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diff --git a/48626.txt b/48626.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 37f75a1..0000000 --- a/48626.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11550 +0,0 @@ - MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Mollie's Substitute Husband -Author: Max McConn -Release Date: April 01, 2015 [EBook #48626] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND -*** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - - [Transcriber's note: The frontispiece was missing from - the source book] - - - - - *MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE - HUSBAND* - - - BY - - MAX McCONN - - - - _WITH FRONTISPIECE BY_ - EDWARD C. CASWELL - - - - THE RYERSON PRESS - TORONTO - 1920 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1920 - BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC. - - PRINTED IN U. S. A. - - - - - *CONTENTS* - -CHAPTER - -I "The Professor" on a Spree -II The Prettiest Girl -III Friendly Strangers -IV An Unscrupulous Reformer -V Alicia and the Motives of Men -VI Stage-Setting -VII Boy and Girl -VIII Passages with Mayor Black -IX Aunt Mary -X A Senator Missing -XI Confessions of Waiter No. 73 -XII Grapefruit and Telegrams -XIII A Change of Management -XIV Holding the Fort -XV Council of War -XVI The Senatorial Dinner -XVII A Devious Journey -XVIII Jennie -XIX A New Antagonist -XX An Eventful Supper Party -XXI Flash Lights -XXII Virtue Triumphant -XXIII Return -XXIV The Reform League -XXV Second Council of War -XXVI The Business of Being an Impostor -XXVII The Code Telegram -XXVIII Simpson as Detective -XXIX The Final Dilemma -XXX Mollie June - - - - - *MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND* - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *"THE PROFESSOR" ON A SPREE* - - -John Merriam, Principal of the High School at Riceville, -Illinois--"Professor" Merriam, as he was universally called by the -citizens of Riceville--was wickedly, carnally, gloriously happy. He was -having an unwonted spree. - -I fear the reader will be shocked. The principal of a high school, he -will say, has no right to a spree, even an occasional one. The -"Professor" has girl students in his classes--mostly girls, indeed, and -usually the prettiest ones in town--and women teachers under his -supervision. Every seventh day he teaches a young people's class in a -Sunday School. He makes addresses at meetings of the Y.P.S.C.E., the -Y.M.C.A., and other alphabetically designated societies that make for -righteousness and decorum. He should at all times and in all places be -a model, an exemplar, to the budding young men and women of the -community in general and his school in particular. - -In this reasoning the reader is in strict accord with what the sentiment -of all Riceville would have been if it had known--if it could have -known. - -Nevertheless, it is the regrettable and shocking fact that John Merriam -was sitting on that pleasant April evening in the Peacock Cabaret of the -Hotel De Soto in the wicked city of Chicago. He was attired in evening -clothes, a fact which, in itself would have seemed both odd and -reprehensible to Riceville, and he was alone at a tiny table with a -yellow-silk-shaded lamp. He had just been guided to that table, and -pending the arrival of a waiter, he was gazing eagerly, boyishly about -him at such delights as the somewhat garish Peacock Cabaret displayed. - -For John Merriam, though a "professor," was young. He was only -twenty-eight. He was tall and blond and athletic, as young men who grow -up on farms in the Middle West and then go to college have a way of -being. And after his season of strenuous and highly virtuous labours at -Riceville he was really hungry, keen, for something--well, just a little -less virtuous. - -A distinguished looking gentleman in a dinner jacket, conspicuously -labeled with a number, somewhat haughtily and negligently approached, -bearing a menu card. - -About three paces away this gentleman, having glanced at young Merriam, -fairly stopped and stared at him. An odd expression showed upon his -face--an expression, one would almost have said, of intense animosity. -Then, as he still stared, one might have decided that his look betokened -perplexity. He winked his eyes several times and once more scrutinised -his waiting guest. At length--perhaps ten seconds had passed--his face -slowly, wonderingly cleared, his usual air of vacant indifference -returned, and he advanced and placed the menu card in Merriam's hands. -The latter, still drinking in the sights and sounds of his unaccustomed -environment, had noticed nothing. - -Now it is always prudent to note a waiter's number when he first -presents himself, for in case he should decide to begin his summer -vacation immediately after taking your order you may need to mention his -number to the head waiter. In this case the number was 73. - -The hauteur and negligence displayed were partly habitual--professional, -so to speak--but were intensified perhaps by the reaction from the -emotion, whatever it was, which he had apparently just -experienced--perhaps also by the look of alert and genuine pleasure on -Merriam's face. Such a look did not wholly commend itself or him to a -sophisticated metropolitan taste. What right had a patron of the -Peacock Cabaret to look really pleased? It was hardly decent--and -argued a small tip. - -Inwardly Merriam, now aware of the waiter's presence, reacted acutely to -this clearly perceptible disdain. Which shows how young and how rural -he was. We maturer, urban folk are never, of course, in the least -nonplused by those contemptuous, blase silences of waiters who possess -the bearing and manner of a governor or a capitalist. - -But John Merriam had been excellent in amateur dramatics at college, and -he now roused himself to a magnificent histrionic effort in the role of -"man of the world." - -He pushed the menu card aside without looking at it. - -"A clam cocktail, please, and a stein of beer," he murmured, low enough -to force the distinguished one to unbend slightly in order to catch the -words. - -"Yes, sir," said Waiter No. 73, with a tentative suggestion of respect -in his tone. A customer who did not bother to look at the menu might be -worth while after all. - -"And then what?" - -"I'll see how I feel then," said Merriam with a half yawn. - -"Yes, sir," said Waiter No. 73, almost courteously, and departed at a -pace slightly quickened over that of his approach, as a man strolling at -complete leisure will instinctively increase the tempo of his step if he -chances to recall a definite engagement on the day after to-morrow. - -Merriam grinned delightedly. He had put it across--his little piece of -acting. He had measurably imposed his role on his audience of one; at -least he had shaken him. - -And then--I shudder when I recall the views on nicotine of the Board of -Education at Riceville--he drew from his pocket a package of cigarettes, -and took a match from the table, and lit a cigarette, and sent a volume -of smoke out through his nostrils--proving, alas, that it was not his -first indulgence,--and, with a sigh that might almost be described as -ecstatic, turned his attention again to the scene about him. - -That scene was piquant to him--after the ugly dining room of his -boarding house at Riceville and the barren assembly hall of the High -School--to a degree almost incredible to persons more habituated to the -Peacock Cabaret and similar resorts. Not being quite so fresh from -Riceville, nor yet the advertising manager of the Hotel De Soto, I -cannot, I fear, paint the prospect as Merriam saw it. I shall not be -able to conceal some mental reservations as to its charms. The purple -peacocks upon the walls and ceiling, from which the restaurant took its -name, were certainly a trifle over-gorgeous, just as the music which the -orchestra intermittently dispensed was too much syncopated. Again, the -scores of small tables, each with its silk-shaded lamp, its slim glass -vase for a single rosebud, its water bottle bearing the arms of the -Chevalier De Soto, and its ash receptacle--all alike as shoe boxes in a -shoe shop are alike,--might to a tired fancy suggest a certain monotony -of pleasure, a too-much-standardised, ready-made brand of bliss. The -small, skimped stage, with its undeniably banal curtain, and the crowded -dancing floor did not really promise unlimited delights. Some -perception of all this was apparent in the faces and bearing of many of -the white-shirt-fronted men who sat at the scores of tables and of the -women who were with them, however bird-of-paradise-like the raiment of -the latter might be. Not a few indeed displayed an air of languor and -ennui that might have won approval even from Waiter No. 73. - -But in speaking thus of the Peacock Cabaret I am stepping outside my -story, violating unity of point of view--in short, committing a heinous -literary crime. For to Merriam at that moment the screaming purple -peacocks, the regiments of rosebuds, the musical comedy melodies, the -gay attire and bare shoulders of the women, and even the tired look of -his fellow-diners, which he interpreted as sophistication rather than -simple boredom, were thrillingly symbolical of all the delights which -the great world held and which were absent from Riceville. And when -Waiter No. 73 leisurely returned, to find him outwardly almost too near -asleep to keep his cigarette going, and deposited his clam cocktail and -the wicked stein before him, and at the same moment the orchestra became -more noisy than ever, and all the lights except those upon the tables -went out, and the stage curtain rose upon a short-skirted chorus, he was -really in a sort of Omar Khayyam paradise. It was lucky that Waiter No. -73 had again departed to those unknown regions where waiters spend the -bulk of their time, for Merriam could not have concealed the zest with -which he alternately ate and drank and surveyed the moderately comely -demoiselles upon the little stage. - -Having finished his cocktail and drunk some of his beer and seen the -curtain descend on the first "act" of the cabaret's dramatic -entertainment, Merriam lit another cigarette, shifted his chair, and -settled himself to await the probable future return of his servitor. -His thoughts dwelt contentedly on the evening before him. For after his -meal he would have a stroll with a cigar in the spring twilight (it was -barely six-thirty then) through the noisy, brightly lighted streets of -the Loop, which never failed to thrill him with a sense of a somehow -wicked vastness, power, and riches in the great city of which they were -the center. And then he was going to the "Follies." He fingered the -small envelope in his pocket which held his ticket. And after the show -he would have a supper in another cabaret. - -Beyond that he did not let his fancy wander. For after that there was -nothing for it but to catch the 2:00 A.M. train on the Illinois Central -that would carry him back to Riceville for the remaining six weeks of -the school year. He had come up to Chicago on this spring day--a -Tuesday it was--to attend a convention of high-school principals and to -engage a couple of new teachers for the next year, to replace two that -were to be married in June. And he had faithfully done these things. -And now he was giving himself just this one evening of amusement--two -cabaret meals and a "show," sauced, so to speak, with a little tobacco -and beer and the wearing of his evening clothes. Surely whatever -Riceville might have thought, he will not seem to most of us very -derelict from the austere ideals of his profession. - -The only real point against him--most of us might argue--lies in the -fact that when, you touch even the outermost fringes of the night life -of a city, you are never quite certain what may come to you. For there -are things happening all about you, under the conventional, monotonous -surface--things amusing and things terrible--men and women playing with -the fire of every known human passion,--and if the finger of some -adventure reaches out for you you may not be able to resist its lure, -perhaps even to escape its clutch. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *THE PRETTIEST GIRL* - - -I have said that Merriam had shifted his chair a little as he lit his -second cigarette. A moment later he was looking very hard at a certain -pretty woman at a table half way across the room. His heart stopped. -At least that is the phrase a novelist seems to be required to use to -indicate the sudden pulse of amazement and pleasure and alarm which he -certainly felt. - -The young woman at whom he was staring had a name which is very -important for this story and which I shall presently tell you, but in -John Merriam's mind her name was "the prettiest girl," and her other -name, which he seldom dared whisper to his heart, was "Mollie June." -She was from Riceville--hence the alarm with which his pleasure was -mixed,--and during his first four months of teaching, three years -before, she had been in his senior class in the High School--the -"prettiest girl" in the class and in the school and in the town--and in -the State and the United States and the world, if you had asked John -Merriam. Advanced algebra with Mollie June in the class had been the -most golden of sciences--pleasure squared, delight cubed, and bliss to -the _n_th power. I am not myself absolutely convinced of Mollie June's -proficiency in solving quadratic equations, yet the official records of -the Riceville High School show that she received the highest mark in the -class. - -But she was the daughter of James P. Partridge, the owner of all -Riceville; that is to say, of the coal mines outside the town, of the -grain elevator, of the street car and electric light company, and of the -First National Bank. Who was John Merriam, the son of a poor farmer in -a southern county, who had worked his way through college and come out -with nothing but a B.S. degree, a football reputation that was quite -unnegotiable, and three hundred dollars of fraternity debts--an enormous -sum,--to mix anything warmer or livelier than a^2-b^2 in his thoughts of -a class to which Mollie June Partridge deigned to belong? Even if -Mollie June herself did come up to his desk in the assembly room two or -three times a week for help in her algebra and spend most of the time -asking him about college instead, and join his Young People's Class, -which she had previously refused to attend, and allow him to "see her -home" from church sociables, and compel that docile magnate, John P. -Partridge, her father, to invite the new "professor" to dinner twice -during the half year? As well almost might a humble tutor in the castle -of a feudal lord have raised his eyes to the baron's daughter. - -Almost, but not quite. After all this is a free republic. Even a poor -pedagogue is a citizen with a vote and a potential candidate for the -presidency--which at least two poor pedagogues have attained. So John -Merriam permitted himself to be very happy during those four months and -was not in the least hopeless. Only he saw that he must bide his time. - -But early in January Mollie June left school, and in a few days it came -out that she had left to be married--married to Senator Norman! - -Senator Norman was the famous "boy senator" from Illinois--at the time -of his election the youngest man who had ever sat in the upper house of -Congress. The ruddiness of his cheeks, the abundance of his wavy blond -hair, and the athletic jauntiness of his carriage won votes whenever he -stumped the State. They went far to counteract malicious insinuations -as to the means by which he was rolling up a fortune and his solidity -with "interests" which the proletariat viewed with suspicion. - -And now, having been a widower for eighteen months--his first wife was -older than he and had brought him money,--he had stayed for a week-end -during the Christmas holidays with James P. Partridge, who was a cousin -of the Senator's first wife and his political lieutenant for a certain -group of counties, and had seen Mollie June and wanted her and asked for -her and got her, as George Norman always asked for and got whatever he -wanted. - -All this was, of course, in John Merriam's mind as he gazed across a -dozen tables in the Peacock Cabaret at the unchanged profile of the -prettiest girl--that is to say, Mrs. Senator Norman. And with it came -an acute revival of the desolation of that January and February at -Riceville, when he had perceived with the Hebrew sage that "in much -learning"--or in little, for that matter--"is much weariness," and that -algebra should have been buried with the medieval Arabians who invented -it--when even the State championship in basket ball, won by the -Riceville Five under his coaching, was only a trouble and a bore. - -There is no doubt he stared rudely. At least it would have been rudely -if his eyes had held the look which eyes that stare at pretty women -commonly hold. But such a look as stood in Merriam's eyes can hardly be -rude, however intent and prolonged it may be. - -He was merely entranced in the literal sense of that word. Her girlish -white shoulders--he had never seen her shoulders before--in Riceville -women no more have shoulders than they have legs--the soft brown hair -over her ears--even the mode of the day, which called for close net -effects and tight knobs, could not conceal its fine softness--the colour -in her cheeks, which unquestionably shamed all the neighbouring -rosebuds--the quite inexplicable deliciousness of those particular small -curves described by the lines of her nose and chin and throat as he saw -them in half profile--were more than he could draw his eyes away from -for an unconscionable number of seconds. Of her charmingly simple and -unquestionably very expensive frock as a separate fact, and of the thin, -pale, and elderly, but gorgeously arrayed woman who was her companion, -he had no clear perception, but undoubtedly they both contributed, along -with the lights and colours and music of the Peacock Cabaret, to the -deplorable confusion of his mind. - -Out of that confusion there presently arose certain clear images and -tones and words, which made up his memory of the last time he had seen -and spoken with the present Mrs. Senator Norman. - -It was at and after a miscellaneous kind of young people's entertainment -which occurred at the Methodist Church on the evening of that bitter day -on which the news of her engagement to Senator Norman had run like a -prairie fire through the streets and homes of Riceville, fiercely -incinerating all other topics of conversation, and consuming also the -joy in life, the ambition, the very youth, it seemed to him, of John -Merriam. He would not have gone to that entertainment if he could have -escaped. But there were to be charades, and he had arranged and coached -most of them and was to be in several. He "simply had to go," as -Ricevillians might have said. - -She was there with her mother. When had she ever come just with her -mother, that is to say, without a male escort, before? That fact alone -was symbolical of the closing of the gates of matrimony upon her. -Naturally, in his pain he followed his primitive and childish instincts -and avoided her. - -But he was aware--he was almost sure--of her eyes continually following -him throughout the evening, and during "refreshments" she deliberately -came up to him and said that her mother was obliged to leave early, and -would he see her home? Well, of course, if she asked him, he had to. I -am afraid that the tone if not the words of his reply said as much, and -Mollie June had turned away with quick tears in her eyes. Yet I -question whether she was really hurt by his rudeness. For why should he -be rude to-night when he had never been so before unless he--to use the -most expressive of Americanisms--"cared"? - -For the rest of the evening, as a result of those tears, which he had -seen, it was his eyes that followed her, while hers avoided him. But he -did not speak with her again until "seeing-home" time arrived. - -Mollie June lingered till the very end of everything. Perhaps the little -girl in her--for she was barely eighteen--clung to this last shred of -the familiar, homely social life of her girlhood before she should be -plunged into the frightful brilliance of real "society" in terrific -places known as Chicago and Washington--as a senator's wife! - -But at last they were walking together towards her home. - -"Take my arm, please," said Mollie June. - -The boys in Riceville always take the girls' arms at night, though never -in the daytime. John ought to have taken her arm before. He took it. - -"Have you heard that I am going to be married?" asked Mollie June--as if -she did not know that everybody in the county knew it by that time. - -"Yes," said John, his tone as succinct as his monosyllable. - -But girls learn early to deal with the conversational difficulties and -recalcitrances of males under stress of emotion. - -"It means leaving school and Riceville and--everything," said Mollie -June. - -John could not fail to catch the note of pitifulness in her sentence. -If the prospective marriage had been with any one less dazzling than -George Norman, he might have reacted more properly. As it was, he -replied with a stilted impersonality which might have been caught from -the bright stars shining through the bare branches under which they -walked. - -"You will have a very rich and brilliant life," he said. - -"I suppose so," said Mollie June. - -They walked on, he still obediently clutching her arm, in silence; -conversation not accompaniable with laughter is so difficult an art for -youth. - -Presently Mollie June tried again. - -"Aren't you sorry I'm leaving the school--Mr. Merriam?" - -"I'm very sorry indeed," responded "Professor" Merriam. "You ought to -have stayed to graduate." - -"I don't care about graduating," said Mollie June. - -Again their footsteps echoed in the cold January silence. - -Then Mollie June made a third attempt: - -"You look ever so much like Mr. Norman." - -"I know it," said Merriam. "We're related." - -"Oh, _are you_?" - -"On my mother's side. We're second cousins. But the two branches of the -family have nothing to do with each other now." - -"He has the same hair and the same shape of head and the same way of -sitting and moving," Mollie June declared with enthusiasm, "and almost -the same eyes and voice. Only his are----" - -"Older!" said John Merriam rudely. - -"Yes," said Mollie June. - -Distances are not great in Riceville. For this reason the ceremony of -"seeing home" is usually termed by a circuitous route, sometimes -involving the entire circumference of the "nice" part of the town. But -on this occasion John and Mollie June had gone directly, as though their -object had been to arrive. They reached her home--a matter of two -blocks from the church-before another word had been said. - -There Mollie June carefully extricated her arm from his mechanical grasp -and confronted him. - -He looked at her face, peeping out of the fur collar of her coat in the -starlight, and for one instant into her eyes. - -She was saying: "I am very grateful to you, Merriam, for all the help -you have given me--in--algebra." - -He ought to have kissed her. She wanted him to. He half divined as -much--afterwards. - -But the awkward, callow, Anglo-Saxon, rural, pedagogical cub in him -replied, "I am glad if I have been able to help you in anything." - -That, I judge, was too much for Mollie June. She held out her little -gloved hand. - -"Good-bye, Mr. Merriam!" - -He took her hand. And now appears the advantage of a college education, -including amateur dramatics and courses in English poetry and romantic -fiction. He did what no other swain in Riceville could have done. He -raised her hand to his lips and kissed it! At least he kissed the glove -which tightly enclosed the hand. - -"Good-bye, Mollie June!" he said, using that name for the first time. - -Then he dropped her hand, somewhat suddenly, I fear, turned abruptly, -and walked rapidly away. - -As to what Mollie June said or thought or felt, how should I know? -There was nothing for her to do but to go into the house, and that is -what she did. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *FRIENDLY STRANGERS* - - -John Merriam raised his eyes from the table-cloth on which they had -rested while these images from the distant past--two and one-half years -ago--moved across the screen of his memory. To his now mature -perceptions the stupidity and gaucherie of his own part in that -scene--save for the redeeming kissing of the glove--were clearly -apparent, and were for the moment almost as painful to him as the fact -that Mollie June was another man's wife. - -He glanced around, avoiding only the table at which Mrs. Senator Norman -sat. The glory was gone from the Peacock Cabaret. The garishness of -the peacocks, the tin-panniness of the music, the futility of beer and -cigarettes and evening clothes, were desolatingly revealed to him. He -put his cigarette aside, to smoke itself up unregarded on the ash tray. - -It had been his duty to "forget," and it is neither more nor less than -justice to say that after a fashion he had succeeded in doing so. His -winter and spring, three years ago, had been miserable; but he had -undeniably enjoyed his summer vacation, and had found interest in his -work again in the fall. To be sure, the edge was gone from his ambition. -He had stuck ploddingly at teaching, too indifferent to try to better -himself. Still he had not been actively unhappy. But now---- - -He was diverted by the return of Waiter No. 73. No need of play-acting -now to conceal any unsophisticated delight in his surroundings. But he -must pull himself together. He must not exhibit to the world, as -incarnated in Waiter No. 73, a depression as boyish as his previous -pleasure. He must still be the stoical, tranquil man of the world, who -knows women and tears them from his heart when need be. It was the same -role--with a difference! - -"What next, sir?" - -Merriam glanced hastily at the menu card and ordered a steak with French -fried potatoes and a lettuce-and-tomato salad. He was not up to an -attack on any unfamiliar viands. - -As he gave his order he was aware of a party of three persons, seated a -little to his left--the opposite direction from the fateful spot -inhabited by Mollie June,--who seemed to be taking particular note of -him. And as he lit another cigarette after the waiter had left him he -noticed them again. Unquestionably they were furtively regarding him. -Now and then they exchanged remarks of which he was sure he was the -subject. - -The three persons included a square-jawed man of about forty-five, a -pale, benevolent-looking priest and a very beautiful woman. The woman -had not only shoulders and arms but also a great deal of bosom and back, -all dazzlingly, powderedly fair and ideally plump. She had black hair -and eyes--brilliantly, even aggressively, black. Her gown was a -lavender silk net with spangles. Her age--well, she was certainly older -than Mollie June and certainly within, safely within, "the age at which -women cease to be interesting to men," whatever that age may be. - -Our youthful man of the world was a little embarrassed at first by the -scrutiny of this gorgeous trio. He glanced quickly down at his own -attire, as a girl might have done. But there could be nothing wrong -with his evening clothes. (A man is so safe in that respect.) They -were only five years old, having been acquired, in a heroic burst of -extravagance, during his senior year in college. He wanted to put his -hand up to his white bow to make sure it was not askew, but restrained -himself. - -Presently Merriam began to enjoy the attention he was receiving. If one -must play a part, it is pleasant to have an audience. It helped him to -keep his eyes off Mollie June. He began to give attention to the -smoking of his cigarette. He handled it with nonchalant grace. He -exhaled smoke through his nostrils. He recalled an envied -accomplishment of his college days and carefully blew a couple of -tolerably perfect smoke rings. And he wished that Mollie June would -turn and see him in his evening clothes. - -Presently the clerical gentleman, after an earnest colloquy with the -square-jawed one, rose and came across to Merriam's table, while the -other two now openly watched. - -The priest rested two white hands on the edge of the table and bent over -him with a friendly smile. - -"Will you pardon a frank question from a stranger?" he asked. - -"I guess a question won't hurt me," said Merriam. - -At this simple reply the cleric straightened up quickly as if startled -and looked at Merriam closely and curiously. Then he said: - -"Are you by any chance related to Senator Norman?" - -"Yes, I am," said Merriam. - -"May I ask what the relationship is?" - -Merriam told him. - -"Thank you," said the priest. "The resemblance is really remarkable. -And we saw you looking at Mrs. Norman. Do you know her?" - -"Yes. I knew her before--before she--was married." - -"I see. Thank you so much." - -The inquisitive priest returned to his friends, who appeared to listen -intently to his report. - -At the same time Waiter No. 73 arrived with Merriam's steak and salad. - -He ate self-consciously, feeling himself still under observation from -the other table. But when he was half way through his salad his -attention was effectually distracted from those watchers. For Mollie -June and her companion had risen to go. - -Merriam put down his fork and looked at her. She was really beautiful to -any eyes--so fresh and young and alive amid the tawdry ennui of her -surroundings, a human girl among the labouring ghosts of a _danse -macabre_. To Merriam she was--what you will--radiant, divine. He -wished he had not lost a moment from looking at her since he first saw -her. - -A waiter had brought a fur cloak and now held it for her. As she -adjusted it about her shoulders she glanced around and saw Merriam. - -For a moment she looked straight at him. Merriam would have sworn that -her colour heightened ever so little and then paled. She smiled a -mechanical little smile, bowed slightly, spoke to her companion, and -threaded her way quickly among tables to an exit. - -"I beg your pardon!" - -Merriam started and looked up--to find the black-eyed, white-bosomed -woman from the other table standing beside him. He was conscious of a -faint fragrance, which a more sophisticated person would have recognised -as that of an extremely expensive perfume, widely advertised under the -name of a famous opera singer. - -He rose mechanically, dropping his napkin. - -"No, no," she smiled. "Won't you sit down--and let me sit down a -moment, too?" - -She took the chair opposite him. - -"My name is Alicia Wayward," she said. There was a kind of deliberate -sweetness in her tone. - -John Merriam got back somehow into his chair and looked at her, but did -not reply. His eyes saw the face of Mollie June, peeping out of her -furs, as on that last night at Riceville, her changing colour, her -mechanical smile, and the hurrying away without giving him a chance to -go to her for a single word. - -"Won't you tell me your name?" said Alicia, with the barest suggestion -in her voice of sharpness in the midst of sweet. - -"John Merriam." - -"And you are a second cousin of Senator Norman?" - -"Yes." - -"I am an old friend of Senator Norman's," said Alicia. "We are all -friends of his." She nodded towards the other table. "And we should -very much like to have a little private talk with you about a very -important matter.--How do you do, Simpson?" - -Merriam looked up again. Waiter No. 73 was standing over them. But he -was a transformed being. The ramrod had somehow been extracted from his -spine, and his stern features were transfigured in an expression of -happy and ingratiating servility. - -"Very well, Miss Alicia," he said. - -"Simpson used to be my father's butler," explained Miss Wayward. "We've -never had so a butler since." - -"Thank you, Miss Alicia," said Simpson fervently. - -"Send me the head waiter," said Miss Wayward. - -"Yes, Miss Alicia," and Simpson departed almost with alacrity. - -"You are just ready for your dessert, I see," said Alicia. "I am going -to ask the head waiter to change us both to one of the private rooms and -give us Simpson to wait on us. Then I can present you to my friends, -and we can have the private talk I spoke of. You don't mind, do you?" - -Merriam thought of the "Follies." But the idea of the "Follies" bored -him after seeing Mollie June. And one cannot refuse a lady. He -recaptured some fraction of his manners. - -"I shall be pleased," he said. - -"Thank you," said Alicia, with augmented sweetness. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *AN UNSCRUPULOUS REFORMER* - - -The head waiter arrived. Could they be removed to a private -dining-room? Most certainly they could. Yes, Simpson should serve -them. Obviously anything that Miss Alicia Wayward desired could be done, -must be done, and it was done. - -They ordered ices and _cafe noir_. - -"And a liqueur?" suggested Alicia. - -Merriam assented. - -"What should you prefer?" - -Now Merriam knew the name of just one liqueur. He made prompt use of -that solitary scrap of information. - -"Benedictine, perhaps," he suggested, as who should say, "Out of all the -world's vintages my mature choice among liqueurs is Benedictine." - -"Good," smiled Alicia. (I am afraid she was not effectually deceived.) - -Merriam was introduced first to Father Murray. - -"He isn't a real Father," said Alicia. "He's not a Romanist. Only a -paltry Anglican. But he's so very, very High Church that a layman can -hardly tell the difference." - -Father Murray was deprecatory but unruffled. A Christian priest must -forgive all things. - -"This is Mr. Philip Rockwell of the Reform League," said Alicia. "His -fame has doubtless reached you. 