soiled and ink-stained cloth, was heaped with newspapers +and magazines; on the right, facing the door, leading to the hall +outside, an old-style mantelpiece surmounted a rusty fireplace. A +single arm gas jet served for illuminating purposes, and in a little +alcove stood a table with a small gas stove connected by rubber tubing +with a gas fixture. There were two windows in the room, opening outward +in the French manner on to a dilapidated balcony which overlooked the +street below. + +This was the wretched place for which Laura had given up all her former +ease and magnificence--her $8,000 apartment, her crystal bathtub, her +French maid, her automobile, and every other conceivable luxury. The +descent from affluence to actual want had been gradual, but none the +less swift and sure. It had cost her many a bitter pang, many an hour +of keen humiliation, but she had made the sacrifice willingly, +cheerfully, feeling in her heart that he would wish it and commend her +for it. In all her troubles, John was never for a moment out of her +thoughts. Everywhere about the room were reminders of the man who any +day might return to claim her for his wife. On the dresser stood a +small photograph of him in a cheap frame; tacked over the head of the +bed was a larger portrait. A small bow of dainty blue ribbon at the top +covered the tack, and underneath was a bunch of violets, now withered, +but a silent and touching tribute to the absent one. + +The room showed every evidence of being occupied, and at a glance it +was easy to guess the vocation and also the sex of the tenant. In the +wardrobe hung a few old dresses, most of them a good deal worn and +shabby, while in an open drawer at the bottom could be seen several old +pairs of women's shoes. On an armchair was thrown a cheap kimona. The +dresser, in keeping with the general meanness, was adorned with +pictorial postcards stuck in between the mirror and the frame, and on +it were all the accessories necessary to the actress--powder box and +puff, a rouge box and a rabbit's paw, a hand mirror, a small alcohol +curling-iron heater, and a bottle of cheap perfume, purple in color, +and nearly empty. On the mantelpiece were arranged photographs of +actors and actresses and pieces of cheap bric-a-brac. Conspicuous in a +corner was a huge theatrical trunk, plastered with the labels of hotels +and theatres. Had the lid been raised, a caller might have seen in the +tray, among the remnants of a once elaborate wardrobe, one little token +that told at once the whole miserable story--a bundle of pawntickets! + +Another week had gone by, and Laura's situation, instead of improving, +grew steadily more precarious. An engagement seemed farther away than +ever; it was impossible to secure one of any kind. One disappointment +followed another. Either the companies were all full, or the part +offered was not in her line. Managers consciencelessly broke their +promises; Mr. Quiller and the other dramatic agents were blandly +indifferent. Meantime no money was coming in, and the girl was +completely at the end of her resources. Her clothes were now little +better than rags; very soon she would not be able to go out at all, let +alone make the round of the managers' offices. She owed three weeks +rent to her landlady, a matter-of-fact, hard-as-nails type of woman, +who was not to be put off much longer with mere promises. Unless she +could settle soon, Mrs. Farley would tell her to get out, and then +where could she go? + +Perhaps for the first time in her life Laura realized now how utterly +alone she was in the world. Never had it seemed to her so big, so +indifferent, so heartless. Her parents were dead, and as far as she +knew she had no relatives. Friends--so-called friends--were at best +only fair weather acquaintances. There was not one from whom she would +accept assistance. One man would help her, a man to whose generosity +she could appeal with the certainty of instant response--Willard +Brockton. But she would die sooner. She would not confess defeat. The +one being who really cared for her and to whom she could properly +appeal was thousands of miles away, in complete ignorance of her +plight. She could telegraph him for money, but he might not understand, +and she was too proud to lay her actions open to misconstruction. No, +she must have patience and wait. If she had to go out scrubbing she +would hold out until John Madison came back for her. But it was a +bitter experience for a girl who had grown accustomed to every luxury, +and, at times, her fortitude and patience were tried to the utmost. The +constant humiliation, to say nothing of the mental and physical +suffering, was sometimes more than she could bear, and there were many +nights when she sobbed herself to sleep. Even her good looks suffered. +Constant anxiety made her thin; sleepless nights drove the color from +her cheeks and put dark circles round her eyes. She did not have even +enough to eat. Forced to economize, she went without regular meals, +satisfying her hunger cravings with what little she could cook herself +in her own comfortless room. + +But in these dark hours, there was one ray of light, and that was her +serene faith in her absent lover. She was convinced now that her +attachment for the journalist was no passing fancy, no mere caprice of +the moment. For the first time in her life, she felt the uplifting, +exalted emotion of a pure love, and it seemed to burn in her bosom like +a cleansing touch, wiping out the stain in her past. With all her +experiences, tragic and otherwise, Laura Murdock had found nothing +equal to this sudden, swiftly increasing love for the young Westerner. + +That he would come back for her sooner or later, she never for a moment +doubted. Of his perfect loyalty, she was convinced. He was her one +thought, night and day, and there was no keener pleasure in this, her +new life, than in maintaining their constant correspondence. Not a day +passed that did not carry a letter Westwards; each morning the postman +brought a letter from Madison, full of what he was doing, setting +enthusiastically forth his plans for the future. These letters, which +were her most treasured possessions, she kept in a big, cardboard box +under the bed. By actual count, there were 125 letters and 80 +telegrams, tied in eight separate bundles with dainty blue ribbon. On +days when she was particularly depressed and discouraged, she felt +comforted if she could drag out the letter-box and reread the messages +from the loved one. + +This is what she was doing one afternoon about a week after her +fruitless visit to Mr. Quiller's office. The weather being stormy, she +could not go out, so, after lunching abundantly on a glass of milk and +a few dry crackers, she once more dragged the box from under the bed. +Selecting a bundle of letters, she climbed on the bed, and, squatting +down, her feet crossed in Oriental fashion, proceeded to enjoy them. +Every now and then she would glance up from the sheet of closely +written paper, and take a long, loving look at the large portrait of +her sweetheart over the bed. + +While thus busily engaged, there suddenly came a knock at the door. +Quickly Laura jumped from the bed, replaced the letters in the box, +which she slid back in its place, and called out: + +"Come in." + +Cautiously the door was opened a few inches, and a chocolate-colored +negress put her head in. Seeing that Laura was alone, she pushed the +door open wider and came in, letter in hand. + +"Hello, Annie!" said Laura amiably. + +"Heah's yo' mail, Miss Laura," said the slavey, with a significant +leer. + +"Thank you," said the young actress, taking the proffered missive. + +She merely glanced at the familiar, beloved superscription, making no +attempt to open the envelope in the presence of the maid. But Annie, +the slovenly type of negress one encounters in cheap theatrical +boarding-houses, showed no disposition to withdraw. Like most servants, +she was inquisitive, and never neglected an opportunity to spy and +gossip, considering it a part of her duties to learn everything +possible of the private affairs of the lodgers. Quite unlike the +traditional, smiling, good-natured "mammy" of the South, she was one of +those cunning, crafty, heartless, surly Northern negresses, who, to the +number of thousands, seek employment as maids with women of easy +morals, and, infesting a certain district of New York where white and +black people of the lower classes mingle indiscriminately, make it one +of the most criminal and dangerous sections of the city. Innately and +brutally selfish, such women prey on those they profess to serve, and +are honest and faithful only so long as it serves their purpose. + +Annie kept one eye on the letter, while she pretended to tidy things +about the room. Presently she said: + +"One like dat comes every mornin', don't it? Used to all be postmahked +Denver. Must 'a' moved." + +As she spoke, she tried to get a glimpse of the letter over Laura's +shoulder, but as the actress turned, she quickly looked away, and +added: + +"Where is dat place called Goldfield, Miss Laura?" + +"In Nevada." + +"In _Nevada_?" echoed the woman, laying comical stress on the +pronunciation. + +"Yes--Nevada. What's strange about that?" + +Annie drew her jacket closer around her, as if she were chilly. Shaking +her head, she said: + +"Must be mighty smaht to write yuh every day. De pos'man brings it +'leven o'clock mos' always, sometimes twelve, and again sometimes tehn. +Today he was late. But it comes, every day, don't it?" + +"I know," said Laura, with a faint smile. + +She disliked the negress, but reasons of policy prompted her always to +appear cordial. Annie began brushing the armchair vigorously, and, as +she worked, tried once more to see the postmark on the letter. Finally +she said: + +"Guess mus' be from yo' husban', ain't it?" + +Laura shook her head. + +"No, I haven't any." + +The negress whisked her feather duster triumphantly. + +"Dat's what Ah tole Mis' Farley when she was down talkin' about yo' dis +mornin'. She said if he was yo' husban' he might do somethin' to help +yo' out. Ah tole her Ah didn't think yo' had any husban'. Den she says +yo' ought to have one, yo're so pretty." + +Laura laughed. + +"Don't be so foolish, Annie." + +Noticing that she had left the room door ajar, the negress went and +banged it shut. Then, proceeding to hang a clean towel on the +washstand, she continued gossiping: + +"Der ain't a decent door in dis old house. Mis' Farley said yo' might +have mos' any man yo' wanted just for de askin', but Ah said yuh was +too particular about the man yo'd want. Den she did a heap o' talkin'." + +"About what?" demanded Laura quickly. + +She was amused as well as annoyed at the woman's impudence, but it was +just as well to know what was being said about her downstairs. +Pretending, therefore, to be interested, and curbing her impatience, +she placed the still unopened letter on the table, and, going to her +trunk, took from it a thimble and thread. Closing down the lid again, +she sat on the trunk and began to sew a rip in her skirt. Annie, +meantime, had begun to fuss at making the bed. + +[Illustration: SHE BEGAN TO SEW A RIP IN HER SKIRT. + _Page 162._] + +"Well, yo' know," went on the maid, "Mis' Farley she's been havin' so +much trouble wid her roomers. Yestuhday dat young lady on de second +flo' front, she lef. She's gwine wid some troupe on the road. She owed +her room for three weeks, and jus' had to leave her trunk. My! how Mis' +Farley did scold her. Mis' Farley let on she could have paid dat money +if she wanted to, but, somehow, Ah guess she couldn't----" + +She was carrying the pillows round the table, when suddenly she stopped +talking and stooped to inspect the letter, which was still lying there. +Laura happened to look up. Indignantly, she exclaimed: + +"Annie!" + +The negress looked confused, but was not otherwise abashed. Going on +with her work, she continued coolly: + +"--For if she could, she wouldn't have left her trunk, would she, Miss +Laura?" + +"No, I suppose not," replied the actress guardedly. After a pause, she +asked: "What did Mrs. Farley say about me?" + +The negress picked up the kimona from the chair and carried it to the +wardrobe. With some hesitation, she said: + +"Oh, nothin' much." + +She needed encouragement, and Laura gave it to her. + +"Well, what?" + +Thus coaxed, Annie went on: + +"She kinder say somethin' 'bout yo' bein' three weeks behind in yo' +room rent, an' she said she t'ought it was 'bout time yuh handed her +somethin', seem' as how yuh must o' had some stylish friends when yuh +come here." + +"Who, for instance?" + +"Ah don't know. Mis' Farley said some of 'em might slip yo' enough jest +to help yuh out." Stopping in her work, she looked curiously at the +actress. "Ain't yo' got nobody to take care of yo' at all, Miss Laura?" + +Laura shook her head despondently. Sadly, she replied: + +"No! No one." + +"Dat's too bad." + +"Why?" + +The negress grinned. Significantly, she said: + +"Mis' Farley says yuh wouldn't have no trouble at all gettin' any man +to take care of yuh if yuh wanted to." + +Laura averted her head. A chill ran through her. Only too well she knew +what the girl meant. She wished she would stop gossiping and go. With +some display of irritation, she said: + +"Don't talk that way, Annie--please." + +But the negress was not to be put off so easily. In her coarse, brutal +way, she felt sorry for the pretty young lady, and aware that in some +quarters good looks are negotiable, she felt chagrined that such +valuable assets should not be realized upon. Playing nervously with a +corner of the table-cloth, she continued: + +"Dere's a gemman dat calls on one of de ladies from de Circus, in de +big front room downstairs. He's mighty nice, and he's been askin' 'bout +yo'." + +"Oh, shut up!" cried Laura, thoroughly exasperated. + +The doors of the wardrobe, being loose on their hinges, kept swinging +open, and the negress several times had impatiently slammed them shut. +Turning to Laura, she went on: + +"Mis' Farley says----" + +The doors came open again, and hit her in the back. This time the maid +lost her temper completely. Giving them a vicious push, she exclaimed: + +"Damn dat door!" + +Then going to the washstand, and grabbing a basin which was half-full +of water, she emptied it into the waste jar. Now thoroughly angry, she +went on sourly: + +"Mis' Farley says if she don't get some one in the house dat has +reg'lar money soon, she'll have to shut up and go to the po'house." + +A look of distress and annoyance crossed Laura's face. It was hard to +hear this from a menial. + +"I'm sorry," she said; "I'll try again to-day." + +Rising from the trunk, she crossed the room, and, taking a desk-pad +from the mantel-piece, returned and took a seat at the table. + +"Ain't yo' got any job at all?" demanded Annie, who was watching her as +closely as she dared. + +"No." + +"When yuh come here yuh had lots of money and yo' was mighty good to +me. You know Mr. Weston?" + +"Jim Weston?" + +"Yassum, Mr. Weston, what goes ahead o' shows and lives on the top +floor back; he says nobody's got jobs now. Dey're so many actors and +actresses out o' work. Mis' Farley says she don't know how she's goin' +to live. She said you'd been mighty nice up until three weeks ago, but +yuh ain't got much left, have you, Miss Laura?" + +The girl shook her head mournfully. + +"No. It's all gone." + +The negress threw up her hands and from sheer excitement sat plump down +on the bed. + +"Mah sakes!" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "All dem rings and +things? You ain't done sold them?" + +"They're pawned," said Laura sadly. "What did Mrs. Farley say she was +going to do?" + +"Guess maybe Ah'd better not tell." + +"Please do." + +"Yuh been so good to me, Miss Laura. Never was nobody in dis house what +give me so much, and Ah ain't been gettin' much lately. And when Mis' +Farley said yuh must either pay yo' rent or she would ask yuh for your +room, Ah jest set right down on de back kitchen stairs and cried. +Besides, Mis' Farley don't like me very well since you've been havin' +yo' breakfasts and dinners brought up here." + +"Why not?" + +Taking the kimona off the chair-back,' Laura went to the dresser, and, +putting the kimona in the drawer, took out her purse, an action not +unobserved by the stealthy African, who at once grew correspondingly +more amiable and communicative. + +"She has a rule in dis house dat nobody can use huh chiny or fo'ks or +spoons who ain't boa'ding heah, and de odder day when yuh asked me to +bring up a knife and fo'k she ketched me coming upstairs, and she says, +'Where yuh goin' wid all dose things, Annie?' Ah said, 'Ah'm just goin' +up to Miss Laura's room with dat knife and fo'k.' Ah said, 'Ah'm goin' +up for nothin' at all, Mis' Farley, she jest wants to look at them, Ah +guess.' She said, 'She wants to eat huh dinner wid 'em, Ah guess.' Ah +got real mad, and Ah told her if she'd give me mah pay Ah'd brush right +out o' here; dat's what Ah'd do, Ah'd brush right out o' here." + +She shook out the towel violently, as if to emphasize her indignation. +Laura could not restrain a smile. + +"I'm sorry, Annie, if I've caused you any trouble. Never mind, I'll be +able to pay the rent to-morrow or next day, anyway." + +Fumbling in her purse, she took out a quarter, and turned to the +servant: + +"Here!" + +"No, ma'am; Ah don' want dat," said Annie, making a show of reluctance. + +"Please take it," insisted Laura. + +"No, ma'am; Ah don' want it. You need dat. Dat's breakfast money for +yuh, Miss Laura." + +"Please take it, Annie. I might just as well get rid of this as anything +else." + +Rather reluctantly, the negress took the money. With a grin, she said: + +"Yuh always was so good, Miss Laura. Sho' yuh don' want dis?" + +"Sure." + +"Sho' yo' goin' to get plenty mo'?" + +"Sure." + +Suddenly a shrill, feminine voice was heard downstairs, calling loudly: + +"Annie! Annie!" + +The negress hastily went to the door and opened it. + +"Dat's Mis' Farley!" she said in an undertone. Answering in the same +key, she shouted: "Yassum, Mis' Farley." + +"Is Miss Murdock up there?" cried the same voice. + +"Yassum, Mis' Farley; yassum!" + +"Anything doin'?" + +"Huh?" + +"Anything doin'?" + +The negress hesitated, and looked at Laura. + +"Ah--Ah--hain't asked, Missy Farley." + +"Then do it," said the voice determinedly. + +Laura advanced to the rescue. + +"I'll answer her," she said. Putting her head out of the door, she +cried: + +"What is it, Mrs. Farley?" + +The irate landlady's voice underwent a quick change. In a softened +voice, she called up: + +"Did ye have any luck this morning, dearie?" + +"No; but I promise you faithfully to help you out this afternoon or +to-morrow." + +"Sure? Are you certain?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Well, I must say these people expect me to keep----" + +There was an exclamation of skeptical impatience, and the door below +slammed with a bang. Laura quietly closed her door, through which Mrs. +Farley's angry mutterings could still be heard indistinctly. Laura +sighed, and, walking to the table, sat down again. Annie looked at her +a moment, and then slowly opened the door. + +"Yo' sho' dere ain't nothin' I can do fo' yuh, Miss Laura?" + +"Nothing," said Laura wearily. + +The negress reluctantly turned to go. Her work now finished, there was +no further excuse for remaining. Slowly she left the room, carrying her +broom and dustpan with her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +Immediately the maid had disappeared, Laura sprang to her feet and +picked up John's letter. It was only with the greatest difficulty that +she had managed to curb her impatience. Eagerly she tore open the +envelope. + +The letter consisted, as usual, of several pages closely written. +Things were pretty much the same, he said. It was a wonderful country, +vast and unconquered, a land where man was constantly at war with the +forces of Nature. Extraordinary finds were being made every day; one +literally picked up gold nuggets by the handful. If he and his partner +were only reasonably lucky, there was no reason why they should not +become enormously rich. He hoped his little girl was happy and +prosperous. He was sure she was true. Each night when he went to sleep +in his tent, he placed two things under his pillow, things that had +become necessary to his salvation--a Colt revolver and her sweet +photograph. He quite understood that it was difficult to secure good +engagements, especially since Brockton's backing was withdrawn, but he +advised her to take heart and accept anything she could get--for the +present. It would not be for long. When he came back, rich beyond the +dreams of avarice, she would not have to worry about theatre managers +any more. + +She read the letter through hurriedly, re-read it, and then, pressing +the missive to her lips, laid it down on the table. + +"Accept anything!" she murmured. "Ah, he does not understand. How +should he? If only there was something to accept!" Rising wearily, she +sighed: "Hope, just nothing but hope." + +Her mouth quivered, and her bosom, agitated by the emotion she was +trying hard to suppress, rose and fell convulsively. He did not +understand. How was it possible for her to wait? She had already waited +until everything was gone--her rings, her watch and chain, even the +clothes on her back. She was absolutely penniless; unless relief came +soon she would be turned into the streets. Oh, why could he not have +guessed the truth from her letters, and come back to her? + +Going to the bed, she fell face down upon it, burying her face in her +hands. A convulsive sobbing shook her entire being. It was too hard to +bear. She had tried to be brave, but her heart was breaking. Ah, if +John only knew! What did she care for riches? If only he would come to +comfort her and give her courage. + +For fifteen minutes she lay there, motionless, a pathetic figure of +utter despondency. The minutes might have lengthened into hours, when +suddenly a hurdy-gurdy in the street below started to play a popular +air. Often the most trivial and commonplace incident will change the +entire current of our thoughts. It was so in this instance. The cheap +music had the effect of instantly galvanizing the young actress into +life. It suddenly occurred to her that she was ravenously hungry. She +rose from the bed, went to the wardrobe and took out a box of crackers. +Then opening the window, at the same time humming the tune of the +hurdy-gurdy, she got a bottle of milk that was standing on the sill +outside and placed it on the table. Next she went to the washstand and +rinsed out a tumbler. While thus engaged, there came a timid knock at +the door. Startled, not knowing who it could be, unwilling that +strangers should detect the traces of tears, she went quickly to the +dresser and powdered her nose. The knocking was repeated. + +"Come in!" she called out, without turning round. + +The door opened and Jim Weston appeared. He halted on the threshold, +holding the knob in his hand. + +"May I come in?" + +"Hello, Jim! Of course you may. I'm awfully glad you came. I was +feeling horribly blue. Any luck?" + +The advance agent came in, closing the door carefully behind him. + +"Lots of it," he grinned. + +"That's good," exclaimed Laura, who was still at the mirror arranging +her hair. "Tell me." + +"It's bad luck--as usual. I kind o' felt around up at Burgess's office. +I thought I might get a job there, but he put me off until to-morrow. +Somehow those fellows always do business to-morrow." + +Laura closed the window, shutting out the sound of the street music, +which now could be heard only faintly. Grimly, she said: + +"Yes, and there's always to-day to look after." Going up to him, she +said kindly: "I know just how you feel. Sit down, Jim." + +He took a seat near the table, and accepted a dry cracker which she +offered him. As he munched it, Laura went on: + +"It's pretty tough for me, but it must be a whole lot worse for you, +with a wife and kids." + +The agent made a wry face. + +"Oh, if a man's alone he can generally get along--turn his hand to +anything. But a woman----" + +"Worse, you think?" + +He eyed her a moment without replying. Then he said: + +"I was just thinking about you and what Burgess said." + +"What was that?" asked the girl indifferently, as she sipped her milk. + +The agent cleared his throat. With an air of some importance, he said: + +"You know Burgess and I used to be in the circus business together. He +took care of the grafters when I was boss canvas man. I never could see +any good in shaking down the rubes for all the money they had and then +taking part of it. He used to run the privilege car, you know." + +Laura looked puzzled. + +"Privilege car?" she echoed. + +"Yes," he went on, "had charge of all the pick-pockets--dips we called +'em--sure-thing gamblers and the like. Made him rich. I kept sort o' on +the level and I'm broke. Guess it don't pay to be honest----" + +Laura gave him a quick look. In a significant tone of voice, she said: + +"You don't really think that?" + +The man shook his head dubiously. + +"No, maybe not. Ever since I married the missis and the first kid come +we figured the only good money was the kind folks worked for and +earned. But when you can't get hold of that, it's tough." + +The girl nodded, and, averting her head, looked out of the window. + +"I know," she said simply. + +The agent was in a loquacious mood this afternoon, and needed little +encouragement to do all the talking. He went on: + +"Burgess don't seem to be losing sleep over the tricks he turned. He's +happy and prosperous, but I guess he ain't any better now than he ought +to be." + +"I guess he isn't," rejoined Laura quickly. "I know I've been trying to +induce him to give me an engagement, but for some reason I get no +satisfaction. There are half a dozen parts in his new attractions that +I could do. He has never said absolutely 'no'; but, somehow, he's never +said 'yes'." + +"That's odd," said her visitor, scratching his head, as if puzzled. "He +spoke about you to-day." + +"In what way?" demanded the girl. + +"I gave him my address, and he saw it was yours, too. He asked if I +lived in the same place." + +"Was that all?" + +"He wanted to know how you was getting on. I let him know you needed +work, but I didn't tip my hand you was flat broke. He said something +about you being a damned fool." + +Laura looked up in surprise. + +"How?" she demanded. + +Weston twirled his hat round nervously, and remained silent. + +"How?" she demanded again. + +Thus encouraged, he proceeded: + +"Well, Johnny Ensworth--you know he used to do the fights on the +_Evening Screamer_; now he's press agent for Burgess; nice fellow and +way on the inside--and he told me where you were in wrong." + +"What have I done?" she asked, taking a seat in the armchair. + +"Burgess don't put up the money for any of them musical comedies--he +just trails. Of course, he's got a lot of influence, and he's