'One-Thing-at-a-Time Rockwell.'" - -His fame had not reached Merriam, but the latter bowed and shook hands -as though it had, instinctively meeting the stare in the other man's -eyes with an unblinking steadiness of his own. - -After the introductions Merriam glanced about him with perhaps -insufficiently concealed curiosity. He had never been in a private -dining-room before, and this adventure was beginning to interest him. It -was better than spending his evening--his one evening--in sad thoughts -of Mollie June. - -The room was just large enough to afford comfortable space for a table -for four persons, with a small sideboard to serve from. It was really -rather pretty. Subdued purple hangings at the door and windows and a -frieze of small peacocks above the plate rail indicated its affiliation, -so to speak, with the Peacock Cabaret. There were attractive French -prints in garland frames on the walls. The table was charmingly laid, -with a bowl of yellow roses in the center, and the ices were already -served. On the sideboard the coffee in a silver pot was bubbling over -an alcohol flame, and there was a long bottle which Merriam correctly -interpreted as the container of his choice among liqueurs. - -"This is much cosier, isn't it?" said Alicia. - -She took the head of the table. - -"Father Murray shall sit opposite me," she said, "to see that I behave. -You, Mr. Merriman, shall sit on my right, as the guest of honour. That -leaves this place for you, Philip. Reformers must be content with what -they can get." - -Merriam mustered the gallantry to hold Alicia's chair for her, and was -warmed by the approving smile with which she thanked him. He had not -especially liked Alicia at first, but she grew upon him. - -They consumed ices, and Alicia conversed, in the sprightly fashion she -affected, with Merriam. The other two men hardly participated at all. - -In the course of that conversation Alicia artlessly, tactfully, but -efficiently pumped Merriam. By the time Simpson was pouring the -sweet-scented wine into thimble-like glasses she--and her -companions--were in possession of all the substantial facts of his brief -biography and had guessed the secret of his heart. They knew of his -boyhood on the farm, of his father's death, and his mother's a few years -later, of his college days, with something of their athletic, dramatic, -and fraternity incidents, of his teaching at Riceville, of the Riceville -football and basket-ball teams, of the occasion for this trip to -Chicago--and of Mollie June. - -At length the sherbet glasses were removed and some of the coffees, -including Merriam's, refilled, and they all lit cigarettes. Merriam was -pleasantly startled when Alicia too took a cigarette. He had read, of -course, of women smoking, but he had never seen it, or expected to see -it with his own eyes, except on the stage. It was more shocking to his -secret soul than any amount of bosom and back. - -"You need not wait, Simpson," said Alicia. "We'll ring if we need you -again." - -When the waiter had withdrawn Philip Rockwell took the center of the -stage. He tilted back in his chair and abruptly began to talk. Part of -the time he looked straight ahead of him as if addressing an audience, -but now and again he turned his head and aimed his discourse straight at -Merriam. He made only a pretence of smoking. - -"Mr. Merriam," he said, "by a curious chance--a freak of nature, as it -were--you, who have thus far taken no part in the politics of the State -and Nation, are in a position to render a great service this very night -to the cause of Reform and incidentally to Senator and Mrs. Norman." - -"How so?" said Merriam. He was rather on his guard against Mr. Philip -Rockwell. - -"It is a long story, perhaps," said that gentleman. "I gathered when we -were introduced that you had heard of me. But I was not sure how much -you have heard. I am at the present time the President of the Reform -League of this city and its guiding and moving spirit." - -"And endowed with the superb modesty so characteristic of reformers," -interjected Alicia. - -The reformer paid no attention to this frivolous parenthesis. - -"Miss Wayward," he continued, "alluded earlier to my -sobriquet--'One-Thing-at-a-Time Rockwell.' The epithet was first -applied to me derisively by opposition newspapers. But it is a true -description. Indeed it was derived from my frequent use of the phrase -in my own speeches. I believe that to be successful, practically -successful, Reform must center its efforts on one thing at a time--not -waste its energies, its munitions, so to speak, by bombarding the whole -entrenched line of evil and privilege at once, but concentrate its fire -on one exposed position after another--take that one -position--accomplish finally one definite thing--and then go on to some -other one definite thing. Do you get me?" - -Merriam signified that he comprehended. - -Father Murray was more enthusiastic. "It is a truly splendid idea," he -volunteered. "Since we have adopted it, under the leadership of Mr. -Rockwell, the Reform League has really begun to do things. _To do -things!_" he repeated, with an almost mysterious emphasis. - -"At the present time," Rockwell resumed, "the one thing which the Reform -League is undertaking to _do_ is to secure decent traction conditions in -this city--adequate service. We have so far succeeded that we have -forced an unfriendly city council to pass the new Traction Ordinance. -You are familiar with the new Ordinance, Mr. Merriam?" - -"Yes," said Merriam. By which we must suppose he meant that he had read -headlines about it in the Chicago papers. - -"Those rascals," continued Rockwell, "never would have passed it--the -men who own them would never have permitted them to pass it, no matter -how unmistakable the demand of the people might be,--if they had not -counted on one thing." - -Merriam perceived that an interrogation was demanded of him and took his -cue. - -"What is that?" he asked. - -"They are counting," said Rockwell impressively, "they are counting on -Mayor Black. They have believed the whole time that he can be depended -on to veto it. And they are right! The scoundrels usually are. The -Mayor, as every one knows, is a mere puppet. He will do as he is told. -Only, the League has made such a stir, the people are so tremendously -aroused, that he is frightened. And so, before acting, before writing -the veto, which he has sense enough to see is likely to mean political -suicide, he is coming here to-night to see Senator Norman, to get his -instructions. That's what it amounts to. Norman holds the State -machine in the hollow of his hand. If Norman tells him to veto, Black -will veto. It may be bad for him with the voters if he does it, but it -would be certain political death for a man like him to cross Norman. -_And Norman will say, 'Veto!'_" - -"I see," said Merriam. - -Which was hardly true; he did not as yet see an inch ahead of his nose -into this thing, but he thought it sounded well. - -"Where do I come in, though?" he added, belying his assumption of -sagacity. - -"That's my very next point," said Rockwell. - -His chair came down on all fours. He squared it to the table, laid his -neglected cigarette aside, put his arms on the cloth, and looked very -straight at Merriam. - -"Are you aware, Mr. Merriam, that you bear a most striking physical -resemblance to Senator Norman?" - -"I have been told so," said Merriam. "My mother often spoke of it. -And--Mrs. Norman mentioned it to me before she was married. I have seen -his pictures, of course, in the papers. I have never seen him in -person." (This was true, for John Merriam had, quite inexcusably, -stayed away from Mollie June's wedding.) - -"He has never seen you, then?" - -"He probably doesn't know of my existence." - -"So much the better," said Rockwell. "The only difficulty then is Mrs. -Norman. And she can be eliminated." - -This facile elimination of Mollie June did not make an irresistible -appeal to Merriam, but he held his tongue. - -Alicia Wayward saw the reformer's mistake. - -"Mr. Rockwell means," she threw in, "that Mrs. Norman can be shielded -from the difficulties of the situation." - -"Exactly," said Rockwell quickly. "Mr. Merriam," he continued, "if you -have never seen the Senator with your own eyes, you can have no -realisation of the closeness of your resemblance to him. Hair, eyes, -nose, mouth, size, carriage, manner, movement--it is truly wonderful. -And it is the same with your voice. Father Murray here says he fairly -jumped when you first spoke to him out in the Cabaret when he went over -to question you." - -"He also says," interrupted Alicia, as if mischievously, "that it is -Providential." - -"Please do not be irreverent, Miss Alicia," said the priest. "It does -surely seem Providential--on this night of all nights. It surely seems -so." - -"Well," said Merriam, a trifle bluntly perhaps, "I don't know what you -mean by that. If my cousin and I look so much alike as you say, no -doubt it's quite remarkable. Still such things happen often enough in -families. What of it?" - -"I have explained," said Rockwell, with an air of much patience, "that -Mayor Black is coming here, to this hotel, to-night, to see Senator -Norman about the Ordinance, and that Norman will order him to veto it. -We thought we had Norman fixed, but he has gone over to the magnates--as -he always does in the end! Black will do as he is bid, and it will be a -death blow. We can never pass it over his veto. It means the total -ruin of five years of work, involving the expenditure of tens of -thousands of dollars. And the cause of Reform in this city will be dead -for years to come. The League will never survive, if we fail at this -last ditch. It will collapse." - -"In short," said Alicia sweetly, "Mr. Rockwell himself will collapse." - -Rockwell took no heed of her. - -"Half an hour ago," he said, "I was sitting yonder in the Cabaret, -dining with Miss Wayward and Father Murray. I was eating turtle soup -and olives"--he laughed theatrically,--"but I was a desperate man. I -had no hope, no interest left in life. Then I looked up and saw you. -At first I mistook you for Senator Norman--even I, who have known the -old hypocrite for a dozen years. I stared at you, wondering whether I -should go over and make one last personal appeal to you--to him. And -then I realised that you could not be he. For I knew positively that he -was dining in his room. I looked closer. I saw that you were really a -younger man--not that massaged, laced old roue. I stared on in my -amazement, till Miss Wayward and Father Murray looked too, and Miss -Wayward said, 'Why, there's Senator Norman now.' 'By God!' said I, -'perhaps it is!' Do you see, Mr. Merriam?" - -"No," said Merriam, "I don't." - -"Ah, but you will, you must," said Rockwell. "Listen!" He looked at his -watch. "It is now twenty minutes past seven. Norman is dining in his -room. There is a man with him, a Mr. Crockett--one of the dozen men who -own Chicago. He is as much interested in the Ordinance as I am--on the -other side. He is giving Norman his instructions, for the Senator is -Crockett's puppet, of course, as much as the Mayor is Norman's. -Crockett will leave promptly at a quarter to eight. Mayor Black is due -at eight." - -"How do you know these things?" interrupted Merriam. - -"It is my business to know things," said Rockwell. "The fact is," he -added, "I planned to burst in on Norman and Black at their conference -and threaten them in the name of the Reform League. It would have done -no good, but I owed that much to the League." - -"And to yourself," said Alicia softly. - -"And to myself, yes!" said Rockwell, infinitesimally pricked at last. -But he hurried on: - -"At ten minutes to eight, Mr. Merriam, I will telephone Norman. I will -pretend to be old Schubert, the Mayor's private secretary. He has a -dry, clipped voice that is easy to imitate. I will say that the Mayor -is sick at his house. I will imply that he is drunk. He often is. I -will say he is not too sick to veto the Ordinance before the Council -meets at nine, but that he insists on seeing Senator Norman before he -does it and asks that Norman come out to his house. I will say that I -am sending a car for him. Norman will curse, but he will go. He is -under orders, too, you see. At five minutes to eight we will send up -word that Mayor Black's car is waiting for Senator Norman. There will -be a car waiting. The driver will be Simpson." - -"I can fix it with the hotel people to get him off," said Alicia in -response to a look from Merriam. "He was a chauffeur once for a -while.--And he will do anything I ask him to," she added. - -"Norman will go down and get into that car. He will be driven, not to -the Mayor's house, of course, but to--a certain flat, where he will be -detained for several hours--very possibly all night." - -"By force?" asked Merriam, rather sternly. - -"Only by force of the affections," said Rockwell suavely. "The flat -belongs, for the time being, to a certain young woman, a manicurist by -profession, who is undoubtedly very pretty and in whom Norman--takes an -interest. I happen to know that he pays the rent of the flat." - -Rockwell paused, but Merriam made no reply. He blushed, subcutaneously -at any rate, for Alicia and Father Murray. The latter indeed affected -inattention to this portion of Mr. Rockwell's discourse. But Alicia -Wayward made no pretence of either misunderstanding or horror. - -In Merriam's mind a slight embarrassment quickly gave place to anger. -That George Norman after three years--how much sooner who could -tell?--should leave Mollie June for a--his mind paused before a word too -ancient and too frank for professorial sensibilities. - -Rockwell quickly resumed: - -"As soon as Norman has gone I will take you to his room. We will put -his famous crimson smoking jacket on you and establish you in his big -armchair with a cigar and some whiskey and soda beside you. When Black -comes he will find Senator Norman--you. All you will have to do is to -be curt and sulky, damn him a bit, and tell him to sign the Ordinance. -He'll never suspect you. As a matter of fact, he doesn't know the -Senator well--never spoke with him privately above three times in his -life. We'll have only side lights on. He won't stay. He'll be -mightily relieved about the Ordinance and in a hurry to get away. Then -you yourself can get away and catch your train for--for----" - -"Riceville," supplied Alicia. - -"That will be a real adventure for you, young man, and you will have -saved the cause of Reform in the city of Chicago!" - -John Merriam smiled, frostily. - -"The reasons, then, Mr. Rockwell, why I should fraudulently impersonate -a Senator of the United States, who happens to be my cousin, and in his -name act in an important matter directly contrary to his own wishes are -for the fun of the adventure and to save your Reform League from a -setback. Is that correct?" - -"Philip," said Alicia quickly, "you and Father Murray go for a walk. I -want to have a little talk with Mr. Merriam alone. Come back in twenty -minutes." - -The implication of her last phrase was distinctly flattering to Merriam -if he had understood it. Alicia Wayward would not have asked for more -than ten minutes with most men. - -Rockwell smiled with lowered eyelids--a smile which it was certainly a -mistake for him to permit himself, for it could not and did not fail to -put Merriam on his guard--against Alicia. - -"Come, Murray," said Rockwell rising, "I should like a breath of real -air, shouldn't you? And when Miss Wayward commands----" He waved his -hand grandly. "Au revoir!" - -And he and the priest hastily departed. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *ALICIA AND THE MOTIVES OF MEN* - - -"Take another cigarette, won't you, Mr. Merriam?" said Alicia, as the -curtain at the door fell behind Rockwell and Father Murray. - -"Thank you," said Merriam. - -He was excited, of course. All the stimulations of his evening, -including more coffee than he was used to and an unaccustomed taste of -wine and mystery and intrigue, could not fail to tell on the blood of -youth. But he felt extraordinarily calm, and he was not in the least -afraid of Alicia. He had not fully made up his mind about the proposed -adventure, but Alicia knew several things about the wantings of men. - -"Let me light it for you," she pursued. - -She struck a match, which somehow she already had out of its box, put -out a white hand and arm, took the cigarette from his fingers, put it to -her own lips and lighted it, and handed it back to him. - -"Thank you," said Merriam again, just a little confused. Hesitatingly, -with an undeniable trace of thrill, he put the cigarette to his own -lips. Poor boy! It was an uneven contest! - -Alicia deftly moved her chair to the corner of the table, bringing it -not very close but much closer to Merriam's. Close enough for him to -catch the faint, unfamiliar perfume. She put out her hand again and -drew one of the yellow roses from their bowl. She rested both arms on -the table and played with the rose, drawing it through her fingers and -up and down one white, rounded forearm. - -"Mr. Merriam," she said, "perhaps you have wondered why I am in this -thing." - -As a matter of fact he had neglected to be curious on that point, but -now he was. - -"Yes," he said. - -"Mr. Rockwell converted me. Oh, I can see you don't like him. You -think he is hard and unscrupulous and self-seeking. Well, he is. All -men are--at least, almost all men are"--she glanced at Merriam. "But he -is a genuine reformer for all that. He is heart and soul for what he -calls the People. He works tremendously for them all his time. And he -is shrewd and fearless." - -Now it is probable that Alicia's little character sketch presented a -very just picture of Philip Rockwell. But it did not appeal to Merriam -as true, much less as likable. He was too young. He still wanted his -heroes all heroic and his villains naught but black and red with almost -visible horns and tail. - -He did not reply. He could not, however, remove his eyes from the -felicitous meanderings of the yellow rose. - -"Well," sighed Alicia, "I was going to tell you how Mr. Rockwell -converted me. You see, my father--but you don't know who my father is, -do you? The newspapers always refer to him us 'the billionaire brewer.' -They like the alliteration, I suppose. He's very busy now converting -all his plants for the manufacture of near-beer." (She laughed as if -that were a good joke.) "His youngest sister, my Aunt Geraldine, was -Senator Norman's first wife. So I know George Norman well. I was quite -a favourite of his when he used to come to our house before poor Aunt -Jerry died. So Philip wanted me to 'use my influence' with Mr. Norman -about his precious Ordinance. I wasn't much interested at first. I -hadn't ridden in a street car, of course, in years." - -"Hadn't you?" said Merriam, quite at a loss. - -"No. When I go out I take either the limousine or the electric. So I -really didn't know much about conditions, except, of course, from the -cartoons about strap-hangers in the newspapers. Philip saw that that -was why I was unsympathetic. So he dared me to go for a street-car ride -with him. Of course I wouldn't take a dare. - -"It was about five o'clock in the afternoon. We took the limousine down -to Wabash and Madison. There Philip made me get out on the street -corner. It was horrid weather--a cold, blowy spring rain. But Philip was -hard as a rock. He told the chauffeur to drive to the corner of Cottage -Grove and Thirty-Ninth Street and wait for us. And _we_ waited for a -car. It was terrible. We stood out in the street under the -Elevated--by one of the posts, you know--for a little protection from -the train. We hadn't any umbrella. The wind tore at my skirts and my -hair. The trains going by overhead nearly burst your ears with noise. -And automobiles and great motor trucks crashed past within a few inches -of us and splashed mud and nearly stifled us with gasoline smells. And -a crowd of other people got around us and knocked into us and walked on -our feet and stuck umbrellas in our eyes. For a long time no car at all -came. Then three or four came together, but they were all jammed full -to the steps, so that we couldn't get on. - -"I was ready to give up. I told Philip so. - -"'Let's go into Mandel's,' I begged, 'and you can call a taxi.' - -"'No you don't,' he said. 'Here, we can get on this one.' - -"Another car had stopped about twenty feet from us. We joined a kind of -football rush for the rear end. I tripped on my skirt when I tried to -climb the steps, but Philip caught me by the arm and dragged me on, as -though I had been a sack of flour. - -"Then for a long time we couldn't get inside but had to stand on the -platform wedged like olives in a bottle. It was so dark and cold and -noisy, and everybody was so wet and crushed and smelly. A man beside me -smelled so strong of tobacco and whiskey and of--not having had a bath -for a long time, that I was nearly ill. And I thought a poor little -shop girl on the other side of me was going to faint. - -"After a long time some people got out at the other end of the car--at -Twelfth Street, Philip says,--and some of us squeezed inside into the -crowded aisle. Inside it was warm--hot, in fact,--but still smellier. -Philip got me a strap, and I hung on to it. I don't care for -strap-hanger jokes any more. It's terribly tiring, and it pulls your -waist all out of shape. - -"'Bet you won't get a seat,' grinned Philip. - -"Of course I was bound then that I would. I looked about. Some of the -men who were seated were reading papers the way they are in the -cartoons. Others just sat and stared in front of them. I didn't blame -them much. They looked tired, too. But I had to get a seat to spite -Philip. The young man in the one before which I was standing, or -hanging, looked rather nice. I made up my mind to get his seat. I had -to look down inside his newspaper and crowd against his legs. At last, -after looking up at me three or four times, he got up with a jerk as if -he had just noticed me and took off his hat, and I smiled at him and at -Philip and sat down. But he kept staring at me so that I wished I had -let him alone. - -"I made the poor little shop girl sit on my lap. Nobody gave her a seat. -I suppose she wouldn't work for it the way I did. She was a pretty -little thing, too. Just a tiny bit like Mollie June Norman. Not so -pretty, of course, but the same type. - -"Then there was nothing to do but wait till we got to Thirty-Ninth -Street. Ages and ages. They ought to have been able to go to the South -Pole and back. - -"When we did get there I put the little girl in my seat--she was going -to Eighty-First Street, poor little thing,--and Philip and I got out and -went home in the limousine, and he told me all about how the Ordinance -would better things, and I promised to help him if I could." - -"And you did?" said Merriam. He was touched--whether by Alicia's own -sufferings in the course of her remarkable exploration or by those of -the little shop girl who looked like Mollie June, does not, perhaps, -matter. He now quite fully liked Alicia. He saw that, in spite of her -extreme decollete and her cigarettes, she had a generous heart. - -"I tried to," replied Alicia. "I saw George Norman, and I did my -best--my very best. But he wouldn't promise anything. He only laughed -and tried to kiss me." - -"Tried to kiss you!" echoed Merriam, naively aghast. - -"Yes," said Alicia, with her eyes demurely on the rose between her -fingers. - -And John Merriam, looking at her, grasped clearly the possibility that a -"boy senator" with whom Alicia had done her very best might try to kiss -her. - -"So that is one reason why I am in it to the death," Alicia went on, -"because George Norman--wouldn't listen to me. And I don't want Philip -to fail." - -She laid one hand quickly over one of Merriam's hands, startling him so -that he nearly drew his away. "I love him," she said, and her eyes -shone effulgently into Merriam's. "He hasn't much money, and he is hard -and--and conceited, but he is courageous. He dares anything. He dared -to take me on that street-car ride. He would dare to burst in on the -Senator and Mayor Black to-night. He dares think up this plan. A woman -loves a Man." - -There is no doubt that Alicia pronounced "man" with a capital letter, -and she looked challengingly at Merriam. - -"We are to be married next month," she added. - -"Oh!" gasped Merriam, his eyes staring in spite of himself at her hand -that lay on his. - -The hand flew away as quickly as it had alighted, but he still felt its -soft coolness on his fingers as she said: - -"Of course all this is why _I_ am in it, not why you should be. You -can't do it just to please me. But you really ought to think of all -those poor people, like the little shop girl--all the tired men and -women--millions of them, Philip says--who have to endure that torture -every night after long days of hard work. It's truly awful, and it -might all be so much better if we only got the Ordinance. You could get -it for them in one little half hour!" - -She looked hopefully at Merriam. He was in fact hesitant. To have the -fun of the thing, to gratify this strange, attractive Alicia, and to -render an important service to the population of a great city--it was -tempting. - -"There's another thing," Alicia hurried on. "You knew Mollie June -Norman. She was one of your students. I think you ought to do it for -her sake." - -"Why so?" Merriam's question came swift and sharp. - -"Because if Senator Norman kills the Ordinance it will be his ruin. It -will cost him Chicago's vote in the next election, and he can't win on -the Down-State vote alone." - -"I thought Rockwell said the League would collapse." - -Possibly Alicia had forgotten this. But she only shrugged her -shoulders. - -"It may or it mayn't. But either way the people are aroused. Philip -swears they will beat Norman if he betrays them now. He is sure they -can and will. And if the 'boy senator' were unseated and had to retire -to private life it would be terrible for Mollie June. He's bad enough -to live with as it is." - -At this point Merriam was visited by a sudden and splendid idea. Since -he did not disclose it to Alicia, I feel in honour bound to conceal it -for the present from the reader. - -Alicia detected its presence in his eyes and judiciously kept silent. - -It took about ten seconds for that idea to grow from nothingness into -full flower. For perhaps five seconds longer Merriam inwardly -contemplated its unique beauty. Then he said: - -"I'll do it!" - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *STAGE-SETTING* - - -Alicia gave him no time for reconsideration or after-thoughts. - -"Good!" she cried, "I was sure you would." - -She was on her feet in an instant, and as he got to his she held out her -hand. Merriam took it--to shake hands on their bargain was his thought. -But Alicia never exactly shook hands. She touched or pressed or -squeezed according to circumstances. On this occasion it was a warm, -clinging squeeze. Her other hand patted Merriam's shoulder. - -"I was sure you would," she repeated. "No Man"--again the capital -letter was unmistakable--"could have resisted--the--the opportunity." - -The curtain at the door was lifted, and Philip Rockwell's voice said: -"May I come in? The twenty minutes are up." - -They were. Just up. Alicia had done her part in exactly the fraction -of an hour she had given herself. No vaudeville act could have been -more precisely timed. - -"Yes. Come in, dear," said Alicia. "Mr. Merriam will do it. We were -just shaking hands on it." - -Rockwell crossed the room in a rush and caught Merriam's hand as Alicia -relinquished it. He pumped vigorously. In his eyes shone the -unmistakable light of that genuine enthusiasm which Alicia had described -to her skeptical auditor. - -"You're the right sort," he cried. "You are doing a great thing, Mr. -Merriam. You will never regret it. But I can't thank you now," he -added, dropping Merriam's hand in mid-air, so to speak. "It's ten -minutes of eight. That money-bag, Crockett, came out of the elevator -just before I came back. I have a car at the Ladies' Entrance." - -"With Simpson?" asked Alicia. - -"Yes. I had to get things ready. The time was so short. I fixed the -head waiter. Simpson seemed ready enough. Has some old grudge against -Norman, I think." - -"Yes," said Alicia, "he has. I'm a little afraid--I wish I could have -seen him. Never mind. It can't be helped. Where's Father Murray?" - -"Watching to buttonhole the Mayor if he should come too soon." - -He looked critically for a moment at Merriam, seemed satisfied, and -crossed to the telephone on the sideboard. - -"I'll ring up the curtain," he said. - -He laughed boyishly in his excitement and new hope. He seemed very -different now from the hard-eyed, middle-aged fellow of an hour ago. -Merriam saw how Alicia might admire him. - -"Give me Room Three-Two-Three," he said into the telephone, his eyes -smiling at them. - -A moment later a harsh, dry old man's voice was saying: - -"Is this Senator Norman?--This is Mr. Schubert, private secretary to -Mayor Black. The Mayor is sick.--I can't help it, sir. He's sick all -right. He's out here at his house.--Yes, he can veto the Ordinance all -right if it's necessary. But he won't do it without seeing you first. -He wants you to come out. He's sent a car for you. It ought to be down -there at the Ladies' Entrance by now.--No, it won't do any good to call -him up. I'm here at his house now. He's in bed. And he won't veto -unless he sees you. Really, sir, if you'll pardon me, you'd better -come.--Thank you, sir!" - -Rockwell clicked the receiver triumphantly into its hook. - -"That's done," he said. "Alicia, dear, go up to the lobby on the -women's side and watch the hallway leading to the Ladies' Entrance. -Norman should pass out that way within five minutes. Follow him far -enough to make sure that Simpson gets him. And then let us know. -Meanwhile I'll coach Mr. Merriam a little." - -"Right," said Alicia. - -She moved to the door. The eyes of both men followed her. When Alicia -moved the eyes of men did follow. And she knew it. At the doorway she -turned and blew a kiss, which might be said to fall with gracious -impartiality between her lover and the younger man. It was a pretty -exit. - -"She's a splendid girl," said Rockwell, his eyes lingering on the -curtain that had cut her off from them. - -"Yes," said Merriam. - -Rockwell, still by the sideboard, reached for the long bottle. - -"Have another glass of this?" - -"I don't mind," said Merriam. The fact is, a bit of stage fright had -come in for him when Alicia went out. - -"There's not much I can tell you," Rockwell said, as he poured out the -yellow fluid. "You'll have to depend mostly on the inspiration of the -moment. You look the part all right. Your voice is all right, too. Act -as grumpy as you like. Damn him about a bit.--You can swear?" he asked -hastily. A sudden horrible doubt of pedagogical capabilities had -crossed his mind. - -Now Merriam was not a profane man, but some of his fraternity brethren -had been. Also he remembered the vituperative exploits of his football -coach between halves when the game was going badly. - -"Swear?" he cried, as harshly as possible. "Of course I can swear, you -damn fool!" - -For three seconds Rockwell was startled. Then he laughed. - -"Fine!" he cried. "You'll do it! All there is to it, really, is to -tell him to sign the Ordinance and to get out. He may ask about -Crockett. If he wants to know why he's changed his mind, tell him it's -none of his damn business. If he refers to a Madame Couteau, you must -look pleased. She's the pretty little manicurist whom Norman will be on -his way to visit. Black knows of that affair, and he knows Norman likes -to talk about it. So he may drag it in with the idea of getting on your -blind side. You can tell him to shut up, of course, but you must act -gratified." - -"Yes," said Merriam in a noncommittal tone. - -But Rockwell did not notice. He was sipping the Benedictine, with his -mind on his problem. - -"That's all I can think of," he said in a moment. "I'll be in the next -room--the bedroom of the suite, you know,--and if you should get into -deep water, I'll burst in, just as I meant to on the real Senator, and -pull you out. We ought to get it over in fifteen minutes at the outside -and get you off. There's just the least chance in the world, of course, -that Senator Norman might get away from Simpson and come back. And -there's Mrs. Norman." - -"Where will she be?" asked Merriam as he took a rather large sip of his -cordial. - -"She's in the lobby now with Miss Norman--the Senator's sister, you -know,--listening to the orchestra." (Merriam vaguely recalled the -elderly woman whom he had seen with Mollie June in the Cabaret.) "The -Senator was going to take them to the theater after he had finished with -Black." - -"What will they do when he doesn't show up?" Merriam inquired; but to -all appearances he was chiefly interested at the moment in the best of -liqueurs. - -"Probably go without him. She's used to George Norman's broken -engagements by now." - -"I see," said Merriam without expression. - -"Alicia and Murray will keep an eye on them, of course," Rockwell added. - -And then both men jumped. It was only the telephone, but conspiracy -makes neurasthenics of us all. - -Rockwell answered it. - -"Yes.--Good.--That's all right.--Oh!--Yes, we'll go at once." - -He turned excitedly to Merriam. - -"It's Alicia. Norman has come down and got into Simpson's car. Mrs. -Norman is still in the lobby. And the Mayor has come in. Murray's got -him, but he won't be able to hold him long. We must go right up to the -room. Come--Senator!" - -Merriam followed out of the private dining-room and down the corridor at -a great pace into a main hallway and to an elevator. - -Several people looked hard at Merriam. One important-looking elderly -man stopped and held out his hand: - -"How are you, Senator?" - -But Rockwell crowded rudely between them. - -"Excuse me, Colonel, but we must catch this car.--Very urgent!" he -called as the door clicked. - -And Merriam had the presence of mind to add, "Look you up later!" - -"Good----" Rockwell began as they stopped at the main floor, but he -paused on the first word with his mouth open. - -A very large man, large every way, in evening clothes, with a fine head -of white hair and an air of conscious distinction, was stepping into the -car. He saw Merriam and Rockwell. Then instantly he appeared not to -have observed them, hesitated, backed gracefully out of the little group -that was entering the elevator, and was gone. - -The car smoothly ascended. - -"Three!" said Rockwell to the elevator man. Then to Merriam he -whispered, "That was the Mayor! He's got away from Murray." - -"Ask for your key," whispered Rockwell, as they stepped out. - -For five protracted steps Merriam's mind struggled frantically after the -room number. He had just grasped it (3-2-3!) when he perceived that his -perturbation had been unnecessary. - -For the floor clerk--a pretty blonde of about thirty--was looking at him -with her sunniest smile. - -"Your key, Senator?" - -"Yes, please," he managed to say. - -As she handed him the key her fingers lightly touched his for a second, -and she said in a low tone, "The violets are lovely." - -He saw that she was wearing a large bunch of those expensively modest -flowers at her waist and understood that his cousin's extra-marital -interests might not be limited to Madame Couteau. - -He lingered just a moment and replied in a tone as low as her own, "They -look lovely where they are now." - -But an appalling difficulty loomed over him even as he murmured. For he -did not know whether Room 323 lay to the right or the left, and if he -should start in the wrong direction---- - -But Rockwell knew and was already moving to the left. Merriam followed. -In his relief he smiled brightly back at the floor clerk. - -At the corner where the hall turned Rockwell stopped, and Merriam, -coming up with him, read "323" on the door before them. Both men looked -up at the transom. It was dark. - -"In!" said Rockwell. - -Merriam inserted the key, turned it, and cautiously opened the door a -couple of inches, becoming, as he did so, thrillingly conscious of the -burglarious quality of their enterprise. - -No light or sound came from within. - -For only three or four seconds Rockwell listened. Then he pushed the -door wide, stepped past Merriam, and felt for the switch. - -"You haven't invited me in, Senator," he said as the room went alight, -"but I'm a forward sort of fellow.--Come inside, and close the door," he -added. - -Merriam pushed the door shut behind him and stared about. The apartment -was probably the most gorgeous he had ever seen. The walls were a soft -cream colour, the woodwork white, the carpet and hangings and lampshades -rose. Most of the furniture was mahogany, some of it upholstered in -rose-coloured tapestry. On a table half way down one side of the room -stood a bowl of red roses. In the wall opposite Merriam, between the -windows, was a fireplace of white marble, containing a gas log, with a -large mirror above the mantel in a frame of white and gold. Before this -fireplace stood a huge upholstered easy chair, with a pink-shaded floor -lamp on one side of it and a small mahogany tabaret on the other. - -While Merriam was endeavouring to appreciate this magnificence, Rockwell -quickly crossed the sitting room and passed through a door at one side. -After a moment he returned, crossed the room again, and disappeared -through a second door. Reemerging, he announced triumphantly, "No one in -the bedrooms!" - -But Merriam's eyes rested, fascinated, on a garment which Rockwell had -brought back with him from the second bedroom--a luxurious smoking -jacket of a most lurid crimson colour, which clashed outrageously with -the rose and pinks of the senatorial sitting room. - -Rockwell grinned at the look on Merriam's face. - -"A historic garment, sir," he declared. "The Boy Senator's crimson -smoking jacket is a household word with most of the six million souls of -this commonwealth of Illinois. Off with your tails, sir, and into it!" - -"Hurry!" he cried, as Merriam hesitated. "The Mayor will be here any -minute." - -"Why didn't he come up in the elevator with us?" Merriam asked while -changing. - -"All because of me, sir," replied Rockwell, in excellent spirits. "The -Mayor abhors me and all my works so sincerely that I feel I have not -lived in vain.--Now, then, sit in that big chair before the fireplace. -Here, light this cigar. I'll start the gas log going and bring in the -tray with the siphon and glasses and rye that I saw in the other -room.--Ah!" - -The telephone had rung, and Merriam had leapt out of his chair. - -"Answer it," said Rockwell. - -Merriam stepped to the telephone, which was on the wall, laid down his -cigar, gripped his nerve hard, and put the receiver to his ear: - -"Hello!" - -A deep voice, boomingly suave, replied: - -"Senator Norman?" - -"Yes." - -"This is Mr. Black. Have you got rid of Rockwell yet?" - -"No, not yet." - -"Well, can't you throw him out? I am due at the Council meeting at -nine, of course. And I don't care to discuss--matters--with you in his -presence, naturally. When shall I come up?" - -Now the Mayor's rather long speech had given Merriam time to think. He -recalled his great idea, and a new inspiration, as to ways and means, -came to him. - -"Eight-thirty," he replied curtly. - -"But, good God!" cried the Mayor, "that gives us so little time. Can't -you----" - -"I said eight-thirty, damn you!" - -And Merriam hung up and turned to face Rockwell at his elbow. - -"But why eight-thirty?" demanded the latter as soon as he understood -that it had been the Mayor. "Man alive, we ought to be gone by then! -What are we to do with the next twenty minutes? You must have lost your -head. Call him again. Call the desk and have him paged and told to -come right up." - -Without a word Merriam turned to the telephone again and asked for the -desk. - -But a moment later he gave Philip Rockwell one of the major surprises of -the latter's life. For what he said was: - -"Please page Mrs. George Norman, with the message that Senator Norman -would like to see her right away in their rooms. Repeat that, -please.--That's right. Thank you!" - -"What in hell!" cried Rockwell, belatedly released by the click of the -receiver from a paralysis of astonishment. - -Merriam picked up his cigar, walked back to the easy chair, and seated -himself comfortably. He was excited now to the point of a quite -theatrical composure. - -"Nothing in hell," he said. "Quite the contrary, in fact. I want to -have a few minutes' conversation with Mrs. Norman. That's all." - -"See here!" said Rockwell. "What funny business is this? I won't -have----" - -"Won't you? All right. Just as you say. If you don't like the way I'm -playing my part, I'll drop it and walk right out of that door. I have a -ticket for the theater to-night. I can still be in time." - -The other man stared and gulped. It was hard for him to realise that -this young cub was master of the situation, and not he, Rockwell. - -"But this is serious!" he cried. "The Ordinance! The Reform League! -The whole city of Chicago! You can't risk these for----" - -He stopped. Then: - -"Do you realise, you young fool, that if we're caught in this room, it -will mean jail for both of us?" - -But Merriam in his present mood was incapable of realising anything of -the sort. In his mind's eye he saw Mollie June stepping into the -elevator and saving in a voice of heavenly sweetness to the happy -elevator man, "Three, please!" - -An outer crust of his consciousness made pert reply to Rockwell: - -"That would be bad for the Reform League, wouldn't it?" and added, "But -you're willing to risk it for the Ordinance?" - -"Yes, I am," began Rockwell, "but----" - -"Would you risk it for Alicia?" Merriam interrupted. - -"What has Alicia got to do with it?" - -But he understood, and knew that argument was useless, and stared in -helpless anger and alarm while the younger man carefully, grandly blew a -beautifully perfect smoke ring into the air. - -It was the youngster who spoke, still theatrically calm: - -"You'd better go into the bedroom. She'll be here in a moment. Shut -the door, please. And keep away from it!" - -It was one of the secrets of Philip Rockwell's success in politics that, -masterful as he was, he knew when to yield. He took a step towards one -of the bedrooms. - -"Make it short," he pleaded. - -"Eight-thirty!" said Merriam. - -A gentle knocking sounded at the door. - -Merriam was on his feet without volition of his own, while Rockwell, -almost as instinctively, slipped into the bedroom. - -Then the younger man recovered himself, sat down, his feet to the gas -log and his back to the door, and called, "Come in!" - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *BOY AND GIRL* - - -The door was opened and closed. John Merriam's straining ears could -catch no definite sound of footsteps or skirts, and he did not dare to -look around. Yet by some sixth sense, it seemed, he was aware of Mollie -June's progress half way across the room and aware that she had stopped, -some feet away from him. - -"What is it--George?" she asked. - -It was only too clear that Mollie June's lord and master was not in the -habit of sending for her. - -"Where is--Miss Norman?" - -Merriam was conscious that Senator Norman probably did not refer to his -sister in that fashion, but he did not know her given name. - -"Aunt Mary? I left her in the lobby. Did you want her too?" - -There was a note of eagerness in the question. - -"No!" - -Silence. Mollie June stood waiting in the center of the room. The -significance of her failure to approach her husband was unmistakable. - -Then he said: "Would you very much mind if you should miss the theater -to-night?" - -"Why--no. Is there anything the matter, George?" - -"Not for me," said Merriam, and he rose and faced her. - -"I was afraid--" She stopped, looked hard. - -"George, you look--oh!" - -She passed her hand across her eyes. It was a stage gesture, but when -stage situations occur in real life the conventional "business" of the -boards is often justified. - -She looked again. - -"Mr. Merriam!" - -John Merriam stepped quickly forward. It occurred to him that she might -faint. He had read many novels. - -But Mollie June did nothing of the sort. - -"Mr. Merriam!" she cried again. "How do you come here? Where is--Mr. -Norman? How did you get in _that_?" - -She pointed to the famous smoking jacket. Her bewilderment was -increasing. She looked nervously about, as if suspecting that Merriam, -for the sake of the crimson garment, had murdered her husband and -concealed his body. - -Merriam had stopped. Almost he might have wished that she had fainted. -It would have been delicious to carry her in his arms and place her in -the Senator's easy chair and bring water and when her eyes opened -wonderingly upon him softly whisper her name. As it was he could only -say formally: - -"Let me take your cloak--Mrs. Norman--won't you? And sit down." - -Mechanically she let him take the opera cloak from her shoulders, and -when he caught hold of the senatorial chair and swung it around and -pushed it towards her she sat tremblingly erect on the edge of it. Her -eyes dwelt upon his face as if fascinated. - -"Isn't it funny you look so _much_ alike? I never realised it--so much. -But--where is _he_? Why----?" - -Merriam caught up a small chair, placed it in front of hers, and sat -down. - -"Listen, Mollie June," he said pleadingly, using unconsciously the name -that ran in his thoughts. - -His plan, as it had taken shape while he talked with Mayor Black on the -telephone, was to tell her in advance of Rockwell's plot and to carry it -through only with her approval or consent--for was not his first loyalty -to her? His original idea, and his real motive, of course, had been -only to see her. And now that he had her there he found he hated to -waste time on explanations. But there was nothing for it. She could -not be at ease or clear in her mind until she understood. So, rapidly -and candidly, he related how at the instance of Mr. Rockwell the Senator -had been decoyed away, while he was there to impersonate him with Mayor -Black, so that the latter should sign instead of vetoing the Traction -Ordinance. Then he waited for he knew not what--amazement, fright, -anger, dissuasion. - -But Mollie June did not seem much interested in traction ordinances. -Presumably Senator Norman had not cared to educate his young wife about -political matters. - -"Why did you send for _me_?" she asked. - -Her question was almost too direct for him. He could not say, to ask -her approval of the plan against her husband. - -"I had to see you," was all he could reply. - -"Why?" - -But she knew the real reason. The turning of her eyes away from him -confessed it. - -It was his chance to say, "Because I love you." An older man might have -said it. But the young are timid and conventional--not bold and -reckless, as is alleged. He remembered that she was another man's wife -and only spoke her name: - -"Mollie June!" - -Perhaps that did as well. In fact it was, in the reticent dialect of -youth, the same thing. - -She looked at him a moment, then quickly away again. - -"You never called me that but once before--to-night," she said. - -At first he found no answer. His mind scarcely sought one. He was -absorbed in merely looking at her. She was indeed girlishly perfect as -she sat there, almost primly upright, in her white frock, her slender -figure framed in the rose-coloured tapestry of the big chair's back and -arms, which gave an effect as of a blush to her cheeks and to the white -shoulders which he had never seen before except across the spaces of the -Peacock Cabaret. To the eyes of middle age she would have been, -perhaps, merely "charming." In his she shone with the divine radiance -of Aphrodite. And his were right, of course. - -He was almost trembling when at length he said: - -"That was on--that last night." - -"Yes," said Aphrodite, who is always chary of speech. - -Suddenly he saw that her averted face was wistful, sad. - -"Are you happy, Mollie June?" he cried. - -Though she turned only partly to him he saw that her eyes were more a -woman's eyes than he had known them and were full of tears. - -"Not--very," she said. - -He sat dumbly on his chair, full of pain for her, yet not altogether -saddened that she should not be entirely happy with another man. - -But now her face was fully towards him, and her eyes had become dry and -looked past him. - -"Oh, Mr. Merriam--you don't know! I can't tell you----" - -He was filled with horror--almost boyishly terrified--by such dim -visions as a man may have of what her lot might be. - -"If I could only help you!" he cried, as earnestly as all the other -separated lovers in the world have said those very words. - -The eyes that looked beyond him came back to his face. The Mollie June -whom he had known had had her girlish poise, and this more tragic Mollie -June did not lose her self-control for long. - -"You _have_ helped me--Mr. Merriam. Oh, I am glad you brought me here! -When I saw you in--the Cabaret, I just ran away from you. I couldn't -even let you speak to me. Afterwards I waited upstairs in the lobby. I -thought--I might see you there. But you didn't come. Then I thought -George had sent for me!" - -She stopped as if that was a climax. - -Merriam leaned forward. He wanted to put his hand over one of hers that -lay on the arm of her chair, but did not dare to. His tongue, however, -was released at last. - -"If ever I can help you in any way, Mollie June, you must let me know. -I would do anything for you. I will always be ready." - -He paused abruptly, though only for a second. A dark thought had crossed -his mind: after all the "Boy Senator" was an old man (from the -standpoint of twenty-eight), and leading a life unhealthy for old men. -He hurried on: - -"I will wait for you always. Perhaps some day----" - -Did she comprehend his meaning? He could not tell, and he did not know -whether to hope she did or did not. But stress of conflicting emotions -made him venturesome. He did put his hand over hers. - -Hers did not move. - -His fingers slipped under hers, ready to raise her hand. - -"That last night in Riceville, Mollie June, I kissed your--glove. -To-night I want to kiss your hand--to make me yours--if you should need -me." - -She did not draw her hand away, but she said: - -"You oughtn't to--now--Mr. Merriam." - -The formal name by which she had continually addressed him pricked. - -"Won't you call me 'John,' Mollie June, just for this quarter of an hour -before the Mayor comes?" - -"Oh, the Mayor!" she cried in alarmed remembrance. - -"Call me 'John,' dear--for fifteen minutes!" - -In his voice and eyes were both entreaty and command, and Mollie June -could not resist them. - -"John!" she whispered. - -And he raised her hand and bent quickly forward, and his lips pressed -her fingers. A bare second. Yet it was in his mind a solemn, a -sacramental kiss. He straightened up triumphant, happy. Youth asks so -little. - -"Now you know you have a right to me!" he cried. "To send for me. To -use me any way, any time!" - -There came a loud knocking at the door. - -Mollie June started half way out of the chair and then sank back. -Merriam, on his feet and part way across the floor, stopped confused. -He perceived that he ought to get Mollie June out of the room. - -The knocking resounded again. And immediately the door was tried and -opened, and a man stepped in. It was the large man with the white hair -who had started to enter the elevator--Mayor Black. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *PASSAGES WITH MAYOR BLACK* - - -Mayor of the great city of Chicago was hurriedly apologetic: - -"I beg your pardon, Senator. You said eight-thirty, you know, and it's -that now. I came up and knocked. Evidently you did not hear. A man I -met in the lobby told me that you had left the hotel in a taxi half an -hour ago. He said he saw you go. So I tried the door and when it opened -stepped in, just to make sure. I am sorry to have intruded." - -Apparently, however, he did not intend to withdraw. - -Mollie June crouched frightened in her chair, but Merriam was rapidly -pulling himself together. - -"It is I who should apologise for keeping you waiting, Mayor Black," he -said. "I will ask Mrs. Norman to excuse us. Will you step into the -next room for a few minutes, Mollie June? We shall not be long." - -He went back to her chair and held out his hand. - -She took it and rose. Her spirit, too, was reasserting itself. She -faced the Mayor with a smile: - -"Good evening, Mr. Black." - -"Good evening, Mrs. Norman." He bowed gallantly. "I am very sorry----" - -"Oh," she cried lightly, one would have said happily, "business is -business, I know." Then to Merriam: "You won't belong?" - -"Only a minute--dear." - -(Perhaps we can hardly blame him for profiting by the license his role -gave him to address her so.) - -He moved to the door opposite to that through which Rockwell had slipped -away fifteen minutes earlier and opened it for her. She passed through -into the darkness of the other room. He felt for the switch and pushed -it. - -As the light went on she turned and smiled at him: - -"Thank you." - -For an instant it seemed to him--perhaps to both of them--that she was -really his wife, who was leaving him for a few minutes only, whom he -would soon rejoin. - -Then he turned to face Mayor Black. - -"I need stay only a minute, Senator," the Mayor was saying. "If I had -known you were engaged with Mrs. Norman, I shouldn't have bothered you. -It wasn't really necessary. I met Mr. Crockett downstairs while I was -waiting. He told me the answer. But since I had the engagement with -you I came up. If I may, I'll write the veto right here, and then I can -go on to the Council meeting." - -As he spoke he drew a thick roll of paper from his overcoat pocket, -unfolded it, opened it at the last sheet, and laid it on a small writing -table. - -"I shan't give any reasons," he added, sitting down and picking up a -pen. "Least said, soonest mended--eh, Senator?" - -"But you're not to veto! You're to sign!" cried Merriam. - -Perhaps if he had more fully grasped the significance of the other's -statement about Mr. Crockett he would have been less abrupt; but that -mighty financier was only a dim name to his mind. - -"What?" said Black, turning in his chair. - -The Mayor's tone gave Merriam some realisation of the seriousness of the -new situation. But he could only stand to his guns. - -"You're to _sign_! I don't care what Crockett said. I don't care a -damn what he said," he corrected himself. "You do what I say, damn -you!" - -"But how is this?" exclaimed the Mayor. "Crockett said you fully agreed -that the best interests----" - -He stopped, looking intently at Merriam. - -In the excitement of the dialogue which had followed Merriam's sending -for Mollie June Rockwell had neglected the precaution he had had in mind -of having only side lights on. Rockwell had planned, also, that Merriam -should sit facing the gas log with his back to the room and look at the -Mayor as little as possible. Now the boy stood where the full glare of -the chandelier shone on his face. Perhaps, too, the emotions of a -youthful love scene, such as he had just passed through, were not the -best preparation in the world for counterfeiting the slightly worn -cheeks and slightly tired eyes of an elderly if well-preserved -politician. - -"Who in hell are you?" gasped the Mayor. - -Merriam was certainly startled. Perhaps he showed it just a little. -But he stood up bravely. - -"You know damn well who I am. And you do as I say or get out of Chicago -politics. I'll attend to Crockett," he added. "That's my affair." - -"Is that so? Well, I guess it's my affair who makes a monkey of me! -I----" - -Again the Mayor stopped abruptly and stared. Then suddenly he rose. - -"I was told the Senator had left the hotel. I think I was correctly -informed. What sort of a trick is this? Who _are_ you?" - -"Damn you----" Merriam began, with realistic sincerity, but with the -vaguest ideas as to what more substantial statement should follow. - -At this moment, however, Rockwell opened his door and stepped into the -room. - -"Aha!" cried the Mayor. No stage villain could have said it better. -"Mr. Rockwell! Of the Reform League, I believe!" He bowed -sardonically. "'One-Thing-at-a-Time Rockwell!' Well, one thing at a -time like this"--he pointed at Merriam--"ought to be enough for a -reformer!" - -"Good evening, Mayor Black," said Rockwell. "I believe you were about to -sign the Ordinance." - -"I was _not_. In spite of the _Senator_ here. I don't get a chance to -defy Senator Norman every day. I rather enjoy it!--And let me tell -you," he added, "if you and your friends in that damned League make any -more trouble for me or Senator Norman or the Ordinance or anything else -after this--if you don't shut up and lie low and keep pretty damn quiet, -we'll show you up, my boy. This would make a pretty little story for the -newspapers--and for the State's Attorney, too! We might call it 'The -Ethics of Reform!' Oh, we have you where we want you now, Mr. Reformer! -As for this young impostor here, we'll have to look him up a bit. A -very promising young gentleman!" - -The Mayor evidently enjoyed the center of the stage. He towered tall -and imposing and righteous, and looked triumphantly from Rockwell to -Merriam and back again. - -"I really think you'd better sign it," said Rockwell. He spoke rather -low. - -"What do you mean?" cried the Mayor. - -Then he thought he saw. - -"Oh, it's strong-arm work next, is it?" - -There was a note of alarm mingled with his irony, and the magnificence -of his pose weakened a little. Rockwell was a determined-looking -fellow, and there was Merriam to help him, and the Mayor was not really -a very brave man. But he went on talking to save his face: - -"You certainly are a jewel of a reformer, Rockwell!" - -Then he saw a point and quickly recovered his full grandeur. - -"I don't quite see how you're going to manage, though. Of course, if it -were a case of _preventing_ me from signing, you might do it--the two of -you! But signing's rather different, isn't it? You can lead a horse to -water---- Of course, you can club me or hold a revolver to my head. -But, you see, I know you wouldn't dare to fire a revolver here in this -room. So just how will you force my fingers to form the letters? Or -perhaps you will try forgery? Is forgery the next act, Mr. Reformer?" - -Rockwell smiled. He was in no hurry to reply. Merriam still stood, as -he had throughout this unforeseen dialogue, a rigid spectator. - -Then, in the moment's silence, very inopportunely, a clock, somewhere -outside, struck the hour--a quarter to nine. - -Rockwell tried to drown it, saying, "I'm hardly so versatile as that." - -But the Mayor had heard and understood. - -"Oh, that's it!" he cried. - -"Yes, that's it!" said Rockwell, and the center of the stage -automatically shifted to him. "If that Ordinance is not returned to the -Council with your veto by nine o'clock to-night, it becomes a law -whether you sign it or not! You're a bit slow, Mr. Mayor, but you've -got it at last!" - -The Mayor did not answer. He shifted slightly on his feet. His hand -shot out. He grabbed the Ordinance from the waiting table and rushed -for the door. - -"Catch him!" shouted Rockwell. "Hold him!" - -Merriam had been a football player. As if released from a spring he -darted after the Mayor. From habit he tackled low. They went down with -something of a crash, knocking over an ash stand as they fell, and the -Mayor gave a groan. If he had ever known how to fall properly, he had -forgotten. Merriam hoped there were no bones broken. - -But Rockwell was wasting no thoughts on commiseration. He was kneeling -over the fallen ruler of the city with his hands clapped over his -mouth--to prevent further groans or other outcry. - -"Get the paper!" he said. - -Merriam scrambled forward and tried to pull the Ordinance from the hand -at the end of the outstretched arm. It was held tight. He was afraid -of tearing it. - -"Twist his arm," said Rockwell. - -A very little twist sufficed. The Mayor gave up. Merriam rose to his -feet with the document. - -"Will you be quiet?" Rockwell demanded in the Mayor's ear, and released -his mouth enough to enable him to answer. - -"Yes," said the Mayor feebly. "Let me up." - -"All right. That's better. If you make any rumpus we'll down you -again, you know, and tie you up and gag you.--Give me the paper," he -added to Merriam, "and help him up, will you?" - -He stood watching while the younger man assisted the Mayor in the -ponderous job of getting on his feet. - -"I hope you aren't hurt, sir," said Merriam. - -The Mayor looked sourly at him. "Thanks!" He felt of his arms and -passed his hands up and down over his ribs. "I guess I'm all -right--except my clothes." - -In fact his white shirt front was crumpled and his broadcloth coat and -trousers were dusty with cigar ash from the fallen stand. Merriam was -in little better condition. They were not dressed for football -practice. Rockwell only was still immaculate. - -"I'll get a brush," said Merriam. No longer a Senator, he felt very -boyish and anxious to be useful. - -As he spoke he turned to the room--the fall had occurred near the door -into the hall--and stopped nonplused. For in her bedroom door stood -Mollie June, her eyes full at once of eagerness and of apprehension. - -How much she had heard I do not pretend to know. Perhaps some of -Merriam's unprofessorial profanity, possibly the Mayor's triumphant -irony, certainly Rockwell's shout, "Catch him!" and the fall. Doubtless -the silence after that thud had been too much for her self-control. - -The Mayor's rueful gaze travelling past Merriam also rested on Mollie -June. A light came into his eyes. He drew himself up. - -"Come in, Mrs. Norman," he said. "Your _husband_"--with a significant -emphasis on the word--"has been giving a demonstration of his athletic -prowess. He is indeed the Boy Senator and a suitable mate for a woman -as young and pretty as yourself." - -He paid no attention to Merriam's angry and threatening glance but -turned to Rockwell. - -"Mr. Rockwell," he said, "I think you'd better give me that Ordinance -after all." - -Rockwell spoke in a low tone to Merriam: - -"Get her out!" - -The Mayor had no objection to that. The older men watched while Merriam -walked rapidly across the room to Mollie June. - -"You'd better go into the other room again, dear," he said. - -But Mollie June's eyes were bright and her colour high and her white -shoulders very straight. - -"No!" she said. - -"You really will oblige us greatly, Mrs. Norman," said the Mayor, "if -you will withdraw for a moment longer." - -"No!" said Mollie June. "This is my room. I have a right to be here. -And I don't like scuffling." - -She cast a disdainful glance at their crumpled shirts and dusty -trousers. And, womanlike, she sought a diversion. - -"What a mess you are in!" she cried. "Mr.--George,--get the whisk broom -from the bedroom there!" - -It was an almost haughty command. And Merriam rejoiced to obey this new -mistress of the situation. He darted into the bedroom. - -The two older men looked at each other. Rockwell was content: time was -passing. When the Mayor started to speak he forestalled him. - -"She's really right," he said. "You can't leave like this. And some -one might come in." - -Merriam was back with the whisk broom. - -"Come under the light," ordered Mollie June, addressing the Mayor. - -That dignitary reluctantly advanced. - -"Turn around. Now, George, brush him." - -Merriam sought diligently to remove the ashes from the Mayor's garments. -It required vigorous work, for the dust was rubbed deeply into the -cloth. Mollie June superintended closely. The Mayor had to turn about -several times and raise an arm and then the other arm. He could not -make much progress in the regaining of his dignity; and he, no less than -Rockwell, was conscious of the fleeing moments. But, glancing again and -again at Mollie June, girlishly imperious and intent, he could not as -yet muster his brutality for what he saw the next move in his game must -be. Rockwell waited serenely in the background, the Ordinance in his -hand. - -At last the Mayor's broadcloth was fairly presentable. Nothing could be -done, of course, with his shirt front. - -"Now, George," said Mollie June, "it's your turn. Give me the broom." - -"No, no!" - -"_Give me the broom!_" She took it from his hand. "Turn around!" - -And with her own hands and in the manner of wifely solicitude she began -to dust his collar and lapels. - -This was not unpleasant for Merriam, but it prompted the Mayor to take -his cue. As he watched his eyes hardened, and in a moment he said: - -"You take good care of your _husband_, don't you, Mrs. Norman?" - -"I try to," said Mollie June rather pertly, dusting away. Evidently she -had not heard enough to know that Merriam had been found out. - -"It must be pleasant," said the Mayor, "to have such a nice _young_ -husband." - -Mollie June stopped her work and looked at him in sudden alarm. - -"What do you mean?" she said. - -Rockwell stepped forward and caught her arm: - -"Let me lead you into the next room, Mrs. Norman. You must let us talk -with the Mayor." - -"No!" she cried, snatching her arm away, and turning eyes of angry -innocence on Mayor Black, "What do you mean?" - -"I mean," he said, with smiling suavity--he was not to be daunted now, -and, short of violence there was no way of stopping him,--"that you are -a young woman. This gentleman--whose name I do not have the honour of -knowing--is also young, and rather handsome. The Senator, of course, is -getting old. I find you two alone in your husband's rooms, your husband -having been tricked away. You can hardly expect me to believe that you -mistook him for your husband. You display no dislike for his person. I -draw my own conclusions. Every one in Chicago will draw the same -conclusions if this interesting situation, quite worthy of Boccaccio, -should become known. That's why I think"--he turned suddenly to -Rockwell--"that you'd better give me the Ordinance after all." - -Mollie June's cheeks were blazing. Merriam's also; he could not look at -her. But Rockwell pulled his watch from his pocket. - -"It is now two minutes past nine," he said. "The Ordinance has become -law. You can have it now, Mr. Mayor." He held out the document. - -The Mayor snatched it. - -"It's not legal!" he cried. "And it won't stand. I can prove that I was -prevented by foul means--by foul means," he repeated, "from exercising -my charter right of veto. I'll take out an injunction, and I'll fight -it to the Supreme Court. And in the process all Chicago--the whole -United States--shall be entertained with the piquant story of these -young people"--he waved a hand towards Merriam and Mollie June,--"aided -and abetted by Mr. Reformer Rockwell. I'll ruin them, and you and your -League, whatever else comes of it. Oh, you're a clever lot, you--you -reformers!" - -He paused out of breath. Then, dramatically, for he was always -self-conscious and inclined to pose: - -"Madame and gentlemen!"