always +Johnny-on-the-Spot to turn any dirty trick that they want. There are +four or five rich men in town who are there with the bank-roll, +providing he engages women who ain't so very particular about the +location of their residence, and who don't hear a curfew ring at +eleven-thirty every night." + +"And he thinks I am too particular?" interrupted Laura dryly. + +"That's what was slipped me. Seems that one of the richest men who is +in on Mr. Burgess's address book is that fellow Brockton. You're an old +friend of his. He's got more money than he knows what to do with. He +likes to play show business. And he thought that if you----" + +Rising quickly, the girl went to the wardrobe, and, taking out her hat, +picked up a pair of scissors, and proceeded to curl the feathers. The +hat was already in so deplorable a condition that this belated home +treatment was not likely to help it, but the diversion served its +purpose, which was to distract the agent's attention away from her +face. + +"I didn't mean no offence," said Jim apologetically. "I thought it was +just as well to tell you where he and Burgess stand. They're pals." + +Laura jumped up, and, putting the hat and scissors down on the bed, +went close up to her visitor. Confronting him, she said with angry +emphasis: + +"I don't want you to talk about him or any of them. I just want you to +know that I'm trying to do everything in my power to go through this +season without any more trouble. I've pawned everything I've got; I've +cut every friend I knew. But where am I going to end? That's what I +want to know--where am I going to end?" Sitting down on the bed, she +went on: "Every place I look for a position something interferes. It's +almost as if I were blacklisted. I know I could get jobs all right, if +I wanted to pay the price, but I won't. I just want to tell you, I +won't. No!" + +Nervous and restless, she again rose, and, going to the fireplace, +rested her elbow on the mantel. The advance agent coughed and nodded +his head approvingly. + +"That's the way to talk," he said. "I don't know you very well, but +I've watched you close. I'm just a common, ordinary showman, who never +had much money, and I'm going out o' date. I've spent most of my time +with nigger minstrel shows and circuses, but I've been on the square. +That's why I'm broke." Rather sadly he added: "Once I thought the +missis would have to go back and do her acrobatic act, but she couldn't +do that, she's grown so deuced fat." Rising and going up to Laura, he +said: "Just you don't mind. It'll all come out right." + +"It's an awful tough game, isn't it?" she said, averting her face. + +She wiped away the tears that were silently coursing down her wan +cheeks. Then, going to the table, she took up the glass, poured the +unused milk back in the bottle, and replaced the biscuits in the +wardrobe. + +"Tough!" exclaimed the agent. "It's hell forty ways from the Jack. It's +tough for me, but for a pretty woman with a lot o' rich fools jumping +out o' their automobiles and hanging around stage doors, it must be +something awful. I ain't blaming the women. They say 'self-preservation +is the first law of nature,' and I guess that's right; but sometimes +when the show is over and I see them fellows with their hair plastered +back, smoking cigarettes in a holder long enough to reach from here to +Harlem, and a bank-roll that would bust my pocket and turn my head, I +feel as if I'd like to get a gun and go a-shooting around this old +town." + +"Jim!" protested Laura. + +"Yes, I do," he insisted hotly; "you bet!" + +"That wouldn't pay, would it?" + +"No; they're not worth the job of sitting on that throne in Sing Sing, +and I'm too poor to go to Matteawan. But all them fellows under +nineteen and over fifty-nine ain't much use to themselves or any one +else." + +"Perhaps all of them are not so bad," said Laura meditatively. + +"Yes, they are," he insisted angrily; "angels and all. Last season I +had one of them shows where a rich fellow backed it on account of a +girl. We lost money and he lost his girl; then we got stuck in Texas. I +telegraphed: 'Must have a thousand, or can't move.' He just answered: +'Don't move.' We didn't." + +"But that was business." + +"Bad business," he nodded. "It took a year for some of them folks to +get back to Broadway. Some of the girls never did, and I guess never +will." + +"Maybe they're better off, Jim." + +"Couldn't be worse. They're still in Texas. Wish I knew how to do +something else--being a plumber or a walking delegate--they always have +jobs." + +"I wish I could do something else, too, but I can't. We've got to make +the best of it." + +Weston rose and took his hat. + +"I guess so. Well, I'll see you this evening. I hope you'll have good +news by that time." He started to open the door, and then came back a +step, and in a voice meant to be kindly, he said: "If you'd like to go +to the theatre to-night, and take some other woman in the house, maybe +I can get a couple of tickets for one of the shows. I know a lot of +fellows who are working." + +The girl smiled sadly; tears filled her eyes. + +"No, thanks, Jim; I haven't anything to wear to the theatre, and I +don't----" + +He understood. His face broadened into a sympathetic smile, and, +putting his arm affectionately round her waist, as a father might with +his daughter, he said kindly: + +"Now, you just cheer up! Something's sure to turn up. It always has for +me, and I'm a lot older than you, both in years and in this business. +There's always a break in hard luck some time----" + +Laura dried her eyes, and tried to force a smile. + +"I hope so," she said. "But things are looking pretty hopeless now, +aren't they?" + +"Never mind," he said, as he went toward the door. "I'll go and give +Mrs. F. a line o' talk and try to square you for a couple of days more, +anyway. But I guess she's laying pretty close to the cushion herself, +poor woman." + +"Annie says a lot of people owe her." + +"Well, you can't pay what you haven't got. And even if money was +growing on trees, it's winter now. I'm off. Maybe to-day is lucky day. +So long!" + +"Good-by," smiled Laura. + +"Keep your nerve," he said, as he closed the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +"Keep your nerve!" + +The words rang mockingly in the girl's ear long after the good-natured +advance agent had made his departure. Keep her nerve? That was +precisely what she was trying to do, and it was proving almost beyond +her strength. Why had John left her to make this fight alone? He must +have known, even better than she, herself, what a terrific, +heart-breaking struggle it would be. Or did he wish to put her to the +test, to find out if her professed determination to live a new and +cleaner life was genuine and sincere. If that was his motive, surely +she had been tried enough. Then, as she gave herself up to reflection, +doubts began to creep in, doubts of herself, doubts of him. If he +really loved her, truly and unselfishly, would he let her suffer in +this way, would he have so completely deserted her? It did not once +occur to her that John, being thousands of miles away, could not +possibly realize her present plight. A sudden feeling of rebellion came +over her. She began to nourish resentment that he should show such +little concern, that he should have taken no steps to keep informed of +her circumstances. + +For a long-time she sat in moody silence, engrossed in deep thought, +listening only abstractedly to the street sounds without. Presently her +glance, wandering aimlessly around the room, fell on the letter she had +just received from Goldfield. She picked it up, as if about to read it; +then, as if in anger, she threw it impatiently from her. Leaning +forward on the table, her face buried in her two hands, she broke down +completely: + +"I can't stand it--I just simply can't stand it," she moaned to +herself. + +A sudden knock on the door caused her to sit up with a jump. Rising, +confused, as if surprised in some guilty action, she called out: + +"What is it?" + +"A lady to see you!" cried Annie's shrill voice on the other side of +the door. + +Laura went to open. + +"To see me?" she exclaimed in unaffected surprise. + +"It's me--Elfie," called out a familiar voice below. "May I come up?" + +Laura started. Her face turned red and white in turns. Elfie St. Clair! +Should she see her, or say she was out? Yet, why shouldn't she see her? +She needed some one like Elfie to cheer her up. Drying her eyes, she +quickly pulled herself together, and hastened to the top of the stairs. +Her voice, trembling with suppressed excitement, almost unable to +control the agitation that suddenly seized upon her, she cried out: + +"Is that you, Elfie?" + +"Yes, shall I come up?" + +"Why, of course--of course!" + +Panting and flushed from the extraordinary exertion of climbing two +flights of stairs, Elfie at last appeared, gorgeously gowned in the +extreme style affected by ladies who contract alliances with wealthy +gentlemen without the formality of going through a marriage ceremony. +Her dress, of the latest fashion and the richest material, with +dangling gold handbag and chatelaine, contrasted strangely with Laura's +shabbiness and the general dinginess of Mrs. Farley's boarding-house. +But the two girls were too glad to see each other to care about +anything else. With little cries of delight, they fell into each +other's arms. + +"Laura, you old dear!" exclaimed the newcomer in her customary +explosive and vivacious manner. "I've just found out where you've been +hiding, and came around to see you." + +"That's awfully good of you, Elfie. You're looking bully. How are you, +dear?" + +"Fine." + +"Come in, and sit down. I haven't much to offer, but----" + +Laura was visibly embarrassed. Even her forced gayety and attempt at +cordiality did not quite conceal her nervousness. It was the first time +that Elfie had seen her living in such surroundings, and, in spite of +her efforts to remain cool and self-possessed, her cheeks burned with +humiliation. + +"Oh, never mind," said Elfie quickly. Her first glance had told her how +matters stood, but she made no comment. Good-naturedly, she rattled on: + It's such a grand day outside, and I've come around in my car to take +you out. You know, I've got a new one, and it can go some. + +"I am sorry, but I can't go out this afternoon, Elfie." + +"What's the matter?" + +"You see, I'm staying home a good deal nowadays. I haven't been feeling +very well, and I don't go out much." + +"I should think not. I haven't seen even a glimpse of you anywhere +since you returned from Denver. I caught sight of you one day on +Broadway, but couldn't get you--you dived into some office or other." + +Rising from her chair, for the first time she surveyed the room +critically. Unable to contain herself any longer, she burst out +explosively: + +"Gee! Whatever made you come into a dump like this? It's the limit!" + +Laura smiled uneasily. Going to the table, she said awkwardly: + +"Oh, I know it isn't pleasant, but it's my home, and, after all--a +home's a home." + +Elfie shrugged her shoulders. + +"Looks more like a prison." Finding on the mantel a bit of stale candy, +she popped it into her mouth from sheer force of habit. But it was no +sooner in than, with an expression of disgust, she spat it out on the +floor. Scornfully, she added: "Makes me think of the old days, the +dairy kitchen and a hall bedroom," + +Laura sighed. + +"It's comfortable," she said wearily. + +"Not!" retorted Elfie saucily. Sitting on the bed, she jumped on the +mattress as if trying it: "Say, is this here for effect, or do you +sleep on it?" + +"I sleep on it," said Laura quietly. + +"No wonder you look tired," laughed her caller. "Say, listen, dearie, +what else is the matter with you, anyway?" + +Laura looked up at her companion in pretended surprise. + +"Matter?" she echoed. "Why, nothing." + +"Oh, yes, there is," insisted Elfie, shaking her head sagaciously. +"What's happened between you and Brockton?" Noticing the faded flowers +in the vase on the table, she took them out, and after tossing them +into the fireplace, refilled the vase with the fresh gardenias which +she was wearing. Meantime, she did not stop chattering. "He's not +broke, because I saw him the other day." + +"You saw him? Where?" + +"In the park. He asked me out to luncheon, but I couldn't go. You know, +dearie, I've got to be so careful. Jerry's so awful jealous--the old +fool." + +Laura had to smile in spite of herself. + +"Do you see much of Jerry nowadays?" + +"Not any more than I can help and be nice," chuckled Elfie. "He gets on +my nerves. Of course, I have heard about your quitting Brockton." + +"Then why do you ask?" demanded Laura. + +"Just wanted to hear from your own dear lips what the trouble was. Now, +tell me all about it. Can I smoke here?" + +Pulling her gold cigarette-case up with her chatelaine, she opened it, +and selected a cigarette. + +"Certainly," said Laura, getting the matches from the bureau and +putting them on the table. + +"Have one?" said her companion. + +"No, thank you," said Laura, sitting down so that she faced her +companion. + +"H'm-m, h'm-m, hah!" sputtered Elfie, lighting her cigarette. "Now, go +ahead. Tell me all the scandal. I'm just crazy to know." + +"There's nothing to tell," said Laura wearily. "I haven't been able to +find work, that is all, and I'm short of money. You can't live in +hotels, you know, and have cabs and all that sort of thing, when you're +not working." + +"Yes, you can," retorted her visitor. "I haven't worked in a year." + +"But you don't understand, dear. I--I--well, you know, I--well, you +know--I can't say what I want." + +"Oh, yes, you can. You can say anything to me--everybody else does. +We've been pals. I know you got along a little faster in the business +than I did. The chorus was my limit, and you went into the legitimate +thing. But we got our living just the same way. I didn't suppose there +was any secret between you and me about that." + +"I know there wasn't then, Elfie; but I tell you I'm different now. I +don't want to do that sort of thing, and I've been very unlucky. This +has been a terribly hard season for me. I simply haven't been able to +get an engagement." + +"Well, you can't get on this way," said Elfie. She paused a moment, +knocking the ashes off her cigarette to cover her hesitation, and then +went on: "Won't Brockton help you out?" + +Laura rose abruptly and walked over to the fireplace. With some display +of impatience, she exclaimed: + +"What's the use of talking to you, Elfie? You don't understand." + +Her legs crossed in masculine style, and puffing the cigarette +deliberately, Elfie looked at her friend quizzingly: + +"No?" she said mockingly. "Why don't I understand?" + +"Because you can't," cried Laura hotly; "you've never felt as I have." + +"How do you know?" demanded the other, with an elevation of her +eyebrows. + +Laura made a gesture of impatience. + +"Oh, what's the use of explaining?" she cried. + +Her visitor looked at her for a moment without making reply. Then, with +the serious, reproachful manner of a mother reproving a wayward child, +she said: + +"You know, Laura, I'm not much on giving advice, but you make me sick. +I thought you'd grown wise. A young girl just butting into this +business might possibly make a fool of herself, but you ought to be +onto the game, and make the best of it." + +Laura was fast losing her temper. Her eyes flashed, and her hands +worked nervously. Angrily, she exclaimed: + +"If you came up here, Elfie, to talk that sort of stuff to me, please +don't. Out West this summer, I met some one, a real man, who did me a +lot of good. You know him. You introduced him to me that night at the +restaurant. Well, we met again in Denver. I learned to love him. He +opened my eyes to a different way of going along. He's a man who--oh, +well, what's the use! You don't know--you don't know." + +She tossed her head disdainfully as if the matter was not worthy of +further discussion, and sank down on the bed. Elfie, who had listened +attentively, removed the cigarette from her mouth, and threw it into +the fireplace. Scornfully, she said: + +"I don't know, don't I? I don't know, I suppose, then, when I came to +this town from up-State--a little burg named Oswego--and joined a +chorus, that I didn't fall in love with just such a man. I suppose I +don't know that then I was the best-looking girl in New York, and +everybody talked about me? I suppose I don't know that there were men, +all ages, and with all kinds of money, ready to give me anything for +the mere privilege of taking me out to supper? And I didn't do it, did +I? For three years I stuck by this good man, who was to lead me in a +good way, toward a good life. And all the time I was getting older, +never quite so pretty one day as I had been the day before. I never +knew then what it was to be tinkered with by hairdressers and +manicures, or a hundred and one of those other people who make you look +good. I didn't have to have them then." Rising, she went up to the +table and faced her companion. "Well, you know, Laura, what happened." + +"Wasn't it partly your fault, Elfie?" + +Her friend leaned across the table, her face flushed with anger. + +"Was it my fault that time made me older and I took on a lot of flesh? +Was it my fault that the work and the life took out the color, and left +the make-up? Was it my fault that other pretty young girls came along, +just as I'd come, and were chased after, just as I was? Was it my fault +the cabs weren't waiting any more and people didn't talk about how +pretty I was? And was it my fault when he finally had me alone, and +just because no one else wanted me, he got tired and threw me flat----" +Bringing her hand down on the table with a bang, she added: "Cold +flat--and I'd been on the dead level with him." With almost a sob, she +went up to the bureau, powdered her nose, and returned to the table. +"It almost broke my heart. Then I made up my mind to get even and get +all I could out of the game. Jerry came along. He was a has-been, and I +was on the road to be. He wanted to be good to me, and I let him. +That's all!" + +"Still, I don't see how you can live that way," said Laura, lying back +on the bed. + +"Well, you did," retorted Elfie, "and you didn't kick." + +"Yes," rejoined Laura calmly, "but things are different with me now. +You'd be the same way if you were in my place." + +"No," laughed Elfie mockingly, "I've had all the romance I want, and +I'll stake you to all your love affairs. I am out to gather in as much +coin as I can in my own way, so when the old rainy day comes along I'll +have a little change to buy myself an umbrella." + +Laura started angrily to her feet. Hotly she cried: + +"What did you come here for? Why can't you leave me alone when I'm +trying to get along?" + +"Because I want to help you," retorted Elfie calmly. + +With tears streaming down her cheeks, almost hysterical, Laura tossed +aside the quilt and sank down in a heap on the bed. + +"You can't help me!" she sobbed. "I'm all right--I tell you I am." +Peevishly she demanded: "What do you care, anyway?" + +Elfie rose, and going over to the bed, sat down and took her old chum's +hand. Quietly she said: + +"But I do care. I know how you feel with an old cat for a landlady, and +living up here on a side street with a lot of cheap burlesque people." +Laura snatched her hand away, and going up to the window, turned her +back. It was a direct snub, but Elfie did not care. Unabashed, she went +on: "Why, the room's cold, and there's no hot water, and you're +beginning to look shabby. You haven't got a job--chances are you won't +have one." Pointing contemptuously to the picture of John Madison over +the bed, she went on: "What does that fellow do for you? Send you long +letters of condolences? That's what I used to get. When I wanted to buy +a new pair of shoes or a silk petticoat he told me how much he loved +me; so I had the other ones re-soled and turned the old petticoat. And +look at you--you're beginning to show it." Surveying her friend's face +more closely, she went on: "I do believe there are lines coming in your +face, and you hide in the house because you've nothing to wear." + +Jumping off the bed, Laura went quickly to the dresser, and picking up +the hand mirror, looked carefully at herself. Then laying the glass +down, she turned and faced the other. Sharply she retorted: + +"But I've got what you haven't got. I may have to hide my clothes, but +I don't have to hide my face. And you with that man--he's old enough to +be your father--a toddling dote, hanging on your apron strings. I don't +see how you dare show your face to a decent woman!" + +It was Elfie's turn now to lose her temper. She rose, flushed with +anger. + +"You don't, eh?" she cried hotly. "But you did once, and I never caught +you hanging your head. You say he's old. I know he's old, but he's good +to me. He's making what's left of my life pleasant. You think I like +him. I don't--sometimes I hate him--but he understands; and you can bet +your life his cheque is in my mail every Saturday night, or there's a +new lock on the door Sunday morning." + +"How dare you say such things to me?" exclaimed Laura indignantly. + +"Because I want you to be square with yourself. You've lost all that +precious virtue women gab about. When you've got the name, I say get +the game." + +Almost speechless from anger, Laura pointed to the door. + +"You can go now, Elfie, and don't come back!" + +"All right," exclaimed Elfie, gathering up her muff and gloves, "if +that's the way you want it to be, I'm sorry." + +She was hurrying toward the door, when suddenly there came a knock. +Laura, with an effort, controlled herself. + +"Come in," she called out. + +Annie entered, with a note, which she handed to Laura. + +"Mis' Farley sent dis, Miss Laura." + +Laura read the note. A look of mingled annoyance and embarrassment came +into her face. + +"There's no answer," she said sharply, crushing the note up in her +hand. + +But Annie was not to be put off. + +"She tol' me not to leave until Ah got an answah." + +"You must ask her to wait," retorted Laura doggedly. + +"She wants an answer," persisted the negress. + +"Tell her I'll be right down--that it will be all right." + +"But, Miss Laura, she tol' me to get an answah." + +She went out reluctantly, closing the door. + +"She's taking advantage of your being here," exclaimed Laura +apologetically, half to herself and half to her visitor. + +"How?" demanded Elfie. + +"She wants money--three weeks' room-rent. I presume she thought you'd +give it to me." + +"Huh!" exclaimed the other, tossing her head. + +Changing her tone, Laura went up to her. + +"Elfie," she said, "I've been a little cross; I didn't mean it." + +"Well?" demanded her companion. + +"Could--could you lend me thirty-five dollars until I get to work?" + +"Me?" demanded her visitor, in indignant astonishment. + +"You actually have the face to ask me to lend you thirty-five dollars?" + +"Yes, you've got plenty of money to spare." + +"Well, you certainly have got a nerve!" exclaimed Elfie. + +"You might give it to me," pleaded Laura. "I haven't a dollar in the +world, and you pretend to be such a friend to me!" + +Elfie turned angrily. + +"So that's the kind of a woman you are, eh? A moment ago you were going +to kick me out of the place because I wasn't decent enough to associate +with you. You know how I live. You know how I get my money--the same +way you got most of yours. And now that you've got this spasm of +goodness, I'm not fit to be in your room; but you'll take my money to +pay your debts. You'll let me go out and do this sort of thing for your +benefit, while you try to play the grand lady. I've got your number +now, Laura. Where in hell is your virtue, anyway? You can go to the +devil, rich, poor, or any other way. I'm off!" + +She rushed toward the door. For a moment Laura stood speechless; then, +with a loud cry, she broke down and burst into hysterics: + +"Elfie! Elfie! Don't go now! Don't leave me now! Don't go!" Her visitor +stood hesitating, with one hand on the doorknob. Laura went on: "I +can't stand it. I can't be alone. Don't go, please, don't go!" + +She fell into her friend's arms, sobbing. On the instant Elfie's +hardness of demeanor changed. With all her coarseness, she was a +good-natured woman at heart. Melting into the tenderest womanly +sympathy, she tried her best to express herself in her crude way. +Leading the weeping girl to the armchair, she made her sit down. Then, +seating herself on the arm, she put her arm round her old chum and +hugged her to her breast. + +"There, old girl," she said soothingly, "don't cry, don't cry. You just +sit down here and let me put my arms around you. I'm awful sorry--on +the level, I am. I shouldn't have said it, I know that. But I've got +feelings, too, even if folks don't give me credit for it." + +Laura looked up through her tears. + +"I know, Elfie, I've gone through about all I can stand." + +Her friend smoothed her by stroking her hair. + +"Well, I should say you have--and more than I would. Anyway, a good cry +never hurts any woman. I have one myself sometimes, under cover." + +As Laura recovered control of herself, she grew meditative. Musingly +she said: + +"Perhaps what you said was true." + +"We won't talk about it--there!" said Elfie, drying her friend's eyes +and kissing her. + +"But perhaps it was true," persisted Laura, "and then----" + +"And then----" + +"I think I've stood this just as long; as I can. Every day is a living +horror----" + +Elfie nodded acquiescence. Glancing round the room, she exclaimed, with +a comical grimace of disgust: + +"It's the limit!" + +"I've got to have money to pay the rent," continued Laura anxiously. +"I've pawned everything I have, except the clothes on my back----" + +Elfie threw her arms consolingly round her friend. + +"I'll give you all the money you need, dearie. Great heavens, don't +worry about that! Don't you care if I got sore and--lost my head." + +Laura shook her head. + +"No, I can't let you do that. You may have been mad--awfully mad--but +what you said was the truth. I can't take your money." + +"Oh, forget that!" laughed Elfie. + +Laura put up a hand to cool her burning forehead. Looking out of the +window, she said wistfully: + +"Maybe--maybe if he knew all about it--the suffering--he wouldn't blame +me." + +"Who?" cried Elfie sarcastically. "The good man who wanted to lead you +to the good life without even a bread-basket for an advance agent? +Huh!" + +"He doesn't know how desperately poor I am," explained Laura +half-apologetically. + +"He knows you're out of work, don't he?" + +"Not exactly. I told him it was difficult to find an engagement, but he +has no idea that things are as they are." + +"Then you're a chump!" declared Elfie, with an expressive shrug of her +shoulders. "Hasn't he sent you anything?" + +"He hasn't anything to send." + +Elfie bounded with indignant surprise. + +"What? Then what does he think you're going to live