--but the effectiveness of his bow was somewhat -marred by the sorry state of his shirt front--"I wish you a very good -evening!" - -But Rockwell was before him with his back to the hall door. - -"You've forgotten your hat, Mayor," he said. - -(In fact, his tall hat still stood on the writing table where he had set -it down before he spread out the Ordinance there to write his veto.) - -"Damn my hat! Let me go!" - -"Presently, presently. I still think you'd better sign the Ordinance." - -"Do you mean to knock me down again?" - -"I'd like nothing better, you--cad!" cried Merriam, who had stood -bursting with outrage a minute longer than he could endure. - -The Mayor almost jumped at the savage sincerity of this threat in his -rear. Rockwell smiled at the startled look on his face, but he spoke -quietly: - -"No violence. I hope to convince you that it would be to your best -interests to sign it. Since it has become a law anyway." - -"Never!" cried the Mayor. "Do you think I would be a traitor to--to--my -party? And I mean to get even with this gang, whatever else I do!" - -But the next instant he jumped indeed. A new voice spoke--a woman's. - -"Mayor Black," it said, "you're a fool!" - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *AUNT MARY* - - -All four of the actors in the little scene turned, and Mollie June -uttered an exclamation: - -"Aunt Mary!" - -In the doorway from which Rockwell had emerged a few minutes earlier -stood the thin, pale, elderly woman whom Merriam had seen with Mollie -June in the Peacock Cabaret. She wore a black evening gown, rather too -heavily overlaid with jet, was tall and very erect, and had streaked -gray hair, a Roman nose, and a firm mouth. The effect as she stood -there, framed in the door, was decidedly striking--sibylline. - -Mollie June ran to her. - -"Oh, Aunt Mary!" she cried. - -Merriam was afraid that Mollie June would burst into tears. Very -possibly she would have liked to do so, but Aunt Mary gave her no -opportunity. - -"Lock the door, Mr. Rockwell," she said, putting an arm about Mollie -June's waist. Her tone and manner were vigorous and dominant. - -"Good evening, Mr. Black," she continued, while Rockwell hastened to -obey her. And to Merriam: "Good evening, Mr.--Wilson. Now I think we -had better all sit down and talk it over." - -"I can't," said the Mayor. "I'm late for the Council meeting already. -I've been shamefully tricked, Miss Norman." - -"I think you have," returned Aunt Mary, releasing Mollie June and -advancing a step or two into the room. "But that's the very reason why -you need to consider your position at once. You're in a mess. So are -we. Perhaps we can help each other out. The Council can wait. 'Phone -them that you've been detained. They can go ahead, I suppose. Really, -Mr. Black, I see a point or two in this business that I think will -interest you." - -Mayor Black met Mary Norman's direct, purposeful gaze. He was impressed -by her air of command and intelligence. He recalled gossip to the -effect that it was really she who ran George Norman's campaigns, that -she even wrote some of his speeches. - -"Very well," he said, "I'll stay ten minutes. Never mind 'phoning." - -"Good," said Aunt Mary. "There are seats for all of us, I believe. -Take that one, Mayor." - -She indicated the large armchair with the rose-coloured tapestry in -which Mollie June had been ensconced half an hour before, and laid her -own hand on the back of the smaller one close by in which Merriam had -sat. - -Then she turned to Mollie June: - -"Do you wish to leave us, dear, or to stay?" - -"I'll stay!" said Mollie June. Her colour was still high, and the -glance she threw in the Mayor's direction was distinctly hostile, but -she had recovered her self-control. We shall be able to forgive young -Merriam a throb of admiration at her spirit. - -"Very well," said Aunt Mary. "Sit over there, then. Mr.--Wilson," she -added, to Merriam, "on that table yonder you will find a humidor. Pass -the cigars, please. And pick up that ash stand and set it here by the -Mayor." - -She and the Mayor and Mollie June sat down. Rockwell remained standing. -Merriam, though somewhat confused at having turned from Norman into -Wilson, hastened to do as he was bid. He picked up the ash stand, -straightening the box of matches into place, and brought it and set it -by the Mayor's chair. Then he got the humidor, opened its heavy lid, -and passed the gold-banded perfectos therein to the Mayor and to -Rockwell. - -"Are you leaving me out, young man?" demanded Aunt Mary, who had watched -him in appraising silence. - -Merriam turned to her with the humidor, hesitating. - -"There don't seem to be any cigarettes," he said. - -"I have some in my pocket." - -But Aunt Mary leaned forward and took from the humidor a package of -"little cigars" that had been slipped in at one end of the box of -perfectos. - -"No cigarettes for me," she said. "I smoke when I'm with men so as to -be one of them. A cigarette leaves me a woman. A cigar, even one of -these little ones, makes a man of me. Give me a match, please." - -With what seemed to himself amazing self-control, Merriam took a match -from the ash stand, struck it, and would have held the light for her. -But Aunt Mary took it from him and, looking all the while amazingly like -his own mother, deliberately and efficiently ignited the "little cigar." - -Then she looked up quizzically at Merriam, blew out the match, handed it -to him, and said, "Sit down, Mr. Wilson." - -Having seated himself, Merriam found Aunt Mary looking intently at the -Mayor, who was smoking and returning her gaze. - -But Rockwell broke in: - -"How much do you know, Miss Norman? And how do you know it?" - -"As to how I know it," said Aunt Mary, "that's my own business for the -present. Not because there need be any secret about it, but because we -haven't time for explanations." She puffed at her little cigar. "As to -how much I know, I believe I understand the whole affair--except how -Mrs. Norman came into it." She looked at Rockwell. - -That gentleman did not reply. Merriam broke the silence: - -"I sent for her." - -He said it very well--not defiantly, but as a plain, necessary statement -of fact. - -Aunt Mary turned in her chair to look at him. - -"Ah!" she said. - -He felt that he was colouring under her gaze. Perhaps that colour -answered her obvious next question as to why he had done so. She did -not ask that question, but turned back to the Mayor: - -"I overheard a little of your conversation from the doorway before I -spoke. Mr. Rockwell was saying he thought that, as things stand now, it -would be best for you to sign the Ordinance. I think so too." - -The Mayor would have interrupted, but she waved her little cigar at him. - -"You can, of course," she continued, "explain that you were tricked. -But how much would that help you with Mr. Crockett or any of his cronies -and allies? They would only think the worse of you and throw you over -the more quickly. A man of your age and standing cannot afford to be -tricked. If he is, he had better conceal the fact. And how about the -people of Chicago, before whom you come up for reelection in the fall? -Will their sympathies be with you or with the persons who tricked you -into giving them the Ordinance they wanted? The American people love a -clever trick. And a trick is clever if it succeeds. As for the -illegality, they won't care a picayune for that. You said you would -fight it in the courts. Well, you might. But it would be a long fight. -You yourself mentioned the Supreme Court. And in the meantime it is a -law and goes into effect at once. Unless, of course, you take out an -injunction. And if you do that, you will make yourself so unpopular -that you can never even be nominated again. Let us suppose it goes into -effect. Then by the time your fight was won, if you won it, the new -conditions would be established, and nobody would dare try to unscramble -the eggs. The Council would simply have to pass it over again, and -you--or your successor, rather, for you would be out by then--would -promptly sign it. No, my friend, there is no road for you in that -direction. You would lose out both ways--with the bosses, who would -have no more use for a man who had allowed himself to be fooled at a -critical juncture, and with the people. Your only chance--unless you -wish to retire quickly and ignominiously to private life--is to cut -loose from the bosses and throw in your lot with the people--sign the -Ordinance, claim the credit, join forces with Rockwell here, defy -Crockett, and come out as the people's champion!" - -The Mayor was not smoking. He was looking hard at Aunt Mary, as one man -looks at another. (Her little cigar had effected that.) There was -aroused interest in his eyes. - -"Wouldn't you rather like to go into politics as your own boss for a -change?" Aunt Mary asked. "Rather than as one miserable little cog in a -big, dirty machine?" - -The Mayor flushed a little and took refuge behind a puff of smoke. - -"Perhaps I would," he said. Then, suddenly: "How about Senator Norman? -Do I defy him too?" - -"Not at all," said Aunt Mary. "He also will go over to the people." - -"Can you answer for him?" - -"I think I can. He will be forced to do so in the same way you are. He -too has been victimised." - -She leaned forward and deposited her small cigar, of which she had -really smoked very little, in the ash tray. Sitting erect, she folded -her hands in her lap and became forthwith a woman again--a sedate, -almost prim, elderly woman. - -"That," she explained simply, "is the source of my interest in this -matter. I like you, Mayor Black, because you have some of the -courtliness of the old school in your manner. I should be sorry to see -you in misfortune. But I care much more, naturally, for my brother, -George Norman, and more still for the name of Norman"--from her tone she -might have referred to the Deity,--"which has been an honourable name in -this country for eight generations, and which George, with his spoils -politics and his dissipations, is compromising. I have long wanted him -to break with his present associates, to live straight, and to become a -real leader, as the Normans were in New York State in the early years of -the last century. I have tried again and again to get him to do so. -Over and over he has promised me he would. But he is weak. He has -never done it. Now he will have to do it!" - -All the members of the little group looked with some admiration, I -fancy, at Aunt Mary, sitting straight, an incarnation of aristocratic, -elderly femininity, in her chair. Where a moment or two before she had -been an unsexed modern, she looked now like an old family portrait. - -Rockwell broke the momentary silence: - -"Miss Norman has presented, so much better than I could have done, the -argument which I tried to suggest to Mr. Black." - -It was probably unfortunate that Rockwell had recalled attention to -himself. The Mayor glanced at him with animosity, and at the silent -Merriam, and over at Mollie June, listening eagerly in the background. -Then at Aunt Mary again. He leaned back, pulling at his cigar, thinking -hard. - -In the silence a slight noise became audible from the bedroom behind -Aunt Mary--a word or two of whispering and then a sound as if some one -tiptoeing had stumbled a little. - -The Mayor jumped to his feet. - -"Who's there?" he cried, pointing. - -For an instant Aunt Mary was out of countenance. But only for an -instant. Then, without rising or turning her head, she called: - -"Come in, Alicia." - -A moment's silence. Then a laugh, of a premeditated sweetness which -Merriam remembered, and Alicia Wayward stood in the doorway. - -The Mayor and Merriam rose. Mollie June, too, jumped up. Only Aunt -Mary remained calmly seated. - -After a second's pause in the effective framing of the door, Alicia -advanced with an air of eager pleasure and held out her hand to the -Mayor. - -"Good evening, Mr. Black." - -The Mayor was a very susceptible male where women like Alicia were -concerned. He took her hand. - -"Good evening, Miss Wayward." But, still holding the hand, he looked -steadily at her and asked, "Who else is in there?" - -"Who else?" repeated Alicia, raising her pretty dark eyebrows. - -"Or were you whispering to yourself?" pursued the Mayor. - -Alicia laughed and drew her hand away. "It's only Father Murray." -Then, raising her voice a little: "You'll have to come in, Father -Murray, to save my reputation. This is really all of us," she added, as -the priest rather sheepishly presented himself. "You can search the -room if you like." - -She smiled at him in the manner which novelists commonly describe as -roguish. - -The Mayor smiled back at her, but he turned to the latest arrival. - -"Were you in this plot, too, Father Murray?" - -"Indeed he was," Alicia answered for him. "He didn't quite approve of -it at first. But we quite easily converted him. So, you see, it can't -be so black as it first seemed to you, Mr. Mayor. And really," she -hurried on, "you ought to do as Miss Norman suggests. It's a splendid -chance for you. To really be a--a Man, you know! And I can help." - -"How can you help?" asked the Mayor. - -"I am quite sure," said Alicia, "that I can get my father to subscribe -quite a lot of money--a hundred thousand dollars, say--to your campaign -fund--yours and Senator Norman's and the Reform League's." - -"Is Mr. Wayward so keen on reform? I should think he had had nearly -enough of it. They've practically put him out of business, these -reformers." - -"He's rather keen on me, you know," said Alicia. "And he likes Mollie -June and Miss Norman and George Norman and----" - -"Father Murray, I suppose," interrupted the Mayor, "and anybody else you -can think of. You mean you can get it out of him." But his -appreciative smile made a compliment of the accusation. - -Alicia only raised her eyebrows again. - -Aunt Mary rose and took the reins of business into her own hands once -more. - -"I should be willing to subscribe something, too, out of my own income," -she said. "And the League can raise plenty of money. You won't lack -for funds. Here's my proposition, Mr. Black. You lie low and keep -still till noon to-morrow. Don't go to the Council meeting at all. -Keep the Ordinance in your own possession. Refuse to see any one. See -what the papers say in the morning. And wait for a message from George -Norman. If by noon to-morrow he telephones you that he will go with -you, will you go over to the League, sign the Ordinance, break with -Crockett and the rest of them, and appeal to the people on your own?" - -The Mayor looked from Aunt Mary to Alicia's appealing and admiring eyes -and back at Aunt Mary. He avoided Rockwell and Merriam and Mollie June. - -"That's fair enough," he said. "I'll do that." Then: "You know where -Norman is, do you?" - -"Yes," said Aunt Mary. It was plain, however, that she did not intend -to communicate the information. - -"And what becomes of this young gentleman?" The Mayor looked at -Merriam. - -"He will disappear where he came from." - -"Well, well," said the Mayor genially, "it has been a very stimulating -evening. Rather like a play. You have certainly put me in a box. But -I'll admit I'm interested in your suggestion, Miss Norman. I'll think -it over carefully. Now I believe I'll call a taxi." - -"Let me," said Rockwell, and he stepped to the telephone. - -The Mayor addressed himself to Merriam: - -"Will you bring me my hat, Mr.--Wilson?" - -Merriam was near the writing table on which the hat stood. He picked it -up and brought it. - -"The resemblance is marvellously close," said the Mayor, studying his -face. "And you did your part very well, young man. But let me advise -you to keep away from the neighbourhood of Senator Norman. You might -get into serious trouble." - -Merriam did not reply or smile but handed him the hat. - -"There's a taxi ready," said Rockwell, turning from the telephone into -which he had been speaking. - -"Thank you," said the Mayor. He looked at Mollie June, who stood some -distance from him: - -"I hope you will forgive me, Mrs. Norman, for my--rudeness earlier this -evening. I am afraid I was too angry then to know what I was saying." - -Like Merriam, Mollie June did not answer or smile. Possibly she was -imitating his demeanour. But she bowed slightly. - -"Really," interjected Alicia, "Mollie June had never seen Mr.--Mr. -Wilson since before she was married until five minutes before you came -in." - -"Quite so. Of course," said the Mayor. He held out his hand to Aunt -Mary. "You are a wonderful woman, Miss Norman." - -"George shall telephone before noon," she replied, shaking hands like a -man. - -"Till then at least you can depend on me." - -He turned to Alicia. - -Alicia kept his hand a long minute. "We have always liked you, Mr. -Black--we women," she said. "In your new role we shall admire you so -much!" - -"I would do much to win your admiration," returned the Mayor, somewhat -guardedly gallant. "Good night, Father Murray. Good night, -Rockwell--you precious reformer! Good night, Mr. Wilson. That's only a -stage name, isn't it? Well, good night, all!" - -The suave politician bowed himself out. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *A SENATOR MISSING* - - -The members of the group that remained looked at one another. Alicia -dropped into a chair. - -"Whew!" she said. - -Father Murray crossed quickly from the doorway, where he had stood -silent ever since his shamefaced entrance, to Aunt Mary's side. - -"Wonderful, Miss Norman!" he cried. - -Aunt Mary smiled at him--her first smile in that scene. "Thank you, -Arthur," she said. - -But she added instantly to Rockwell: - -"See if George is _there_. Telephone. He must be by now. Then you and -Arthur must take a taxi and go after him and bring him back here. The -number is Harrison 3731." - -Rockwell turned back to the telephone. - -Merriam walked over to Mollie June and put his hands on the back of the -chair in which she had been sitting prior to the entrance of Alicia. - -"Hadn't you better sit down?" he said. - -"Yes, if you'll move it up a little." She wanted to be closer to the -rest of the group. - -He pushed the chair forward, and she sat and smiled up at him: - -"Thank you!" - -A woman's eyes are never so appealingly beautiful as in a quick upward -glance. Merriam fell suddenly more deeply in love with her than he had -ever been. And he was for the moment very happy. There was something -between them, something very slight, as tenuous and as innocent as youth -itself, but existent and precious. - -Rockwell turned from the telephone. - -"He's not _there_," he said, "and he's not been there." - -(There was a tacit conspiracy among them, on account of Mollie June, not -to refer more definitely to George's destination.) - -"Not!" exclaimed Aunt Mary. Like the men, she was still standing. She -looked at Alicia. "The driver was instructed to go directly there?" - -"Yes," said Alicia. Then she added in a low tone: - -"The driver was Simpson." - -"Simpson!" Aunt Mary echoed. "That's dangerous. Why didn't you tell me -that before?" - -The reader will have guessed the explanation of Aunt Mary's presence, -and Alicia's and Father Murray's, and I insert it here only to gratify -his sense of acumen: that Alicia and Murray, "keeping an eye on" Mollie -June and Aunt Mary in accordance with Rockwell's plan, in the hotel -lobby, had witnessed the former's unexpected departure in response to -Merriam's summons, and had joined Miss Norman to find out what had -happened; and that Aunt Mary, who was more than a match for both of -them, especially in their alarm over Mollie June's being dragged into -the affair, had obtained first an inkling and presently the whole story -of the plot, and had insisted on coming upstairs, and had entered -through the bedroom. - -Alicia did not reply to Aunt Mary's question. Indeed she hardly had time -to do so, for Aunt Mary followed it quickly with another of a more -practical character: - -"What time is it?" - -Merriam was the most prompt in producing his watch. "Ten o'clock," he -said. - -"And it was barely eight when George left the hotel. How long should it -have taken to get there?" - -"Less than half an hour," said Rockwell. - -"Are you sure he's not there? They might have lied to you." - -"They might. But I didn't think so." - -"Mr. Rockwell and I can go and see," volunteered Father Murray, who -seemed very eager to be helpful. - -While Aunt Mary was considering this suggestion, Merriam had an idea. - -"My voice is very like Senator Norman's?" he asked. - -"Yes, it is," said Aunt Mary. - -"Then let me telephone." - -"Good!" cried Rockwell. "From the bedroom." This was, of course, to -spare Mollie June. - -"Very well," said Aunt Mary. - -The two men stepped into George Norman's bedroom--the one into which -Mollie June had earlier retreated. As they did so, Aunt Mary's eyes -followed Merriam with the appraising look which they had held whenever -she regarded him throughout the evening. - -Rockwell shut the door. - -"Harrison 3731," he said. "Say, 'This is George Norman,' and ask for -'Jennie.'" - -The telephone was on the night table. Merriam sat down on the edge of -the bed and raised the instrument. He realised that he had not the -slightest idea what to expect. Rockwell sat beside him, close enough to -hear what should come through the receiver. - -In a moment Merriam had the connection. A not unmusical voice said: -"Who is it, please?" - -"This is George Norman. Is Jennie there?" - -"Why, Georgie, boy! Don't you know me? You always do. And you ought -to!" A tender little laugh followed, which thrilled Merriam in spite of -himself. - -"I didn't at first," he answered and stopped at a loss. - -Rockwell put his mouth close to Merriam's ear and formed a tunnel from -the one orifice to the other with his hands. "Can I see you to-night, -dearie?" he prompted. - -"Can I see you to-night, dearie?" Merriam obediently repeated. - -"Oh, can you come? Goodie! But"--the unmistakably loving voice was -lowered--"you must be careful, Georgie." - -"Careful?" Merriam queried cautiously. - -"Yes. Some one thinks you're here already." - -"Who?" - -"I don't know. Some man. He wouldn't tell me who he was. He called up -just a minute ago. He was awfully sure you were here. He wouldn't -believe me when I said you weren't. Is it dangerous?" There was a -touching note of anxiety in Jennie's voice. - -"I guess not." - -"Can you come anyway?" eagerly. - -"I'm not sure. Don't wait for me long. I'll come within an hour if I -can get away." - -"You'll telephone again?" - -"Yes--if I can." - -"Georgie, boy!" There followed a little sound of lips moved in a -certain way--unmistakably a kiss. - -John Merriam played up with an effectiveness that surprised himself very -much. - -"Dearie!" he whispered tenderly into the telephone, "good night!"--and -abruptly hung up. - -"You don't need much prompting!" exclaimed Rockwell, rising. "Well, she -didn't lie to me." - -"No," Merriam assented confusedly. Whatever else he had anticipated -from Norman's mistress, the disreputable manicurist, it had not been -that note of sincere affection or that he himself would be for an -instant carried off his feet. As he automatically followed Rockwell, -who made for the sitting room, he was unwillingly conscious of a new -charity for George Norman. - -"He's not there," Rockwell reported. "And he hasn't been." - -"Sure?" Aunt Mary looked at Merriam. - -Our hero nodded. He could not speak. And he dared not look at Mollie -June, of whose bright eyes fixed on his face he was nevertheless acutely -aware. - -In a moment, however, it was of Aunt Mary's gaze that he was sensible. -She seemed to read him through. He thought, ridiculously, that that -momentary telephonic tenderness could not be hid from her. - -But when she spoke her question both relieved and startled him. - -"At what hour in the morning does your train go?" - -"It goes to-night. At 2:00 A.M." - -"If George is back here by then, it does," said Aunt Mary. "If not, you -stay." - -"But I _must_ go to-night," cried Merriam, suddenly awakened to -realities and feeling as though the curtain had descended abruptly on -some mad combination of melodrama and farce. "I must meet my classes in -the morning!" - -Aunt Mary, who must have sat down while the two men were telephoning, -rose and walked up to Merriam. - -"Mr. Merriam," she said, "you more than any one else are responsible for -the present situation--because of your sending for Mrs. Norman. I don't -ask why you did that, but you did it. If you hadn't stepped outside -your part that way, I verily believe, when I look at you, that the trick -could have been played as Mr. Rockwell planned it. The Mayor would not -have seen Crockett downstairs. I don't believe he would have recognised -you. He would have signed the Ordinance and gone away committed and -ignorant of the deception. Now he's only half committed, and he has -recognised you as an impostor. If he doesn't hear from George Norman by -noon to-morrow as I promised, if he turns against us and tells his -story, he can ruin us--all." (She said "all," but she glanced at Mollie -June.) "And now we don't know where George is. As soon as we find him, -you can go. But Mayor Black must get a message from Senator Norman -before noon to-morrow--from the true one or the false one! Do you see? -Until we find George you must stay." - -"Yes, by Jove!" cried Rockwell. "You can't back out now. You can -telegraph to--where is it?" - -"Riceville," said Alicia, who was leaning excitedly forward in her -chair. "Oh, you will!" - -Merriam looked at Alicia. The same combination of appeal and admiration -in her eyes which he had seen her work a few minutes before on the Mayor -did not move him. - -His eyes travelled to the face of Mollie June. She was not leaning -forward, but sat erect on the edge of her chair. There was a flush of -excitement--was it eagerness?--on her cheeks. Unwillingly he compared -her with the warm seductiveness of the voice on the telephone. She was -not like that,--though perhaps she could be. But she was radiantly -bright and pure, a girl, a woman, to be worshipped--and protected from -all evil. He remembered how he had wished to help her. He had said he -would be always ready. Now was his chance. And he desired passionately -to expiate his involuntary infidelity of feeling and tone over the -telephone. He rose superior to the cares, the duties, of a "professor," -even before she spoke. - -"Oh, please--Mr. Merriam," she said. - -Merriam smiled at her, but looked back at Aunt Mary. - -"You think it very necessary?" he asked--not because he had not decided -but to avoid any shadow of compromising Mollie June by seeming to yield -directly to her. - -"I do," said Aunt Mary. - -"Then of course I'll stay," said Merriam. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *CONFESSIONS OF WAITER NO. 73* - - -From a sleep which had been heavy but was becoming restless and -dreamful, Merriam was awakened about seven o'clock the next morning by a -knocking at his door. He leaned over and pulled the little chain of the -night lamp, and as the light glowed asked, "Who is it?" - -"Rockwell," came the answer. - -By a rather athletic bit of stretching Merriam was able to turn the key -in his lock without getting out of bed. "Come in," he called. - -Rockwell entered, closed the door behind him, and stood looking down at -Merriam, who had lain back on his pillow. - -"Slept well?" he asked. - -"Like a football player," laughed Merriam, somehow ashamed of this fact. - -"Feeling fit?" - -"Certainly. Always feel fit." - -For a moment longer Rockwell looked, with perhaps a touch of an older -man's envy of the unconscionable imperturbability of youthful health. -Then he said: - -"Well, I have news." - -Merriam waited. - -"About half an hour ago I called up 'Jennie' again. When I said I was a -friend of Norman's, she admitted he was there. By asking a good many -questions I learned that he turned up about two o'clock this morning and -that he was very drunk. I judge he's having a touch of D.T. 'Jennie' -was evidently rather disgusted at his arriving so late and in that -condition--after your affectionate tone earlier in the evening, you -know." - -Merriam evaded this thrust with a question: - -"Where can he have been in the meantime?" - -"That is a point on which we shall have to seek information from our -friend Simpson. Since telephoning I have seen Miss Norman, and we have -agreed to order breakfast for all of us in Senator Norman's rooms with -Simpson to serve us. He goes on duty again at seven o'clock, and I have -asked that he be sent here as soon as he reports to take a breakfast -order." - -"Why here?" - -"Well, he will be more likely to talk freely to you and me alone than to -you and me and Miss Norman--to say nothing of Mrs. Norman. And, if he -has played some trick on us, he might refuse to go to Senator Norman's -suite, but this room will mean nothing to him. Of course, he may not -show up at all this morning. Ah, there he is, I hope!" - -A vigorous knock had sounded at the door. It proved, however, to be -only a porter with Merriam's suit case and hand bag, for which the -industrious Rockwell had also sent so early that morning to the more -modest hotel at which Merriam had been registered. - -"Now I can dress," said Merriam. "I was afraid I should have to turn -waiter myself, having only evening clothes to put on." - -"Yes, get into your things," said Rockwell, "and let me think some more. -This conspiracy business takes a lot more thinking than mere Reform!" - -Merriam hurried through a bath--a tubful of hot water early in the -morning was so unwonted a luxury to a citizen of Riceville that he could -not bring himself to forego it even on this occasion--and began to dress -carefully, realising with pleasant excitement that he was to have -breakfast with Mollie June. - -He had no more than got into his trousers when another knock came at the -door. - -Rockwell motioned to Merriam to step into the bathroom and himself went -to the door. "Come in," he said and opened it, keeping behind it. - -Sure enough, Simpson stepped into the room with his napkin and order -pad. - -Rockwell promptly closed the door behind him, locked it, and stood with -his back against it. He also pushed the switch for the center -chandelier--for only the dim night lamp had been on. - -In the sudden light Simpson whirled with a startled and most -unprofessional agility to face Rockwell. - -"Good morning, Simpson." - -The waiter fairly moistened his lips before he could answer. - -"Good morning, Mr. Rockwell." - -The man's face was certainly haggard. His eyes even were a trifle -bloodshot. It was clear he had had a strange night. But after a moment -of hostile confrontation the professional impassivity of a waiter--which -is perhaps the ultimate perfection of _sang froid_--descended about him -like a cloak and mask. - -"I was sent to this room--Mr. Wilson's room, I understood--to take a -breakfast order." - -"Right, Simpson!" cried Merriam cheerily, emerging from the bathroom in -his shirt sleeves. - -For a moment the human gleamed again through the eyes of the -functionary. - -"Are you Mr. Wilson?" he asked. His manner was perfect servility, but -there was mockery and malice in the tone. - -"Yes, Simpson," said Merriam. "This morning I am Mr. Wilson. I have -read of an English duke who puts on a new pair of trousers each morning. -But I go him one better. I put on an entire new personality each -morning." - -"Very good, sir," was the ironical, stage-butler reply to this sally. -"The grapefruit is very good this morning. Will you have some?" - -Merriam glanced at Rockwell. - -"Very likely we'll have some," said the latter, "but we want something -else first." - -"Before the grapefruit?" inquired Simpson. - -"Yes, before the grapefruit," said Rockwell, a trifle sharply. "And -what we propose to have before the grapefruit is a bit of talk with you, -Mr. Simpson--about last night. Do you care to sit down?" He pointed to -a chair. - -Simpson was undoubtedly agitated, but he controlled himself excellently. -He even lifted his eyebrows: - -"I hope I know my place, sir." - -He raised his pad and wrote on it. - -"Grapefruit," he said with insolent suavity. "For two? And then what? -We have some excellent ham." - -"Damn your ham!" cried Rockwell. He snatched the man's pad and threw it -on the floor. "Sit down in that chair and drop this damned pose! We're -going to talk to you man to man." - -But Simpson only stooped and picked up his pad. - -"Mr. Rockwell," he said, "I know my place. It is a very humble one. It -is to take orders--for meals, to be served in this hotel. So long as -that is what you want I am yours to command. But"--the American citizen -stood up in him; no European waiter could have said it--"outside of that -I am my own master as much as you are. When you call me 'Mr. Simpson' -and tell me to sit down, I don't have to do it. And I don't have to -talk of my personal affairs unless I choose, any more than any one -else!" - -For an instant he glared at Rockwell as one angry man at another, his -equal. Then he quietly became the waiter again. He lifted his pad and -poised his pencil: - -"Shall we say some ham?" - -Rockwell looked at him a moment longer. Then he laughed: "Ham let it -be!" - -"Yes, sir," said Simpson, deferentially writing. "And some baked -potatoes, perhaps? And coffee?" - -"Yes," said Rockwell, "and the telephone book. Hand me the telephone -book, please." - -Simpson hesitated, but this was clearly