on--asphalt +croquettes with conversation sauce?" + +Sinking down on a chair, Laura gave way again. + +"I don't know--I don't know!" she cried, sobbing. + +Elfie went over to her friend and placed her arms about her. + +"Don't be foolish, dearie. You know there is somebody waiting for +you--somebody who'll be good to you and get you out of this mess." + +Laura looked up quickly. + +"You mean Will Brockton?" she said, fixing her companion with a steady +stare. + +"Yes." + +"Do you know where he is?" + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +"You won't get sore again if I tell you, will you?" + +Laura rose. + +"No--why?" she said. + +"He's downstairs--waiting in the car. I promised to tell him what you +said." + +"Then it was all planned, and--and----" + +"Now, dearie, I knew you were up against it, and I wanted to bring you +two together. He's got half of the Burgess shows, and if you'll only +see him, everything will be fixed." + +"When does he want to see me?" + +"Now." + +"Here?" + +"Yes. Shall I tell him to come up?" + +Motionless as a statue, Laura made no sign. Her face pale as death, her +hands clasped in front of her, she stood as if transfixed, staring out +of the window. + +"Shall I tell him to come up?" repeated Elfie impatiently. + +Still no answer for a long moment that seemed like an hour. Then all at +once, with a quick, convulsive movement, as if by a determined effort +she had succeeded in conquering her own will, she turned and cried, +with a half sob: + +"Yes--yes--tell him to come up!" + +Elfie sprang joyously forward. Her arguments had not been in vain, +after all. Kissing her friend's cold cheeks, she exclaimed: + +"Now you're a sensible dear. I'll bet he's half-frozen down there. I'll +send him up at once." + +Anxious to get Brockton there before the girl had a chance to change +her mind, she was hurrying toward the door, when she happened to notice +Laura's red eyes and tear-stained face. That would never do. Coming +back, she exclaimed: + +"Look at you, Laura! You're a perfect sight!" + +Throwing her gloves and muff onto a chair, she led the girl to the +washstand, and taking a towel, wiped her eyes and face. + +"It'll never do to have him see you looking like this!" she said. "Now, +Laura, I want you to promise me you won't do any more crying. Come over +here and let me powder your nose----" + +Incapable of further resistance, feeling herself a helpless victim in +the hands of irrevocable Fate, Laura followed docilely to the dresser, +where Elfie took the powder-puff and powdered her face. This done, she +daubed her cheeks with the rouge-paw and pencilled her lips and +eyebrows. As she worked, she rattled on: + +"Now, when he comes up, you tell him he has got to blow us all off to a +swell dinner to-night--seven-thirty. Let me look at you----" + +Laura put up her face like an obedient child. Elfie kissed her. + +"Now you're all right," she said cheerfully. "Make it strong, +now--seven-thirty, don't forget. I'll be there. So-long." + +Going to the armchair and gathering up the muff and gloves she had +thrown there, Elfie left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +For a minute or two Laura remained motionless. Sinking inertly onto a +chair after the door closed, she sat still, engrossed in deep thought. + +This, then, was the end of her good resolutions and her hopes of +regeneration! What would _he_ say? Would he care and grieve after her, +or would he treat it as a jest, an idle romance with which they had +amused themselves those happy midsummer days in Denver? Yes--it was a +dream--nothing more. Life was too hard, too brutal for such ideal +longings to be possible of realization. It was just as well that she +had come to her senses before it was too late. + +Rising with a sigh, she crossed to the other side of the room, and +halting at the wardrobe, stood contemplating John's portrait which was +tacked up there. Then calmly, deliberately, she loosened the nails with +a pair of scissors and took the picture down. Proceeding to the +dresser, she picked up the small picture in the frame; then, kneeling +on the mattress, she pulled down the large picture of him that was over +the bed, and placed all three portraits under a pillow. Barely was this +done, when there was a sharp rap at the door. + +"Come in," she called out. + +The door opened, and Brockton entered, well groomed and immaculately +dressed. For a moment he stood irresolute on the threshold, just +looking at her. There was obvious embarrassment on the part of each of +them. Laura went toward him, with hand extended. + +"Hello, Laura," he said pleasantly. + +"I'm--I'm glad to see you, Will." + +"Thank you." + +"Won't you sit down?" she said timidly. + +"Thank you again," he smiled. + +Quickly regaining his ease of manner, he put his hat and cane on the +table, took off his overcoat, which he placed on the back of the +armchair, and sat down. + +"It's rather cold, isn't it?" said Laura, taking a seat opposite him. + +"Just a bit sharp." + +"You came with Elfie in the car?" + +"She picked me up on Broadway; we lunched together." + +"By appointment?" she asked quickly. + +"I'd asked her," he answered dryly. + +"Well?" she demanded. + +"Well, Laura," he replied calmly. + +"She told you?" + +He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. + +"Not a great deal. What do you want to tell me?" + +Avoiding his direct glance, she said very simply: + +"Will, I'm ready to come back." + +With an effort, the broker concealed his sense of triumph and +satisfaction. Rising quickly, he went up to her. Taking her hand, he +said tenderly: + +"I'm mighty glad of that, Laura. I've missed you like the very devil." + +Visibly embarrassed, she asked timidly: + +"Do we--do we have to talk it over much?" + +"Not at all unless you want to. I understand--in fact, I always have." + +"Yes," she said wearily, "I guess you always did. I didn't." + +"It will be just the same as it was before, you know." + +"Yes--of course----" + +"I didn't think it was possible for me to miss anyone the way I have +you. I've been lonely." + +She smiled faintly: + +"It's nice in you to say that." + +Drawing back a few steps he cast a hurried glance around the room. + +"You'll have to move out of here right away. This place is enough to +give one the colly-wabbles. If you'll be ready to-morrow, I'll send my +man over to help you take care of the luggage." + +"To-morrow will be all right, thank you," she replied. + +He put his hand in his pocket and took out a big roll of money. Peeling +off five yellow-backed bills and placing them on the table, he said: + +"And you'll need some money in the meantime. I'll leave this here." + +"You seem to have come prepared," she smiled. "Did Elfie and you plan +all this out?" + +He chuckled as he replied: + +"Not planned--just hoped. I think you'd better go to some nice hotel +now. Later we can arrange." + +She offered no objection, accepting everything suggested as a matter of +course. Having sold herself, as it were, to the highest bidder, it was +not her place to raise any further obstacles. Dispassionately, +therefore, she said: + +"Will, we'll always be frank. I said I was ready to go. It's up to +you--when and where." + +He smiled, surprised to find her so tractable. + +"The hotel scheme is the best, but, Laura----" + +"Yes?" + +He looked at her keenly, trying to penetrate beneath the surface of her +almost unnatural calm. He did not wish to be fooled again. + +"You're quite sure this is in earnest?" he demanded. "You don't want to +change? You've time enough now." + +She shook her head. + +"I've made up my mind. It's final," she said positively. + +"If you want to work," he went on, "Burgess has a nice part for you. +I'll telephone and arrange if you say so." + +"Please do. Say I'll see him in the morning." + +The broker rose and paced nervously up and down the room. So far so +good, but he had not yet finished. There was still something unpleasant +that must be attended to before all was settled, and now was the proper +and only time to do it. Turning abruptly, he said: + +"Laura, you remember when we were in Denver----" + +Starting forward, the girl raised one hand entreatingly. For the moment +her studied quiet was laid aside. + +"Please, please don't speak of that!" she cried. + +Brockton stood still, looking her squarely in the eyes. His manner was +extremely serious and determined. + +"I'm sorry," he said, "but I've got to." Slowly and deliberately he +went on: "Last summer, in Denver, I told John Madison that if this time +ever came--when you would return to me of your own free will--I'd have +you write him the truth. Before we go any further, I'd like you to do +that--now." + +Even under her cosmetics, the girl grew a shade paler. In a trembling, +uncertain voice, she faltered: + +"Say good-by?" + +"Just that," said Brockton firmly. + +She looked distressed. The muscles about the corners of her mouth +worked convulsively. + +"I wouldn't know how to begin. It will hurt him terribly." + +"It will be worse if you don't," insisted the broker. "He'll like you +the better for telling him. It would be honest, and that is what he +expects." + +She knew he was right, and that there was no way out of it, yet this +was the hardest ordeal of all. In her heart she knew she was +lying--lying to Brockton, lying to John, lying to herself. But she must +lie, for she had not the strength to resist. The world was too hard, +the suffering too great. What could she tell John--that she had ceased +to love him and gone back to her old life? How he would despise her! +Yet it must be----. Her eyes blinded with scalding tears, she asked: + +"Must I write--now?" + +"I think you should," he replied kindly but firmly. + +Dropping onto a seat near the table, she took up a pen. + +"How shall I begin?" she asked tremulously. + +He looked at her in surprise. + +"Do you mean that you don't know what to say?" + +She nodded and turned away her head, not daring to let him see her +white, tear-stained face. He made a step forward. + +"Then I'll dictate a letter," he said. + +"That's right," she half-sobbed. "I'll do just as you say. You're the +one to tell me now----" + +"Address it the way you want to," he said. "I'm going to be pretty +brutal. In the long run, I think that is best, don't you?" + +"It's up to you," she said quietly. + +"Ready?" + +"Begin." + +Looking-over her shoulder, while she put pen to paper, he began to +dictate: + + "This is the last letter you will ever receive from me. All is over + between us. I need not enter into explanations. I have tried and I + have failed. Do not think badly of me. It was beyond my strength. + Good-by. I shall not tell you where I've gone, but remind you of + what Brockton told you the last time he saw you. He is here now, + dictating this letter. What I am doing is voluntary--my own + suggestion. Don't grieve. Be happy and successful. I do not love + you----" + +When she came to the last sentence, she stopped, laid her pen down, and +looked up at the broker. + +"Will--please--" she protested. + +But he insisted. + +"It has got to go just that way," he said determinedly. "'I do not love +you.' Sign it 'Laura.' Fold it, put it in an envelope--seal it--address +it. Shall I mail it?" + +She hesitated, and then stammered: + +"No. If you don't mind, I'd sooner mail it myself. It's a sort of a +last--last message, you know. I'd like to send it myself." + +Brockton went to the armchair, took his coat, and put it on. + +"All right," he said cheerily. "You're a little upset now, and I'm +going. We are all to dine together to-night at seven-thirty. There'll +be a party. Of course you'll come." + +"I don't think I can," she answered, with some embarrassment. "You +see----" + +He understood. Nodding and pointing to the money he had left on the +table, he said: + +"I know. I guess there's enough there for your immediate needs. Later +you can straighten things up. Shall I send the car?" + +"Yes, please." + +He drew nearer and bent over her, as if about to caress her. +Instinctively she shrank from his embrace. What at any other time would +have appeared perfectly natural was now repugnant to her. It seemed +indecent when the ink on her letter to John Madison was not yet dry. + +"Please don't," she said. "Remember, we don't dine until seven-thirty." + +"All right," he laughed, as he took his hat and cane and went out of +the door. + +For a few minutes after his departure Laura sat in meditative silence. +There was no drawing back now. She had accepted this man's money. She +must go on to the end, no matter where it led her. She had sold +herself; henceforth she was this man's slave and chattel. Suddenly she +was seized with a feeling of disgust. She loathed herself for her +weakness, her lack of stamina, her cowardice. She did not deserve that +a decent man should love or respect her. Angry at herself, angry with +the world, she rose, and going to the dresser, got the alcohol lamp and +placed it on the table. While she was lighting it there came a knock at +the door. + +"Come in," she called out. + +Annie entered. + +"Is that you, Annie?" + +"Yassum," said the negress. + +Laura took the bank notes which Brockton had left and threw them on the +table. With affected carelessness, she said: + +"Mrs. Farley wants her rent. There is some money. Take it to her." + +Approaching the table, the negress' eyes nearly started out of her head +when she caught sight of the bank notes. Bewildered, she exclaimed: + +"Dey ain't nothin' heah, Miss Laura, but five great big one hundred +dollah bills!" + +"Take two," said Laura. "And look in that upper drawer. You'll find +some pawn-tickets there." + +"Yassum," said the negress, obeying instructions. "Dat's real money--dem's +yellow backs, sure!" + +"Take the two top ones," continued Laura, "and go get my lace gown and +one of the hats. The ticket is for a hundred and ten dollars. Keep ten +for yourself, and hurry." + +Annie gasped from sheer excitement. + +"Ten for myself?" she grinned. "I never seen so much money. Yassum, +Miss Laura, yassum." As she went toward the door she turned round, and +said: "Ah'm so mighty glad yo' out all yo' trouble, Miss Laura. I says +to Mis' Farley, now----" + +Laura cut her off short. + +"Don't--don't!" she exclaimed sharply. "Go do as I tell you, and mind +your business." + +Annie turned sullenly and walked toward the door. At that moment Laura +noticed the letter which still lay on the table. She called the maid +back: + +"Wait a minute. I want you to mail a letter." + +Picking up the letter, she held it out to the negress, who put out her +hand to receive it. Laura still hesitated. Looking at the envelope long +and wistfully, her nerve failed her. Dismissing the girl with a +gesture, she said: + +"Never mind. I'll mail it myself." + +The negress went out. When the door shut behind her, Laura went quickly +to the table and held the letter over the flame of the alcohol lamp. +The envelope speedily ignited. As it burned she held it for a moment in +her fingers, and when half-consumed, threw it into a waste-jar. Sitting +on the side of the bed, she watched the letter burn, and when the last +tiny flame flickered out, she sank down on the bed, her head supported +on her elbows, her chin resting in her hands, thinking, thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +Hugging the grateful warmth of an expiring camp fire, the figures of +two stalwart men lay stretched out on the hard, frozen ground, bundled +up in heavy army blankets. The mercury was forty-five below zero and +still falling, but they did not appear to mind. Gaunt and hollow-eyed, +enfeebled from long fasting, they had succumbed at last to utter +physical exhaustion, and fallen into a sound and merciful sleep. + +All Nature slept with them. The distant howling of wolves and the +occasional scream of an eagle only served to intensify the universal +stillness. The sepulchral silence of the Far North enveloped everything +like an invisible mantle. Away to the east, the first gray mists of +approaching daylight were creeping over the jagged mountain tops. The +cold was intense. The snow was so deep in spots that the entire +landscape was obliterated; only the trees, marvellously festooned with +lace-like icicles, and a few huge, fire-scarred rocks which here and +there thrust their jagged points above the surface, remained of the +desolate marsh and forest land. Everywhere, as far as the eye could +carry, was a trackless waste of snow drift. + +The men lay motionless; only by their deep, rhythmical breathing could +one know that they were alive. Dead to the world, they were as +insensible to the cutting wind which, with the force of a half-gale, +swept over the icy plains, sending the last flickering embers of their +fire up in a cloud of flying sparks, as they were to the pain in their +fever-racked bodies. + +It was lucky they were still able to make a fire. The flames gave them +warmth and kept the wolves at bay. But for that and the occasional +small game they had been able to shoot, they would have perished long +ago, and then the gold-fever would have claimed two victims more. For +days and days they had tramped aimlessly through that wild region, +prospecting for the yellow metal, until, footsore and weary, nature at +last gave way. They had lost their bearings and could go no farther. +Miles away from the nearest human habitation, they were face to face +with death from starvation. Then the weather changed; it suddenly grew +very cold; before they knew it, the blizzard was upon them. The +suffering had been terrible, the obstacles inconceivable, yet they +never faltered. A goal lay before them, and they pushed right on, +determined to attain it. The prospector for gold plays for heavy +stakes--a fortune or his life. Never willing to acknowledge defeat, +undeterred by continual, heart-breaking disappointment, still he pushes +on. Spurred by the irresistible lure of gold, there is no place so +dangerous or so difficult of access that he will not penetrate to it. +In winter he perishes of cold, in summer he is overcome by the heat, +yet no matter. Nothing short of death itself can stop him in his +determined, insensate quest for wealth. + +It grew gradually lighter. The sky was overcast and threatening. A +light snow began to fall. One of the men shivered and opened his eyes. +Looking stupidly about him, with a long-drawn-out yawn, first at the +dying fire, then at his still unconscious mate, he jumped up with a +shout. At first he was too dazed with sleep to stand straight, and his +teeth chattered from the cold. He was also ravenously hungry. But first +they must think of the fire. That must be kept up at all costs. He was +so weak that he staggered, and his clothes hung from him in rags; but +shambling over to where his companion lay, he shook him roughly: + +"Hello, Jim--hello, there! The d----d fire is almost out. Quick, man!" + +Thus unceremoniously aroused from his trance-like slumber, John +Madison, or what remained of him, lifted his head and painfully raised +himself on one elbow. He was a pitiable-looking object. His hair, all +dishevelled and matted, hung down over haggard-looking eyes; his cheeks +were hollow from hunger, his ghastly pale face, livid from the cold, +was covered with several weeks' growth of beard. From head to foot he +was filthy and neglected from lack of the necessaries of life, and +there was in his staring eyes a haunted, terrified look--the look of a +man who has been face to face with death and yet lived to tell the +tale. His remaining rags barely covered his emaciated, trembling frame. +Shoes had gone long ago. His bleeding, frost-bitten feet were partly +protected with coarse sacking tied with string. No one could have +recognized in this human derelict the strapping specimen of proud +manhood who six weeks before had said good-by to Laura and started out +light-heartedly to conquer the world. Instead, the world had conquered +him. + +Throwing off the blanket, he staggered to his feet. He felt sick and +dizzy. Once he reeled and nearly fell. Twenty hours without food takes +the backbone out of any man, and it was as bad as that, with no +prospect of anything better. Weakly he stooped, and gathering up a +little snow, put it in his mouth. Then his face winced with pain. The +hunger pangs were there again. Stamping the ground and exercising his +arms vigorously for a few moments, to get his blood in circulation, he +turned, and, stooping down again to his couch, drew from under the roll +of blanket that had served him for a pillow, a formidable-looking Colt +six-shooter and a girl's photograph. The Colt he slipped between his +rags; the picture he pressed to his lips. + +"God bless you, little one!" he murmured. + +His companion, who was busy bending over the fire, trying to coax it +back to life, happened to look up. + +"Say, young feller!" he bellowed. "Cut out that mush, and lend a hand +with this fire. Get some wood, and plenty--quick!" + +Madison made no retort. He was too weak to care. Besides, Bill was +right. He had no business to think only of himself when they were both +making a last stand for life itself. Hastily gathering an armful of +small twigs, he threw them on the fire. As he watched the flames leap +up, his mate still grumbled: + +"This ain't no time for foolin'. I should think yer'd try to get us out +of this mess, instead of wastin' time mooning-over that picture." + +Madison stooped over the fire and warmed his frozen hands. Shivering, +he said: + +"Bill--you don't know--how can you know?--what that picture means to +me. It's all that's left to me. I never expect to see her again. I +guess we'll both leave our carcasses here for the vultures to feed on. +I can't go on much longer like this without food or shelter. I'm almost +ready to cash in myself." + +The other doggedly bit on a piece of ice and said nothing. Madison +continued: + +"If I gave up three square meals a day and a comfortable bed to come +out here and die in this infernal hole, it was only for her sake. We +were to get married soon. I promised to go back with a fortune, and she +said she'd wait for me----" + +The figure crouching on the other side of the fire chuckled grimly: + +"Wait for you, eh?" he echoed dubiously. + +"Yes, wait for me--why not?" snapped John. + +The other shook his head. + +"She may and she may not. It depends on the gal. Where is she?" + +"New York." + +"Working?" + +"Yes--in a fashion. She's an actress." + +"Oh!" + +Bill gave another derisive chuckle. Irritated, John demanded hotly: + +"What's the matter?" + +"Queer lot--actresses!" grinned Bill. "Never knew no good of 'em." + +John's eyes flashed dangerously, and weak though he was, he sprang up +and put his hand to his hip. Before he drew his gun, his mate +apologized. + +"No offense, pard. I didn't mean no harm. I guess if she's your gal, +she's all right. No offense." + +Madison, mollified, sat down again. Warmly he said: + +"Ah, Bill--you don't know--you don't know. She means everything to me. +I'd sooner cut my throat than think her false for one instant. +Why--she'd wait for me if it took years. I know her; you don't. She's +the best girl in the world." + +Bill nodded. Sententiously he said: + +"That's the right line o' talk, I guess, for a feller wot's in love, +but it's not goin' to help us find the trail. We've got to get on and +find something to eat. Jist at present, wittles is more to the point +than spooning." + +Bill Branigan was an original. An Irish-American, he was earning good +wages in one of the Chicago stockyards when the gold rush to Alaska +began. Attacked like many others with the get-rich-quick fever, he went +to the Yukon, and later found his way to Goldfield, Nevada, where he +met Madison. The two men were instantly attracted to each other. Superb +specimens of hardy manhood, both were ambitious, fearless, thirsty for +adventure. Bill proposed a partnership--a risk-all, divide-all +agreement. His other scheme having failed, Madison was glad enough to +accept the offer. So with renewed hope and determination, both men +turned their faces to the setting sun, and wandered across the mountain +ranges, looking for gold. A loquacious Indian, after being generously +dosed with "firewater," had told them of a lonely unknown place in the +wilderness, where the ground was literally strewn with gold. Nuggets as +big as a man's fist, he said, could be found by merely scratching the +surface of the soil. They swallowed the yarn with the necessary grain +of salt; but in the gold region, where so many miracles have happened, +nothing is deemed impossible. The wildest romance receives credence. +Vast fortunes had been made over night on clues no less preposterous. +Anyhow, it was worth investigating. So, quietly, almost stealthily, +taking no one into their confidence, they started North. + +After days of strenuous tramping and effort, climbing hills, fording +streams, cutting through impenetrable brushwood, they finally reached +the region of which the Indian had given a fairly accurate description. +Nearly two hundred miles from the nearest camp, on the top of a +mountain plateau, the country was as wild and desolate as it is +possible to imagine. Probably no white man had ever set foot there +before. Soon their supplies ran low, and as they advanced further into +the wilderness, and game grew scarcer, it became more difficult to find +food. In addition to hunger, they suffered severely from the cold, and +the jagged rocks tearing their boots made them footsore. + +Of gold they had seen a few traces, but the ore was not present in such +quantities as to encourage them to believe they had stumbled across +another El Dorado, or even to make it worth their while to stake out a +claim. Branigan, disappointed, was in favor of going back. The Indian +was lying, he said. There was danger of getting lost in the mountains. +The severe winter storms were about due. Prudence counselled caution. +John took an opposite view. They had picked up several lumps of quartz +streaked with yellow. If gold was there in minute particles, he argued, +it was there also in larger quantities. The only thing was to have +patience, to go on prospecting, and ferret out the hiding-place where +jealous Nature secreted her treasures. + +So they had struggled on, hoping against hope, thinking they would soon +come across a trapper's hut, fighting for mere existence each inch of +the way, becoming more bewildered and demoralized as they realized the +gravity of their plight, advancing further and further into the +merciless desert, literally stumbling into the jaws of death. Then came +the snow, and the faint Indian trails were completely obliterated. This +put the climax on their misery. Now there was no knowing where they +were. Having no compass, they were hopelessly lost. In clear weather it +was possible to find the right direction by the stars, but the sky, +long-overcast and menacing, vouchsafed no sign. Even if the road could +be found, escape was impossible. Starved and footsore, they were now so +weak that they were scarcely able to drag themselves along. Yet move +they must; to remain in one spot meant to fall down and go to sleep and +perish. They had had nothing to eat for days except snow and some roots +which Bill dug up from under the snow. Once they were attacked by +wolves. Madison shot one of their pursuers with his revolver, and the +rest of the pack turned tail and ran. The dead wolf they ate. They did +not stop to cook it, but devoured it raw, like famished dogs worrying a +bone. It saved their lives for a time, and then the hunger pangs began +again, terrible, incessant. + +The freshly stacked fire send clouds of smoke skywards, and its crimson +glow, casting a vivid light on the two men crouching close by, made +their abject figures stand out with startling distinctness against the +gray background of the snow-clad landscape. Madison, who had long been +silent, staring stolidly into the flames, listening absent-mindedly to +his companion's arguments, at last broke in: + +"Gold! I'm sick of gold--sick of the very word. I'd give all the gold +there is in the world just to see Laura once again. That's all I'd +ask--to see her just once. Then I'd be willing to die in peace. She has +no idea of this. Do you think they'll ever know? Maybe some one will +find our bodies." + +Bill made no answer. He was paying no attention. His mind was too weak +to grasp what was said. He had only one thought--one fixed thought--and +that was--gold. Pointing off in the distance, where a mass of +moss-covered rock rose like some gigantic vessel in an ocean of snow, +he said in a thick, uncertain voice: + +"John, my boy, I had a dream last night. I dreamt I tried some of them +high spots yonder. I struck the rock with my pick, and suddenly I was +dazzled. Wet flakes of shining gold stared up at me from the quartz. I +struck again, and there was more gold. I pulled the moss from it, and +everywhere there was gold. I struck right and left, and a perfect +shower of nuggets as big as my head rolled at my feet. Then I woke up." + +"Yes," said John sarcastically, "then you woke up." + +Bill nodded stupidly. + +"I know it was only a dream," he said, "but somehow I can't get the +gold out of my head. I've a notion to go and try them rocks. You might +try in the other direction." + +John shrugged his shoulders. + +"Won't do any harm as I know of," he said wearily. "Go and try. I'll +stay here a while and nurse my frost bites. When I'm rested I'll go and +try my luck." + +His mate rose, and taking his pick, the weight of which was almost too +much for his strength, said cheerily: + +"If I find anything, I'll holler," he said. + +"I guess you won't holler," replied his comrade, with a wan smile. + +When his mate had disappeared, Madison remained sitting by the fire, +staring meditatively into its red depths. He was not thinking of gold +just then, but of a golden-haired girl who was thousands of miles away, +little dreaming of the unexpected fate that had befallen him. He +wondered what Laura was doing, if she was happy and successful. She had +written in rather discouraging tone, saying it seemed impossible to +find the right kind of engagement, but of course that was long ago, at +the beginning of the season. Letters took so long to come from New +York. By this time she must have found something she liked, and in +which she could do herself justice. He did not like to see her on the +stage. It was an artificial, unhealthy life. He had intended, when they +were married, taking her away from her former surroundings for good. It +would not be necessary for her to earn her living. He could have made +enough for both. + +When they were married! What cruel irony that sounded now. Perhaps she +would never hear of his fate. Inquiries would be made at Goldfield and +search parties might be sent to scour the brush, but it would be too +late. They would find only their dead bodies, picked clean by the birds +of prey. How happy he might have been. After all his many years, he at +last had found a girl who really cared for him, a girl who was willing +to give up everything for his sake, a girl whose firmness of character +he could not help but respect. + +What had he cared what her past had been? The very fact that she had +been willing to abandon her luxurious way of living, and endure +comparative poverty for his sake, was proof enough of her sincerity. He +had hoped she would not have to make a sacrifice long. One day he +thought he would make a lucky "strike" and go back laden with gold, +which he would pour into her lap. How delighted and surprised she would +have been. He would have given her a fine house, automobiles, beautiful +gowns, precious jewels, everything money can buy. Nothing would have +been too good to reward her weary months of waiting. And now---- + +Rising wearily to his feet, he threw some more wood on the fire, and +then snatching up a short steel pick, proceeded in the direction +opposite to that taken by Branigan. He soon reached the foothills, and +began work scraping the moss-covered rocks, striking deep into +boulders, turning over the soil, his eye watchful for a glimpse of +glittering gold particles. + +He toiled for a couple of hours, till his hands were blistered and his +muscles ached. There was no sign of his companion. He hollered several +times at the top of his voice, but receiving no response, he concluded +that Bill, in his prospecting, had wandered farther away than he +intended. There was no reason for uneasiness. If he did not return +soon, he would go in search of him. As he toiled on mechanically, he +pondered: + +Even if they were lucky and got out of this plight, it would be years +before he was on his feet again. He would not be able to support +himself, let alone a wife. It might be months, years before his luck +turned again. Would she wait? + +Suddenly his brow darkened. He clenched his fist, and the veins on his +temple swelled up like whipcord. Had she waited? He remembered Bill's +scoffing words. Could it be true of Laura? Was she false to him? The +possibility of such a thing had never entered his head before, but now +he was tortured with the agonies and doubts of insensate, unreasoning +jealousy. Maybe she had found it harder than she anticipated. Compelled +to economize, deprived of luxuries that had become necessities, perhaps +she had repented her bargain and gone back to that scoundrel Brockton. +Possibly at that very moment she was in the broker's arms. The thought +was maddening. A cold sweat broke out all over him at the very thought +of it What would he do if he found her false? What would he do if he +found his happiness destroyed, the future a hopeless blank, his faith +in womankind forever shattered. There was only one thing to be done. +Stern justice--the swift, savage justice of the cold, desolate, +blizzard-swept plains. He would shoot them both, and himself afterward. + +He ceased working, the pick fell from his nerveless hands. The hunger +pains were gnawing at his vitals. He felt dizzy and sick. A death chill +invaded his entire being. It suddenly grew dark; there was a buzzing in +his ears. His knees gave way beneath him. He stumbled and fell. He was +still conscious, but he knew he was very ill--if only he could call +Branigan. + +Suddenly his ear caught an unfamiliar sound. Instinctively, ill as he +was, he started up. It was the sound of human voices. With difficulty +he raised himself on one elbow. A party of hunters and Indians were +coming in his direction. Some were carrying a stretcher formed with +rifles and the branches of trees. + +"Gold! Gold!" they shouted wildly, as they ran toward him. + +Half a dozen trappers crowded round John's prostrate form. On the +stretcher lay Bill Branigan, asleep. The leader of the party, a big, +muscular chap, with a great blond beard, pushed a whiskey flask between +Madison's clenched teeth. + +"Poor devil!" he exclaimed. "We're just in time. He was about all in." +Addressing Madison, who, with eyes starting from his head, stared up at +the newcomers with amazement, as if they were phantoms from another +world, he said: + +"We picked your mate up yonder in the mountains. He's found the biggest +gold nugget ever found in this section. There's gold everywhere." + +"Damn the gold! Give me some food!" gasped Madison. + +Then he fainted. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +The Pomona, on West ---- Street, was well known among those swell +apartment houses of Manhattan which find it profitable to cater to the +liberal-spending demi-monde, and therefore are not prone to be too +fastidious regarding the morals of their tenants. Many such hostelries +were scattered throughout the theatre district of New York, and as a +rule they prospered exceedingly well. Invariably they were of the same +type. There was the same monotonous sameness in the gaudy decorations +and furnishings; the same hilarious crowd in the cafe downstairs; the +same overdressed, over-rouged women in the elevator and halls. They +enjoyed in common the same class of patronage--blonde ladies with +lengthy visiting-lists of gentlemen callers. + +Willard Brockton occupied a suite on the sixth floor, and it was one of +the handsomest and most expensive in the hotel. It consisted of ten +large rooms and three baths. The large sitting-room in white and gold +had two windows overlooking fashionable Fifth Avenue. The furnishings +were expensive and rich, but lacked that good taste which would +naturally obtain in rooms occupied by people a little more particular +concerning their reputation and mode of life. At one end of the room a +large archway hung with tapestries led to the sleeping chambers. At the +other end a door opened onto a small private hall, which, in turn, had +another door communicating with the main corridor. The apartment was +expensively and elaborately furnished. The inlaid floors were strewn +with handsome Oriental rugs, the chairs and sofas were heavy gilt, +upholstered in crimson silk, while here and there were Louis XV writing +desks, teakwood curio cabinets, costly bronzes and statuary. The walls +were covered with valuable paintings and engravings. Near the window +stood a superb full-length Empire cheval glass, the kind that women +love to dress by and survey their beauty. + +Two months had sped quickly by since that cold, stormy day in February, +when Laura, distracted, half-starved, her spirit broken, despairing of +aid from Madison or any other decent quarter, threatened with eviction +even from Mrs. Farley's miserable lodgings, weakly surrendered, +listened to the call which summoned her back to her former life, and +once more became Brockton's mistress. + +At first the sudden transition from misery and absolute want to all the +comforts and extravagant luxuries that unlimited means can command was +so gratifying that she saw no reason to repent of the step she had +taken. On the contrary, she rejoiced that she was still pretty enough, +still young and clever enough to hold a man of Brockton's influence and +wealth. Decidedly, she thought to herself, Elfie was right. Virtue was +all very well for nice, good girls who did not mind doing chores, +practicing painful economy, wearing shabby clothes, and tiring +themselves out for small wages in petty, humiliating occupations, but +she could never stand it. She would die rather. Life would not be worth +living if she were to be always denied the sweets of life, and to her +that meant champagne suppers, gorgeous gowns, and all that goes with +them. So, banishing from her mind any unpleasant memories or regrets, +she plunged headlong into the boiling vortex of gay metropolitan life. +Thanks to Brockton, she secured one of the best parts of the expiring +theatrical season, and made such a hit that her name was in everybody's +mouth. The newspapers interviewed her, society women copied her, +toothpaste and perfume manufacturers solicited her testimonials. In a +word, she was famous overnight. Burgess, the manager, was now eager to +sign for five years, but Laura laughed, and tore up the contract before +his face. What did she care now? She had the whip hand. The managers +had neglected and despised her long enough; they could do the running +after contracts now. + +Meantime she drained the cup of pleasure to the very dregs. It was one +continual round of gaiety. She seemed insatiable. With Elfie St. Clair +and others, she formed an intimate circle of friends, a little coterie +of the swiftest men and women in town, and entertained them lavishly, +spending wilfully, recklessly. Her extravagances were soon the talk of +New York. A thousand dollars for a single midnight supper, $700 for a +new gown, $200 for a hat were as nothing. Once more she reigned as the +belle of Broadway, Almost each night, after the play, she was the +centre of an admiring throng in the pleasure resorts, and none ventured +to dispute the claim that she was the prettiest as well as the +best-dressed woman in town. Dressmakers, attracted by her matchless +figure and eager to profit by her vogue, turned out for her their +latest creations; milliners designed for her hats that were the despair +of every other woman. She had her carriages, her automobiles, and her +saddle horse, her town apartment and her bungalow by the sea, and for a +time set a pace so swift that no other woman of her acquaintance could +keep up with her. All this cost money, and a lot of it, but Brockton +gave her free rein. The broker did not care. He smiled indulgently and +footed her enormous bills without protest. On the contrary, he was +delighted. Never had she proved so fascinating a companion or attracted +so much attention in public. He was getting plenty of other people's +money in the Wall Street game, so why should he care if his mistress +spent a few thousands a year more or less? It amused him to see her +plunging, as he put it. Besides, he was proud of his protegee. It +flattered him when they entered a theatre or restaurant, Laura wearing +her $200 picture hat, to hear people whisper: "That's Brockton's girl. +Isn't she stunning?" + +She drank more champagne than was good for her, and when this happened, +Brockton himself would chide her. But she only laughed at him, and, +disregarding his rebuke, turned to the waiter and imperiously ordered +another bottle. Not that she liked the golden, hissing stuff. It made +her sick and gave her a bad headache the next morning, but still she +must drink it, drink it unceasingly. It was the only way she could +deaden that terrible, accusing conscience which persistently demanded +an accounting. With her knowledge of her own guilt and her tendency to +introspective brooding, it was only natural that her sensitive nature +suffered atrociously. All day and all night her conscience tortured +her. Incessantly it put the agonizing question: Have you been true, +true to yourself and to the man to whom you gave your word? And always +came the damning answer: "No--I've been false, miserably false, both to +myself and him." + +In her quieter moods--the moods she dreaded most--she allowed her mind +to dwell on the past. She wondered what John was doing and where he +was. Had he succeeded or had he failed? For a long time she had +received no word. On leaving Mrs. Farley's, she had left no address and +had taken no pains to have her mail forwarded. No doubt his letters had +been returned to him. Sometimes she regretted having burned the message +of farewell which Brockton had dictated. It would have been fairer, +more honest, to have told him the truth frankly. Brockton had wanted to +do the right thing, and she had lied, making him believe she had done +it. + +That was why she despised herself, and that was why she drank +champagne--so she might forget. Sometimes she took too much. One night +Elfie St. Clair celebrated her birthday by giving a supper in her +apartment. It was a jolly gathering, and they made merry until the late +hours of the morning. Laura had been particularly high spirited and +hilarious until, toward the end, her face grew deathly white. Seized +with a sudden dizziness, she had to be wrapped in furs and carried down +to her carriage. Brockton, embarrassed, declared it to be due to the +heat. Everybody present knew it was the champagne. + +But gaiety that is forced and only artificially stimulated cannot be +kept up long. One day the reaction inevitably comes, and then the +awakening is terrible, disastrous. At times, when, in company of +others, she was laughing loudly and appearing to be thoroughly enjoying +herself, she would suddenly become serious, talk no more, and go away +in the corner by herself. Her companions teased her about it, and +called such symptoms "Laura's tantrums." The truth was that each day +the girl realized more the hollowness and rottenness of the life she +was leading. She was filled with repulsion and disgust, both for +herself and her associates. While she was weak and luxury-loving, she +was not entirely devoid of character. There was enough sentimentality +and emotion in her moral fibre to make her see the impossibility of +continuing to live this irregular, vicious kind of existence. Women of +Elfie St. Clair's type could do it, because they had no innate +refinement of feeling, but she could not, and, in her saner moments, +when she thought of what she had lost, when she remembered how she had +been regenerated, purified, by her disinterested love for a good man, +she looked wistfully back on those weeks at Mrs. Farley's +boarding-house. Her attic, miserable as it was, was a haven of +happiness and respectability compared with her present degradation. + +Then, again, she had an uncomfortable idea that there was an accounting +still to be made. In her sleep she saw John Madison approaching, stern, +terrible, exacting some awful penalty, like an implacable judge. She +had a premonition of an approaching catastrophe, a feeling, vague but +nevertheless palpable, that something was going to happen. The idea +obsessed her, haunted her; she could not shake it off. She became +nervous of her own shadow. Gradually, too, she grew to dislike +Brockton. Instead of feeling gratitude for all the luxuries he gave +her, she blamed him for having made her what she was. She classed him +as the type of man who preys on woman's virtue and exults in the number +of souls he is able to destroy. She looked upon him as responsible for +all her troubles, for her degradation and sacrifice of her womanhood. +He was the eternal enemy of her sex, the arch tempter, the anti-christ. +Her mind became obsessed with this idea, and a savage, unreasoning hate +for him and all his kind sprang up in her heart. + +Meantime, things pursued the even tenor of their way, at least +outwardly. Brockton was careless, indifferent, good natured as usual. +Laura was seemingly as gay and carefree as ever. None saw the ripples +on the apparently serene surface, except, perhaps, one pair of black +eyes which, always spying, never missed anything. Annie guessed her +mistress' thoughts, but was shrewd enough to hold her tongue. The +negress, promoted from the rank of maid of all work at Mrs. Farley's +establishment, had been elevated to the dignity of lady's maid. Laura +never liked the negress, but well aware of the difficulty she might +have in finding a servant, she accepted her voluntary offer to follow +when she went with Brockton. The woman knew her ways, and in some +respects was a good servant--at least as faithful and honest as any she +could expect to get, which was not, of course, saying a great deal. But +smart as she was, the negress never quite succeeded in deceiving her +young mistress. Laura never trusted her further than she could see her. +A hundred times, her patience tried to the limit, she had discharged +her. + +"You'll go in the morning, Annie." + +"Yassum!" + +But somehow Annie always stayed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +Late one morning Laura and Brockton were seated at the little table in +the parlor, having breakfast together. They had been out the night +before, at a big supper given by some friends, and had only got home in +the small hours. Laura, attired in an expensive negligee gown, sat at +one side of the table, pouring out the coffee; Brockton, in a gray +business suit, sat opposite, carelessly scanning the _Wall Street +Messenger_. Neither spoke and both looked tired and out of sorts. +Brockton was as fond of champagne suppers as anyone, but he was not +getting any younger. They did not agree with his constitution as they +used to, with the result that he was generally out of humor the next +day. + +While he and his companion toyed listlessly with the silver-plated +dishes in front of them, Annie busied herself about the room, trying to +put it in order. Everything lay about just as it had been thrown the +night before. The place looked as if a cyclone had devastated a +second-hand clothing store. In the alcove a man's dress coat and vest +were thrown carelessly on the cushions; a silk hat, badly rumpled, was +near it. An opera cloak had been flung on the sofa, and on a chair was +a huge picture hat with costly feathers. A pair of women's gloves were +thrown over the cheval glass. The curtains in the bay window were +half-drawn, filling the room with a rather dim light. Laura preferred +it so. She did not wish Brockton to see the ravages which late hours +and overabundance of rich foods were making on her complexion. She +still had some feminine vanity left. + +With a grunt and gesture of annoyance, Brockton threw his paper aside. +Looking around, he demanded impatiently: + +"Have you seen the _Recorder_, Laura?" + +His companion was engrossed in the theatrical gossip of the _Morning +Chronicle_. Without looking up, she replied indifferently: + +"No." + +"Where is it?" he growled. + +"I don't know," she answered calmly, still intent on her own paper. + +Brockton began to lose his temper, as he did easily when not feeling +just right. Not daring to vent his ill humor on his _vis a vis_, he +looked around for the colored maid. Loudly he called: + +"Annie----! Annie----!! Annie!!!" In a savage undertone, half directed +at Laura, he growled: "Where the devil is that lazy nigger?" + +Laura looked up, a mild expression of indignant surprise on her face. +Quietly she said: + +"I suppose she's gone to get her breakfast." + +"Well, she ought to be here," he snapped. + +"Did it ever occur to you," said Laura quickly, "that she has got to +eat, just the same as you have?" + +"She's your servant, isn't she?" he barked. + +"My maid," she corrected, with difficulty controlling herself. + +"Well, what have you got her for--to eat, or to wait on you?" Again he +thundered: "Annie!" + +"Don't be so cross," protested Laura. "What do you want?" + +"I want the paper," he growled, pouring out one half-glass of water +from a bottle. + +"I will get it for you," she said, with quiet dignity. + +Wearily she got up and went to the table where there were other morning +papers. Taking the _Recorder_, she handed it to him, and, returning to +her seat, reopened the _Chronicle_. He relapsed into a sulky silence, +and for a few minutes there was peace. Suddenly Annie entered the room +from the sleeping apartments. + +"Do yuh want me, suh?" she asked, with the ludicrous grin characteristic +of her race. + +"Yes!" snapped the broker. "I did want you, but don't now. When I'm at +home I have a man to look after me, and I get what I want----" + +Laura looked up angrily. Her patience was exhausted. + +"For Heaven's sake, Will, have a little patience!" she said. "If you +like your man so well, you had better live at home, but don't come +around here with a grouch and bulldoze everybody----" + +"Don't think for a moment that there's much to come around here for. +Annie, this room's stuffy." + +"Yassuh." + +"Draw those _portieres_. Let those curtains up. Let's have a little +light. Take away those clothes and hide them. Don't you know that a man +doesn't want to see the next morning anything to remind him of the +night before? Make the place look a little respectable." + +Annie stood in considerable awe of Brockton. In fact, she was afraid of +him, so she did not stand on the order of going. She scurried around, +and after picking up the coat and vest, opera cloak and other things, +threw them over her arm without any idea of order. + +"Be careful!" angrily shouted the irate broker, who was watching her. +"You're not taking the wash off the line." + +"Yassuh!" + +The negress literally flew out of the room. Laura put down her +newspaper. + +"I must say you're rather amiable this morning," she said pointedly. + +Brockton turned his head away. + +"I feel like h--ll," he growled. + +"Market unsatisfactory?" she inquired. + +"No, head too big." Lighting a cigar, he took a puff and then made a +wry face. Putting the offending weed into the empty cup, he said, with +another grimace: "Tastes like punk." + +"You drank a lot," she said unconcernedly. + +He nodded. + +"Yes--we'll have to cut out these parties. I can't do those things any +more. I'm not as young as I was, and in the morning it makes me sick." +Looking up at her, he added. "How do you feel?" + +She rose from the breakfast table and sat down at a small _escritoire_. + +"A little tired, that's all," she said languidly. + +"You didn't touch anything, did you?" + +"No." + +"That's right--you've been taking too much lately. It was a great old +party, though, wasn't it?" + +Laura yawned and gazed listlessly out of the window. + +"Do you think so?" + +Not noticing her expression of wearied disgust, he went on: + +"Yes, for that sort of a blow-out. Not too rough, but just a little +easy. I like them at night, but I hate them in the morning. Were you +bored?" + +Picking up his newspaper, he started to glance over it carelessly. +Still staring idly into the street, she answered laconically: + +"I'm always bored by such things as that." + +"You don't have to go." + +"You asked me." + +"Still, you could say no." + +Rising, she stooped and picked up a newspaper which had fallen on the +floor. Placing it on the breakfast table, she returned to her seat at +the desk. + +"But you asked me," she insisted. + +"What did you go for if you didn't want to?" + +"_You_ wanted me to." + +"I don't quite get you," he said impatiently. + +"Well, it's just this, Will--you have all my time when I'm not in the +theatre, and you can do with it just what you please. You pay for it. +I'm working for you." + +He looked up at her quickly. Something in the tone of her voice warned +him that there was a scene coming, and he hated scenes. But he could +not resist inquiring sarcastically: + +"Is that all I've got--just your time?" + +"That and--the rest," she replied bitterly. + +Looking at her curiously, he said: + +"Down in the mouth, eh? I'm sorry." + +"No," she retorted, her mouth quivering at the corners; "only, if you +want me to be frank, I'm a little tired. You may not believe it, but I +work awfully hard over at the theatre. Burgess will tell you that. I +know I'm not so very good as an actress, but I try to be. I'd like to +succeed myself. They're very patient with