within the line of his duties. - -"Yes, sir," he said, and stepped towards the stand on which the book -lay. - -"Wait!" said Rockwell. "Perhaps it isn't necessary. I think you can -tell me the number I want." - -He paused a moment to let this sink in. Then: - -"Miss Alicia Wayward's number. I see I shall have to bring her here. -You see," he explained pleasantly, "I have locked the door. There are -two of us against you." - -He indicated Merriam, who still stood in the bathroom door, following -the progress of the interview with excited interest. - -"We are going to keep you here, not by any authority that we as guests -of this hotel may have over you--as you have very well pointed out, we -have none in such a matter,--but by simple force, till Miss Wayward can -come down. We shall see whether she can make you talk." - -To Merriam's astonishment the waiter, with a sound somewhere between a -sigh and a groan, sank into the chair which he had thus far so -pertinaciously refused to take. For a moment he stared at the floor. -Then he raised his eyes to Rockwell: - -"What do you want to know?" - -"That's better," said Rockwell, leaving the door and preparing to sit -down opposite Simpson. "Will you have a cigar?" - -Simpson shook his head and repeated his question. - -"What do you want?" - -Rockwell dropped into his chair and glancing at Merriam pointed to -another seat. Merriam was too much excited to care to sit down, but he -came forward and leaned on the back of the chair. - -"We want to know about last night, of course," said Rockwell. "At five -minutes to eight Senator Norman got into the taxi which you were -driving. At about two o'clock this morning he tumbled into Madame -Couteau's, delirious with drink. We want the whole story of what -happened between eight and two." - -Simpson sat on the edge of his chair, his hands on his knees. His order -pad was under one hand, and its flexure showed that he was exerting -intense pressure. His napkin dangled loosely half off his arm. He was -looking at the floor again. - -He remained in this position for a number of seconds, the other two men -intently regarding him. Then he straightened up, pushed himself farther -back in his chair, and looked at Rockwell. - -"You shall have it," he said. - -For a moment he stared. Then: - -"I hate Senator Norman--enough to kill him." - -The reader will observe that I use no exclamation points in punctuating -Simpson's sentence. There were none in his delivery of it. But it was -the more startling on that account. - -"Do you know why?" he unexpectedly demanded. - -"No," said Rockwell. - -"Five years ago I was butler to Mr. Wayward. The--the-girl you call -Madame Couteau was the parlour maid there. Her real name is Jennie -Higgins. I was in love with her, and she had promised to marry me. I -had a little money saved up. At that time Senator Norman's first wife -was still alive, who was Mr. Wayward's sister, you know, Miss Wayward's -aunt. Senator Norman came often to the house. He took a fancy to -Jennie and turned her head. The fact that she was in his own -brother-in-law's house made no difference to him. She--went off with -him--on a lake cruise, in his yacht. When they came back he set her up -in that flat and got her work as a manicurist. Ever since he has been -her paramour!" - -The odd, old-fashioned word, which Simpson must have gleaned from some -novel, came out queerly. But it served to express his bitterness as no -ordinary word could have done. - -"That's all. A parlour maid ruined. A butler cheated of his wife. -It's nothing, of course." - -He was looking down again. Neither Rockwell nor Merriam ventured to -speak. When he raised his eyes there was a gleam in them. - -"Last night I had him in my power." (One sensed novels again.) "In my -taxi, not knowing who I was. I was minded to kill him. You had told me -to drive him directly to--to Jennie's. Not much! I drove as fast as I -dared out Michigan Avenue. For a long time he suspected nothing. He -thought he was on his way to the Mayor's, and that was the right -direction. But when I turned into Washington Park he got scared. He -called through the tube to know where in hell I was going. I answered, -'This is Simpson. You can try jumping, if you like--into hell!' I put -the machine up to forty miles an hour. He opened the door once, but I -guess he didn't dare try it. He shut it again. Of course, it was pure -luck I didn't get stopped for speeding. But I got through Washington -Park and across the Midway and out into a lonely place at the south end -of Jackson Park. Then I stopped and got down and opened the door and -ordered him out." - -The man stopped. When he spoke again there was more contempt than -hatred in his voice. - -"The coward. He went down on his knees on the wet road and cried and -begged me not to hurt him. He said he was sorry, and he didn't know I -cared so much, and he would make it all right yet. He would give me a -lot of money and get me up in a business, and I could marry Jennie after -all, and wouldn't I forgive him and go back to town and have a drink? -The worm! I could have spit on him. _Senator_ Norman! - -"He saved his life all right," he added reflectively. "If he had showed -fight I would have strangled him and thrown his body in the Lake." -Simpson shuddered a little. "But you couldn't strangle a crying baby. -I kicked him once or twice. But what more could I do? He kept begging -me not to hurt him but to go back to town and have a drink. That gave -me an idea. I jerked him up and pitched him into the car and drove back -to a saloon. We sat at a table and drank, and he kept offering me money -and saying I should marry Jennie. As if I would take his leavings! He -drank a lot. I only took one or two to steady my nerves--poured out the -rest. But he drank four or five cocktails. Then we went on in the taxi -to another saloon and did it again. And then to another. And about -midnight we ended up at a cheap dance hall on the West Side, and I -turned him loose among the roughnecks and the women there. - -"He was pretty drunk--told everybody who he was and showed his -money,--and in a few minutes a lot of the girls were around him to get -the money away from him. Most of the men they were with didn't -mind--egged them on. Pretty soon he had a dozen couples in the bar with -him and was paying for drinks all around. But one big foreigner, who -was with the prettiest girl in the room, was ugly. When Norman, after -buying a second round of drinks, tried to kiss his girl, he roared out -at him and knocked him down. But Norman only stumbled up again with his -lip bleeding and begged his pardon and handed the girl a fifty-dollar -bill and bought drinks again. And then he got his arm about another -girl and took her out to dance. It was an hour before I found him -again. He was sitting on the stairs, with his collar off, crazy -drunk--seeing things--and all cleaned out as to money. - -"I though then he was about ripe for what I wanted. I carried him -downstairs and put him in the taxi and drove to--Madame Couteau's! -There I carried him up to her flat and propped him against the door and -knocked and then waited part way down the stairs. When the door was -opened he fell in, and I ran downstairs and took my taxi home." - -Evidently Simpson had finished his tale. And it had done him good to -tell it. He was much less agitated than when he began. He looked -steadily rather than angrily at Rockwell. - -"That's the story you wanted," he said. "Of course now you can get me -fired and blacklisted. It's little I'll care." - -Rockwell had let his cigar go out while Simpson talked. Now he lit it -again with a good deal of deliberation. He was evidently thinking. -Even Merriam perceived the point that was uppermost in his mind, namely, -that with Norman still at Jennie's they had need of Simpson's silence -and would be likely to need his help again. They must try to conciliate -him and win his loyal support. - -"I see no reason why I should do anything like that," Rockwell began, -referring to Simpson's defiant suggestion. "I can hardly pronounce your -conduct virtuous. But it was very natural--very excusable. It's lucky -you did no worse!" - -(Merriam had a sudden vision of the horrid predicament they would have -been in if Norman had actually been murdered in Jackson Park at the very -time when he was impersonating him at the hotel.) - -"Still," continued Rockwell, "I think you made a mistake." - -"A mistake!" echoed Simpson. - -"Yes.--Do you still love--Miss Higgins?" - -"What's that to you?" - -"Evidently you do. Why didn't you take his offer--his money, and marry -her? It would have been the sensible thing to do and the kind thing to -her. You might be happy after all. Of course, if you're too stern a -moralist!" - -The man's face worked queerly. "It's not that. But she wouldn't have a -waiter now. And he wouldn't have done it--let her alone." - -"Well, perhaps not, as things stood. But he will now. Have you seen -the morning papers?" - -"The papers? No, sir." - -"If you'll read them you'll find that Senator Norman has broken with all -his old life and turned over a new leaf entirely, which he can't turn -back. You have helped him do it, in fact!" - -"What's the idea?" growled Simpson suspiciously. - -"Listen, Mr. Simpson." - -Rapidly Rockwell sketched the principal events which had taken place at -the hotel while the waiter was driving his enemy about Chicago: -Merriam's impersonation, the Mayor's failure to veto the Ordinance in -time, and the necessity which both the Mayor and Norman were now under -of breaking with the "interests" and coming out as the candidates of the -Reform League. - -"In that role," he concluded, "George Norman will have to lead a -strictly virtuous life. It will be the business of his friends and -backers--my business, for example--to see that he does so. I will -personally undertake to see that you get the money he promised you. All -you will have to do is to make it up with Jennie. You may not be able -or willing to do that right away. But in a few months---- There's no -reason why you shouldn't be set up in a nice little business of your -own--a delicatessen or caterer's, or a taxicab firm, or whatever you -would like--in some other city, with Jennie for your wife. Will you -think it over?" - -Simpson looked at Rockwell and then at Merriam. - -"You certainly are as like as two plates," he said irrelevantly to the -latter. - -"Won't you think it over?" returned Merriam, as persuasively as if he -had been reasoning with some irate patron of the Riceville High School. - -"Yes," said Simpson after a bit, "I'll think it over." - -"In the meantime," said Rockwell, "you must keep still about all this, -of course. And we may need your help again--for taxi driving and so -forth." - -"What if I choose to blow the whole thing?" - -"In that case you will do more than any one else could to help Norman to -the thing he will most want--a reconciliation with Crockett and the rest -of the gang. And he will go on in his old ways--Jennie included." - -Rockwell let Simpson digest that for a moment, and then said: - -"Well, think it over as you have promised. And now we really do want -breakfast." - -Simpson got to his feet. He straightened the napkin on his arm and -mechanically enunciated his servile formula: - -"Yes, sir." - -"And, Simpson!" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"I will talk with you again this afternoon. Till then, at least, keep -your mouth shut and think. Think sensibly." - -"Very good, sir." - -Waiter No. 73 bowed gravely and left the bedroom. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *GRAPEFRUIT AND TELEGRAMS* - - -When the door closed behind Simpson, Rockwell and Merriam naturally -looked at each other. - -"Poor fellow!" said Merriam. - -In spite of himself his mind was visited by a tantalising recollection -of Jennie's voice as it had come to him over the telephone. With no -more evidence than that he was inclined to think that Simpson was right -in saying that she would not have a waiter now. But it was impossible -to speak of this to Rockwell. - -The latter had apparently dismissed the incident and was looking at his -watch. - -"It's nearly eight o'clock," he said. "Put the rest of your things on -and go down to Norman's rooms on the next floor. You're to have -breakfast there with Miss Norman and Mrs. Norman. You'd better go down -the stairs rather than in the elevator; you will be less likely to meet -some one who will take you for the Senator. I am going to hunt up Dr. -Hobart, the house physician here, and take him with me to this Madame -Couteau's, or Jennie's, to see Norman. We must get him on his feet at -once. A hotel physician will be the very man for that." - -"I must shave," said Merriam. - -"Oh, never mind that. Time is precious." - -Merriam thought of the train which he now planned to take. It left at -nine-fifteen and would get him to Riceville a little after noon. He -remembered, too, that he must telegraph to his assistant principal that -he would miss the morning session. And he thought of the coming -breakfast hour with Mollie June. Certainly time was precious to him. -Nevertheless he said decidedly: - -"I'm going to shave all the same." - -Rockwell looked at him with a comprehending smile. "All right, my boy," -said the older man. "Doubtless it's very necessary. Hurry up and try -not to cut yourself. I'll run along with the doctor." - -He moved to the door, stopped with his hand on the knob to say, "I shall -probably drop in at the rooms before you're through breakfast," and was -gone. - -Merriam sighed a certain relief and went into the bathroom to shave. - -A few minutes later, following Rockwell's injunction, he descended to -the floor below by the stairs rather than the elevator. He forgot even -to look at the pretty floor clerk on Floor Three, who last night was -wearing his--Norman's--violets. - -When he knocked at the door labeled 323 it was the voice he most desired -to hear that said, "Come in." - -He opened the door. The rose-and-white room was bright with morning -sunshine, and half way down its length Mollie June, in a blue satin -breakfast coat, with a lacy boudoir cap covering her hair, was standing -before the little table which held the bowl of roses. - -"Good morning, Mr.--John," she said. - -He half perceived that her voice sounded tired and a little sad. But -the daintiness of breakfast coats and boudoir caps was as strange in -Merriam's world as white shoulders were. His eyes drank it in -delightfully. In his pleasure her note of sadness escaped him. He -answered almost gaily: - -"Good morning--Mollie June!" - -His tone probably betrayed his mood, and I dare say Mollie June guessed -the reason for his happiness. But she ignored both mood and reason. She -had turned back to the roses. - -"Come and help me," she said. "These flowers must have fresh water." - -Merriam pushed the door shut behind him and advanced rapidly. I am -almost afraid he might have taken her in his arms. But Mollie June was -already half way across the room with the roses, to lay them on a -newspaper which she had previously spread on the seat of a -straight-backed chair. So all that Merriam got his hands on was the -bowl. - -"Empty it in there," said Mollie June, indicating the bathroom between -the sitting room and Norman's empty bedroom, "and fill it with cold -water." - -Thankful that no reply was immediately demanded, Merriam did as he was -bid. - -When he reentered the sitting room with the fresh water, Mollie June -stooped over the chair, gathered up the roses, and came towards him. - -"Set it back in the same place," she said. - -Merriam did so, and she came up to him--that is to say, to the bowl--and -inserted the stems all together, and with her pink fingers wet from the -cool water deftly arranged the blossoms. Then, drying her finger tips -on a very small handkerchief, she turned and raised her eyes to him -gravely. He saw at last that she was pale--that she had been wakeful. -Perhaps she had been crying. In sudden concern he stood dumb. - -"Did you sleep well?" she asked. - -He mustered his forces to reply. - -"I am afraid I did," he said, ashamed. - -She looked at him forgivingly. - -"Of course you must have been dreadfully tired," she said. "I hardly -slept at all," she added. "I am terribly worried about George. We -didn't even know where he was until--a little while ago." Evidently -Rockwell had already reported some part, at least, of Simpson's -disclosure. - -For a moment they stood silent, tacitly avoiding reference to George -Norman's ascertained whereabouts. - -Then Mollie June raised her eyes again. - -"I'm worried, too, about--what we did last night. We mustn't do--so, -again." - -She met his eyes, very serious. - -"No!" Merriam assented. - -"I can't call you 'Mr. Merriam,' though," she cried. "And I mustn't -call you 'John.' I've decided to call you 'Mr. John'!" - -"Thank you," said Merriam gravely. He was deeply touched by the -unconscious confession. - -Mollie June turned away. "I must tell Aunt Mary you are here." - -Just then there came a knocking at the hall door. - -For an instant the boy and girl stared at each other as though in guilty -alarm. Merriam started to go to the door. But Mollie June had -recovered her wits. - -"No," she said. "You must be careful about being seen. Sit there." -She pointed to the armchair which still faced the gas log between the -windows at the end of the room farthest from the hall. "I'll see who it -is." - -It proved to be no one more dangerous than Simpson, who with an -assistant was prepared to set up a table in the sitting room and serve -the grapefruit. - -And even while Mollie June was bidding him come in, Aunt Mary entered -from the bedroom. With her was Miss Alicia Wayward, apparently much -excited, with her hands full of newspapers. - -Merriam stood up, and Alicia, catching sight of him, dropped on the -floor the paper she held in her right hand and advanced with an air of -eagerness. - -"Oh, Mr.----," she began. Then, as Merriam took her hand, she stopped -short in her sentence, laughed, and said, "Who are you this morning?" - -Merriam, whom Alicia always stimulated to play up, bowed over her hand -as elegantly as he could and replied: - -"Senator Norman, I believe--at your service. Good morning, Miss Norman," -he added, politely, to the older woman. - -Aunt Mary merely nodded, rather grimly, and turned away as if to inspect -Simpson's preparation of the breakfast table. Merriam wondered how much -of Simpson's confession Rockwell had found time to report to her. - -But Alicia gave him little time for speculation. - -"Well, Senator," she rejoined, withdrawing her hand (you were always -conscious when Alicia gave her hand and when she withdrew it), "you and -the Mayor have made quite a noise in the world this morning. See!" - -She displayed the newspaper which she still held in her left hand. It -was one of the leading Chicago dailies, which invariably prints one bold -black headline across the top of the entire front page. The topic may be -a world war or a dog fight, but the headline is always there in the same -size and startling blackness of type. This morning it read: - - *Mayor Black Signs Ordinance* - -And one of the columns below carried the further head: - - _The Mayor and Senator Norman - Reported to Have Broken - With Traction Interests_ - - -"Oh!" exclaimed Mollie June, who had approached and read these captions. -She looked at Merriam with wide-open eyes. I surmise that the newspaper -headlines gave her, as indeed they gave to Merriam himself, the first -actual realisation of the public interest attaching to what they had -really felt to be a little private drama of their own. - -Aunt Mary had joined them. - -"Mr. Black has definitely signed it, you see," she said, with a touch of -triumph in her tone. - -It appeared that the Mayor had not gone to the Council meeting at all, -and the paper did not fail to point out that the Ordinance had become -law without his signature, under the provisions of the City Charter, at -nine o'clock; but late in the evening, shortly before the Council -adjourned, the document had arrived by a messenger, with the Mayor's -signature attached. - -Reporters had immediately set out in relentless pursuit and had routed -the Mayor out of bed at his house between twelve and one o'clock and -obtained a brief interview; the substance of which was that the public -interest of the city demanded the improved conditions which the new law -would insure, and that he was proud to complete with his approval the -public-spirited action of the Councilmen in passing it. - -The rest was mere rumour and speculation, interlarded with many prudent -"it is said's," but it seemed that some if not all of it must have been -inspired by the Mayor. "It was said" that an important representative -of the Traction interests had seen Senator Norman in his rooms at the -Hotel De Soto early in the evening and pleaded with him the cause of the -interested bondholders and stockholders, whose investments would be -imperilled by the changes involved, but that he had stood firm on the -ground of the public welfare. "It was said," too, that later Mayor -Black had had a long conference with the Senator--well, it _had_ been -rather long,--and that they had agreed that the interests of the plain -people of Chicago must at all costs decide the issue. "It was said," -finally, that both Senator Norman and Mayor Black would probably join -forces with the Reform League, whose program they had finally so -powerfully supported, in demanding and obtaining other needed -improvements in municipal conditions. - -From all of which it seemed to be clear that the Mayor, having taken an -hour or so to think over the situation in which he found himself, had -become convinced of the soundness of Aunt Mary's logic and had decided, -without waiting for any further communication from the Norman camp, to -claim the credit for the Ordinance and appeal for popular support -thereon, taking care, however, to involve Senator Norman's name so that -the real Norman should be compelled to join forces with him in his new -departure. - -By the time the column of news and comment and a brief and cautious -editorial on the occurrence had been read out by Alicia and one or two -other papers glanced at, Simpson had set up and laid his table and had -his first course served. He respectfully approached and inquired if -they were ready for breakfast. - -"Certainly!" said Aunt Mary. - -Merriam looked at his watch. It was half past eight. - -"I ought to send my telegram to Riceville first," he said, "to let them -know I shall be there on the noon train." - -"After the grapefruit," said Aunt Mary, with a decided note in her voice -which led Merriam to look at her inquiringly. - -But he desired to exhibit the coolness of a man of the world, to whom -telegrams were customary incidents of daily living and who habitually -ran close to the wind in the matter of trains. So he acquiesced with a -bookish "As you please," and moved with the others to the table. - -Simpson had decorated the center of the board with one of the hotel's -slim glass vases holding a couple of pink carnations. Mollie June -regarded this ornament with disfavour. - -"Let's have the roses instead, Mr. John," she said. - -And Merriam, to the scandal of Simpson, himself removed the carnations -and set the bowl of roses in their place. - -They said little over the grapefruit. Alicia added a few humorous -comments on points in the newspaper article, but Aunt Mary was divided -between an anxious absent-mindedness and a curious questioning scrutiny -of Merriam, and Merriam was distracted between a suppressed worry over -his telegram and approaching train time and the delight of stolen -glances at--Mrs. Senator Norman. As for Mrs. Senator Norman, she devoted -herself chiefly to the fruit. Once or twice, in looking up, she almost -unavoidably intercepted one of Merriam's guilty glances. When this -happened, she met his eyes frankly but with a gravity that was -pathetically, forgivingly rebuking. - -Presently Simpson was removing the fruit rinds and placing finger bowls. -Merriam looked quickly at his watch again and spoke to the waiter: - -"Bring me a telegraph form, please." - -Aunt Mary's absent-mindedness instantly vanished. - -"What message are you going to send?" she asked in a restrained voice. - -"Missed night train. Will arrive at noon." - -"No!" said Aunt Mary. "Mr. Merriam," she pursued quickly, "until George -is brought back here you must stay. After all this in the papers this -morning there will be scores of people to see him to-day. He is known -to be a late riser and never sees any one before ten or they would have -been here before this. In a very few minutes they will begin to come. -We will put off most of them, of course. But there are likely to be -some whom we can't put off. We can't tell where George is, and we can't -say we don't know where he is, and there will be one or two to whom we -can't say we won't tell where he is. We must have you in reserve. You -shall go to bed in George's room, ill with--with--lumbago. Dr. Hobart -will attend you. When absolutely necessary we can show a man into the -room, and you can say a few words. I will tell you what to say in each -case. You can have your head half way under the covers, and can make -your voice weak and husky. You will be safe enough from detection. -Then by this evening at the latest we shall bring George back, and you -can go down to Riceville on the night train. You will only have missed -one day, and you will have saved us from a most serious dilemma." - -There was an appeal in the elderly woman's voice to which Merriam was -not insensible, though the pull of habitual regularity at his school was -strong in him. - -It is to be feared that Alicia spoiled Aunt Mary's effect. Across the -table from Merriam, she was partly hidden from him by the flowers. But -she leaned forward, bringing her face almost beside the roses, and spoke -in her most honeyed tones: - -"Oh, do, Mr. Merriam! How can you resist it?" she added. "If I were a -man and had the chance to be Mollie June's husband even for a day----" - -She stopped with her archest smile. - -Mollie June, with possibly the slightest augmentation of colour, brought -forward a practical argument. - -"Since you will miss the morning anyway, it won't much matter if you -miss the whole day. You haven't but one class in the afternoon, have -you?" - -"Only senior algebra," said Merriam. - -"Miss Eldon can take that." - -"I suppose she could," said Merriam, who was realising that on this -particular day advanced algebra would be to him the most distasteful of -all branches of human learning. - -"Then you'll stay and help us--Mr. John!" - -The reader will perceive that this simple appeal was really much -superior to any which the too sophisticated and calculating Alicia could -contrive. A touch of wistfulness came into Mollie June's face with the -word "help." His high promise of the night before was irresistibly -recalled. And "Mr. John" reminded him of the delightfulness of fresh -water for roses and of the unconscious confession which her compromise -name for him had implied. Alicia discreetly retired behind the roses, -and Aunt Mary waited with lips somewhat grimly pursed. - -Then, while Merriam hesitated, with his eyes on Mollie June's face--we -must suppose that he was weighing her very practical argument,--the -telephone rang. - -Simpson, with telegraph blanks in his hand, answered it, and reported -that Mr. Rockwell wished to speak to Senator Norman. - -"This is--Norman," said Merriam cautiously into the telephone. - -"Ah!" said Rockwell's voice. "Well, you'll be pleased to learn that you -are quieter. You aren't seeing things any more." (I'm not sure of -that, thought Merriam.) "But you, he has a severe cold--fever and a -cough--touch of bronchitis, probably. Hobart says he can't possibly be -moved till to-night. Anyway, I don't see how we could get him into the -hotel till then. You must stay, Merriam." - -"All right," said Merriam, surprising his interlocutor by his ready -acquiescence, "I'll stay." - -"Good! I'll be down at the hotel in half an hour." Rockwell rang off. - -Merriam turned to face the three women. - -When Aunt Mary heard the news about George, she held out her hand to -Simpson for the telegraph forms and wrote. - -In a moment she read: - -"'Ill with a touch of bronchitis. Hope to be back to-morrow. John -Merriam.' Will that do?" - -"I suppose so," he assented. - -His words were almost drowned by a loud knock at the door. - -"Our day has begun," said Aunt Mary, rising with admirable composure. -She handed the telegram to Simpson. "Send it at once. Into the -bedroom, Mr. Merriam. Get into bed as soon as you can. You have -bronchitis, you know,--not lumbago." - -But before Merriam could obey the door was suddenly opened. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *A CHANGE OF MANAGEMENT* - - -The man who thus burst into Senator Norman's sitting room at nine -o'clock in the morning without waiting for an invitation was an -unpleasant but important personage--none other than J. J. Thompson (one -never thought of calling him "Mr."), Norman's private political manager -in all matters that involved handling the people's vote. - -He was a short, stoutish, belligerent type, about forty-five, with thin, -untidy hair, a thin, untidy moustache, and, somewhere between the -moustache and the hair, a pair of small blue eyes, which seemed -incapable of any other expressions than aggressiveness and anger. -Senator Norman--the real Norman--had long found him nearly as -disagreeable as the reader will find him, but so useful in many -political contingencies that he had never been able to bring himself to -dispense with him. - -Having popped explosively into the room, Thompson stopped short at sight -of the three women. For the first instant or two he did not notice -Merriam, who had quietly slipped into the great armchair that faced the -gas log, with his back almost squarely to the room. - -"Good morning, Mr. Thompson," said Aunt Mary. "We were just having -breakfast." - -Alicia and Mollie June still sat at the table, and Simpson stood a -little at one side. Thompson knew who the two girls were, and they knew -who he was, but he had never been presented in Norman's family except to -Miss Norman--a fact which he resented keenly,--so they did not speak. -Alicia sat back in her chair and stared insolently, while Mollie June -leaned forward and rearranged a rose in the bowl. - -"I'm sorry to break in this way," Thompson said--even he was slightly -abashed,--"but I've got to speak to the Senator." - -"Come back a little later, Mr. Thompson," ventured Merriam in a hoarse -whisper. - -The "Mr." was a false note, and its effect was to anger Thompson. - -"No!" he cried, the pugnacious gleam that was never far below the -surface of his little eyes appearing in them. "I've got to speak to you -now! I've got a right to!" - -He advanced. He would have passed the table so as to approach Merriam. -But there was only a narrow space on either side of it, and in one of -those avenues stood Simpson behind Alicia, while Aunt Mary had quietly -moved into the other, standing with her hand on the back of the chair in -which Merriam had been sitting. So Thompson found himself barricaded, -as it were, and stopped short and shouted across the table and over the -head of Mollie June. - -"What in--what's the meaning of all this--this stuff in the papers?" - -Thompson's difficulty in expressing himself under the handicap of the -interdiction against profanity imposed by the presence of the women was -a trifle ludicrous. But his tone and manner were almost as bad as an -oath would have been. - -Alicia's eyebrows rose. She rose herself. - -"Perhaps we had better withdraw," she said. - -If Merriam, who had never seen her in any other than a gracious and -seductive mood, could have turned his head to look, he would have -marvelled at her freezing disdain. Mollie June imitated her in rising -and in a more youthful hauteur. Without waiting for any reply Alicia -turned and walked into the bedroom, and Mollie June followed. - -But feminine disdain, however magnificent, had little effect on -Thompson. He was obviously relieved. He looked at Aunt Mary, plainly -desiring that she should go too. - -"No, I think I'll remain, Mr. Thompson," she said pleasantly. - -Then he looked at Simpson, and the latter cast an inquiring glance at -Aunt Mary. - -"You may stay, please, Simpson," said she. "We shall be finishing our -breakfast presently." - -Before Thompson could digest this snub Alicia reentered from the -bedroom. She carried a white knitted wool scarf, with which she went to -Merriam. - -"Don't you feel chilly, George?" she asked. "You can't be too careful -with that throat." - -She knelt down by his chair, put the scarf over his head, brought it -down past his cheeks, tied it loosely under his chin, and threw the ends -back over his shoulders. - -"Now, lean back. Isn't that better? Mr. Norman has a severe cold," she -said in the general direction of Thompson. "The doctor is afraid of -bronchitis," she added, as she rose and drew the shades. "That light is -getting too bright for your eyes." - -She flashed a glance at Aunt Mary and returned to the bedroom. - -Merriam had been feeling that it was only a matter of minutes before -Thompson--whoever Thompson might be--would somehow force his way to his -side and look down into his face and, probably, perceive the imposture -as Mayor Black had done. But now, with the welcome aid of the scarf, he -had the bravado to turn partly in his chair and say throatily: - -"What do you want?" - -Thompson had remained a gaping spectator of the tying up of Merriam's -head, but this question enabled him to recover his natural -aggressiveness. With one defiant glance at Aunt Mary, he started forward -and pushed his way past Simpson, who could have stopped him only by an -actual physical offensive. - -"What do I want?" he repeated sarcastically, as he stood looking down on -the senatorial head bundled in the scarf. "I want to know what the hell -you've gone and done--you and Black--without letting anybody know you -were going to! What about Crockett? Didn't you promise him at eight -o'clock last night that you would tell Black to veto? And then this!" - -Thompson had drawn a folded newspaper from his coat pocket. He struck -it with his other hand. - -"Is that the way to treat your friends who've stuck by you? What about -the election next week? What about the state machine? What about your -campaign fund? Have you gone nutty? Did you really do it, or is the -Mayor lying? That's what I want to know!" - -"What business is it of yours?" asked the victim of this torrent of -questions as he stared from between the folds of his woolen scarf at the -unlighted gas log. - -Merriam really was asking for information, but the politician could not -know this. It seemed to him the last insult--and repudiation. He fell -back a step dramatically. - -"So that's it!" he cried. "After I've managed two campaigns for you! -I've done your dirty work for ten years! And now, over night, what -business is it of mine? You throw me over! And all your friends. The -men who sent you to the Senate of the United States and kept you there. -And what for? To join that fool Black! And the Reform League, I -suppose. Philip Rockwell and his gang of preachers and short-haired -women and long-haired mollycoddles! You'll appeal to the dear People! -Bah!" - -Thompson had by this time apparently forgotten entirely the presence of -Aunt Mary and Simpson. He snatched a cigar from his waistcoat pocket and -bit the end off it, produced a match from somewhere, and lighted it, -emitting volumes of smoke. He thumped with his newspaper on the arm of -Merriam's chair and in an impressively lowered tone continued: - -"Listen to me. It won't do, Senator. You can't get away with it. Not -you. Reform and the people and pure politics and all that. If you'd -started in on that line twenty years ago,--may be! I don't say it -couldn't be made to pay. But not by you, at this time of day. It's too -late. You've tied up with the other gang. They know you. They know -too much about you. They won't let you do it. It's no use trying. Of -course, if you're tired of your job--if you're hankering to quit--if you -want to go down in a grand smash,--all right! But if you want to stay -in the United States Senate, there's just one way you can do it, and -that's to play the old game in the old way with the old crowd. Savez?" - -All this was a trifle hard on young Merriam. Thompson had told who he -was, so that the boy realised the critical character of the interview. -But there was so much else he needed to know. How had the real Norman -been in the habit of treating this man? How would he probably have -acted in such a situation as they were pretending? The only thing he -could do was to say as little as possible. Now that it was necessary to -make some response, what he said was: - -"We'll see about that." - -Thompson was rather encouraged than otherwise by this remark. He had -not, of course, expected any immediate acquiescence. - -"You'll see all right if you keep on," he retorted with elephantine -irony. "But for God's sake, Senator, try to see things in time. It's -not too late yet. Turn the Mayor down. You aren't committed openly. -He is, but you aren't. Let him go smash alone. He was always a fool! -You can swear to Crockett that you told Black to veto. It don't matter -whether he believes you or not. He'll take you back. This Ordinance -business don't matter. They'll fix that some way. There are bigger -things than that coming, and they know how useful you can be. You can't -keep on with this other." - -"Can't I?" asked Merriam, not unskillfully fishing for further -revelations. - -"Listen to me, Senator. Didn't you accept fifty thousand dollars of -common stock in the United Traction Companies? Are you going to give -that back? Will Crockett _let_ you give it back? Not he! Have you -forgotten how we cornered the vote in Kankakee County when you ran six -years ago? Crockett knows about that. The whole crowd know it. And -what about that nice little honorarium you received for your vote in the -Senate on the last amendment to the Interstate Commerce Act? If you've -forgotten it, the men who put it up haven't! Do you think they'll let -you go off like this? As long as you play the game and keep your good -looks and can make your popular speeches they'll keep you in the Senate, -and the good things will come your way. They'll get you a Cabinet job -if you want it. Just say the word. But if you throw them over, they'll -turn on you. These little things I've been reminding you of will leak -out. Man alive, you're liable to end in the pen!" - -"Perhaps," said Merriam, "but I shouldn't go alone. A man named -Thompson would go with me, eh? And maybe even Mr. Crockett. And others -I might name." (Merriam wished he _could_ name them.) - -"That for your threats!" he finished grandly and snapped his fingers, -thanking heaven for the role of villain he had enacted in a certain -college melodrama, in connection with which he had, by diligent -practice, acquired the not common art of snapping one's fingers -effectively. - -Thompson, who, had unwontedly removed his cigar from his mouth at -Merriam's speech, now backed away from the huddled figure. - -"You think you'd do that!" he said, in a voice in which cynical scorn -contended with something a little like fright. - -"Not unless I am forced to," said Merriam. "But I have chosen a new -course, and I mean to follow it." - -But Thompson, standing solidly in the spot to which he had retreated, as -if he had "dug in" there, restored his cigar to the accustomed corner of -his face and narrowed his little eyes till they were hideously smaller -than usual. - -"It's unfortunate, Senator," he said, with a kind of exaggerated -suavity, "that this reform in your public morals last night was not -accompanied by a corresponding change in your private morals." - -"What do you mean?" asked Merriam quickly, and his voice faltered ever -so little, a fact which the other did not miss. - -"Oh, you were known, you know, at Reiberg's Place. You told everybody -who you were, I understand. You must have been pretty gay. Celebrating -your new virtue, I suppose! But handing fifty-dollar bills to -dance-hall girls isn't quite the line for a Reform League hero, Senator! -And we know where you went afterwards. She's a pretty little thing, but -she's not in the Reform League picture! Suppose we say nothing about -the United Traction stock or the Kankakee County vote or the Interstate -Commerce business or any other little incidents of the past like that, -but just start with this little affair of last night. How will that mix -with pure politics, Senator?" - -It was Thompson's turn to enjoy himself. He could not refrain from -following up this new vein. - -"Your old friends are liberal-minded, Senator. But your new friends, the -great American people, are a little inclined to be narrow in matters of -private morality." - -Thompson's follow-up attack was a mistake. It gave Merriam time to -think and decide upon his course. - -"I was _not_ at Reiberg's last night," he said, recovering his loftiness -and adding coldness thereto. "Nor anywhere else. I spent the night in -this hotel." - -Thompson stared. For a moment it almost seemed that his jaw would fall -and his precious cigar drop out. But he recovered himself with a sneer. - -"You did, did you? In the company of your wife, I suppose! And that -thing about your head is really to keep you from catching cold and not -to keep your head from splitting open with the headache? You're pretty -fresh this morning, considering. I hand it to you there. But"--his -rising anger got the better of his unnatural affectation of suavity, -which he had maintained up to the limit of his endurance--"but that lie -won't go! You don't know what you did last night. You were stewed -right. You told every Tom, Dick, and Harry, and Mary and Jane at the -dance hall that you were Senator Norman. You fool!" - -"After that," said Merriam, playing his part regally, or, let us say, -senatorially, "I can only suggest to you that behind you is a door which -I wish you would make use of as soon as possible." - -Thompson seemed decidedly nonplused at this. The real Norman had always -been amenable to threats and on the whole patient under abuse. - -"Do you mean," he burst out, "that I'm not to be your manager? You turn -me down cold?" - -At this juncture there came a quick, light knock at the door to which -Merriam had just referred so grandly. - -Simpson looked quickly at Aunt Mary and then at Merriam. - -"Let me know who it is," said the latter, realising that he must seem to -be in command. - -When Simpson opened the door it was Rockwell who pushed past him. He -stopped short before Thompson (with his cigar) in hostile confrontation. - -Cautiously Merriam peered around the off side of his high backed chair. - -"Mr. Thompson," he said, "you know Mr. Rockwell, I believe. My new -manager!" - -For a moment Thompson stood. Once his mouth opened, almost certainly to -frame an oath. It is strange evidence of the survival of chivalry in -American life that Aunt Mary's presence restrained that outburst. -Instead, we must suppose, he took the stub of his cigar from his mouth -and dashed it on the carpet. - -"I'm through!" he said. Then to Merriam: "I'll use your door all -right--for the last time--till you send for me!" - -He caught up his hat and walked past Rockwell, within an inch of -brushing against him but not looking at him. - -At the door he turned. - -"You've read your morning papers, I suppose! Have you read _Tidbits_? -Take a look at it!" - -The door slammed behind him. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *HOLDING THE FORT* - - -The reverberation of Thompson's slamming still echoed in the room when -the bedroom door opened and Alicia sailed in, followed more demurely by -Mollie June. - -"Good morning, Philip," said Alicia to her fiance. - -Then she turned to Merriam. - -"Oh, you did splendidly!" she cried. - -"Did I?" said Merriam, awkwardly trying to get the woolen scarf off his -head. - -"Indeed you did. We listened to every word. I through the keyhole. And -Mollie June lay down on the floor and listened under the door. It was -mean of me to take the keyhole, but I'm too old and fat for the other -position." - -Possibly Mollie June's recent prostration accounted for the color in her -cheeks. - -"Help him off with that thing, dear," Alicia added, and herself advanced -to Rockwell and took his hands, offering to be kissed--an offer of which -Rockwell took advantage with some fervour. - -"Yes, I'll help you," said Mollie June, moving somewhat timidly in -Merriam's direction. - -He met her more than half way. - -"Please," he said. "I'm all bound round with a woolen string." - -Mollie June drew the ends of the scarf down off his shoulders and untied -the loose knot under his chin. - -"There!" she said, looking up at him. - -Merriam snatched the thing off his head, ruffling his hair. - -"Thank you!" - -Rockwell's voice reached them across the room. Aunt Mary had been -hurriedly narrating the happenings with Thompson. He now looked -approvingly at Merriam. - -"That's all right," he said, reflectively. "Very good. Yes. Just as -well to defy him at once. Could hardly have been better. Ah, there's -Hobart now, I suppose," for a discreet knock had sounded at the hall -door. - -Rockwell himself admitted the house physician, a bald, youngish man, -with nose glasses over slightly shifty eyes and a quite unprofessional -manner--the manner of a "smart" young business man. - -Merriam and Mollie June joined the others for the introductions. These -formalities over, Dr. Hobart confirmed the report of Norman's condition -which Rockwell had given them over the telephone. He "was getting along -all right"--with a sidelong glance at Mollie June--"except for a touch -of bronchitis." - -Mollie June betrayed an embarrassed uneasiness. Merriam wondered just -how much she knew of her husband's whereabouts--of his escapades in -general. - -"Very well," said Aunt Mary briskly, "you must go right to bed, Mr. -Merriam, before some one else comes. You're ill with bronchitis, of -course. That scarf was a splendid idea, Alicia, but it was a close -shave. We mustn't run any more risks. You will attend him, Dr. -Hobart?" - -"Of course," said the young physician, evidently much amused. "Mr. -Rockwell has told me the story. It's as good as a play. Mr. Merriam--I -mean, Senator,--I order you to bed at once." - -"Very well," said Merriam and turned towards Senator Norman's bedroom. - -"I'll show you where things are," said Rockwell, accompanying him. "I -explored a bit last night." - -In the bedroom with the door closed behind them, Merriam hesitated. - -"Better get your things off at once," said Rockwell, going to the bureau -and stooping to open the bottom drawer. "It's nearly ten o'clock," he -continued, rummaging. "The reporters will be here any minute. I'm -surprised some enterprising chap hasn't arrived already. We'll try to -keep them off, of course. But some of those fellows are mighty clever. -Here we are--pajamas," he added, pulling out the garments for which he -had been searching. - -Then he crossed to a closet, from which in a moment he emerged with a -bath robe and a pair of bedroom slippers. - -"I'll put these by the bed so that if there's any reason for you to get -up you can do so easily. But unless something happens to change our -plans, you're much too sick to get up to-day." - -A knock sounded at the door into the sitting room. Rockwell answered it -and returned grinning. - -"Aunt Mary says that Simpson shall bring you some ham and a cup of -coffee as soon as you're in bed. Why didn't you tell me you have had -nothing to eat but grapefruit?" - -"I had forgotten," said Merriam, realising nevertheless that he was very -hungry. - -Rockwell dropped into a comfortable chair. "It's rather good fun," he -said. "This conspiracy business. I do hope we can pull it through." - -By this time Merriam was inside the senatorial pajamas. He approached -the bed, turned down the covers, and awkwardly climbed in, feeling for -all the world like a little boy who has been sent to bed in the daytime -for being naughty. - -"Now about lights," said Rockwell rising. The window shades had not -been raised; they were using the chandelier. "Not these center lights, -nor the night lamp. Both are too bright on your face in case---- Let's -try this side light." - -He turned on a light on the wall on the other side of Merriam's bed, -switched off the ceiling lights, and surveyed the effect. - -"That's good," he said. "If we have to bring any one in, you can lie -looking this way and still your face will be in shadow. Lie well down -in with the covers up to your chin. Now I'll bring you some breakfast." - -Merriam, left alone for a minute, wished he had been permitted to finish -his breakfast in the sitting room before being sent to bed. He had -counted on that breakfast, and the first course had been fully as -delightful as he had pictured it. - -Rockwell soon returned, carrying a tray on which was a plate of really -fine ham, with rolls and butter and a cup of coffee. - -"I guess I'm not too sick to sit up to eat, so long as only you're -here," said Merriam, suiting his posture to the word and falling to with -appetite. - -Rockwell drew up a chair and for several minutes sat smoking in silence. -Then he said: - -"Did you catch Thompson's parting shot about _Tidbits_?" - -"Yes," Merriam replied, without interrupting operations. "What did he -mean?" - -Rockwell drew a clipping from his pocket. "Listen," he said, and read -the following: - - - _The Senator's Night Off_ - - There was a dance last night at Reiberg's Place on the West - Side. Most of our readers do not know Reiberg's. It comprises - a dancing floor over a saloon, with a bar attached for the - convenience of patrons who may not be willing--or, as the - evening advances, able--to go downstairs to the saloon; also - certain small rooms where one may drink or otherwise enjoy - oneself quite privately. Its patrons, male and female, are - chiefly employees in the neighbouring factories. - - But last night Reiberg's was honoured, we are credibly informed, - by a guest from quite a different sphere--no less than a Senator - of the United States. We are not able at present to give his - name with certainty, and of course we are not willing to give - names in such a case until we have verified our information with - scrupulous care. But he certainly announced himself as Senator - ----, and he looked the part, and distributed money, presumably - from the salary paid to him out of public funds, with lavish - abandon. - - Having tried to kiss one of the prettier girls and been knocked - down by her escort--who evidently knew naught of "senatorial - courtesies,"--he emphasised the sincerity of his tipsy apologies - by handing the lucky insulted one a fifty-dollar bill. - - Later, it is said, he attached himself to another young woman, - unaccompanied, it would seem, by any pugnacious swain, with whom - he spent several hours, partly on the dancing floor and partly - elsewhere. - - Finally, with we fear little of his money left about him, he was - charitably carried off by the chauffeur of his waiting taxi. - - Well, well, after the arduous strain of legislative labours, one - doubtless feels the need of a little relaxation. We hope the - Senator enjoyed himself. - - -Rockwell folded up his clipping. "A tolerably close paraphrase of -Simpson's story," he remarked. "They have the facts pretty straight." - -"What is this _Tidbits_?" asked Merriam, sitting on his pillow with the -tray in his lap. He had stopped eating. - -"Oh, a dirty little sheet of scandal. Twice a week. But it's pretty -widely read. And they know his name, of course. In fact any one can -guess it, because Senator Norman is known to be in the city, and there -is no other United States Senator stopping here now, so far as any one -knows. It will be a bit nasty if they push this sort of thing. They'll -put it in the regular newspapers next--a straight news item with his -name in it." - -"That article doesn't say where he went afterwards," said Merriam. "But -Thompson knew. - -"They're keeping that in reserve. Listen!" - -Male voices were audible from the sitting room. - -"The reporters!" exclaimed Rockwell. "I'll take that tray. Lie down -and cover up. I must go and help Aunt Mary hold the fort." - -Merriam finished his coffee in a gulp, and Rockwell set the tray on the -seat of a chair and hastily entered the sitting room. - -There followed a long period--more than an hour, in fact--during which -Merriam lay in bed and listened to varied voices from the other room, -and speculated as to what was going on, and wondered what he should do -if the door should open and some irresistibly aggressive reporter or -irresistibly important political friend of Norman's be ushered in. - -But Rockwell and Aunt Mary, with the occasional support of Dr. Hobart, -successfully withstood the army of reporters and a few minor politicians -who called, and at length the loud masculine voices from the other room -ceased, and Merriam lay still, somewhat fatigued by his prolonged strain -of apprehension, and waited. - -Presently the door opened, and Aunt Mary and Rockwell entered. Merriam -had closed his eyes, but Rockwell speedily opened them. - -"Oh, you can wake up," he said. "It's all right. The coast is clear." - -Merriam rolled over so as to lie on his back. "Well, what next?" he -said. - -Aunt Mary and Rockwell looked at each, other. Rockwell spoke: - -"Miss Norman and I are going out. We shall drop in at the Mayor's for a -few minutes and then go on to a Reform League luncheon at the Urban -Club. I am due to act as toastmaster or chairman for the speeches -afterwards, and it will be just as well to have Miss Norman present. -She will symbolise the prospective new alliance. We are going to leave -you under the care of Alicia and Mrs. Norman. No one else is likely to -come for several hours now. We shall be back at about half past two or -three. Meanwhile luncheon. You didn't get a very big breakfast after -all. Simpson shall serve it here by your bed, and Alicia and Mollie -June can eat with you." - -This disposition suited Merriam excellently well, but he made no -comment. He tried to decide whether Aunt Mary was really eyeing him -sharply or whether he only imagined it. - -In any case she almost immediately added a rather formal "Good morning," -and returned to the sitting room. - -Rockwell lingered a moment. - -"We're going to try to bring Norman back here this evening, you know. -If it's at all possible. If it shouldn't be--if he's too sick or -something, I suppose you could stay over another day still?" - -Merriam thought with a panic of his school. - -"Not unless it's absolutely necessary," he replied with a good deal of -emphasis. - -"It probably won't be," said Rockwell reassuringly. "We're quite as -anxious to get rid of you, you know," he added smiling, "as you can be -to get away from us. A double's a horribly dangerous thing to have -around. Well, so long." - -In less than five minutes after Rockwell's departure there came a knock -at that door upon which Merriam's attention was concentrated--a -distinctly feminine knock. - -Merriam disposed himself as discreetly as possible under the bedclothes -and answered it. - -Alicia opened the door and peeped. "May I come in?" She opened it -wider and came through. "I'm the chaperon, you know." - -"Are you?" asked Merriam smiling. - -Alicia was pleased by his smile and said so. - -"I always like it when people laugh at the idea of my being a chaperon." - -"Why?" said Merriam. - -"Oh, so long as it seems funny for a woman to be a chaperon she's -young." - -"It seems funny for you," said Merriam. - -"That's very nicely said," returned Alicia. "Come in, Mollie June." - -As Mollie June did not appear, Alicia looked into the sitting room. - -"Why," she said, "she must have gone into her bedroom. I do believe -she's doing her hair over." And Alicia raised her eyebrows. - -In spite of hope deferred Merriam was made happy. He recalled the -supreme necessity of shaving earlier that morning. - -Alicia dropped into the chair by the bed in which Rockwell had sat and -pretended to scan the invalid's face solicitously. - -"I should say, Senator," she remarked, "that you do not _look_ like a -very sick man. Your condition must be improving. We can hope you will -be able to take a little nourishment." - -"You can hope that all right," grinned the invalid. - -"I've ordered----" Alicia, making talk, plunged into the details of a -quite elaborate refection. - -By the time she had finished and had replied to one or two humorous -comments from Merriam, whose spirits were certainly rising, Simpson -presented himself with the substantial fulfillment of her prospectus. -And not until then did Mollie June join them. Her coiffure, though -simple, was certainly faultless and so far as a masculine eye could -judge newly arranged. - -Alicia caught Merriam's glance and read his thoughts and smiled. - -"What is it?" asked Mollie June suspiciously. - -"What is what?" said Merriam, lamely. - -"The Senator has been very humorous over the meal I have ordered," -explained Alicia more deftly. - -"Don't call him the Senator!" cried Mollie June. "His name is"--her eyes -met Merriam's for an instant--"Mr. John." - -"I see," said Alicia. In the dim light Merriam was not sure whether she -raised her eyebrows again or not, but he was afraid she did. - -Simpson, intent only on the proper illumination of his carefully laid -cloth, but unwittingly conspiring with the elder gods (Fate and Destiny -and the like), had turned on the night lamp and set it on the corner of -the table next to Mollie June, and its radiance fell full on her -slender, erect figure, now arrayed in--Merriam had not the slightest -idea what kind of fabric it was, but it was creamy white, and at her -waist was one of the red roses he had helped to freshen. The circle of -bright light extended up to her white throat. Occasionally when she -leaned forward her face dipped into it, but for the most part showed -only dimly in the fainter glow that came through the shade of the lamp. -He could see her eyes, however, and not infrequently they rested on him. -His, it is to be feared, were on her most of the time. - -When at length the luncheon was finished and Merriam had expressed -himself as disinclined for cigarettes and Simpson had removed his dishes -and his table and finally himself, Alicia, who was really a most -good-natured person--a pearl among chaperons,--yawned and announced that -she had a novel which she desired to finish, and that, if they didn't -mind, she proposed to retire to the sitting room to prosecute that -literary occupation. - -"You can amuse him for a while, Mrs. Norman," she said, with a humorous -smile; Merriam did not venture to question what more subtle thoughts -that smile might veil. "He's your guest more than mine, seeing it's -your husband he's impersonating. If he gets too boring, you can come for -me and I'll spell you." - -Neither Mollie June nor Merriam replied, but Alicia, still with that -amused smile, rose and calmly departed. She left the door open, of -course, between the two rooms. - -Upon the two young people, thus abruptly left alone together, there -descended an embarrassed silence. For a minute or so they heard Alicia -moving about in the sitting room and then the small sounds which one -makes in adjusting one's self comfortably in an armchair with a -footstool and a book, ending in a pleasurable sigh. - -Merriam was overwhelmed by the necessity of finding talk. He could not -lie there in bed and stare at Mollie June, however beatitudinous it -might have been to do so. Several seconds of prodigious intellectual -labour brought forth this polite question: - -"Do you hear often from the girls in Riceville?" - -"Not very often," said Mollie June. - -We can hardly describe this reply as helpful. - -Again he struggled mightily, with the banal kind of result that usually -follows such paroxysms conversational topic-hunting: - -"You must find your life here and in Washington wonderful." - -"It seemed so, at first," said Mollie June. - -"But it didn't last?" - -Merriam was conscious of danger on this tack but he must have a moment's -rest before he could wrestle with the void again. - -"No," said Mollie June. - -Merriam waited, not shirking his responsibilities but conscious that she -meant to continue. She was always deliberate of speech--a fact which -gave a piquant significance to her simplest words. - -"You see," she said, "I didn't really care very much for George. I -thought I did at first, but I didn't. Papa really made me marry him. -And you know he is untrue to me." - -Merriam could have gasped. He felt himself falling through the thin ice -of mere "conversation," on which he had tried so hard to skate, into the -depths of real talk. But it was good to be in the depths. And after -his first breathlessness he was filled with love and pity. How much the -brief, girlish sentences portrayed of disillusionment and tragedy! - -"You know about that then?" he asked gently. - -"Of course," said Mollie June, almost scornfully. "Before company Aunt -Mary and Alicia and Mr. Rockwell keep up the pretence that I can know -nothing about such things. I keep it up too! But Aunt Mary knows all -about them. George never can conceal anything from her. And I make her -tell me everything. Everything!" - -Merriam, I suspect, hardly sensed the amount of intellect and character -which Mollie June's last statement betrayed--I use the word advisedly, -for, of course, intellect and character detract from a young girl's -charm, and if she desires to be pretty and alluring she should, and -usually does, carefully conceal whatever of such attributes she may be -handicapped with. But to "make" Aunt Mary disclose things she wished -not to disclose was no small achievement. - -"You know about this Jennie Higgins?" Merriam asked. - -"Yes. I've seen her and talked with her." - -"How?" was Merriam's startled question. - -"She's a manicurist, you know. She's employed at ----" Mollie June -mentioned a well-known establishment on Michigan Avenue, the name of -which for obvious reasons I suppress. "When I found that out, I went -there to have my nails done. I just asked for--Madame Couteau, and -waited till she was free. She didn't know me, of course. She's -pretty," said Mollie June, with judicial coldness. - -After a moment she added, "And sweet and--warm." - -"But how any man can leave you----" cried Merriam, treading recklessly -on several kinds of dynamite. - -"You haven't seen her," said Mollie June. - -Merriam was silenced. It was true he had not seen her. And he -remembered with confusion that he had talked with her over a wire and, -as Rockwell put it, had not "needed much prompting." - -He stole a glance at Mollie June. The purity of her white-clad figure, -its brave erectness, and the impassive sadness so out of place on her -young face caught at his heart. - -"How can you stand it?" he cried, and would have put out his hand to her -had he not remembered that he was in bed and that his arm was clad only -in the sleeve of a suit of pajamas. - -Mollie June looked at him. - -"I don't know," she said. "What else can I do?" - -Merriam lay still, now openly staring at her. Of all intolerable things -of which he had ever heard it seemed to him the worst that Mollie -June--"the prettiest girl,"--with all her loveliness and sweetness and -courage and youthful joy in life, should be so slighted and wronged and -saddened and degraded. It was like seeing a rose trampled under foot. -(Merriam's mental simile was not very original perhaps, but to him it -was intensely poignant.) - -For a moment she met his gaze, then looked away. In the subdued light -Merriam could not be sure, but he thought there was a new brightness of -tears in her eyes, released perhaps by his very apparent though -inexpressive sympathy. - -Presently the thought which had inevitably come to him forced itself -almost against his will to expression: - -"You could divorce him." - -"I've thought of that." (Somehow this shocked Merriam.) "But it would -be too horrible. Have you read the divorce trials in the papers? With -a Senator they would make the most of it. And Aunt Mary won't let me do -that. It would ruin him politically, she says." - -"Well, what if it did? How about you?" - -"Oh, she loves him, you know. She thinks he can be brought to change -his ways. She believes in him still." - -"Do you?" - -"No," said Mollie June, with the clear-eyed cruel simplicity of youth. - -"He may die," was the thought in Merriam's mind, but this could not be -said. - -Full of pity, he gazed at her again, and something in the profile of her -averted face overcame him. He started up on his elbow--all this time he -had lain with his head on his arm on the pillow. - -"Mollie June!" he cried, his voice softly raised. - -She did not look at him. - -"Dear Mollie June! You must know I love you. I loved you three years -ago in Riceville. There's nothing wrong about that. When you're in -such trouble I must tell you. It can't do you any good. There's nothing -we can do. But--I do love you!" - -She turned her eyes upon him. - -"Why didn't you tell me that--in Riceville?" - -"Oh!" he cried. - -Mollie June rose and came to the bedside. - -"I know," she said with womanly gentleness. "You couldn't, of course. -Because you were so poor. I ought to have waited--John!" - -For a moment her hand hovered above his head as if she would have -stroked his ruffled hair. But it descended to her side again. - -"We mustn't talk like this. I must go. I'll tell Alicia we -are--bored!" - -There were tears not only in her eyes but on her cheeks now. -Undisguisedly she wiped them away and carefully dried her eyes with a -small handkerchief. - -"I shall see you at dinner," she said with a brave smile, and, turning, -walked quickly out of the room. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *COUNCIL OF WAR* - - -It was some time before Alicia, with something more, if possible, than -her usual aplomb, covering, let us hope, a guilty conscience, entered -the bedroom, presumably to "spell" Mollie June in amusing the supposed -invalid. - -Alicia made some remark which hardly penetrated the invalid's -consciousness, but scarcely had she sat down in Mollie June's chair -before a quick knock sounded at the hall door of the sitting room, -almost immediately followed by the sound of the opening of that door, -and Alicia sprang up again and hurried away, to be before Mollie June in -receiving the newcomers. It began to irritate Merriam to perceive how -they all treated her as a little girl, when as he now thrillingly -realised she was very much a woman in spite of the youthfulness of her -face and figure. - -The arrivals in the other room proved to be Rockwell and Aunt Mary -returned. Recognising their voices, Merriam glanced at his watch under -his pillow and was amazed to find that it was nearly four o'clock. - -Rockwell appeared in the doorway. - -"Come into this other room," he said. "We must hold a council of war." - -"Shall I dress?" asked Merriam, gladly getting out of bed. - -"No, no," said Rockwell impatiently. "Just put on your bath robe and -slippers." - -Having followed this instruction, Merriam stepped to the glass and with -a few quick strokes of the brush smoothed his hair, Rockwell watching -him without comment. Then they went into the sitting room. - -Merriam blankly perceived that the sitting room was empty--of Mollie -June. - -"She has a slight headache," said Alicia kindly--suffering still, we may -hope, from pangs of conscience. - -Aunt Mary was sitting in the senatorial armchair, which had been turned -about to face the rest of the room. She looked long and hard at -Merriam--an intensification of that close scrutiny with which, it seemed -to him, she had always distinguished him. Merriam, in his bath robe, -sustained it awkwardly but manfully. Alicia and Rockwell were standing. -The silence was rather portentous. - -"Sit down, all of you," said Aunt Mary suddenly. - -The three younger persons present--even Rockwell seemed youthful beside -Aunt Mary in her dominant mood--rather hurriedly found seats. - -"Is the door locked, Philip?" - -Rockwell rose, went to the hall door, turned the key, and returned to -his chair. - -"Tell him," said Aunt Mary. - -Rockwell's budget of news was certainly considerable and important. - -In the first place, George Norman was "better." Rockwell and Aunt Mary -had gone to see him at Jennie's after the Reform League luncheon. That -was why they were so late. He undoubtedly had a touch of bronchitis, -with some fever and a cough, but seemed to be improving. He could be -brought back to the hotel that evening. Aunt Mary had sat down by his -bed and told him briefly but plainly of the happenings at the hotel the -previous evening, and had extorted a feeble, amazed acquiescence in the -astonishing turn which had been given to his career--an acquiescence -which she had immediately communicated by telephone from Jennie's to -Mayor Black. - -In the second place, the story of Norman's evening at Reiberg's was all -over the city--not among the populace, of course, but among the -politicians and business men and clubmen--the men who know things. Not -only the story in _Tidbits_, which everybody seemed to have read and to -have assigned unhesitatingly to Norman, but the further fact that from -Reiberg's he had gone in the taxi to "a certain little flat"--that -seemed to be the approved phrase,--and had spent the night there, and -was still there. The simple truth, in short, was known. Rockwell had -taken his cue perforce from Merriam's impulsive denial to Thompson and -had flatly contradicted the whole story. Senator Norman had spent the -evening, after his interviews with Mr. Crockett and with Mayor Black, at -the hotel with his wife, and was there now, slightly indisposed with a -severe cold which had threatened to turn into bronchitis. His downright -assertions had, Rockwell believed, shaken the confident rumours and -would probably delay any further publication of them for at least a day. -But it was necessary to produce evidence. - -"We shall have to use you again to-night," he said to Merriam. "I have -invited the Mayor and Mr. Wayward to dine with you here at the -hotel--downstairs in the Peacock Cabaret." - -"Shall I have to play the Senator there?" gasped Merriam--"in public!" - -"Semi-public," said Rockwell. "I have reserved a table in an alcove. -We shall put you in the corner. All the rest of us will be between you -and the general gaze. Oh, we shall get away with it. It's much less -dangerous than trying to impose at close range in a private interview on -some one who really knows the Senator--as you did on Thompson this -morning." - -"Does Mr. Wayward know?" asked Merriam. - -"Of the impersonation? Not yet. But Alicia shall prepare him in -advance." - -Alicia nodded. "That's all right," she said. "Daddy will enjoy it. -He'll think it's a huge joke." - -"Moreover," continued Rockwell, with rather apprehensive eyes on -Merriam, "I have accepted an invitation for Senator Gorman to speak at -the Reform League luncheon to-morrow." - -"Do they have luncheons and speeches every day?" asked Merriam, sparring -for time, for of course he saw what was coming. - -"Not usually, but they've been having a series. To-morrow is the last -one. It's the perfect opportunity for Norman to come out openly for the -League. When the invitation came, I simply had to accept it." - -"But if George Norman isn't able to speak?" queried Alicia, fearlessly -coming to the point. - -"Then you'll have to make the speech!" said Rockwell bluntly to Merriam. - -"But how can I?" - -"You were a debater in college." - -"Yes, but the speech itself----" - -"Oh, Aunt Mary will fix you up with a speech." - -Merriam turned to that silent mistress of the situation, sitting calmly -in the senatorial armchair. - -"George is so very busy that I often write his speeches for him," she -said, as if it were the most natural arrangement in the world. "I have -several sketched out now. We can make a choice among them. I will -write it out in full and you can learn it, or I will turn over the -outline to you and you can work it up in your own words--if you have to -make it." - -"You probably won't," Rockwell hastened to say. "Norman is really much -better. After a comfortable night here at the hotel he will be all -right. If he's a little hoarse, we can't help it. But you must stay -over, you see," he added determinedly,--"to make sure. That speech must -be made." - -"But my school!" cried Merriam. - -"You'll have to send another telegram," said Aunt Mary. - -"What's a day or two of school?" asked Rockwell impatiently, with a -layman's insensibility to the pedagogical dogmas of absolute regularity -and punctuality. "Besides, if you really were sick," he added more -tactfully, "they would have to get along without you, wouldn't they?" - -"So much is at stake," said Aunt Mary. "George's future, and all that -that may mean to the State and Nation. If we can bring him to throw the -weight of his popularity and leadership on the right side!" - -"You can't desert us now, Mr. Merriam," cried Alicia. "When it means so -much to Aunt Mary and Philip and Mollie June!" - -Crafty Alicia! Her guile was, of course, clearly apparent to Merriam. -But it is perfectly possible to perceive that an influence is being -deliberately brought to bear on one without being able to resist that -influence. - -"Very well. I'll telegraph again," he said. - -"Better do it now," said Rockwell, promptly clinching this decision. He -rose, went to the writing table, got out a telegraph form, and sat down. - -"What shall I write?" - -Merriam collected himself as best he could under Alicia's admiring, -expectant eyes and Aunt Mary's steady regard. - -"Better," he dictated, "but doctor won't let me leave to-night. Expect -to be down to-morrow night." - -"That's good," said Aunt Mary, in a tone of quiet approval which -gratified Merriam more probably than he realised. - -Rockwell finished writing and turned in his chair. - -"I'll be going down in a few minutes. I'll send it then. Now you'll -need to dress for dinner--Senator! Pack up your things too. After -dinner you and I will leave the hotel together in a taxi. We shall drive -over to the University Club. There we shall simply go up to the Library -for a few minutes and then come down again, walk up Michigan Avenue for -a block or two and catch another taxi and drive to the Nestor House. -There you can register under your own name. Simpson will send your -things over. I shall go on and get Norman and bring him back here. You -see? Senator Norman leaves the hotel about nine o'clock with his new -manager--me. Within an hour or so he returns, still in my company, and -goes to his room. If he's all right, you can go down to Riceville on the -morning train if you like. I'll come to see you before you go." - -"We'll _all_ go over to see you," said Alicia, with an unmistakable -emphasis on the "all." "We shall have so much to thank you for!" - -Merriam did not reply to this cordial remark. - -"Why do we go to the University Club?" he asked. - -"And not directly to the other hotel?" said Rockwell. "Well, I'm afraid -we may be rather closely watched. To tell the truth, I suspect that the -driver of the taxi we take here may be questioned afterwards as to where -he set us down. The University Club will tell them nothing." - -To Merriam's excited mood this explanation, with its hint of powerful -hidden enemies intently watching every move which he and his friends -could make, added a touch of piquancy to the situation that was nothing -short of delightful. - -He could not well express this, however, and Rockwell, who was all -business with no such romantic nonsense in his head, immediately sent -them about their several parts. He himself was first to take Alicia to -her waiting limousine. - -When Alicia and Rockwell had departed Merriam sought to return to -his--the Senator's--bedroom. But Aunt Mary detained him. - -"Sit down, Mr. Merriam," she said, kindly enough but in a manner that -demanded unquestioning obedience. - -Then she rose and entered Mollie June's bedroom but immediately -returned. - -"Mollie June is dressing for dinner," she said. An instant's pause. -Then, looking hard at Merriam, "She's a lovely child." - -Both the look and the final word provoked Merriam to a sort of -resentment. - -"I don't believe she's as much of a child as you think," he said boldly. - -"It depends on the point of view, no doubt," said Aunt Mary drily. - -Then she began to ask him about himself, his family, his own life, on -the farm of his boyhood, at college, and at Riceville--all those facts -which Alicia had so much more tactfully elicited in the private dining -room off the Peacock Cabaret the night before and some others in which -Alicia had not been interested. Merriam had nothing to be ashamed of -and spoke up promptly and manfully in his replies, wondering in the back -of his mind the while what inscrutable thought or purpose prompted Aunt -Mary in her catechising. He little dreamt that the whole course and -happiness of his life turned on the showing he was able to make in this -odd examination. - -There is no doubt that Aunt Mary--whatever her idea may have been--was -satisfied. When at length she had no more questions to ask the -expression of her eyes, though they still rested on him, was almost one -of absence. She drew a deeper breath than was her wont--suggestive, at -least, of a sigh. - -"You give a good account of yourself," she said. "You are worthy of the -Norman blood." - -Greater praise than that no man could have from Aunt Mary, as Merriam -dimly realised. - -"I wish George were more like you." - -Immediately she added, with a conscious return to dominating briskness: - -"You must dress. So must I." - -And she rose and without looking again at Merriam went into Mollie -June's bedroom. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *THE SENATORIAL DINNER* - - -At last, at twenty-five minutes after six, Merriam sank, exhausted but -immaculate, into an easy chair and lit a cigarette, in an effort to -compose his nerves and regain the _sang froid_ he needed for his -imminent role of a particularly debonair senator of the United States -acting as host to a brilliant dinner party. - -At half past six precisely, Aunt Mary knocked on his door and he opened -that door and announced himself ready. - -Aunt Mary wore another black evening gown, very similar, in masculine -eyes, to the one in which she had appeared the night before, except that -it was less conspicuously burdened with jet. Tall and erect, with her -gray hair plainly but carefully dressed, she looked every inch a -senator's sister and--this would have pleased her--a Norman. - -Advancing into the sitting room, Merriam encountered Mollie June, -standing again beside the bowl of roses. She was in pink--tulle over -satin, though Merriam could not have described it so. But the vivid -colour and the dainty softness of the fabric he could appreciate quite -well enough, at least in their contiguity to the slender figure, white -throat and shoulders, and charming complexion of Mollie June. There is -no doubt that he looked a moment longer than he should. The debonair -senatorial outside of him was moved to say, "How lovely you are!" But -the Ricevillian pedagogue underneath blocked the utterance. Perhaps his -eyes said it plainly enough to satisfy Mollie June, for she evinced no -disappointment. - -"We must go right down, mustn't we?" she said, raising her eyes from the -roses. - -"Yes," said Aunt Mary, in a tone of jarring briskness. - -A male figure which Merriam had not perceived stepped out of the -background, moved to the hall door, and opened it. Merriam saw that it -was Dr. Hobart, quite as point-device as himself and rather more at ease -but not nearly so handsome (though of this, I assure you, Merriam never -thought at all). - -Aunt Mary and Mollie June passed through the door. - -"Come along, Senator," said Dr. Hobart, in excellent spirits, and -Merriam mechanically followed and mechanically paused and waited while -the physician closed and locked the door. - -"This must be great fun for you," said Dr. Hobart as they went down the -hall towards the elevators. - -"Yes," returned Merriam without conviction, his eyes on a girlish figure -in pink that moved ahead of him. "Fun" did not strike him as exactly -the word. - -Fortunately at this point a small incident occurred which served to -bring Merriam out of the brown study--or perhaps we may say the roseate -study--into which he had fallen. - -As they approached the elevator lobby he became aware of the pretty -floor clerk who on the previous evening had been wearing Senator -Norman's violets. He was, of course, entirely unmindful of the fact -that on his way to Norman's rooms that morning he had passed her rudely -by without a glance, but he did notice that this evening she wore no -flowers and that she studiously avoided seeing him and smiled her best -smile upon Dr. Hobart instead. That gentleman, with a shade too much -alacrity, stepped aside so as to pass close to her desk and, leaning -down, spoke to her. The pretty floor clerk, from the toss of her head -and the pleased smile on Hobart's face, had said something saucy in -reply. - -"Good enough," thought Merriam, as they all stepped into the elevator. -"I'm glad she has more interests than one," and thought no more of the -incident at the time. - -In a moment or two more they had reached the basement floor, which was -their destination. - -Opposite the elevators on this floor was a small reception room or -parlour, and here Senator Norman's other guests were awaiting -him--Rockwell, Murray, Mayor Black, Alicia, and Alicia's father. - -To the last-named gentleman Merriam was immediately presented. He was a -stoutish, jovial man of fifty or so, bald of pate and humorous of eye, -and the amused particularity with which he surveyed Merriam and the -gusto with which he addressed him as "Senator" showed both that Alicia -had performed her task of enlightening him and that she had been right -as to the attitude he would take. - -"Splendid!" he whispered to Merriam. "You would have fooled me all -right," and he beamed delightedly. - -Alicia gave him only a minute. "They are ready," she said. "We are to -go right in. You are to walk with me." (This last to Merriam.) - -In a moment, therefore, Merriam found himself escorting Alicia down a -sort of central aisle among the tables of the Peacock Cabaret, behind an -excessively urbane head waiter, conscious that the rest of his guests -were making a more or less imposing procession after them, and intensely -conscious of suspended conversation throughout the great restaurant and -of countless curious eyes staring across rosebuds and water bottles at -himself. - -"Say something to me," whispered Alicia. "You mustn't look -self-conscious." - -Merriam glanced at her and realised for the first time that evening her -vivid, vigorous, peony-like beauty. - -"What can I say," he asked smiling, "except 'How lovely you are'?" and -he wondered why it was so easy to say this to Alicia when he had been -unable to say it to Mollie June. - -"Bravo, Boy Senator!" applauded Alicia, and then they reached the haven -of that alcove which Rockwell had promised. - -It was really a small square room quite separate from the main part of -the Peacock Cabaret except that there was no wall between. The head -waiter guided Merriam to the seat at the far end of the table. Thus -when he sat down he would be facing the main dining room, visible to all -its occupants, yet screened from them by the table and his own guests -about that table. It was really an excellent device for displaying him -in public and still protecting him from close inspection. - -In a moment the whole party had arrived and been seated. - -A canape was being served, and Alicia at his end of the table and her -father at the other end were starting conversation. Merriam glanced -across the board at Mollie June. For some reason a charming girl never -looks more lovely than at table. She looked up and caught his gaze. -Her face was grave. He thought she looked wistful. For a moment only he -met her eyes, then turned to reply to a remark of Alicia's. Somehow his -spirits soared. He plunged into the conversation with a zest which he -had hardly known since his fraternity days. Mollie June said little, -but she laughed at the stories and seemed to become excited and happy. -She was content, perhaps, to enact the role of the gallery to which -Merriam was playing with such excellent effect. As for Rockwell and -Aunt Mary, they sat by in serene content: the affair was going well; as -long as that was the case they need not exert themselves. - -The mildly uproarious party undoubtedly attracted the desired amount of -attention from the main dining room. Eyes were turned and necks craned, -and couples and groups that passed the alcove almost invariably slowed -their steps to stare. Some dozens of men who had heard the stories of -the real Norman's whereabouts were convinced that these were false, at -least in part; by the witness of their own eyes they knew that the -Senator was that evening at any rate in the bosom of his family at the -hotel. They could be relied upon to assert as much in all parts of the -city on the following day. - -Only one outsider ventured to intrude upon the party and submit Merriam -to the ordeal of closer inspection, and he got no nearer than the length -of the table. This was the Colonel Abbott whom Merriam had so -perilously encountered at the very beginning of his play-acting the -night before. Merriam remembered him vividly, called him by name, and -replied cordially to his expressions of pleasure at finding him -recovered from his threatened indisposition. So that danger passed, and -the table, after a brief exchanging of relieved glances, recovered its -gayety, perhaps with some accentuation. - -A little later came a reporter. Merriam professed that he had "nothing -to say." Asked if it was true that he was to speak at the Reform League -luncheon on the morrow, he replied, with an inner quailing but with -outward composure, that he was. - -The reporter turned to Mr. Wayward. Was it true that he intended to -make a contribution to the campaign fund of the Reform League? Mr. -Wayward's joviality suffered an eclipse. His eyes fell. But on raising -them he encountered a glance from his daughter that can only be -described as stern, and promptly admitted that it was true. - -The reporter tried Rockwell, but the latter shook his head so -indomitably that the interviewer at once abandoned him and passed to -Mayor Black. That gentleman promptly and as it were automatically gave -utterance to several eloquent phrases, too meaningless to be recorded. -Even the reporter neglected to make notes of them, and looked about the -table for other prey. Finding none, he excused himself with the remark, -"I am making note of the names, of course," and disappeared. - -Once more the conspiratorial table drew a long breath and endeavoured to -recover its festive mood, but before much progress had been made in that -direction a bell boy came with a note addressed to Senator Norman and -asking that he and Mr. Rockwell come to Room D, one of the private -dining rooms. - -Merriam passed the note to Rockwell and then to Aunt Mary, and the three -prime conspirators stared at one another. None of them knew the -handwriting, which was poor and hurried and in pencil. - -"I'll go," said Rockwell. "You stay here." - -The rest of the party did not know what had happened, but in their -situation the most trivial incident was, of course, sufficient to cause -uneasiness. The conversation during Rockwell's absence was forced and -fragmentary. In fact, it was almost a solo performance on Alicia's -part. Merriam caught Mollie June's eyes upon him, and was grateful for -their expression of self-unconscious solicitude. - -Presently the boy returned again with the same note, at the bottom of -which was scribbled: "Come--Room D. Rockwell." - -Merriam showed it to Aunt Mary. - -"Is that his handwriting?" - -"Yes, it is." - -"Then I suppose I must go." - -He rose, murmured an "excuse me" to the table at large, and made his way -towards the open end of the alcove. As he did so he glanced at Mollie -June. Alarm stood in her eyes. Coming opposite her chair, he bent down -and said gently: - -"It's all right. I probably shan't be long." - -It was perhaps a little too much in the tone and manner that Mollie -June's real husband might properly have used. Mollie June herself did -not seem to notice this; she appeared duly comforted. But Mr. Wayward, -at her left, undoubtedly stared after Merriam with an odd expression in -his genial eyes. - -Following the bell boy, Merriam tried hard to think what might be in -store for him. "Thompson" and "Crockett" were the only ideas his blank -mind could muster. Had they discovered the trick and come to threaten -him with exposure? Well, Rockwell would be present. He leaned heavily -on Rockwell. - -The boy stopped before a curtained door. - -"This is it, sir," he said and waited expectantly. - -Merriam fumblingly produced a dime, and the boy departed. Drawing a -deep breath, he pushed aside the curtain and entered Room D. - -To his great relief the only persons present were Rockwell and Simpson. -They were both standing, beside a bare table. Merriam vaguely -remembered that Simpson had not appeared in connection with the serving -of the last two or three courses. - -"Now tell it again," said Rockwell promptly. - -The waiter looked steadily at Merriam. - -"It's this way, sir," he said. "Mr. Thompson, as was the Senator's -manager until this morning, has found out where the Senator really is, -at----" the man looked away. "Jennie's," he finished, without -expression in his tone. "There's a girl she lives with, Margery Milton, -who's a milliner's assistant at one of the department stores. He got it -from her. Straight from her he came here to have dinner with Mr. -Crockett, out in the Cabaret. When I saw them come in, I turned your -party over to another man and served them myself. I managed to hear a -lot of what they said. Mr. Crockett had learned of your dinner party, -of course. Putting that together with what Mr. Thompson had got from -Margery, they saw the game. Mr. Crockett would hardly believe it at -first. But Mr. Thompson means to make sure. He's going to Jennie's -himself about ten o'clock to-night--they have some kind of a committee -first,--and force his way in, if necessary, and see the Senator himself. -Then they'll have proof, you see. I thought I'd better let you and Mr. -Rockwell know." - -"You did just right," said Rockwell warmly, "and we'll make it worth -your while." - -He turned abruptly to the younger man. - -"Merriam! You're the only one who can save us in this fix." - -"How?" said Merriam, to whom it seemed that all was lost. - -"Listen, man. You go back to our table and excuse yourself and me. -'Important business.' Don't tell them anything more. Not even Aunt -Mary. We haven't time. Better bring Murray. We may need an extra man, -and we can trust him best. We three will take a taxi at once. We shall -have to circle about a bit, to throw off possible trailers. But in less -than an hour we'll be at Jennie's. You shall take Norman's place there, -and we'll take Norman and bring him back to the hotel, to his room. -Just as we planned, only a bit sooner. When Thompson arrives, Jennie -shall let him in. He'll insist on seeing you. Let him. You're not -Senator Norman. Tell him so. Jennie shall tell him so, too. He'll see -it himself, of course, as soon as he looks close with his eyes open. You -and Jennie must make him think you played off the resemblance on this -Margery Milton for a joke. We'll fix her, too, of course. You'd better -tell him your real name, so he can look you up if he wants to. He won't -expose you in Riceville. He'll have no motive to. And he won't think -anything of your little escapade in itself. You came to Chicago on -school business--went out to see the sights--got a little more liquor -than you were used to. Your taxi driver took you to some dance hall. -He'll interpret 'Reiberg's.' You stayed there a while--don't know what -you did--met Jennie there--and she brought you home. You were pretty -sick in the morning and stayed over all day: You see? It all hangs -together, and relieves Norman entirely of the Reiberg incident and -Jennie, and cinches his blameless presence at the hotel all last night -and all to-day. It'll save everything! Better than we planned. -Couldn't be better!" - -Rockwell had worked himself up to exultant enthusiasm. - -Merriam's emotions while this new plot was unfolded were sufficiently -complex. There was an opaque background of sheer bewilderment. There -was also a sharp sense of alarm at the thought of having his own name -appear in this business. But other sentiments, less acute individually, -but of some potency none the less, joined their voices with Rockwell's -to silence that alarm. There was the mere love of adventure, of playing -a dangerous game, which is strong in any healthy young man. Then there -was the thought of Mollie June: he would be doing it for her--making a -real sacrifice, of his reputation, possibly of his position, his -pedagogical career, for her sake. And, oddly enough, quite -simultaneously with this thought of Mollie June, there was a -recollection of "Jennie's" voice over the telephone. He was not -conscious that he was curious to see "Jennie," but I am afraid he was. - -Scarcely half a minute had passed when Rockwell, eagerly scanning his -face, cried, "You'll go!" - -"Yes," said Merriam, looking at Simpson's impassive countenance and -surprised at his own words, "I suppose I will." - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - *A DEVIOUS JOURNEY* - - -Rockwell, as usual, gave Merriam no time for reconsideration. - -"Go and make your excuses at the table then." - -But Merriam was still looking at Simpson. He had perceived that the -impassivity of the waiter's countenance covered a blank misery. - -"Simpson," he said, "we'll try to see that this works out to your -advantage--at Jennie's. Shake on that." And, in violation of all codes -on which the social system rests, he held out his hand as one man to -another. - -Simpson, much more rigorously trained in those codes than Merriam had -been, hesitated, glanced at Rockwell. But a light came into his eyes. -He seized the hand, gripped it, gave one spasmodic shake. - -"Thank you, sir!" he said. - -He dropped the hand and as quickly as possible regained his servitorial -manner. - -Merriam smiled at him and then spoke to Rockwell: - -"Where shall I join you--Murray and I?" - -"At the Ladies' Entrance," Rockwell replied. "It's less likely to be -watched than the other." - -Merriam turned and passed through the curtained doorway, down the hall, -and along one side of the Peacock Cabaret. The curtain being up on the -small stage and the moderately comely demoiselles of the chorus -executing a dance which involved a liberal display of white tights, he -reached his alcove comparatively unnoticed. - -He stopped beside Mollie June's chair, which was nearest the open side -of the alcove. All the members of the dinner party regarded him -anxiously; Aunt Mary's face was more than usually grim. Carefully -pitching his voice so that it should be audible to all at the table yet -should not carry to the main dining room without, he said: - -"I am tremendously sorry to have to desert this pleasant company, but -Mr. Rockwell and I are called away on important business. We should be -very glad if you will come too, Father Murray.--Can you come at once?" -he added as the priest stared. - -Aunt Mary's lips opened. - -"I'll explain later," said Merriam hurriedly. - -As he spoke, however, he realised that no opportunity to "explain later" -would probably be afforded him. Alicia had said they "all" would go to -see him in the morning at the Nestor House. They could not "all" come to -Jennie's. - -He looked down at Mollie June. She was looking up at him. His view of -her from above--the contour of her face and throat, the recalcitrant -wave of her soft hair, the brightness of her lifted eyes--might have -moved older and colder blood than Merriam's. He was close enough to -catch a faint, warm sense of her in the air. He desired to envelop her -in love. What he might do he could not resist. He laid his hand gently -over one of hers that rested on the edge of the table and bent to her -ear. - -"Mr. Rockwell will tell you to-morrow what I have done," he whispered. -"It is for your sake, Mollie--June." - -He straightened up. He was not flushed outwardly. He looked almost -cold. Father Murray was making his way down the side of the table. - -"Good night, all," said Merriam. "This way, Father Murray." - -He glanced once more at Mollie June--his last sight of her, he thought. -Her face was rosy and her eyes glistened. It was a picture for which a -man--a very young man, at least--might do anything, even sacrifice his -love. He smiled at her almost gaily, turned, and passed out of the -alcove, Father Murray following. - -They skirted the sides of the Peacock Cabaret in an effort to reach the -exit as little observed as possible. Unfortunately, before they -attained that goal, the curtain of the small stage descended, the white -legs of the chorus, kicking at it as it fell, were hidden from the -attentive eyes of the male diners, and not a few of these observed the -famous senator's escape. This probably mattered little, however, -because of Father Murray. The well-known High Churchman was enough to -shield the name of Norman. He could hardly be bound for Reiberg's, or -even, it would be argued, for "a certain little flat," in Father -Murray's company. - -They got their coats from the checkroom, went up the stairs to the first -floor, and made a detour through passages to the Ladies' Entrance. - -Rockwell was already there with a taxicab. He motioned to them to enter -it. - -Merriam was a little surprised, and Father Murray probably more so, to -find Simpson already within. Father Murray greeted him with clerical -suavity. Merriam said nothing. He was listening to Rockwell's colloquy -with the chauffeur: - -"This cab will probably be followed. Your first job is to shake off -pursuit. Circle around through the Loop--twist and turn--until you're -absolutely sure you've lost anybody who is after us. Then make for the -Eighteenth Street Station of the Alley L. If there's no one behind us -when you get there, it will be worth twenty-five dollars to you above -the fare." - -"Right, sir," said the man. "Jump in, sir." - -Rockwell stepped in and slammed the door, seating himself with Simpson, -his back to the driver. In a moment he was staring intently through the -peephole window in the back of the taxi. - -"See!" he said. - -Merriam, turning to look over his shoulder, perceived a yellow cab about -sixty feet behind them, also starting, at about the same pace as their -own. - -They went west to Fifth Avenue and turned north along the car tracks -under the Elevated. A moment later the yellow cab also turned north on -the car tracks. - -They swerved east on Randolph Street. For a minute or two the yellow -cab did not appear. It must have been caught behind some car or truck. -But presently it rounded the corner and sprinted till it was again -within about thirty yards of them, when it slowed down to their own -pace. - -Rockwell spoke through the tube to the chauffeur: - -"That yellow cab!" - -"I'll lose 'em!" the man replied, with reassuring confidence. - -At the second corner he turned north again and sped across the Clark -Street Bridge. The yellow cab also had business north of the river. - -Their subsequent maneuvers were at first decidedly puzzling to Merriam -and his fellow passengers, with the possible exception of Simpson. They -sped around and around a rectangle of streets enclosing half a dozen -squares, with one of its sides only one block from the River. On the -shorter sides they sometimes lost the yellow cab, but on the longer -stretches it always appeared in full and open chase behind them. - -"What the devil!" cried Rockwell as their driver turned west for the -fourth time on the southern, side of the rectangle--the street nearest -the River. - -Simpson spoke: "He's all right. It's the bridge trick." - -No further explanation was necessary. Their chauffeur suddenly swerved -south on Dearborn Street, making in a burst of speed for the River. The -bridge bell was jangling its warning that traffic must stop for the -opening of the bridge to let a steamer pass. Theirs was the last -vehicle on the bridge. The bars dropped behind them. Looking back -through the peephole window, our passengers had the satisfaction of -seeing the yellow cab caught behind the bars, unable to follow them, -unable even, because of other vehicles crowding behind, to turn out and -make a detour to another bridge. - -Rockwell excitedly seized the tube. "Good work!" he called. "I'll give -you another ten for that." - -"Thank you, sir," came the complacent reply. - -With a sigh of relaxing tension Merriam sank back in his corner, -abandoning the peephole. - -"Who do you suppose it was?" he asked. - -"Thompson?" - -"Oh, no, not Thompson himself. One of his henchmen. He and Norman have -all kinds of assistants!" - -"Where are we going?" asked Father Murray. - -Rockwell laughed. "I'd almost forgotten that you don't know yet. I'll -tell you," and he entered upon an explanation of Thompson's discovery -and proposed method of verification and their own counterplot. - -Father Murray was feebly protesting against the difficulties and dangers -of the counterplot, but these complaints were interrupted by the -stopping of the taxi. They had reached the Eighteenth Street Station of -the Elevated. - -Rockwell looked quickly through the peephole window and then opened the -door and jumped out. The others followed. They scanned the street in -both directions. There was no other taxicab in sight. - -Rockwell stepped up to the smiling chauffeur, asked the amount of the -fare, and paid it with the thirty-five dollars bonus. - -"You did the trick very neatly," he said. "Now scoot!" - -"Thank you, sir. Yes, sir." - -There was still no trace of curiosity in the man's tone or glance. - -"Come!" said Rockwell, and he led them to the entrance of the Elevated -Station. - -At Forty-Seventh Street they left the Elevated and, walking to the -corner, waited for a cross-town surface car. - -"What's the idea?" Merriam asked, his mind becoming active again. - -"Well," said Rockwell, "the first thing our late chauffeur will do after -getting back to town will be to gather in another twenty-five dollars or -maybe more for telling some one of Thompson's men where he left us. So -it's best to muss up our trail a bit more before we strike Jennie's." - -He was hailing an east-bound car. - -As they sat silent again inside, Merriam's mind took its cue from -Rockwell's last word. "Jennie's!" Phrases from his one brief telephone -dialogue with Jennie sounded in his ear, oddly clear and melodious: - -"Georgie, boy! Don't you know me?