me. Of course, they've got to +be--that's another thing you're paying for; but I don't seem to get +along except this way." + +Brockton shrugged his shoulders impatiently. + +"Oh, don't get sentimental," he said testily. "If you're going to bring +up that sort of talk, Laura, do it some time when I haven't got a +hang-over, and then, don't forget, talk never does count for much." + +Rising and going to the mirror, Laura picked up a hat from a box, put +it on, and looked at herself in the mirror. She turned around and +looked at her companion steadfastly for a moment without speaking. It +was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the truth there and then, tell +him she had lied about mailing the letter to Madison, and that she had +been miserable ever since; tell him that this rotten, artificial life +disgusted and degraded her, that she was sick of it and of him. But she +had not the courage. + +Meantime, Brockton, left to himself, went on perusing the paper more +carefully. Suddenly he stopped and looked at his watch. + +"What time is it?" inquired Laura. + +"After ten." + +"Aren't you ever going out?" she demanded crossly. + +Deeply engrossed in his paper, the broker made no answer. His eye had +just been attracted to an item which particularly interested him. It +was a despatch from Chicago, and read as follows: + + "A story has reached here of an extraordinary gold find just made + in Nevada by two lucky prospectors. The men set out from Goldfield + several weeks ago, and got lost in the mountains. After enduring + terrible privations, and almost perishing in the blizzard, they + were found in last extremity by a party of hunters. They had + actually discovered gold, having accidentally stumbled on one of + the richest ore deposits in the gold region. A nugget of enormous + size was brought in by the rescuing party in support of their + well-nigh incredible story. The prospectors quickly recovered from + their terrible experience, and one of them, named John Madison, is + now on his way East for the purpose of organizing a syndicate which + will begin at once large operations in the Nevada gold fields. + Rumor has it that Mr. Madison will also bring back a bride." + +Brockton caught his breath and looked sharply over at Laura. Did she +know about this? Was it the explanation of her petulance and +discontented attitude? That fellow Madison was now a man of means. The +coincidence of the despatch brought back to the broker's mind the night +scene on the terrace in Denver, and later their conversation at the +boarding house in New York, and with the subtle intuition of the shrewd +man of the world, he at once connected the two. Eyeing his companion +keenly and suspiciously, he said: + +"I don't suppose, Laura, that you'd be interested now in knowing +anything about that young fellow out in Colorado? What was his +name--Madison?" + +The girl started and changed color. + +"Do you know anything?" she said quickly. + +"No, nothing particularly," he replied, with affected carelessness. +"I've been rather curious to know how he came out. He was a pretty +fresh young man, and did an awful lot of talking. I wonder how he's +doing and how he's getting along. I don't suppose by any chance you +have ever heard from him?" + +She shook her head. + +"No, no; I've never heard." + +"I presume he never replied to that letter you wrote?" + +"No." + +"It would be rather queer, eh, if this young fellow should happen to +come across a lot of money--not that I think he ever could, but it +would be funny, wouldn't it?" + +"Yes, yes," she said quickly; "it would be unexpected. I hope he does. +It might make him happy." + +"Think he might take a trip East and see you act? You know you've got +quite a part now." + +Laura tossed back her head impatiently. Petulantly she said: + +"I wish you wouldn't discuss him. Why do you mention it now? Is it +because you were drinking last night, and lost your sense of delicacy? +You once had some consideration for me. What I've done I've done. I'm +giving _you_ all that I can. Please, please, don't hurt me any more +than you can help. That's all I ask." + +Brockton rose, and, going over to her, placed his hands on her +shoulders and his cheek close to the back of her head. He was sorry he +had spoken so sharply. In his gruff way he was as fond of her as ever, +but he could not help it if he sometimes felt under the weather. + +"You know, dearie," he said kindly, "I do a lot for you because you've +always been on the level with me. I'm sorry I hurt you, but there was +too much wine last night, and I'm all upset. Forgive me." + +He tried to kiss her, to make up, but she averted her head. Holding +herself aloof, she shuddered. A feeling of repulsion passed through +her. Perhaps never so much as now had she realized that this kind of +life was becoming more intolerable every hour. + +In order to avoid his caresses, Laura had leaned forward. Her hands +clasped between her knees, she gazed straight past him, with a cold, +impassive expression. Brockton looked at her silently for a moment. The +man was really fond of her; he wanted to try and comfort her, but of +late a wall seemed to have risen between them. He realized now that she +had slipped away from the old environment and conditions. He had +brought her back, but he had regained none of her affection. With all +his money, their old _camaraderie_ was gone forever. These and other +thoughts hurt him as such things always hurt a selfish, egotistical +man, inclining him to be brutal and inconsiderate. + +As they both remained there in silence, the front door bell rang, first +gently and then more violently. Brockton went to open. Before he could +reach it there was another ring. The caller, whoever it was, seemed in +a good deal of a hurry. + +"D----n that bell!" exclaimed the broker. + +He opened the parlor door and passed out into the private hall, so he +could open the door leading into the public corridor. Laura remained +seated where she was, immovable and impassive, with the same cold, hard +expression on her face. When, she pondered, would she be able to summon +up courage enough to tell Brockton the truth--that she detested him and +his set and loathed herself? Why had he mentioned John just now? Could +he have read her thoughts and guessed of whom she had been thinking? + +Presently the outer door slammed loudly, and Brockton re-entered the +room, holding a telegram in his hand. + +"A wire," he said briefly. + +Laura started forward. + +"For me?" she exclaimed. + +"Yes." + +She looked surprised. + +"From whom, I wonder? Perhaps Elfie, with a luncheon engagement." + +"I don't know," he said indifferently, handing her the closed yellow +envelope. + +As she broke it open and hastily read the contents, he watched her face +closely. She gasped involuntarily as she caught sight of the signature, +but by a great effort managed to control herself. Outwardly calm and +self-possessed, she silently read the message, which was dated Buffalo, +the night before, and ran as follows: + + "MY OWN DARLING: + + "I have been through the shadow of the valley, but have won out. + To-day I am rich. Isn't it glorious? I am the happiest man on + earth. I shall be in New York before noon to-morrow. I am coming to + marry you, and I'm coming with a bank-roll. I wanted to keep it + secret, and have a big surprise for you, but I can't hold it any + longer, because I feel just like a kid with a new top. Don't go + out. I'll be with you early. + + "JOHN." + +She crushed the telegram up in her hand, and crossed the room so he +should not see her face. John was coming back--a rich man. He was +coming back to claim her. Great God! What could she say to him? + +"No bad news, I hope?" said Brockton suspiciously. + +"No, no--not bad news," she replied hastily. + +"I thought you appeared startled." + +"No, not at all," she stammered. + +Brockton sat down and picked up the newspaper again. Carelessly he +asked: + +"From Elfie?" + +"No--just a friend." + +"Oh!" + +He sat down again, making himself comfortable in the armchair. Laura, +in an agony of suspense, growing momentarily more nervous, watched him +sideways, wondering how she could get rid of him, hoping he would soon +go out. It would never do for John to come and find him there. With two +men of such violent temper, already jealous to the breaking point, +there was no telling what terrible tragedy might happen. Besides, she +was anxious to be alone, so she might think out some plan of action. +Something must be done at once. It was near eleven already. John would +reach New York about noon; he would probably seek her out at once. She +could reasonably expect him that very afternoon. A cold chill ran +through her at the thought. What would she say to him? Get rid of +Brockton she must at all costs. Timidly she asked: + +"Won't you be rather late getting down town, Will?" + +Without lifting his head, he answered carelessly: + +"Doesn't make any difference. I don't feel much like the office now. +Thought I might order the car and take a spin through the park. The +cold air will do me a lot of good. Like to go?" + +"No, not to-day," she replied hastily. A silence followed, and then she +went on: "I thought your business was important; you said so last +night." + +"No hurry," he answered. Suddenly turning and looking up at her, he +asked searchingly: "Do you--er--want to get rid of me?" + +"Why should I?" she demanded, with pretended surprise. + +"Expecting some one?" he demanded. + +"No--not exactly," she replied hesitatingly. + +Turning her back on him, she went to the window, and stood there, +gazing out into the street. Brockton watched her for a moment; then, +with a covert smile, he said dryly: + +"If you don't mind, I'll stay here." + +Laura left the window, and coming back into the room, sat down at the +piano. + +"Just as you please," she said, realizing that he was watching her, and +trying her utmost to appear unconcerned. After playing a few bars, she +stopped and said in a more conciliatory tone: + +"Will?" + +"Yes." + +"How long does it take to come from Buffalo?" + +"Depends on the train," he answered laconically. + +"About how long?" she persisted. + +"Between eight and ten hours, I think." Looking up, he asked: "Some one +coming?" + +Ignoring his question, she asked: + +"Do you know anything about the trains?" + +"Not much. Why don't you find out for yourself? Have Annie get the +timetable." + +"I will," she said. + +Leaving the piano, she went to the door and called: + +"Annie! Annie!" + +The negress appeared on the threshold. + +"Yassum!" + +"Go ask one of the hall-boys to bring me a New York Central timetable." + +"Yassum!" + +The maid crossed the room, and disappeared through another door. Laura, +with forced nonchalance, seated herself on the arm of the sofa, humming +a popular air. Brockton turned and faced her. + +"Then you _do_ expect some one, eh?" he exclaimed. + +Her heart was in her throat, but she remained outwardly calm as she +replied carelessly: + +"Only one of the girls who used to be in the same company with me. But +I'm not sure that she's coming here." + +"Then the wire was from her?" + +"Yes." + +"Did she say what train she was coming on?" + +"No." + +"Well, there are a lot of trains. About what time did you expect her +in?" + +"She didn't say." + +"Do I know her?" + +"I think not. I met her while I worked in 'Frisco." + +"Oh!" + +He resumed reading his paper, and the next moment Annie re-entered with +a timetable. + +"Thanks," said Laura, taking it. Then, pointing to the breakfast table, +she said: "Now take those things away, Annie." + +The maid started in to gather up the dishes, while her mistress became +engrossed in a deep study of the timetable. Soon Annie left the room +with the loaded tray, and Laura looked up in despair. + +"I can't make this out," she cried. + +Brockton looked up and held out his hand. + +"Give it here; maybe I can help you." + +She rose, and, approaching the table, handed him the timetable, a +diabolical labyrinth of incomprehensible figures and words specially +compiled by railroad managers to puzzle and befog the traveling public. +But Brockton, from long practice, seemed familiar with its mysteries. + +"Where is she coming from?" he demanded, as he quickly turned over the +leaves. + +"The West," she answered promptly. "The telegram was from Buffalo. I +suppose she was on her way when she sent it." + +Brockton had found the right page, and was busy calculating the time +made by the different trains. + +"There's a train comes in here at nine-thirty--that's the Twentieth +Century. That doesn't carry passengers from Buffalo. Then there's one +at eleven-forty-one. One at one-forty-nine. Another at three-forty-five. +Another at five-forty and another at five-forty-eight. That's the Lake +Shore Limited, a fast train; and all pass through Buffalo. Did you +think of meeting her?" + +"No, she'll come here when she arrives." + +"She knows where you live?" + +"She has the address." + +"Ever been to New York before?" + +"I think not." + +He passed back the timetable. + +"Well, that's the best I can do for you." + +"Thank you." + +She took the timetable and placed it in the desk. Brockton, who had +taken up his paper again, gave an exclamation of surprise. + +"By George--this is funny." + +"What?" she demanded, looking impatiently at the clock. + +"Speak of the devil, you know." + +"Who?" + +"Your old friend--John Madison." + +Laura started involuntarily. She became deathly pale, and put her head +on the chair-back to steady herself. Controlling her agitation by a +supreme effort, she said: + +"What--what about him?" + +"He's been in Chicago." + +"How do you know?" + +Brockton held out the newspaper. + +"Here's a dispatch about him." + +She came quickly forward and looked over the broker's shoulder. Her +voice was trembling with suppressed excitement, as she said: + +"What--where--what's it about?" + +Brockton chuckled. Holding out the paper so she could see, and watching +her face closely, he went on: + +"I'm damned if he hasn't done what he said he'd do--see! He's been in +Chicago, and is on his way to New York. He's struck it rich in Nevada, +and is coming with a pot of money. Queer, isn't it? Did you know +anything about it?" + +"No, no; nothing at all," she said, laying the paper aside and +returning to her former place near the piano. Her face was drawn and +white, and there was a hard, metallic note perceptible in her voice. + +"Lucky for him, eh?" said the broker. + +"Yes, yes; it's very nice." + +"Too bad he couldn't get this a little sooner, eh, Laura?" + +"Oh, I don't know," she said, with a forced laugh. "I don't think it's +too bad. What makes you say that?" + +"Oh, nothing. I suppose he ought to be here to-day. Are you going to +see him if he looks you up?" + +"No, no," she replied quickly; "I don't want to see him. You know that, +don't you--that I don't want to see him? What makes you ask these +questions?" + +Brockton shrugged his shoulders. + +"Just thought you might meet him, that's all. Don't get sore about it." + +"I'm not." + +She still held John's telegram crumpled in one hand. Brockton put down +his paper, and regarded her curiously. She saw the expression on his +face, and, reading its meaning, averted her head in order not to meet +his eye. + +"What are you looking at me that way for?" she demanded hotly. + +"I wasn't conscious that I was looking at you in any particular way. +Why?" + +"Oh, nothing. I guess I'm nervous, too." + +"I dare say you are." + +"Yes, I am." + +Brockton rose slowly from his chair. Crossing over to where she sat, he +stood with folded arms, looking her squarely in the face. There was a +hard look in his eyes, a determined expression around his mouth. He was +in one of his obstinate, ungovernable tempers, and Laura knew at once +by his manner that a critical moment was at hand. He began ominously: + +"You know I don't want to delve into a lot of past history at this +time, but I've got to talk to you for a moment." + +She rose quickly, and, going to the other side of the room, pretended +to be busy. Nervously, she said: + +"Why don't you do it some other time? I don't want to be talked to just +now." + +He followed her, and, in the same, hard, determined tone, said firmly: + +"But I've got to do it, just the same." + +Trying to affect an attitude of resigned patience and resignation, +Laura shrugged her shoulders and resumed her seat on the sofa. + +"Well, what is it?" she said. + +He looked at her in silence for a moment, as if not quite sure how to +begin. Then, quietly, he said: + +"You've always been on the square with me, Laura. That's why I've liked +you a lot better than the other women----" + +She stirred restlessly on her seat, and began to polish her +finger-nails. Peevishly, she said: + +"Are you going into all that again this morning. I thought we +understood each other." + +"So did I," he replied bitterly; "but somehow, I think that we _don't_ +quite understand each other." + +She looked up, as if surprised. + +"In what way?" + +Looking steadily at her, he went on: + +"That letter I dictated to you the day that you came back to me and +left for you to mail--did you mail it?" + +For a sixteenth of a second she hesitated. Should she go on lying, or +stop right now and confess everything? She dare not. She had not the +courage. Positively, decisively, almost indignantly, she answered: + +"Yes--of course. Why do you ask?" + +He eyed her keenly, trying to penetrate her thoughts. + +"You're quite sure?" + +"Yes, I'm quite sure." With an effrontery that surprised herself, she +added: "I wouldn't say so if I wasn't." + +"And you didn't know Madison was coming East until you read about it in +that newspaper?" + +"No--no--I didn't know." + +"Have you heard from him?" + +Again an opportunity presented itself to tell the truth, and again her +courage failed her. + +"No--no--I haven't heard from him." Peevishly, she exclaimed: "Don't +talk to me about this thing. Why can't you leave me alone? I'm +miserable enough, as it is." + +She walked away, with the idea of leaving the room, but quickly he +intercepted her. Sternly, he said: + +"But I've got to talk to you. Laura, you're lying to me." + +"What!" + +She made a valiant effort to seem angry, but Brockton was too old a +bird to be deceived. Raising his voice in anger he exclaimed: + +"You're lying to me, and you've been lying to me all along! Like a fool +I've trusted you. Show me that telegram!" + +"No," she said defiantly. + +She retreated into a far corner. He followed her. + +"Show me that telegram!" he commanded. + +"You've no right to ask me," she exclaimed hotly. + +Before he could prevent it, she had torn the telegram in half and run +to the window. Before she could throw the pieces out, he had caught her +by the arm. Livid with rage, he almost shouted: + +"Are you going to make me take it away from you? I've never laid my +hands on you yet." + +"It's my business!" she cried in desperation. + +"Yes, and it's mine!" he retorted, trying to seize the fragments. + +Her face flushed from the struggle, now furiously angry, she fought him +with all her strength. They battled all over the room. Finally he +backed her against the dresser, and she was powerless to resist +further. He put out his hand to seize the torn pieces of the telegram, +which she had stuffed inside her waist. + +"That telegram's from Madison," he cried hotly. "Give it here!" + +"No!" she exclaimed, white as death, and still defiant. + +"I'm going to find out where I stand," he cried. "Give me that +telegram, or I'll take it away from you." + +"No!" + +"Come on!" he said savagely, his teeth clenched, his face white from +furious jealousy. + +The struggle was unequal. He was the stronger. Further resistance was +futile. + +"All right," she said breathlessly; "I'll give it to you." + +Slowly, she drew the pieces out of her bosom, and handed them to him. +He took them, and, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, slowly smoothed them +out, and pieced them together so that he could read the dispatch. When, +at last, he began to read, she staggered back apprehensively. + +He read it slowly, deliberately. When he had finished, he looked up. +Sternly, he said: + +"Then you knew?" + +"Yes," she faltered. + +"But you didn't know he was coming until he arrived?" + +"No." + +"And you didn't mail the letter, did you?" + +"No----" + +His face turned livid with rage. Clenching his fists menacingly, he +advanced towards her. + +"What did you do with it?" he thundered. + +Shrinking from him, afraid of his violence, she replied faintly: + +"I--I burned it." + +"Why?" he shouted, in a fury. + +Dazed, bewildered, almost hysterical, Laura was unable to answer. He +advanced until he almost stood over her, his arm raised threateningly, +as if about to strike her. She cowered before him. + +"Why--why?" he repeated hoarsely. + +Almost in tears, she murmured weakly: + +"I--I couldn't help it. I simply couldn't help it." + +Folding his arms he looked down at her with an expression in which pity +was mingled with contempt. A straightforward man himself, he had no +patience with lying. He could forgive her lying--it was natural to +her--but she had made him appear a liar. With a sweeping gesture of his +hand, which took in the whole room, and its luxurious contents, he +said: + +"And he doesn't know about us?" + +"No." + +Thoroughly exasperated, he again advanced towards her, his face +distorted with rage. + +"By God!" he exclaimed. "I never beat a woman in my life, but I feel as +though I could wring your neck!" + +White-faced, trembling, she stared at him helplessly. Hysterically, she +cried: + +"Why don't you? You have done everything else. Why don't you?" + +"Don't you know," he continued furiously, "that I gave Madison my word +that if you came back to me I'd let him know? Don't you know that I +like that young fellow, and I wanted to protect him, and did everything +I could to help him? And do you know what you've done to me? You've +made me out a liar--you've made me lie to a man--a man--you understand! +What are you going to do now? Tell me--what are you going to do now? +Don't stand there as if you've lost your voice--how are you going to +square me?" + +Summoning up all her courage, she faced him, calmly, defiantly. + +"I'm not thinking about squaring _you_," she said ironically. "What am +I going to do for _him_?" + +"Not what _you_ are going to do for him," he retorted. "What am _I_ +going to do for him? Why, I wouldn't have that young fellow think that +I tricked him into this thing for you or all the rest of the women of +your kind on earth. Good God! I might have known that you, and the +others like you, couldn't be square." + +She made no answer. The attitude of hostility and defiance had gone. +She looked at him silently, pleadingly, like some helpless dumb animal +trying to placate its master's wrath. Brockton glanced at his watch, +walked over to the window and then came back to where she stood. +Shaking his fist at her, he muttered: + +"You've made a nice mess of it, haven't you?" + +"There isn't any mess," she answered weakly. "Please go away. He'll be +here soon. Please let _me_ see him--please do that." + +"No," he replied doggedly, "I'll wait. This time I'm going to tell him +myself, and I don't care how tough it is." + +Frightened at this suggestion, which might be so full of dire +consequences, she was instantly galvanized into action. Starting up +again, she cried: + +"No, you mustn't do that!" Approaching him, she said pleadingly: "Oh, +Will, I'm not offering any excuse. I'm not saying anything, but I'm +telling you the truth. I couldn't give him up--I couldn't do it. I love +him." + +Shrugging his shoulders he made an ironical exclamation: + +"Huh!" + +"Don't you think so?" she went on piteously. "I know you can't see what +I see, but I do. And why can't you go away? Why can't you leave me +this? It's all I ever had. He doesn't know. No one will ever tell him. +I'll take him away. It's the best for him--it's the best for me. Please +go." + +He laughed, and, going back to the armchair, deliberately reseated +himself. Ignoring her tearful pleading, he said scornfully: + +"Why--do you think that I'm going to let you trip him the way you +tripped me? No. I'm going to stay right here until that man arrives, +and I'm going to tell him that it wasn't my fault. You alone were to +blame." + +She listened blankly, staring at him in a bewildered, dazed sort of +way. Her face was white as death, and her hands twisted convulsively. +Slowly, with a half-stifled sob, she cried: + +[Illustration: SHE SANK DOWN ON HER KNEES BESIDE HIM. + _Page 273._] + +"Then you are going to let him know?" she said slowly. "You're not +going to give me a single, solitary chance?" + +The plaintive tone in her voice touched him. He hated such scenes, and +would willingly have overlooked anything to avoid one. But there was a +limit to a man's patience. Perhaps, however, he had been a bit brutal. +He did not trust himself to look up, but his voice was less harsh as he +replied: + +"I'll give you every chance that you deserve when he knows. Then he can +do as he pleases, but there must be no more deception, that's flat." + +Approaching the chair in which he sat, she laid a hand on his shoulder. +Gently, she said: + +"Then you must let me tell him." + +Brockton turned away impatiently. She sank down on her knees beside +him. + +"Yes--you must," she went on imploringly. "If I didn't tell him before +I'll do it now. You must go. If you ever had any regard for me--if you +ever had any affection--if you ever had any friendship, please let me +do this now. I want you to go--you can come back. Then you'll +see--you'll know--only I want to try to make him understand that--that +maybe if I'm weak I'm not vicious. I want to let him know that I didn't +want to do it, but I couldn't help it. Just give me the chance to be as +good as I can be----" + +Brockton turned and looked straight at her. She did not flinch under +his severe, critical gaze. Impulsively, coaxingly, she went on: + +"Oh, I promise you I will tell him, and then--then I don't care what +happens--only he must learn everything from me--please--please, let me +do this--it's the last favor I shall ever--ever ask of you. Won't you?" + +This last appeal, uttered hysterically, was followed by a flood of +weeping. She had controlled herself as long as she could, but at last +her nerves could not stand the strain, and she broke down completely. +Brockton rose, and for a moment stood watching, as if mentally debating +himself what was the best thing to do. Finally, he said: + +"All right; I won't be unkind. I'll be back early this afternoon, but +remember--this time you'll have to go right through to the end." With a +significant warning gesture, he added: "Understand?" + +Drying her eyes, she said hastily: + +"Yes, I'll do it--all of it Won't you please go--now?" + +"All right," he replied. + +The broker disappeared into the bedroom and almost immediately entered +again with overcoat on his arm and hat in hand. He went towards the +door without speaking. At the threshold he halted and, looking back at +her, said firmly: + +"I am sorry for you, Laura, but remember--you've got to tell the +truth." + +"Please go," she cried almost hysterically. + +He went out, closing the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +With a sigh of intense relief, Laura sank utterly exhausted into the +armchair which Brockton had vacated. + +Everything had come so suddenly that the girl's brain was all awhirl. +John might arrive any moment. She must decide at once on what was to be +done. What could she say to him? How much did she wish to say; how much +would he believe? Was it possible that Providence had relented, and +that, after all, she was to be truly happy, marry the only man she had +ever truly, unselfishly loved, and still have all those luxuries which +she could not live without? John was now a rich man. That made all the +difference in the world. It would not make her love him any the more, +but, as a rich man's wife, as _his_ wife, she knew she would be truly +happy. She might have married him, even if he had been unsuccessful and +returned to her penniless, but would their happiness have lasted, could +their love have survived all the hardships which poverty brings in its +train? Of course, she could not tell him about Brockton. He was not the +kind of man she dare tell it to. He would never forgive her; he might +even kill her. No, she must go on lying to the end, until she was +safely married, and then she would turn over a new leaf altogether. +While she sat there, her elbows between her knees, her chin on her +hands, engrossed in thought, Annie entered and began to dust the room. +Laura watched her in moody silence for a few minutes. Then she said: + +"Annie!" + +"Yassum." + +"Do you remember in the boarding-house--when we finally packed up--what +you did with everything?" + +"Yassum." + +"You remember that I used to keep a pistol?" + +"Yo' mean dat one yo' say dat gemman out West gave yuh once?" + +"Yes." + +"Yassum, Ah 'membuh it." + +"Where is it now?" + +"Last Ah saw of it was in dis heah draw' in de writin'-desk." + +Crossing to the other side of the room, the negress opened the desk and +began to fumble among a lot of old papers. Finally she drew out a +small, thirty-two calibre revolver, which she held out gingerly. + +"Is dis it?" + +Laura turned and looked. + +"Yes," she said quickly. "Put it back. I thought that perhaps it was +lost." + +Annie had no sooner replaced the weapon in the drawer when the front +door-bell rang. Laura turned pale and started to her feet. Could that +be John? Instinctively, she gathered her negligee gown closer to her +frail, trembling figure, and, hurrying to the mirror, put those little +finishing touches to her hair which no woman, jealous of her personal +appearance, would think of neglecting, even though the house was on +fire. She was so unstrung and agitated that she could hardly stand; she +had to hold the table with one hand to maintain her balance. She could +not articulate; her voice stuck in her throat. + +"See--who--that is--and let me know," she gasped. + +"Yassum." + +The maid went out into the private hall and opened the door. +Immediately was heard the voice of Elfie St. Clair. + +"Hello, Annie. Folks in?" + +"Yassum; she's in." + +Laura breathed more freely, and ran to greet her friend, who bounced +in, smiling and good-natured. Elfie was beautifully gowned in a morning +dress, with an over-abundance of trimmings and all the furbelows that +generally accompany the extravagant raiment affected by women of her +type. Advancing effusively, she exclaimed: + +"Hello, dearie!" + +"Hello, Elfie!" said Laura, unable to conceal how genuinely glad she +was to see her friend. + +"It's a bully day out," said Elfie, looking at herself in the mirror. +"I've been shopping all morning long; just blew myself until I'm broke, +that's all. My goodness, don't you ever get dressed? Listen--talk about +cinches! I copped out a gown, all ready made. It fits me like the paper +on the wall for thirty-seven and one-half dollars. Looks like it might +have cost $200. Anyway, I had them charge $200 on the bill, and I kept +the change. There are two or three more down there, and I want you to +go down and look them over. Models, you know, being sold out. My--how +you look this morning! You've got great black circles round your eyes. +I don't blame you for not getting up earlier." + +Sitting down at the table without noticing Laura further, she rattled +on: + +"That was some party last night! I know you didn't drink a great deal, +but gee! what an awful tide Will had on! How do you feel?" Stopping +short in her prattle, and looking at her friend, she exclaimed with +concern: "What's the matter, are you sick? You look all in. What you +want to do is this--put on your duds and go out for an hour. It's a +perfectly grand day out. My Gaud! How the sun does shine! Clear and +cold. Well, much obliged for the conversation. Don't I get a +'Good-morning,' or a 'How-dy-do,' or a something of that sort?" + +"I'm tired, Elfie, and blue--terribly blue." + +The caller rose, and, going up to her friend, said: + +"Well, now, you just brace up and cut out all that emotional stuff. I +came down to take you for a drive. You'd like it; just through the +park. Will you go?" + +"Not this morning, dear; I'm expecting somebody." + +"A man?" + +In spite of herself, Laura could not restrain a smile. + +"No--a gentleman," she corrected. + +"Same thing. Do I know him?" + +"I think you do." + +"Well, don't be so mysterious. Who is he?" + +Ignoring the question, Laura asked anxiously: + +"What is your time, Elfie?" + +The girl looked at her watch. "Five minutes past eleven." + +"I'm slow," exclaimed Laura. "I didn't know it was so late. Just excuse +me, won't you, while I get some clothes on. He may be here any moment." +Going to the end of the room, where the heavy _portieres_ separated the +parlor from the sitting-room, she called out: "Annie!" + +"Who is it?" insisted Elfie. + +"I'll tell you when I get dressed. Make yourself at home, won't you, +dear?" + +"I'd sooner hear," replied Elfie. "What is the scandal, anyway?" + +"I'll tell you in a moment," laughed Laura; "just as soon as Annie gets +through with me." + +She went out, leaving her visitor alone. Elfie, left to herself, +wandered about the room. Finding a candy box on the desk, she helped +herself to the sugared contents. Aloud, she said: + +"Do you know, Laura, I think I'll go back on the stage?" + +"Yes?" came the answer from the inner room. + +"Yes," went on Elfie, "I'm afraid I'll have to. I think I need a sort +of a boost to my popularity." + +"How a boost?" + +"I think Jerry is getting cold feet. He's seeing a little too much of +me nowadays." + +"What makes you think that?" + +"I think he is getting a relapse of that front-row habit. There's no +use in talking, Laura, it's a great thing for a girl's credit when a +man like Jerry can take two or three friends to the theatre, and when +you make your entrance delicately point to you with his forefinger, and +say: 'The third one from the front on the left belongs to muh.' The old +fool's hanging around some of these musical comedies lately, and I'm +getting nervous every time rent day comes." + +Laura laughed incredulously. She had too high an opinion of her +friend's business ability to believe the danger very serious. +Pointedly, she said: + +"Oh, I guess you'll get along all right." + +Elfie rose, and, going to the mirror, gave her hat and hair a few deft +little touches, after which she surveyed herself critically. With +serene self-satisfaction, she said: + +"Oh, that's a cinch! But I like to leave well enough alone, and if I +had to make a change right now it would require a whole lot of thought +and attention, to say nothing of the inconvenience, and I'm so nicely +settled in my flat." Suddenly her eye lighted on the pianola. Going to +it, she exclaimed: "Say, dearie, when did you get the piano-player? I +got one of them phonographs, but this has got that beat a city block. +How does it work? What did it cost?" + +"I don't know," laughed Laura. + +"Well, Jerry's got to stake me to one of these." Looking over the rolls +on top, she mumbled to herself: "Tannhauser, William Tell, Chopin." +Louder, she said: "Listen, dear. Ain't you got anything else except all +this high-brow stuff?" + +"What do you want?" + +"Oh, something with a regular tune to it." Looking at the empty box on +the pianola, she exclaimed: "Oh, here's one; just watch me tear this +off." + +The roll was the ragtime tune of "_Bon-Bon Buddy--My Chocolate Drop_." +She started to play. Pushing wide open the _tempo_ lever she worked the +pedals with the ingenuous delight and enthusiasm of a child. + +"Ain't it grand?" she cried. + +"Gracious, Elfie, don't play so loud!" exclaimed Laura, who reentered. +"What's the matter?" + +Her visitor stopped playing. Smiling, she explained: + +"I shoved over that thing marked 'swell.' I sure will have to speak to +Jerry about this. I'm stuck on this 'swell' thing. Hurry up!" Noticing +Laura's white, anxious-looking face, she exclaimed sympathetically: +"Gee! you look pale! I'll just bet you and Will had a fight. He always +gets the best of you, doesn't he, dearie? Listen. Don't you think you +can ever get him trained? I almost threw Jerry down the stairs the +other night, and he came right back with a lot of American beauties and +a cheque. I told him if he didn't look out, I'd throw him downstairs +every night. He's getting too d----d independent, and it's got me +nervous." Sinking into a seat, she exclaimed, with a sigh: "Oh, dear, I +s'pose I will have to go back on the stage." + +"In the chorus?" inquired Laura quietly. + +Elfie looked up in mock indignation. + +"Well, I should say not. I'm going to give up my musical career. +Charlie Burgess is putting on a new play, and he says he has a part in +it for me if I want to go back. It isn't much, but very important--sort +of a pantomime part. A lot of people talk about me and just at the +right moment I walk across the stage and make an awful hit. I told +Jerry that if I went on he'd have to come across with one of those +Irish crochet lace gowns. He fell for it. Do you know, dearie, I think +he'd sell out his business just to have me back on the stage for a +couple of weeks, just to give box parties every night for my entrance +and exits." + +Laura went over to the sofa, picked up the candy box, placed it on the +desk, and took the telegram from the table. Then, taking her friend by +the hand, she led her over to the sofa. + +"Elfie," she said seriously. + +"Yes, dear." + +"Come over here and sit down." + +"What's up?" + +"Do you know what I'm going to ask of you?" + +Elfie took a seat opposite. With a wry face, she said: + +"If it's a touch, you'll have to wait until next week." + +"No," smiled Laura; "just a little advice." + +Her friend looked relieved. + +"Well, that's cheap," she laughed; "and the Lord knows you need it. +What's happened?" + +Laura took the crumpled and torn telegram which Brockton had left on +the table, and handed it to her companion. Elfie put the two pieces +together, and read it very carefully. When she reached the middle of +the despatch she gave an exclamation of surprise and looked up quickly +at her companion. Then, finishing it, she laid it down. + +"Well?" she demanded. + +Rather at a loss how to explain, Laura flushed and stammered: + +"Will suspected. There was something in the paper about Mr. +Madison--the telegram came--then we had a row." + +"Serious?" + +"Yes. Do you remember what I told you about that letter--the one Will +made me write--I mean to John--telling him what I had done?" + +"Yes, you burned it." + +"I tried to lie to Will--he wouldn't have it that way. He seemed to +know. He was furious." + +"Did he hit you?" + +"No, he made me admit that John didn't know, and then he said he'd stay +here and tell him himself that I'd made him lie, and he said something +about liking the other man and wanting to save him." + +"Save him?" exclaimed Elfie derisively. "Shucks! He's jealous!" + +"I told him if he'd only go I'd--tell John myself when he came, and +now, you see, I'm waiting--and I've got to tell--and--and I don't know +how to begin--and--and I thought you could help me--you seem so sort of +resourceful, and it means--it means so much to me. If John turned on me +now I couldn't go back to Will, and, Elfie--I don't think I'd care +to--stay here any more." + +"What!" exclaimed Elfie. + +Impulsively, she took Laura in her arms. + +"Dearie," she said earnestly, "get that nonsense out of your head and +be sensible. I'd just like to see any two men who could make me think +about--well--what you seem to have in your mind." + +"But I don't know what to do," went on Laura. "Can't you see, Elfie, I +don't know what to do. If I don't tell him, Will will come back and +he'll tell him. I know John, and maybe----" Fearfully she added: "Do +you know, I think John would kill him!" + +"Nonsense!" laughed the girl. "Don't waste your time worrying about +that. Now, let's get down to cases. We haven't much time. Business is +business, and love is love. You're long on love, and I'm long on +business, and, between the two of us, we ought to straighten this thing +out. Now, evidently John is coming on here to marry you." + +"Yes." + +"And you love him?" + +"Yes." + +"And, as far as you know, the moment that he comes in here, it's quick +to the justice and a wedding?" + +"Yes; but you see how impossible it is----" + +"I don't see that anything is impossible. From all you've said to me +about this fellow, there is only one thing to do." + +"What is that?" + +"To get married--quick. You say he has the money, and you have the +love. You're sick of Brockton, and you want to switch and do it in the +decent, respectable, conventional way, and he's going to take you away. +Haven't you got sense enough to know that once you're married to Mr. +Madison that Will Brockton wouldn't dare go to him? Even if he did, +Madison wouldn't believe him. A man will believe a whole lot about his +girl, but nothing about his wife." + +Laura turned and looked at her. There was a long pause. + +"Elfie--I--I--don't think I could do that to John. I don't think--I +could deceive him." + +Her companion made a gesture of impatience. Rising, she cried: + +"You make me sick! You're only a novice! Lie to all men--they all lie +to you. Protect yourself. You seem to think that your happiness depends +on this. Now do it. Listen: Don't you realize that you and me, and all +the girls that are shoved into this life, are practically the common +prey of any man who happens to come along? Don't you know that they've +got about as much consideration for us as they have for any pet animal +around the house, and the only way that we've got it on the animal is +that we've got brains? This is a game, Laura, _not a sentiment_. Do you +suppose that Madison--now don't get sore--hasn't turned these tricks +himself before he met you, and I'll gamble he's done it since. A man's +natural trade is a heartbreaking business. Don't tell me about women +breaking men's hearts. The only thing they can ever break is their +bankroll. And, besides, this is not Will's business; he has no right to +interfere. You've been decent with him, and he's been nice to you; but +I don't think that he's given you any the best of it. Now, if you want +to leave, and go your own way, and marry any Tom, Dick or Harry that +you want to, it's nobody's affair but yours." + +"But you don't understand--it's John. I can't lie to him," cried Laura. + +"Well, that's too bad about you. I used to have that truthful habit +myself, and the best I ever got was the worst of it. All this talk +about love and loyalty and constancy is fine and dandy in a book, but +when a girl has to look out for herself, take it from me, whenever +you've got that trump card up your sleeve, just play it, and rake in +the pot." Taking Laura's hand, she added affectionately: "You know, +dearie, you're just about the only one in the world I've left to care +for." + +"Elfie!" cried Laura, taking her companion's hand, sympathetically. + +Her eyes filled with tears, Elfie put her handkerchief up to her face +to conceal her emotion. Under the coarseness and flippancy of the +courtesan were glimpses of an unhappy woman, a human being conscious of +her own irretrievable degradation. For the first time in years, she was +making another the confidant of her life's tragedy, the sad, +commonplace story of a woman's ruin. Recovering herself, she went on +quickly: + +"Since I broke away from the folks up-State, and they've heard things, +there ain't any more letters coming to me with an Oswego postmark. Ma's +gone, and the rest don't care. You're all I've got in the world, Laura, +and I'm making you do this only because I want to see you happy. I was +afraid this complication would arise. The thing to do now is to grab +your happiness, no matter how you get it, nor where it comes from. +There ain't a whole lot of joy in this world for you and me and the +others we know, and what little you get you've got to take when you're +young, because when those gray hairs begin to show and the make-up +isn't going to hide the wrinkles, unless you're well fixed, it's going +to be h--ll. You know what a fellow doesn't know doesn't hurt him. +He'll love you just the same, and you'll love him. As for Brockton, let +him get another girl. There are plenty around. Why, if this chance came +to me, I'd tie a can to Jerry so quick that you could hear it rattle +all the way down Broadway!" + +She rose, and, leaning over the back of Laura's chair, put her arms +lovingly around her neck. Tenderly, she said: "Promise me, dearie, that +you won't be a d----d fool. Will you promise?" + +Laura looked up at her, and smiled faintly: "I promise." + +Elfie took her gloves and parasol. + +"Well, good-by, dear; I must be going. Ta-ta, dearie. Give my regards +to your charmer." + +Laura accompanied her to the door. + +"Good-by, dear." + +Left alone, Laura returned to the parlor. Drawing aside the portieres +that shut off the maid's quarters, she called out: + +"Annie!" + +"Yassum!" + +"I'm expecting a gentleman, Annie. When he comes, ask him in." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +The New York Central Railroad terminus in Manhattan is not exactly a +spot which one would be apt to select for a rest cure, although a +famous nerve specialist has expressed the learned opinion that such +little disturbances in the atmospheric envelope as the shrieking of +steam whistles, the exploding of giant firecrackers, the bursting of +pneumatic tires, the blasting with dynamite, the uproar of street +traffic, the shouts of men and boys, the screams of women and the +wailing of babes are soothing, rather than harmful, to the human +nervous system. All these sounds and others even more discordant, +greeted the tired passengers of the Buffalo express, as, arriving from +the West, they emerged from the train-shed into the deafening turmoil +of Forty-second Street. + +John Madison, tanned and weather-beaten, suitcase in hand, stood +hesitating on the curb, as if dazed. After long months spent amid the +loneliness and comparative quiet of the Nevada desert, the rush and +bustle of the colossal metropolis was bewildering and confusing. A +hackman hailed him. + +"Cab, sir?" + +"Yes," he answered, throwing his traveling grip on the seat. "Drive to +the Waldorf." + +As the jehu flourished his whip, and the hack rattled along on its way +to the hotel, Madison gazed idly out of the windows, watching with +interest the luxurious shops and the crowds of busy people hurrying +along the sidewalks. How different it all looked to-day than when he +was last in New York! Now, he viewed the scene with different eyes. +Then he was a penniless reporter, obliged to stint and count before he +ventured to spend a dollar. To-day he was a successful miner, one of +those lucky individuals to whom Fortune has been more than kind. He was +suddenly possessed of more money than he knew what to do with. He could +stop at the best hotels, throw gold around him by the handfuls. For the +first time in his life he was tasting the sweets of wealth. Every one +treated him with deference, all were eager to render service. People +who formerly affected to be ignorant of his very existence, now fawned +upon him and asked him to their houses. He was a rich man. It meant not +only immediate creature comforts, but freedom from care, independence +for life. And what he prized most of all, it meant happiness, both for +himself and the girl he loved, the girl who had waited so faithfully +and so patiently. He could hardly restrain his impatience to see her. +What rapture would it be to clasp her to his heart and cry: "Your long +wait is over! I've come to make you happy! Henceforth you won't have to +work. You'll leave the stage for good." And in his mind's eye, he saw +Laura's joy, and heard her happy, girlish laugh, as he sat down before +her and signed a blank cheque, telling her to fill in the rest for any +amount she wished to spend. Yes--that was the greatest joy of success +and being rich--the power of making happy the girl you loved. Thank +God, he had won out! To-day, he was a rich man. + +He had entirely forgotten the doubts and morbid fancies which had +seized him in the wilderness. When he had recovered from his terrible +experiences, he wondered how he could ever have permitted his mind to +haunt such strange, unpleasant paths. The suffering and mental torture +he went through was doubtless responsible for his unreasoning +suspicions. He would never tell Laura; she must never know that he had +harbored such thoughts. She would never forgive him. How delighted she +would be to see him! Probably she was already anxiously on the lookout. +By this time she had certainly received his telegram, which he had sent +in care of her manager. He wondered where she was stopping. His last +letter to her had been returned by the post office authorities marked +"address unknown." She was in New York. He was sure of that, for he had +read in the Chicago papers of her success in the new play. He was glad +she had made good at last, because it meant more comforts for her. No +doubt she had left the boarding-house, of which she wrote him +discouraging accounts early in the winter, and was now installed in +some fashionable hotel. The best and quickest way to find her would be +to telephone the Burgess office. He wondered if she would be willing to +throw up at once everything--the theatre, her future contracts and +all--to marry him without delay. If he could have his way, he would +like to return West with her that same day. They could leave on the +Limited and get married in Chicago. + +In less than fifteen minutes the Waldorf was reached, a room engaged, +and Madison already had the office of Burgess & Co. on the telephone. + +"Hello! Can you give me the private address of Miss Laura Murdock?" + +"We don't give private addresses," was the curt reply. + +This difficulty Madison had not foreseen, but his quick wit came to his +aid, and in his most persuasive tone, he said: + +"I'm sure you will, when you know the circumstances. I am a personal +friend--I might say, relative, of Miss Murdock. I've just got in from +Chicago. She expects me, but I've mislaid her address." + +"Oh--that's different," said the voice more civilly. "There's so many +Johnnies around that we have to be careful. Miss Murdock is at the +Pomona, West ---- Street." + +Madison did not wait to eat or anything else. Jumping into the first +taxicab he saw, he said: + +"West ---- Street." + +A few minutes later the cab drew up before the rather imposing entrance +of the Pomona Apartments. Dismissing the taxi, he turned to the +uniformed attendant, who stood surveying the weather-tanned six-footer +with some respect. Judging by his clothes, the new arrival looked as if +he had done some traveling. + +"Is Miss Murdock in?" + +"I'll see, sir. Who shall I say?" + +"Mr. Madison." Airily, he added: "Miss Murdock expects me." + +A moment later the man returned, and politely ushered him into an +elevator lined with mirrors, and luxuriously upholstered in red satin. +At the fifth floor, the smooth-running car stopped, and the attendant +pointed to an apartment across the corridor. Before Madison could reach +the door, it was thrown wide open. There was a wild rush of rustling +silks and white lace, a woman's stifled sob, and Laura was in his arms. + +"Oh, John!" she cried almost hysterically, as the door closed behind +him. "I'm so happy!" + +For a moment he held her clasped tightly to him, as if afraid some one +else might appear in this strange apartment to rob him of her. This was +the supreme moment for which he had toiled and waited all these cruel, +weary months. When at last, all red under his kisses, she released +herself from his embrace, he took her face in his hands and held it up +towards his. Tenderly, he said: + +"I'm not much on the love-making business, Laura, but I never thought +I'd be as happy as I am now. I've been counting mile-posts ever since I +left Chicago, and it seemed like as if I had to go round the world +before I got here." + +Following close behind, as she went into the sitting room, he gave an +exclamation of surprise as he took in the beautiful gilded furniture +and rich furnishings. His eye seemed to ask questions he found no words +for. She caught the look, and she trembled. Nervously waving him to a +seat, she said: + +"You never told me about your good fortune. If you hadn't telegraphed, +I wouldn't even have known you were coming." + +"I didn't want to," he replied, smiling. "I'd made up my mind to sort +of drop in here and give you a great big surprise--a happy one, I +knew--but the papers made such a fuss in Chicago that I thought you +might have read about it--did you?" + +"No, tell me," she said eagerly. + +He sat down and began the story of his wanderings. He told her of his +adventures in the search for gold, of his sufferings, and his narrow +escape from death. In those dark hours, he had only had one thought, +one hope--that he might be spared to see her once again. + +"It's been pretty tough sledding out there in the mining country," he +said. "It did look as if I never would make a strike; but your spirit +was with me, and I knew if I could only hold out that something would +come my way. I had a pal--a fine fellow. We started out to find gold. +The first thing we knew we were lost--lost in the howling wilderness. +We nearly perished of cold and hunger. It was a close call, little +girl. I never thought I should see you again. But one day, when we were +about all in, we struck gold--quantities of it, nuggets as big as my +fist. We staked our claims in two weeks, and I went to Reno to raise +enough money for me to come East. Now, things are all fixed, and it's +just a matter of time." + +He took the girl's delicate hand in his big brown ones, and looked +fondly into her eyes. + +"So you're very, very rich, dear?" she murmured. + +He released her hand, and leaned back carelessly in his chair. + +"Oh, not rich; just heeled. I'm not going down to the Wall Street +bargain counter and buy the Union Pacific, or anything like that; but +we won't have to take the trip on tourists' tickets, and there's enough +money to make us comfortable all the rest of our lives." + +"How hard you must have worked and suffered!" + +He smiled, and, rising from his chair, stood looking down at her from +the other side of the table. + +"Nobody else ever accused me of that, but I sure have to plead guilty +to you. Why, dear, since the day you came into my life, hell-raising +took a sneak out the back door, and God poked His toe in the front, and +ever since then I think He's been coming a little closer to me. I used +to be a fellow without much faith, and kidded everybody who had it, and +I used to say to those who prayed and believed, 'You may be right, but +show me a message.' You came along, and brought that little document in +your sweet face and your dear love. Laura, you turned the trick for me, +and I think I'm almost a regular man now." + +She turned her head away, unwilling that he should see her face, afraid +that he might read there the whole miserable truth. As he spoke, his +words brought to her a full realization of all she was to this man, and +she became more and more unnerved. It was more than she could bear. +Feebly she murmured: + +"Please, John, don't. I'm not worth it." + +Rising suddenly from the sofa, she went to the window. The air of the +room was hot and stifling. She felt herself growing faint. + +"Not worth it?" he exclaimed lightly, going up to her. "Why, you're +worth that and a whole lot more. And see how you've got on! Brockton +told me you never could get along in your profession, but I knew you +could." + +He walked around the room, inspecting the furnishings and knickknacks. +Finally, he turned, and, with an interrogative note in his voice, said: + +"Gee! fixed up kind o' scrumptious, ain't you? I guess you've been +almost as prosperous as I have." + +She forced a laugh. With affected carelessness, she said: + +"You can get a lot of gilt and cushions in New York at half-price, and, +besides, I've got a pretty good part now." + +"Of course, I know that," he smiled; "but I didn't think it would make +you quite so comfortable. Great, ain't it?" + +"Yes." + +Taking her by the shoulders, and shaking her playfully, he went on: + +"I knew what you had in you, and here you are. You succeeded, and I +succeeded, but I'm going to take you away; and after a while, when +things sort of smooth out, we're going to move back here, and go to +Europe, and just have a great time, like a couple of kids." + +She turned and looked up at him. Slowly, she said: + +"But if I hadn't succeeded, and if things--things weren't just as they +seem--would it make any difference to you, John?" + +He took her in his arms and kissed her, drawing her onto the sofa +beside him. + +"Not the least in the world. Now, don't get blue. I should not have +surprised you this way. It's taken you off your feet." + +Looking at his watch, he jumped up, and, going behind the sofa, he got +his overcoat. "But we've not any time to lose. How soon can you get +ready?" + +Laura knelt on the sofa, leaning over the back. + +"You mean to go at once?" she asked. + +"Nothing else." + +"Take all my things?" + +"All your duds," he smiled. "Can't you get ready?" + +"Why, my dear, I can get ready most any time." + +He came over and stood by her chair, looking down at her +affectionately. With a smile, he said: + +"Well, are you ready?" + +She looked up quickly, a faint flush on her pale face. + +"For what, dear?" + +"You know what I said in the telegram?" + +"Yes." + +Her head dropped forward on his shoulder. In a low tone, she murmured: + +"Yes." + +"Well, I meant it," he said tenderly. + +"I know," she whispered. + +He took a seat on the other side of the table facing her. + +"I've got to get back, Laura, just as soon as ever I can. There's a lot +of work to be done out in Nevada, and I stole away to come to New York. +I want to take you back. Can you go?" + +"Yes--when?" + +"This afternoon. We'll take the eighteen-hour train to Chicago, late +this afternoon, and connect at Chicago with the Overland, and I'll soon +have you in a home." He hesitated a moment; then he said: "And here's +another secret." + +"What, dear?" + +"I've got that home all bought and furnished, and while you wouldn't +call it a Fifth Avenue residence, still it has got something on any +other one in town." + +Looking into the bedroom, he asked: "Is that your maid?" + +"Yes--Annie." + +"Well, you and she can pack everything you want to take; the rest can +follow later." Putting his coat on, he went on: "I planned it all out. +There's a couple of boys downtown, one's Glenn Warner--you know him--he +introduced me to you that night--the other is a newspaper man. I +telephoned them when I got in, and they're waiting for me. I'll just +get down there as soon as I can. I won't be gone long." + +"How long?" she demanded. + +"I don't know just how long, but we'll make that train. I'll get the +license. We'll be married, and we'll be off on our honeymoon this +afternoon. Can you do it?" + +She went up to him, put her hands in his, and they confronted each +other. + +"Yes, dear," she said. "I could do anything for you." + +He took her in his arms and kissed her again. Looking at her fondly, he +said: + +"That's good. Hurry now. I won't be long. Good-by." + +"Hurry back, John." + +"Yes. I won't be long." + +The next instant the door banged behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +For several minutes after John's departure, Laura stood motionless. +Every vestige of color had left her face; her large lustrous eyes +stared blankly into vacancy. She looked as if she had been suddenly +petrified into stone. Yet, inert as she seemed, her brain was working +hard. Perhaps all was not yet lost! John knew nothing, suspected +nothing. She might still be happy. Why should he know what had occurred +during his absence? There was no one to enlighten him. A life of +happiness with the one man she truly loved, might still be hers. +Instantly she was galvanized into action. There was no time to be lost. +She must get away from New York and be safely married before Brockton +or any one else had a chance to ruin her life. She must pack her things +at once, so as to be ready for John when he returned. Feverishly, she +began her preparations. Going rapidly over to the dresser, she picked +up a large jewel case, and, taking down a doll that was hanging on the +dresser, put them on her left arm. With her disengaged hand, she picked +up her black cat and carried it over to the center-table. Then, opening +the door leading to the kitchen, she called out: + +"Annie! Annie! Come here." + +The negress entered the room. + +"Yassum." + +"Annie, I'm going away, and I've got to hurry." + +"Going away!" exclaimed the maid in blank astonishment. + +Her mistress had already begun to pile things in the center of the +room. Hurriedly, Laura said: + +"Yes--I want you to bring both my trunks out here--I'll help you--and +start to pack. We can't take everything, but bring all the clothes out, +and we'll hurry as fast as we can." + +They entered the sleeping apartments together, and in a short time +reappeared, carrying a large trunk between them. Pushing the sofa back, +they laid it down in the center of the room. + +"Look out for your feet, Miss Laura!" exclaimed the maid. + +"I think I'll take two trunks," said her mistress thoughtfully. + +[Illustration: LAURA COMMENCED TO PACK THE TRUNK. + _Page 307._] + +The negress pushed the table out of the way, and, in her flurry, nearly +fell over the armchair. + +"Golly, such excitement!" she exclaimed. "Wheah yuh goin', Miss Laura?" + +"Never mind where I'm going," snapped her mistress. "I haven't any time +to waste now talking. I'll tell you later. This is one time, Annie, +that you've got to move. Hurry up!" + +Giving the maid a push, she hustled her out of the room, and followed +closely behind herself. Presently they returned with a smaller trunk. + +"Look out fo' yo' dress, Miss Laura," exclaimed the maid. + +The trunks were set down, side by side. Laura opened one and commenced +to throw the things out, while Annie stood watching her. Soon the +actress was down on her knees in front of the trunk, humming "_Bon Bon +Buddy_" packing for dear life, while the maid watched her in amazement. + +"Ah nevah see you so happy, Miss Laura." + +"I never was so happy!" cried Laura almost hysterically. Giving the +girl a push, she exclaimed impatiently: "For Heaven's sake, girl, go +get something! Don't stand there looking at me. I want you to hurry." + +Thus admonished, Annie ran helter-skelter in the direction of her +mistress' room. + +"I'll bring out all de fluffy ones first," she cried as she +disappeared. + +"Yes, everything!" cried Laura, who was on her knees busy laying the +things neatly away in the trunk. + +Presently the maid returned laden with an armful of dresses and a +hat-box. The box she placed on the floor, the dresses on top of the +trunk. Going out again for more, she asked: + +"Yuh goin' to take dat opera cloak?" + +"Yes, everything--everything!" answered Laura, breathless from the +speed at which she was working. + +Annie reentered with more dresses. There seemed no end to them, each +more beautiful and costly than the other. The maid put them on the +sofa; then, picking up the opera cloak, she laid it out on top of the +dresses in the trunk. Even the humble colored menial was spellbound by +the beauty of these adjuncts of feminine loveliness. + +"My, but dat's a beauty! I jest love dat crushed rosey one." + +Laura looked up impatiently. The girl's chatter made her nervous. +Sharply, she said: + +"Annie, go and put the best dresses on the foot of the bed. I'll get +them myself. You heard what I said?" + +The girl ran. She stood in awe of her mistress when she was in +ill-humor. + +"Yassum!" + +While the negress was in the inner room taking the garments from the +cupboards, Laura continued busily arranging the contents of the trunk, +placing garments here, and some there, sorting them out. While she was +thus engaged, with her back to the door, the door leading to the outer +corridor opened, and Brockton appeared. He entered quietly, without +disturbing Laura, and for a minute or two stood watching her in +silence. Then, suddenly, he said: + +"Going away?" + +Startled, Laura jumped up and confronted him. + +"Yes," she said, with some confusion. + +"In somewhat of a hurry, I should say," he said dryly. + +"Yes." + +"What's the plan?" he inquired. + +"I'm just going--that's all," she said calmly. + +"Madison been here?" he asked in the same even tone. + +"He's just left," she answered. + +"Of course you are going with him?" + +"Yes." + +"West?" + +"To Nevada." + +"Going--er--to get married?" he demanded. + +"Yes, this afternoon." + +He looked at her keenly, and said significantly: + +"So he didn't care then?" + +Flushing, she flared up: + +"What do you mean, when you say 'He didn't care'?" + +"Of course you told him about the letter, and how it was burned up, and +all that sort of thing, didn't you?" + +"Why, yes," she replied, averting her eyes. + +"And he said it didn't make any difference?" + +"He--he didn't say anything. We're just going to be married, that's +all." + +"Did you mention my name, and say that we'd been--rather companionable +for the last two months?" + +"I told him--you'd been--a very good friend to me." + +She spoke with hesitation, at moments with difficulty, as if seeking to +gain time, to find answers for his awkward questions. But she did not +deceive him. Brockton was too much the man of the world to be easily +hoodwinked. He knew she was lying, and his face flushed with anger. + +"How soon do you expect him back?" he demanded. + +"Quite soon," she replied, with an effort to be calm. "I don't know +just exactly how long he'll be." + +She turned her back and proceeded with her packing. He came nearer and +stood overlooking the trunk. + +"And you mean to tell me that you kept your promise and told him the +truth?" he persisted. + +She stammered confusedly, and then, her patience exhausted, she broke +out into open defiance. + +"What business have you got to ask me that? What business have you got +to interfere, anyway?" + +Rising and going to the bed in the alcove, she took the dresses and +carried them to the sofa. Brockton followed her, his fists clenched. + +"Then you've lied again!" he cried furiously. "You lied to him, and you +just tried to lie to me now. You're not particularly clever at it, +although I don't doubt but that you've had considerable practice." + +With a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders, he walked over to the chair +at the table and sat down, still holding his hat in his hand, and +without removing his overcoat. Laura came back laden with more things. +Seeing Brockton sitting, she stopped, and, turning on him, laid the +dresses down. + +"What are you going to do?" she demanded. + +"Sit down here and rest a few moments; maybe longer," he replied +coolly. + +She looked at him in dismay. + +"You can't do that!" she exclaimed. + +"I don't see why not. This is my own place." + +"But don't you see that he'll come back here soon and find you here?" + +"That's just exactly what I want him to do." + +Laura looked at him helplessly. With suppressed emotion, almost on the +verge of hysteria, she broke out: + +"I want to tell you this. If you do this thing, you'll ruin my life. +You've done enough to it already. Now, I want you to go. I don't think +you've got any right to come here now, in this way, and take this +happiness from me. I've given you everything I've got, and now I want +to live right and decently. He wants me to marry him. We love each +other. Now, Will Brockton, it's come to this. You've got to leave this +place, do you hear? You've got to leave this place. Please get out!" + +Brockton was white and determined looking. For the first time in his +life, he was really angry. Leaving his chair and advancing towards her, +he said menacingly: + +"Do you think I'm going to let a woman make a liar out of me? I'm going +to stay right here. I like that boy, and I'm not going to let you put +him to the bad." + +"I want you to go!" she cried. + +Shutting the trunk-lid down, she went over to the dresser and opened +the drawer, to get more things out. + +"And I tell you I won't go," he retorted furiously. "I'm going to show +you up. I'm going to tell him the truth. It isn't you I care for--he's +got to know." + +Slamming the drawer shut, she turned and faced him, almost tiger-like +in her anger. + +"You don't care for me?" she cried. + +"No." + +"It isn't me you're thinking of?" + +"No." + +"Who's the liar now?" + +"Liar?" + +"Yes, liar. You are! You don't care for this man, and you know it." + +"You're foolish." + +"Yes, I am foolish, and I've been foolish all my life, but I'm getting +a little sense now." + +Kneeling in the armchair facing him, her voice shaking with anger, she +went on: + +"All my life, since the day you first took me away, you've planned and +planned and planned to keep me, and to trick me and bring me down with +you. When you came to me I was happy. I didn't have much, just a little +salary and some hard work." + +He shrugged his shoulders, and smiled skeptically. Ironically, he said: + +"But, like all the rest, you found that wouldn't keep you, didn't you?" + +Ignoring his taunt, she went on: + +"You say I'm bad, but who's made me so? Who took me out night after +night? Who showed me what these luxuries were? Who put me in the habit +of buying something I couldn't afford? You did." + +"Well, you liked it, didn't you?" + +"Who got me in debt, and then, when I wouldn't do what you wanted me +to, who had me discharged from the company, so I had no means of +living? Who followed me from one place to another? Who, always +entreating, tried to trap me into this life? I didn't know any better." + +"Didn't know better?" he echoed derisively. + +"I knew it was wrong--yes; but you told me everybody in this business +did that sort of thing, and I was just as good as any one else. Finally +you got me and you kept me. Then, when I went away to Denver, and for +the first time found a gleam of happiness, for the first time in my +life----" + +"You're crazy," he said contemptuously. + +"Yes, I am crazy!" she cried hysterically. + +Her patience was at an end. She felt that if he stayed there another +minute to taunt and torture her, she would go stark, raving mad. A +choking sensation rose in her throat. Seized with a sudden fury, she +swept the table cover off the table, and, making one stride to the +dresser, knocked all the bottles off. Then she turned on him furiously. +Almost screaming, she shouted: + +"You've made me crazy! You followed me to Denver, and then when I got +back you bribed me again. You pulled me down, and you did the same old +thing until this happened. Now, I want you to get out, you understand? +I want you to get out!" + +He turned to pacify her. More gently, he said: + +"Laura, you can't do this." + +But she refused to listen. Walking up and down the room, gesticulating +wildly, she kept crying: + +"Go--do you hear--go!" + +He took a seat on a trunk. Instantly she turned on him like an +infuriated tigress, attempting to push him off by sheer strength. + +"No, you won't," she screamed; "you won't stay here! You're not going +to do this thing again. I tell you, I'm going to be happy. I tell you, +I'm going to be married. You won't see him! I tell you, you won't tell +him! You've got no business to. I hate you! I've hated you for months! +I hate the sight of your face! I've wanted to go, and now I'm going. +You've got to go, do you hear? You've got to get out--get out!" + +Such an exhibition of rage in this usually mild girl was something so +strange and uncanny that it suddenly aroused in him a feeling of +disgust. After all, why should he care? He ought to be glad to get out +and be through with her. As she pushed him again, he rose, and threw +her off, causing her to stagger to a chair. With a gesture of +impatience, he went towards the door. + +"What the hell is the use of fussing with a woman?" he exclaimed. + +The door slammed noisily behind him. Sinking down on her knees, Laura +started to pack with renewed vigor, crying hysterically: + +"I want to be happy! I'm going to be married, I'm going to be happy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Two hours later, Laura, fully dressed for a journey, sat on a trunk, +nervously watching the clock, patiently awaiting John's return. Annie +was still on her knees, struggling with the key of an obstinate +suitcase. + +A remarkable transformation had been effected in the apartment. The +entire place had been dismantled, and the elegantly appointed sitting +room was now littered with trunks, grips, umbrellas and the usual +paraphernalia that accompanies a woman when she is making a permanent +departure from her place of living. + +All the _bric a brac_ had been removed from the sideboard and tables. +Some of the dresser drawers were half open, and pieces of tissue paper +and ribbons were hanging out. On the armchair was a small alligator +bag, containing toilet articles and a bunch of keys. The writing-desk +had all its contents removed, and was open, showing scraps of torn-up +letters. Lying on the floor, where it had been dropped, was a New York +Central timetable. Between the desk and the bay-window stood a +milliner's box, inside of which was a huge picture hat. Under the desk +were a pair of old slippers, a woman's shabby hat and old ribbons. The +picture frames and basket of flowers had been removed from the pianola, +while the music-stool was on top of the instrument, turned upside down. +Between the legs of this stool was an empty _White Rock_ bottle, with a +tumbler turned over it. The big trunk stood in front of the sofa, all +packed, and it had a swing-tray, in which lay a fancy evening gown. On +top of the lid was an umbrella, a lady's traveling-coat, hat, and +gloves. On the sofa was a large Gladstone bag, packed and fastened, and +close by a smaller trunk-tray with lid. In the end of the tray was a +revolver wrapped in tissue paper. The trunk was closed, and apparently +locked. The room had the general appearance of having been stripped of +all personal belongings. Old magazines and newspapers were scattered +all over the place. + +Pale and perturbed, Laura sat nervously, starting at each little sound +she heard from the street. Every now and then she consulted the small +traveling clock which she held in her hand. Why didn't John come. She +was all ready. Everything was packed. All they had to do now was to +call a cab and drive to the railroad station. Thank God, she had got +rid of Brockton! That danger, at least, was removed. John knew nothing, +could hear nothing now until they were safely married. If afterwards he +heard things and demanded an explanation, she would tell him everything +and he would forgive her. + +"Ain't yuh goin' to let me come to yuh at all, Miss Laura?" asked the +maid with a pout. + +"I don't know yet, Annie. I don't even know what the place is like that +we're going to. Mr. Madison hasn't said much. There hasn't been time." + +"Why, Ah've done ma best for yuh, Miss Laura; yes, Ah have. Ah've jest +been with yuh ev'ry moment of ma time, an' Ah worked for yuh an Ah +loved yuh, an, Ah doan wan' to be left 'ere all alone in dis town er +New York." + +Laura turned to the door for a moment, and, while her back was turned +Annie stooped, grabbed up a ribbon, and hid it behind her back. + +"Ah ain't the kind of culled lady knows many people. Can't yuh take me +along wid yuh, Miss Laura? Yuh all been so good to me." + +Getting up from the trunk, Laura went to the outer door and listened. +Hearing nothing, she returned with a gesture of disappointment. With +some irritation, she said: + +"Why, I told you to stay here and get your things together, and then +Mr. Brockton will probably want you to do something. Later I think +he'll have you pack up, just as soon as he finds I'm gone. I've got the +address that you gave me. I'll let you know if you can come on." + +Hiding the ribbon inside her waist, the negress said suddenly: + +"Ain't yuh goin' to give me anything at all, jes' to remembuh yuh by? +Ah've been so honest----" + +"Honest?" echoed her mistress scornfully. + +"Honest, Ah have." + +"You've been about as honest as most colored girls are who work for +women in the position that I am in. You haven't stolen enough to make +me discharge you, but I've seen what you've taken." + +"Now, Miss Laura!" protested the girl. + +"Don't try to fool me!" cried Laura indignantly. "What you've got +you're welcome to, but for Heaven's sake don't prate around here about +loyalty and honesty. I'm sick of it." + +"Ain't yuh goin' to give me no recommendation?" + +Laura shrugged her shoulders impatiently. + +"What good would my recommendation do? You can always go and get +another position with people who've lived the way I've lived, and my +recommendation to the other kind wouldn't amount to much." + +Overcome by emotion and disappointment, Annie collapsed on a trunk. + +"Ah can just see wheah Ah'm goin'!" she cried; "back to dat +boa'din-house fo' me." + +"Now, shut your noise," cried Laura impatiently. "I don't want to hear +any more. I've given you twenty-five dollars for a present. I think +that's enough." + +"Ah know," replied the negress, putting on a most aggrieved appearance, +"but twenty-five dollars ain't a home, and I'm losin' my home. Dat's +jest my luck--every time I save enough money to buy my weddin' clothes +to get married, I lose my job." + +Laura paced nervously from window to door, from door to window, listening +for every footstep. + +"I wonder why he doesn't come," she murmured anxiously. "We'll never be +able to make that train!" + +Picking the timetable off the floor, she sat down in a chair and began +to study it intently. While thus engaged, she heard the elevator stop +on their floor. She jumped to her feet. There he was! After a few +seconds' interval, the bell rang. Yes--that was he. Without waiting for +Annie, she rushed to open the door, and fell back, visibly disappointed. +It was not John, after all. + +"How-dy-do, Miss Laura?" + +The visitor was her old friend, Jim Weston. The advance agent was +neatly dressed in black, and he had about him an appearance of +prosperity which she was not accustomed to see. He looked different, +more staid and respectable, but his drollness of speech and kindly +manner were the same as ever. He held out his hand to Laura, who +invited him in. He came at an inopportune time, but she could not +forget his kindness to her during those terrible days at Mrs. Farley's. + +"I'm mighty glad to see you, Jim," she said cordially. + +"Looks as if you were going to move," he grinned, looking around. + +"Yes, I am going to move, and a long ways, too. How well you're +looking--fit as a fiddle." + +"Yes; I am feelin' fine. Where yer goin'? Troupin'?" + +"No, indeed." + +"Thought not. What's comin' off now?" + +"I'm going to be married this afternoon," she said proudly. + +"Married?" he exclaimed in astonishment. + +"And then I'm going West." + +Leaving the trunks, which he had been inspecting, he walked toward her +and held out his hands. + +"Now, I'm just glad to hear that," he said warmly. "Ye know when I +heard how--how things was breakin' for ye--well, I ain't knockin' or +anythin' like that, but me and the missis have talked ye over a lot. I +never did think this feller was goin' to do the right thing by yer. +Brockton never looked to me like a fellow who would marry anybody, but +now that he's going through just to make you a nice, respectable wife, +I guess everything must have happened for the best." + +He looked at her, and paused, as if expecting she would take him more +into her confidence, but she made no reply, and averted her eyes. +Sitting on the trunk beside her, he went on: + +"Ye see, I wanted to thank you for what you did a couple of weeks ago. +Burgess wrote me a letter, and told me I could go ahead of one of his +big shows if I wanted to come back, and offered me considerable money. +He mentioned your name, Miss Laura, and I talked it over with the +missis, and--well, I can tell ye now when I couldn't if ye weren't to +be hooked up--we decided that I wouldn't take that job, comin' as it +did from you, and the way I knew it was framed up." + +"Why not?" she asked in surprise. + +"Well, ye see," he said with some embarrassment, "there are three kids, +and they're all growing up, all of them in school, and the missis, +she's just about forgot the show business, and she's playing star part +in the kitchen, juggling dishes and doing flip-flaps with pancakes; +and we figured that as we'd always gone along kinder clean-like, it +wouldn't be good for the kids to take a job comin' from Brockton--because +you--you--well--you--you----" + +Laura rose hastily, and her face reddened. + +"I know. You thought it wasn't decent. Is that it?" + +"Oh, not exactly; only--well, you see I'm gettin' along pretty good now. +I got a little one-night stand theatre out in Ohio--manager of it, too. +The town is called Gallipolis." + +"Gallipolis?" she echoed, puzzled. + +"Oh, that ain't a disease," he smiled. "It is the name of a town. Maybe +you don't know much about Gallipolis, or where it is." + +"No." + +"Well, it looks just like it sounds. We got a little house, and the old +lady is happy, and I feel so good that I can even stand her cookin'. Of +course, we ain't makin' much money, but I guess I'm getting a little +old-fashioned around theatres, anyway. The fellows from newspapers and +colleges have got it on me. Last time I asked a man for a job he asked +me what I knew about the Greek drama, and when I told him I didn't know +the Greeks had a theatre in New York, he slipped me a laugh and told me +to come in again on some rainy Tuesday. Then Gallipolis showed on the +map, and I beat it for the West." + +Noticing that his words had hurt her, he stopped, and in an embarrassed +kind of way went on: + +"Sorry if I hurt ye--didn't mean to; and now that yer goin' to be Mrs. +Brockton, well, I take back all I said, and while I don't think I want +to change my position, I wouldn't turn it down for--for that other +reason, that's all." + +"But, Mr. Weston, I'm not going to be Mrs. Brockton!" she cried hastily, +with a note of defiance in her voice. + +"No?" he exclaimed in surprise. + +"No." + +"Oh--oh----" + +"I'm going to marry another man, and a good man." + +"The h--ll you are!" + +She rose and put her hand on his shoulder. Gently, she said: + +"It's going to be altogether different. I know what you meant when you +said about the missis and the kids, and that's what I want--just a +little home, just a little peace, just a little comfort, and--and the +man has come who's going to give it to me. You don't want me to say any +more, do you?" + +"No, I don't," he said emphatically, in a tone of hearty approval; "and +now I'm just going to put my mit out and shake yours and be real glad. +I want to tell ye it's the only way to go along. I ain't never been a +rival to Rockefeller, nor I ain't never made Morgan jealous, but since +the day my old woman took her make-up off for the last time and walked +out of that stage door to give me a little help and bring my kids into +the world, I knew that was the way to go along; and if you're goin' to +take that road, by Jiminy, I'm glad of it, for you sure do deserve it. +I wish yer luck." + +"Thank you." + +"I'm mighty glad you sidestepped Brockton," he went on. "You're young, +and you're pretty, and you're sweet, and if you've got the right kind +of a feller, there ain't no reason on earth why you shouldn't jest +forgit the whole business and see nothin' but laughs and a good time +comin' to you, and the sun sort o' shinin' every twenty-four hours in +the day. You know the missis feels just as if she knew you, after I +told her about them hard times we had at Farley's boarding-house, so I +feel that it's paid me to come to New York, even if I didn't book +anything but 'East Lynne' and 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'." Rising and moving +towards the door, he added: "Now, I'm goin'. Don't forget--Gallipolis's +the name, and sometimes the mail does get there. I'd be awful glad if +you wrote the missis a little note tellin' us how you're gettin' along, +and if you ever have to ride on the Kanawha and Michigan, just look out +of the window when the train passes our town, because that is about the +best you'll get." + +"Why?" + +"They only stop there on signal. And make up your mind that the Weston +family is with you, forty ways from the Jack, day and night. Good-by, +and God bless you!" + +"Good-by, Jim," she said, with some emotion. "I'm so glad to know +you're happy." + +"You bet," he grinned. "Never mind, I can get out all right. Good-by +again." + +"Good-by," she said very softly. + +The door closed behind him, and once more she took up her solitary +vigil at the window. If John would only come! The precious minutes were +slipping away. They would never be able to make that train. She +wondered what had detained him. Suddenly, a cold chill ran through her. +Suppose he had met some one downtown who had told him about her and +Brockton. Then he would never come back again, or, if he did, it would +be only to wreak his vengeance. In spite of herself she trembled at the +mere idea. To change her thoughts, she began to busy herself about the +room, collecting the small packages, counting the trunks, showing Annie +how to close the apartment when they had gone. Suddenly the front +doorbell rang. She gave a joyful exclamation. + +"Hurry, Annie--there's Mr. Madison!" + +The girl passed into the corridor and a moment later her voice was +heard saying: + +"She's waitin' for yuh, Mr. Madison." + +Laura hastened forward to greet him. John came in, hat in hand, +followed by Annie. He stopped short as he entered, and looked long and +searchingly at Laura, who had hurried joyously to embrace him. +Instinctively she felt that something had happened. That look of +suspicion and distrust was not in his eyes when he left her that +morning, She trembled but remained firm. Annie disappeared and Laura +took his hat and coat and placed them on a trunk. + +"Aren't you a little late, dear?" she said timidly. + +He remained gloomily silent for a moment. Then, he said: + +"I--I was detained downtown a few minutes. I think that we can carry +out our plan all right." + +"Has anything happened?" she inquired, trying to conceal her anxiety. + +"No," he replied hesitatingly. "I've made all the arrangements. The men +will be here in a few minutes for your trunks." Feeling in his pocket, +he added: "I've got the railroad tickets and everything else, but----" + +"But what, John?" + +He went over to her. Instinctively she understood that she was about to +go through an ordeal. She seemed to feel that he had become acquainted +with something which might interfere with the realization of her +long-cherished dream. He looked at her long and searchingly. Evidently +he, too, was much wrought up, but when he spoke it was with a calm +dignity and force which showed the character of the man. + +"Laura," he began. + +"Yes?" she answered timidly. + +"You know when I went downtown I said I was going to call on two or +three of my friends in Park Row." + +"I know." + +"I told them who I was going to marry." + +"Well?" + +"They said something about you and Brockton, and I found that they'd +said too much, but not quite enough." + +"What did they say?" + +"Just that--too much and not quite enough. There's a minister waiting +for us over on Madison Avenue. You see, then you'll be my wife. That's +pretty serious business, and all I want now from you is the truth." + +She looked at him inquiringly, fearfully--not knowing what to say. + +"Well?" she stammered. + +"Just tell me what they said was just an echo of the past--that it came +from what had been going on before that wonderful day out there in +Colorado. Tell me that you've been on the level. I don't want their +word, Laura--I just want yours." + +The girl shrank back a moment before his anxious face, then summoned up +all her courage, looked frankly into his eyes, and with as innocent an +expression as she was able to put on, said: + +"Yes, John, I have been on the level." + +He sprang forward with a joyful exclamation: + +"I knew that, dear, I knew it!" he cried. + +Taking her in his arms, he kissed her hotly. She clung to him in +pitiful helplessness. His manner had suddenly changed to one of almost +boyish happiness. + +"Well," he went on joyfully, "now everything's all ready, let's get on +the job. We haven't a great deal of time. Get your duds on." + +"When do we go?" + +"Right away. The idea is to get away." + +"All right," she said gleefully. Getting her hat off the trunk, she +crossed to the mirror and put it on. + +He surveyed the room and laughed. + +"You've got trunks enough, haven't you? One might think we're moving a +whole colony. And, by the way, to me you are a whole colony--anyway, +you're the only one I ever wanted to settle with." + +"That's good," she laughed lightly. + +Taking her bag off the bureau, she went to the trunk and got her purse, +coat and umbrella, as if ready to leave. Hurriedly gathering her things +together and adjusting her hat, she said, almost to herself, in a low +tone: + +"I'm so excited. Come on!" + +Madison went to get his hat and coat, and both were about to leave, +when suddenly they heard the outer door slam. Instinctively both halted +and waited. Who could it be? John looked questioningly at Laura, who +stood, pale as death and as motionless as if changed into marble. A +moment later Brockton entered leisurely, with his hat on and his coat, +half-drawn off, hanging loosely on his arm. He paid no attention to +either of them, but walked straight through the room, without speaking, +and disappeared through the _portieres_ into the sleeping apartments +beyond. His manner was that of a man who knows he is at home and has no +account to render to anyone either for the manner of his entrance or +what rooms he may enter. Laura, who at first had made a quick movement +forward, as if to bar his further progress, fell back, terrified. +Putting her coat, bag and umbrella down on a chair, she stood, dazed +and trembling, powerless to avert the crisis which she realized was at +hand. Madison, who had watched the broker's actions with amazement, +suddenly grew rigid as a statue. His square jaw snapped with a +determined click, and one hand slipped stealthily into his hip pocket. +No one spoke. The tense silence was ominous and painful. + +It seemed like an hour, but less than a minute had elapsed when +Brockton reentered, with coat and hat off. Carelessly picking up a +newspaper, he took a seat in the armchair, and, leisurely crossing his +legs, looked over at the others, who still stood motionless, watching +him. Greeting John lightly, he said: + +"Hello, Madison, when did you get in?" + +Slowly John seemed to recover himself. Suddenly his hand went swiftly +to his hip pocket and he drew out a revolver. Eyeing the broker with +savage determination, he deliberately and slowly covered him with the +deadly weapon. Brockton, who had seen the movement, sprang quickly to +his feet. Laura, terror stricken, screamed loudly and threw herself +right in the line of fire. + +"Don't shoot!" she pleaded hoarsely. + +Madison kept his rival covered, but he did not shoot. There was an +uncertain expression in his face, as if he was wavering in his own mind +as to whether he would kill this man or not. Slowly his whole frame +relaxed. He lowered the pistol and quietly replaced it in his pocket, +much to the relief of Brockton, who, notwithstanding the danger that +confronted him, had stood his ground like a man. Turning to Laura, the +Westerner said slowly: + +"Thank you. You said that just in time." + +There was an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of Laura weeping +half hysterically. Finally Brockton, who had recovered his self-possession, +said: + +"Well, you see, Madison--what I told you that time in Denver----" + +John made another threatening gesture which brought him face to face +with the broker. + +"Look out, Brockton," he said. "I don't want to talk to you----" + +"All right," rejoined the broker, with a shrug of his shoulders. + +Madison turned to Laura. Peremptorily he said: + +"Now get that man out of here." + +"John--I----" she protested cheerfully. + +"Get him out!" he almost shouted. "Get him out before I lose my temper, +or they'll--or they'll take him out without his help!" + +The girl laid a supplicating hand on the broker's arm. + +"Go--go! Please go!" she pleaded. + +"All right," he replied. "If that's the way you want it, I'm willing." + +He turned and went into the inner room to get his hat and coat, while +John and Laura stood facing each other, without speaking. Brockton soon +reentered, and without a word moved in the direction of the door. The +others remained motionless. As the broker put his hand on the door, +Laura started forward. Turning to Madison, she pointed at the man who +was leaving. + +"Before he goes," she cried, "I want to tell you how I learned to +despise him. John, I know you don't believe me, but it's true--it's +true. I don't love anyone in the world but just you. I know you don't +think that it can be explained--maybe there isn't any explanation. I +couldn't help it. I was so poor, and I had to live. He wouldn't let me +work. He's let me live only one way, and I was hungry. Do you know what +that means? I was hungry and didn't have clothes to keep me warm, and I +tried, oh, John! I tried so hard to do the other thing--the right +thing--but I couldn't." + +He listened in silence. There was no anger in his eyes, no menace in +his attitude. He merely appeared dumbfounded, crushed; there was in his +face a look of mute, helpless astonishment, as a child might look when +it saw an edifice of sand carefully and lovingly erected, levelled to +the ground by the first careless wave. Almost apologetically he said: + +"I--I know I couldn't help much, and perhaps I could have forgiven you +if you hadn't lied to me. That's what hurt." + +He turned fiercely on Brockton, and approaching close so he could look +him straight in the eyes, he said contemptuously: + +"I expected you to lie; you're that kind of a man. You left me with a +shake of the hand, and you gave me your word, and you didn't keep it. +Why should you keep it? Why should anything make any difference to you? +Why, you pup, you've no right to live in the same world with decent +folks. Now you make yourself scarce, or take it from me, I'll just kill +you, that's all!" + +"I'll leave, Madison," replied the broker coolly; "but I'm not going to +let you think that I didn't do the right thing with you. She came to me +voluntarily. She said she wanted to come back. I told you she'd do that +when I was in Colorado; you didn't believe me. I told you that when she +did this sort of thing I'd let you know. I dictated a letter to her to +send to you, and I left it, sealed and stamped, in her hands to mail. +She didn't do it. If there's been a lie, she told it. I didn't." + +Madison looked at Laura, who hung her head in mute acknowledgment of +her guilt. As he suddenly realized how she had tricked him he turned +pale, and with a smothered cry sank down on one of the trunks. Until +this very moment he still believed in her. He could have forgiven her +returning to Brockton, everything; but she had deliberately lied to him +and deceived him. That he could never forgive. There was a moment's +silence, and Brockton advanced towards him. + +"You see! Why, my boy, whatever you think of me or the life I lead, I +wouldn't have had this come to you for anything in the world. No, I +wouldn't. My women don't mean a whole lot to me because I don't take +them seriously. I wish I had the faith and the youth to feel the way +you do. You're all in and broken up, but I wish I could be broken up +just once. I did what I thought was best for you because I didn't think +she could ever go through the way you wanted her to. I'm sorry it's all +turned out bad. Good-bye." + +He looked at John for a moment, as if expecting some reply, but the big +Westerner maintained a dogged silence. With a shrug of his shoulders +and without so much as glancing at Laura, Brockton strode to the door +and slammed it shut behind him. + +[Illustration: JOHN STOOD LOOKING AT HER IN SILENCE. + _Page 337._] + +Madison stood looking at her in silence. There was nothing more to say +or do. The broker was right. He had been a poor fool; he had taken this +woman too seriously. She was no better than all of her kind. Yet it +seemed as if there was something wrong somewhere. It had ended so +differently to what he expected. He would never believe in womankind +again. Slowly he made his way toward the door, while she, her heart +breaking, her face white as death, the hot tears streaming down her +cheeks, stood still, not daring to say a word or make a movement. His +drawn face and haunted eyes looked as though some great grief had +suddenly come into his life, a grief he could not understand. But he +gave her no chance to speak. He seemed to be feeling around for +something to say, some way to get out and away without further delay. +He went towards the door, and with a pitiful gesture of his hand, +seemed to be saying farewell forever. With a stifled sob, she darted +forward. + +"John, I----" + +He turned and looked at her sternly. + +"I'd be careful what I said if I were you. Don't try to make excuses. I +understand." + +"It's not excuses," she sobbed. "I want to tell you what's in my heart, +but I can't; it won't speak, and you don't believe my voice." + +"You'd better leave it unsaid." + +"But I must tell," she cried hysterically. "I can't let you go like +this." + +Going over to him, she made a weak attempt to put her arms around him; +but calmly, dispassionately, he took her hands and put them down. +Wildly, pleadingly, she went on: + +"I love you! I--how can I tell you--but I do, I do, and you won't +believe me." + +He remained silent for a moment, and then taking her by the hand, he +led her over to the chair and placed her in it. He drew back a few +steps, and in a gentle but firm tone, tinged with grief which carried +tremendous conviction with it, he said: + +"I think you do as far as you are able; but, Laura, I guess you don't +know what a decent sentiment is. You're not immoral, you're just +unmoral, kind o' all out of shape, and I'm afraid there isn't a +particle of hope for you. When we met neither of us had any reason to +be proud, but I believed that you would see in this the chance of +salvation which sometimes comes to a man and a woman fixed as we were +then. What had been had been. It was all in the great to-be for us, and +now, how you've kept your word! What little that promise meant, when I +thought you handed me a new lease of life!" + +She cowered before him, unable to say a word in her own defense, almost +wishing he would beat her. + +"You're killing me--killing me!" she cried in anguish. + +He shrugged his shoulders skeptically. + +"Don't make such a mistake," he replied ironically. "In a month you'll +recover. There will be days when you will think of me, just for a +moment, and then it will be all over. With you it is the easiest way, +and it always will be. You'll go on and on until you're finally left a +wreck, just the type of the common woman. And you'll sink until you're +down to the very bed-rock of depravity. I pity you." + +Laura quickly raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were swollen, +her face haggard and drawn. Madison found himself wondering how he +could ever have thought her even good looking. Her voice was metallic +and hard. + +"You'll never leave me to do that. I'll kill myself!" she cried +hoarsely. + +"Perhaps that's the only thing left for you to do," he replied +cynically; "but you'll not do it. It's easier to live." + +He went to get his hat and coat. Then he turned and looked at her. +Laura rose at the same time. There was an unnatural glitter in her +eyes. She breathed hard. Her bosom rose and fell spasmodically. + +"John," she cried exaltedly, "I said I'd kill myself, and I mean every +word of it. If it's the only thing to do, I'll do it, and I'll do it +before your very eyes!" + +Quickly she snatched up the satchel, opened it, and took out the +revolver. Then she stood facing him, waiting. + +"You understand," she cried hysterically, "that when your hand touches +that door I'm going to shoot myself. I will, so help me God!" + +He halted and looked back at her, a covert smile of contempt hovering +about his mouth. + +"Kill yourself--before me!" he exclaimed ironically. "You'll wait a +minute, won't you?" Returning to the inner room, he called out: "Annie! +Annie!" + +The colored maid came running in. + +"Yessuh!" + +Madison pointed to Laura. + +"You see your mistress there has a pistol in her hand?" + +The girl, frightened out of her wits, could only gurgle an incoherent: + +"Yessuh!" + +"She wants to kill herself," said Madison. "I just called you to +witness that the act is entirely voluntary on her part." Turning to the +frenzied, hysterical woman, he said indifferently: "Now go ahead!" + +In a state bordering on collapse, Laura dropped the pistol on the +floor. + +"John, I--can't----" + +Madison waved the maid away. + +"Annie, she's evidently changed her mind. You may go." + +"But, Miss Laura, Ah----" + +"You may go!" he cried peremptorily. + +Bewildered and not understanding, the negress disappeared through the +_portieres_. In the same gentle tone, but carrying with it an almost +frigid conviction, he went on: + +"You didn't have the nerve. I knew you wouldn't. For a moment you +thought the only decent thing for you to do was to die, and yet you +couldn't go through. I am sorry for you--more sorry than I can tell." + +He took a step toward the door. + +"You're going--you're going?" she wailed. + +"Yes," he replied firmly. + +She wept softly. Between her sobs she cried: + +"And--and--you never thought that perhaps I'm frail, and weak, and a +woman, and that now, maybe, I need your strength, and you might give it +to me, and it might be better. I want to lean on you--lean on you, +John. I know I need some one." Coaxingly she entreated him; in her +tenderest, most seductive tones she made a last desperate effort to win +him back. "Aren't you going to let me? Won't you give me another +chance?" she pleaded tearfully. + +He repelled her coldly. + +"I gave you your chance, Laura," he replied. + +"Give me another!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. + +He struggled with her, disentangling himself from her frantic embrace. +Pulling away, he said determinedly: + +"You leaned the wrong way. Good-bye." + +Going quickly to the door before she could again stop him, he opened +the door and disappeared. An instant later she heard the outer corridor +door slam. He was gone--forever! + +She uttered a shrill scream of despair. + +"John--John--I----" + +Only a dead silence answered her frenzied, pitiful call. John was no +longer there to hear her. He was gone from her--forever. She would +never look on his face again. She could not blame him. She alone was at +fault. But what a blow! Her dream of a life of happiness with the man +she loved, her dream of self-redemption and regeneration, all that was +blasted at one stroke! And now Will Brockton was gone also. She had +lost them both. Abandoned and despised by the man she loved and also by +the man to whom she owed everything, her future life was a blank. She +must begin her career all over again. She had sunk to what she was +before. For several minutes she crouched motionless on the trunk, her +entire body shaken by convulsive sobbing. Then suddenly she sat up and +looked wildly around her. Rising in a dazed fashion from the trunk, she +staggered a few steps across the room. All at once her eyes caught the +gleam of the pistol lying on the floor. With a loud cry of mingled +despair and anger, she picked the weapon up, and, crossing to the +bureau, threw it in a drawer. Then, with a sigh of intense relief, she +called out loudly: + +"Annie! Annie!" + +The negress put her head through the _portieres_, her eyes as big as +saucers. She had heard the loud talking, but had been afraid to come +near the room. Looking at her mistress with blank astonishment, she +exclaimed: + +"Ain't yuh goin' away, Miss Laura?" + +[Illustration: SHE CROUCHED DOWN MOTIONLESS ON THE TRUNK. + _Page 344._] + +By a supreme effort, Laura pulled herself together. She was a fool to +show such weakness. Why should she allow these men to interfere with +her and dictate to her? Defiantly she cried: + +"No, I'm not! I'm going to stay right here. Open these trunks. Take out +those clothes. Get me my prettiest dress. Hurry up!" Going to the +mirror, while Annie obeyed her orders, she added: "Get my new hat! +Dress up my body and paint up my face--it's all they've left of me." In +a lower, agonized tone, to herself, she added bitterly: "They've taken +my soul away with them!" + +"Yes'm, yes'm," cried Annie, happy at anything which promised a change. + +Opening the big trunk, the negress took out the handsome dresses which +had been so carefully packed only a few moments before. Then +unfastening a box, she lifted out the large picture hat with plumes +which her mistress took from her. As Laura stood in front of the +mirror, putting her hat on and touching up her complexion to hide the +traces of recent tears, she forced herself to hum. + +"Doll me up, Annie!" she cried lightly, as if by sheer force of will +power compelling herself to be light hearted and gay. + +"Yuh goin' out, Miss Laura?" + +"Yes, I'm going to Broadway to make a hit, and to h--ll with the rest!" + +As she spoke, a hurdy-gurdy in the street under her window began to +play the tune of "_Bon-bon Buddy, My Chocolate Drop_." Laura stopped +her humming and listened. There was something in this rag-time melody +which at that moment particularly appealed to her. It was peculiarly +suggestive of the low life, the criminality and prostitution that +constitute the night excitement of that section of New York City known +as "The Tenderloin." The common tune and its vulgar associations was +like the spreading before her eyes of a vivid panorama showing with +terrific realism the inevitable depravity that awaited her. Rudely torn +from every ideal which she had so weakly endeavored to grasp, she had +been, thrown back into the mire and slime at the very moment when her +emancipation seemed to be assured. Standing before the tall mirror, +with her flashy dress on one arm and her equally exaggerated type of +picture hat in the other, she recognized in herself the type of woman +depicted by the vulgar street melody, and the full realization of her +ignominy came to her now, perhaps for the first time. + +The negress, in the happiness of continuing to serve her mistress in +her questionable career, picked up the tune as she started to unpack +the finery which only a short time before had been so carefully and +lovingly laid away in the trunk. Shaken by convulsive sobs, resigned to +what she was powerless to prevent, Laura turned and tottered towards +the bedroom. Then, as the true significance of her pitiful position +dawned upon her, she sank, limp and helpless, on the sofa, gasping +pathetically: + +"Oh, God! Oh, my God!" + +In the street below the hurdy-gurdy continued grinding out "_Bon-bon +Buddy, My Chocolate Drop_," with the negress idly accompanying it. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EASIEST WAY*** + + +******* This file should be named 21116.txt or 21116.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/1/21116 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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