--You ought to!" with a thrilling -little laugh. "You must be careful, Georgie," in a lowered tone. "Can -you come anyway?--You'll telephone again?--Georgie, boy!" and the sound -of a kiss! - -These phrases--surely nothing in themselves--echoed in his mind with the -same unaccountable piquancy and warmth with which they had first come to -him over the telephone. He flushed a little, sitting there in the -stuffy, bumping, jangling car, as he recalled the way he had -involuntarily "played up" to them. He had promised to go to her if he -could get away, to telephone her again if he could. That was mere -trickery and deceit, a part of the game he was playing; that was all -right. But his final whispered "Dearie, good night!" Had that been -necessary? He remembered Rockwell's dry comment: "You don't need much -prompting!" But his thoughts ran away with him again. Now he was going -to see her--to spend a night in her apartment. What would she be -like--tall or short, slender like Mollie June or plump like Alicia, fair -or dark, with blue eyes or brown or black, curly hair or straight? He -could not frame an image that satisfied him as the instrument of that -voice. - -"Well, what is it to me?" he demanded roughly of himself, suddenly -realising the tenor of his meditations. "See here, my boy, you must be -careful. She's probably a regular chorus girl--or worse." (But he did -not really believe that of her.) "She's nothing whatever to me," he -asserted sternly to his truant fancy. "She belongs to--Simpson. And I -belong to Mollie June." - -The car stopped at last, and Rockwell was getting up. - -When they had descended into the street Merriam found that they were at -the end of the line by the Lake. - -"Illinois Central next," said Rockwell, grinning, and marched them to -the Forty-Seventh Street Station of that railway. None of the others -spoke. - -Their guide bought tickets to the City. "Are we going back to the Loop, -then?" thought Merriam. - -In a moment they were on the platform. Merriam walked back and forth -apart from the others, drawing deep breaths of the Lake air and looking -up at the stars, dimly bright in the April night. "I belong to Mollie -June," he said firmly to himself. - -Presently one of the odd little suburban trains drew up, and they -entered. - -But they had scarcely sat down and yielded up their tickets when -Rockwell routed them out--at Forty-Third Street. Evidently his buying -tickets clear to the City had been a part of his elaborate ruse. - -Rockwell went at once to a telephone to call up a neighbouring garage. - -Merriam took a cigarette and lighted it and again walked up and down. -His thoughts now ran unbidden upon Mollie June. Images of her crowded -his mind: Mollie June rosy and bright-eyed as he had seen her last at -the dinner table in the alcove of the Peacock Cabaret; Mollie June by -his "sick" bed, standing over him after he had impulsively declared his -love, her hand hovering above his hair, tears upon her face, turning -bravely away from him; Mollie June above the roses, as he had first seen -her that morning--was it only that morning?--lifting the wet stems from -the bowl; Mollie June confronting Mayor Black, refusing in angered -innocence to leave the room; Mollie June in the Peacock Cabaret the -night before; Mollie June in the front row in "Senior Algebra" back in -Riceville. Ah, he _did_ belong to Mollie June, heart and soul. There was -no doubt of that, and all the Jennies in the world were of no account -whatever. - -So it was a young man in a very laudable frame of mind indeed--waiving -the fact that Mollie June was a married woman!--whom Rockwell presently -bundled into the taxi he had summoned. Father Murray was already -inside. Rockwell followed, leaving Simpson to speak to the chauffeur. - -It puzzled Merriam to find Simpson thus placed in command, as it were, -and his thoughts came back to the present adventure. He listened -closely. - -"Stop first at Rankin's Hardware Store," Simpson said to the chauffeur, -"on Forty-Third Street." - -In a couple of minutes, it seemed, they stopped before Rankin's -emporium. Simpson alone descended. The other three remained in the -taxicab, Rockwell openly smiling at the puzzled inquiry on Merriam's -face but vouchsafing no enlightenment. Merriam would not ask questions. - -The hardware shop was closed, but there was a light within and a man. -Simpson pounded at the door till he gained admittance, and in a few -minutes returned bearing--a small stepladder! - -"What on earth----?" The words were almost starting from Merriam's -lips, but he managed to swallow them, and listened again for Simpson's -direction to the driver. - -It was an address: "612 Dalton Place." That meant nothing to Merriam. - -Again a brief drive, Merriam laboriously cogitating, with bewildered -eyes on the small ladder--an affair of some six steps,--which Simpson -had brought into the cab and was holding upright between them. - -Father Murray asked the question which Merriam had so manfully (and -youthfully) repressed: - -"What's that for?" - -"You'll see," said Rockwell, grinning, enjoying the mystery. - -Simpson remained as silent and grave as an undertaker. - -The taxicab had turned several corners and covered perhaps a couple of -miles of streets. Now it slowed down, stopped. - -"There ain't no 612," said the driver through the tube. - -Rockwell took command again. - -"Isn't there?" he said. "Let's see." - -He got out. Peering through the open door of the taxicab, Merriam could -see that the house before which they had stopped was numbered 608. - -"612's a vacant lot," he heard the chauffeur say. - -"So it seems," Rockwell replied. "Well, we'll get out here anyway." - -Merriam eagerly took this cue, and the other two followed, Simpson -bringing his ladder. Rockwell was handing a couple of green bills to -the driver. - -"Drive on opposite where 612 ought to be," he said, "and wait. We'll be -back by and by." - -"This way," he added, and started with Merriam and Father Murray down -the street past the vacant lot. Simpson, carrying his small stepladder -as unobtrusively as possible at his side, followed laggingly behind. - -The square beyond the next avenue seemed to be occupied entirely by a -huge block of apartments. They did not cross the avenue but turned the -corner and walked on down one side of the great flat building but on the -opposite side of the street. Their side held a miscellany of small -detached houses. - -Merriam glanced at Rockwell. He was slowing his steps and seemed to be -watching a couple of men who were moving in the same direction as their -own on the other side of the street immediately under the apartments. - -A moment later these two men turned in at one of the entrances of the -flat building. After perhaps twenty feet more Rockwell glanced over his -shoulder. Merriam involuntarily did likewise. Half a block behind them -was Simpson with his ladder. There was no one else in sight. - -Rockwell stopped for a second, then said, "Come!" and quickly crossed -the street and entered another door of the flat building. - -Within the vestibule he stopped again. - -"We must wait for Simpson," he said. - -He began reading the names below the battery of bells. Merriam and -Father Murray stared at each other. - -In a moment Simpson joined them with his ladder. Rockwell promptly -opened the inner door of the vestibule and proceeded to ascend the -stairs. Simpson trudged after him, and Merriam and the priest followed -perforce. - -They reached the second floor and the third and continued on up to the -fourth, which was the top floor. - -Arriving there, Merriam found Rockwell pointing to a sort of trapdoor in -the ceiling above the landing at the head of the stairs. - -"Right!" he whispered. - -Simpson calmly set his ladder down, separated its legs, and planted it -firmly beneath the trap. He and Rockwell paid no attention to the doors -of the two apartments which opened off the landing within a few feet of -them. Simpson amended the ladder and, exerting his strength, pushed the -trap door up. It moved with a grating sound, startlingly loud in their -quasi-burglarious situation The night air rushed in. The trap gave upon -the roof of the building. - -Simpson did not hesitate but pulled himself up on to the roof. - -Rockwell followed. - -"You're to come too," he said as he looked down at Merriam gleefully and -winked. He was evidently pleased with himself. "You wait here, Father -Murray. Remember, if any one comes you're a roof inspector. That's -next door to a sky pilot anyway!" - -The priest groaned but made no protest, well knowing, doubtless, that -rebellion now would avail him naught, and Merriam quickly followed -Rockwell on to the roof. - -It was a flat tar-and-gravel roof--not an unpleasant place to be in the -starry April night. They circled about chimneys and miscellaneous pipe -heads and stepped across brick ledges, which seemed to separate -different sections of the building from one another. - -Presently they were approaching the opposite side of the building, -having circled the interior court and light wells. They came to another -trap-door, a twin of the one by which they had ascended. - -Simpson was about to open this second trap when Rockwell spoke: - -"Wait a minute!" - -Stooping lower and lower till at last he seemed to be almost sitting on -his heels as he walked, he made his way to the edge of the roof on the -new street and peeped over the parapet--a dozen feet perhaps beyond the -trapdoor. For a moment only he looked, then returned in the same -cautious and laborious manner. - -"We were right," he said to Simpson. - -"Watchers?" Simpson asked. - -"Two of them. And half way down the block a taxi." - -But now Simpson was carefully raising the trap-door. After listening for -a minute he put his head down and looked. - -"Coast is clear," he reported. - -"Go ahead, then," said Rockwell. - -So Simpson put his legs down inside, hung, and dropped into the -vestibule. Rockwell and Merriam followed. - -Straightening himself up inside, Merriam found Rockwell facing the door -of the right-hand apartment. - -"This is Jennie's!" he whispered. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - *JENNIE* - - -Rockwell knocked twice. A girl with a thin, dark face peeped out. - -"Hello, Margery," said Rockwell. - -"Oh, how d'you do?" said the girl, recognizing the speaker. Relief was -mingled in her tone with continuing caution. "Who's with you?" - -"Friends," said Rockwell. "Mr. Merriam, the Senator's double. And -Simpson." - -"Simpson can't come here!" said Margery sharply. - -Merriam glanced at Simpson and was amazed to see how moved he was. He -had a sense that the man could hardly keep himself from trembling. - -"He's come to help take Norman away," said Rockwell. "He need go no -farther than the hall. Come, Margery, let us in. We can't stand here -all night. I'll explain to both of you inside. I'm George's friend, -you know." - -"Well!" Still unwillingly Margery released the chain and moved back, -opening the door for them. - -As they stepped inside she stared at Merriam. - -"The devil!" she exclaimed. - -"No," said the young man, "my name's Merriam. How do you do, Miss -Milton?" - -He looked at Margery almost as curiously as she was looking at him. He -was really as innocent as Mollie June--more so, in fact, not being -married,--and Margery was the first member of the demi-monde or the near -demimonde with whom he had ever had personal contact. He found her -disappointing. She was thin to the point of angularity, in a trying -yellow negligee, with straight black hair, black eyes that were -unpleasantly direct, and a lean dark face that was undeniably hard. - -For a moment only she stared. Then she shut the door and spoke to -Simpson: - -"You stay here!" - -"Yes," said Simpson, with more than servitorial humility. - -Rockwell was advancing into the sitting room, which opened immediately -off the tiny hall, and Merriam, feeling himself dismissed by Miss -Milton, followed. - -Merriam's sole first impression of the sitting room was of a soft, -rather agreeable harmony in yellow. The wall paper, the hangings, the -upholstery of chairs and davenport, the shades of lights were all in -mild tints of that pleasant colour. Probably Margery's yellow negligee -was intended to fit into this ensemble. - -But he had no time for detailed observation. For as they stepped forward -the yellow portieres at one side of the room parted, and another girl -appeared between them--undoubtedly Jennie. - -This time he was surprised but hardly disappointed. The figure between -the portieres was that of a stage parlour maid--just the right height -for a soubrette and just pleasantly, youthfully slender, yet rounded, in -a trim-fitting dress of some black material, cut rather low at the -throat and edged with white, with a ridiculously small, purely -ornamental, white apron with pockets. Black-silk-stockinged ankles and -black, high-heeled satin pumps completed a picture that was both chic -and demure. Merriam remembered that it was as a parlour maid that -Norman had first known Jennie and guessed that this costume had been -assumed for his benefit. - -In a moment the portieres closed behind her. She was looking at the -older man, having barely glanced at Merriam. - -"How do, Mr. Rockwell," she said. - -Merriam, almost with alarm, recognised the tones that had so piqued him -over the telephone. - -Then she turned to him. - -"This is---- Gee, but you're like him! I wouldn't have believed it." - -"Miss Higgins, Mr. Merriam," said Rockwell tardily. - -Merriam responded awkwardly: - -"How do you do, Miss----" - -"'Miss Jennie' will do," interrupted Jennie. - -(Merriam remembered uncomfortably how Mollie June had hit upon a similar -"compromise.") - -"I ain't partial to 'Higgins,'" Jennie added. "I'm thinking of changing -it to 'Montmorency.' Wouldn't 'Jennie Montmorency' be nice, Mr. -Rockwell?" - -"I don't think it fits very well," said Rockwell. "You'd better change -it to Simpson." - -Jennie coloured. She coloured easily, as Merriam was to learn. Now -that she had turned again to Rockwell he had a chance to look at her -face. She was an exceedingly pretty blonde. Her throat was attractively -rounded, her shoulders also. Those shoulders might be unpleasant when -she was older and stouter, but at present they were charming. Her chin -and cheeks were also daintily full--quite the opposite of Margery -Milton's. The cheeks were pink, slightly heightened with rouge perhaps -but not with paint. The eyes were softly, brightly blue. The hair fair -and smoothly wavy, if one may attempt to express a nuance by combining -contradictory terms. In short, she was, as some of her admirers -undoubtedly expressed it, "not a bit hard to look at." - -For a moment Jennie's colour flooded. Then came her retort to Rockwell: - -"Mind your own business," she said. - -The words were sharp, but somehow the tone was not. The voice was still -soft and--warm. It is the only word. It was the voice one might -attribute to a kitten, if a kitten were gifted with articulate speech. - -Rockwell only laughed. At the same moment Margery Milton entered from -the hall, where she had presumably been impressing upon Simpson the -necessity of remaining in strict hiding. - -Jennie glanced at her friend. - -"Well," she said, "may as well sit down." - -She dropped into a chair and crossed one leg over the other. - -"You've come to take Georgie away," she continued as the others sat -down. - -"Yes," said Rockwell. "Listen, Jennie. You too, Margery," and he began -to explain the new situation which had resulted primarily from Margery's -confidences to Thompson. He did not soften this point in his relation. - -"See what your gabbling's done," said Jennie, without anger, to her -friend when he had finished. "You always talk too much." - -"I can talk if I please," said Margery sullenly. - -"It will pay you better to keep still this time," said Rockwell. - -"Pay me? How much?" demanded Margery promptly. - -"Say a hundred dollars." - -"A hundred----! I'm mum as a stone image. When do I get it, though?" - -"Here's twenty now on account." Rockwell held out a yellow-backed bill, -which Margery quickly accepted. "You get the rest when this is all -over." - -"How do I know I get the rest?" - -"Shut up, Marge," said Jennie. "You know Mr. Rockwell." - -"We've no time to lose," Rockwell continued, looking at his watch. -"It's twenty-five minutes to ten now. Thompson said ten, but he might -come a bit sooner. We must get Norman away at once. You understand that -you're to let Mr. Merriam go to bed in his stead. When Thompson comes -you must admit him. You can pretend to be unwilling to do so, but you -must let him in without too much fuss. You're to tell him that Norman's -not here and has not been here--that there's a man here who looks -tremendously like Norman and that at first you fooled Margery into -thinking it was Norman." - -While Rockwell was issuing these instructions Jennie's cheeks had grown -hot. - -"I'm not that kind," she cried. "I've never had any one but George." -Margery also glowered. - -"I know that, my dear," said Rockwell, mendaciously perhaps but -promptly. "But you've got to do what I tell you to-night. You don't -care what a fellow like Thompson thinks. He always thinks the worst -anyhow. It's to save George. He'll be ruined unless we can fool -Thompson completely to-night. It's for George," he repeated. "You'd do -a lot for George." - -Jennie's colour was subsiding. She had uncrossed her legs and was -sitting erect. She looked fixedly at Rockwell. - -"I _have_ done a lot for him," she said. - -"I know," said Rockwell. "And you'll do this to-night." He was using -his most persuasive tones. - -Jennie stole an almost timid glance at Merriam. - -The latter's youthful chivalry was aroused. He was filled with pity for -her, mingled with something like admiration on account of her -prettiness. He saw her, more or less correctly, as a pathetic victim of -real love and a false social system. He smiled at her reassuringly. - -"It'll be all right," he said. "I shan't trouble you at all." - -Jennie's glance lingered on his face--the face that was so much like -Norman's. She saw him for the clean, innocent, naive boy that he was. -He was what George Norman might once have been, long years ago. I am -afraid that something akin to interest crept into her look. She dropped -her eyes. - -"All right," she said curtly to Rockwell. "I suppose I will." - -"Jennie, you're a fool!" cried Margery. - -"Shut up, Marge," said Jennie, with whom this seemed to be a frequent -locution. - -Rockwell had already risen. - -"Is George dressed?" he asked. - -"No," said Jennie. "He's too sick." - -"Come, then," said Rockwell to Merriam. "We must help him into his -things." - -He crossed the small room and passed through the yellow portieres. -Having been at the apartment earlier in the day with Aunt Mary, he was -acquainted with its geography. - -Merriam rose to follow, but he felt that something more ought to be said -to relieve the half-hostile awkwardness of the situation. Jennie's eyes -were still cast down. - -"Is he pretty sick?" he asked as he moved across the room. He was not -much concerned about Senator Norman, but he could think of no other -remark. - -Jennie raised her eyes and looked at him--an unreadable glance. - -"Pretty sick," she said, almost indifferently. - -Merriam paused a moment before the portieres, looking back, still -meeting her eyes. - -Then he turned his own away and pushed the portieres aside. He found -himself in a dining room, done entirely in blue, as the sitting room was -in yellow. Rockwell was already opening a door on the further side. -Merriam quickened his steps and was close behind the older man in -entering a small white bedroom. - -On a single bed therein lay Senator George Norman. Evidently he had -heard their voices in the sitting room, for he had raised himself on his -elbow. - -He and Merriam stared at each other in the amazement that is inevitable -to two men who find themselves really bearing a striking physical -resemblance to each other, however much they may have been forewarned. -We are so accustomed to the idea that each of us has a sort of exclusive -copyright on his own particular exterior that we cannot seriously -believe in anything approaching a replica unless actually confronted -with it. - -The Senator did not look especially "boyish" as he lay there. His -ruffled hair was indeed practically untouched with gray, but his cheeks -were haggard and feverish, and there were many little wrinkles about his -mouth and eyes. For all that Merriam could hardly believe he was not -looking into a mirror. The experience was hardly pleasant for either -man. "This is what I shall be like some time when I am old and ill," -Merriam thought; and the Senator can hardly have escaped the bitter -reflection of the man who has left many years behind him: "That is what -I was once." Looking closer, Merriam could detect slight differences. -The lips and nostrils of his distinguished relative were undoubtedly a -little fuller than his own, and--yes, he surely was not flattering -himself in thinking that the chin was rounder and weaker. But above all -such trivial points the likeness rose overwhelmingly, incredibly -complete. Merriam even recognised a similarity of movement as the sick -man impatiently twisted himself on the bed. - -Rockwell was standing silent, also no doubt inspecting the resemblance -of which he had made such remarkable use. - -The Senator was the first to find his tongue. - -"So you're my virtuous double," he said, with a sort of petulant scorn. - -"The voice, too!" Rockwell thought. He almost dreaded to hear Merriam's -reply, which would echo the very quality and timbre of the other's -speech, as if he were mocking him. But Merriam did not seem to notice. -The fact is one cannot judge the sound of one's own voice nor appreciate -the similarity in another's tones or in an imitation. - -"I'm the double," Merriam was saying. - -For a moment longer the Senator stared. Then he laughed. He evidently -laughed more easily than Merriam, and somewhat differently. Merriam -made a mental note that if he should be involved in any further -impersonation he must be careful of his laugh. - -"Well, it's rather convenient just this minute," said Norman, none too -courteously, "though it may be damned inconvenient in the end." - -"We'll help you dress," said Rockwell. "We've come to take you to the -hotel, you know." - -"Yes, I know that all right," said Norman. "If I'm to be a damned -reformer, I must get out of this." He laughed again. "Hand me those -trousers, will you?" - -He put his legs out of the bed. He had already dressed himself as far -as his shirt. Then he had apparently given the job up and got back into -bed. - -"I'm weak as a kitten," he continued, "and I've the deuce of a fever, -but I guess I can make it. You've a taxi, of course?" - -"Yes," said Rockwell. - -He did not tell Norman that the road to the taxi lay through two -trapdoors and across a roof. Neither did he mention the fact that -Merriam was to stay at Jennie's or allude to Thompson's coming. Perhaps -he feared that if Norman knew of Thompson's approach he would prefer to -stay where he was and join forces with him again. - -In a very few minutes Norman was fully dressed--in the evening clothes -in which he had left the hotel the night before, on his way, as he -supposed, to Mayor Black's. Rockwell tied his white bow for him. - -During the process of dressing he and Merriam were continually glancing -at each other. Neither could resist the attraction. Several times they -caught each other at it. - -At about their third mutual detection, which happened during the tying -of the bow, Norman laughed again. - -"We're certainly a pair," he said. "Whether aces or deuces remains to -be seen, eh? - -"Gad, but I'm weak," he added, sinking on to the bed as Rockwell -finished his job. "You may have to carry me downstairs." - -"We'll carry you all right," said Rockwell. "We're all ready, aren't -we?" - -"I suppose so," said Norman. - -Rockwell stooped and picked him up in his arms, exerting himself only -moderately, apparently, in so doing. The Senator was light on account -of his carefully preserved slenderness, and Rockwell was really very -strong. - -"Bring his hat, Merriam," said the latter. - -Rockwell carried him through the blue dining room into the sitting room, -Merriam following with the silk hat. Both Jennie and Margery were -standing. - -Norman waved his hand limply to Jennie over Rockwell's shoulder. - -"Bye-bye, pet," he said. "I'm all in, you see. Sorry to have bothered -you like this when I wasn't fit." - -"Georgie boy!" cried Jennie. - -With a little run she came up behind Rockwell, caught Norman's hand, and -kissed it. - -"You'll let me know how you are? You'll come back?" - -"Course I will," said Norman, though he had promised Aunt Mary that -afternoon that he would "cut out" Jennie and the whole of that part of -his life to which she belonged. - -It may be that Jennie suspected something of the sort. There were tears -in her bright, soft eyes, and her cheeks were pale enough to make her -slight rouging obvious. - -"You will, won't you?" she said. "Come soon, Georgie boy!" - -Norman only smiled at her and feebly waved again. Rockwell meanwhile -was moving towards the hallway. Jennie followed closely, though Margery -tried to prevent her. - -"Let them go, Jen!" whispered Margery. - -"Shut up, Marge!" said Jennie almost fiercely. - -And then the catastrophe which Margery had been trying to forestall, and -which Rockwell had not sufficiently foreseen or else had not cared to -prevent, occurred: Jennie came face to face with Simpson in the little -hallway. She stopped short. - -"You!" she said. - -"Yes, Miss Jennie," said Simpson, looking at her steadily. "I didn't -mean you should see me. I came to help take Mr. Norman away. It was me -that discovered the plan to catch him here." - -Jennie knew from Rockwell's earlier explanation that this was true. She -tried to give Simpson what she herself would probably have called the -"once-over"--a scornful survey from head to foot. But her histrionic -purpose failed her. Her eyes fell too quickly. - -"Well, be quick about it," she said. For the first time her voice was -harsh. - -Rockwell meanwhile had carried Norman on into the outer hall--for -Simpson had already opened the door--and set him down leaning against -the banister. - -"Margery!" he called sharply. - -Margery, glad of any diversion, advanced quickly: - -"What do you want?" - -"A stepladder. Got one?" - -"Why--yes!" - -"Go with her, Simpson, and get it," Rockwell commanded. - -"Yes, Mr. Rockwell." - -"This way," said Margery, and she and Simpson passed by Jennie and -Merriam, who stood a little behind Jennie, and disappeared into the -flat. - -Jennie gave one quick look at Norman, who was leaning weakly against the -railing staring in front of him, turned away with eyes that were very -bright and a little hard, brushed past Merriam, and went back into the -sitting room and sat down. - -Almost at the same moment Simpson returned, carrying a rather tall -stepladder and followed by Margery. - -Norman came out of his apathy and stared. Simpson set the ladder up in -the center of the hall, mounted it, and climbed through the trap, which -they had left open when they descended. - -"Here. Catch!" said Rockwell. He tossed Norman's silk hat up through -the trap, and Simpson caught it. - -Then he stooped, picked Norman up again, and began to mount the ladder -with him. - -"What in hell!" said the sick man. - -Rockwell did not reply but continued to mount and then hoisted the -Senator up so that Simpson could catch him under the arms and draw him -through the trap. - -Finally he spoke to Merriam: - -"Take this ladder inside. Then you must go straight to bed. He'll be -here any time now. I'll 'phone from the hotel when we get there." - -He swung himself up on to the roof. The trap closed. - -"Well, I'll be damned!" said Margery Milton. - -Merriam did not like profanity in women, even in Margeries. - -"Very likely you will," he said. - -Margery looked at him sharply: - -"You think you're smart, don't you? Are you going to bring that ladder -in?" - - - - - *CHAPTER XIX* - - *A NEW ANTAGONIST* - - -Merriam shut the stepladder together, lifted it into an oblique -position, and carried it through the inner hallway into the sitting -room, where he stopped, not knowing where to go with it. - -Jennie was still sitting. She looked up at him. The same expression of -interest which had showed in her eyes once before returned to them. She -smiled and shifted her position, crossing her knees. But she volunteered -no information as to what he should do with the stepladder which he was -awkwardly holding. - -Meanwhile Margery had followed him into the inner hall, closed the door, -and put up the chain. She now came past him and pushed aside the -portieres into the dining room. - -"Bring it this way, please," she said, quite politely. - -He carried the ladder through the blue dining room into a kitchenette, -and thence through a door which Margery held open on to a narrow back -porch, from which he had a glimpse of a sort of orderly labyrinth of -steep wooden stairs and narrow back porches around the four sides of an -inner court. - -He returned into the kitchenette, which was almost entirely filled up -with a gas stove. Margery shut the door. - -"Go into the sitting room and talk to Jen," she said. "I want her to -forget about Simpson. I'll change the bed for you." - -"Thank you," said Merriam, who began to perceive that Miss Milton, in -spite of her profanity, had certain admirable qualities. - -He went through the dining room, hesitated for a moment before the -portieres--he could not have said why--and then pushed them open. - -Jennie had risen and was standing beside a table between the windows. -The table held a parchment-shaded lamp, a newspaper, a small camera, and -a bowl of violets. Merriam had not noticed the flowers before. He -remembered the violets worn by the floor clerk at the hotel, and -wondered whether George Norman had saved himself trouble at the -florist's by ordering two bunches from the same lot, to be sent to -different addresses. - -Jennie was looking down at the flowers. She must have been aware of his -presence. If so, she was apparently content that he should have the -benefit of a good look at her trim figure and at her face in profile, -which was its best view. She had a pretty nose; the artificially -heightened colour of her cheeks was charming in this light; and the -bright knob of her fair hair over her ear was a most alluring ornament. - -In a moment she bent gracefully down to smell the violets. As she -straightened up she turned to look at him--a serious, appraising look -that was somehow intimate. Then she smiled brightly. - -"Come in, Mr.----" (she seemed to forget his name and let it go) "and -sit down." - -She tripped across the room to the davenport and sat, indicating that he -was to sit beside her. - -Merriam wanted both to take that seat and not to take it. He took it. - -She crossed one leg over the other and looked at him, smiling. One -small, squarish, plump hand lay on her knee, ready, Merriam half -divined, to be taken if any one should desire to take it. He wondered -if it were true that she had "never had any one but George." - -"I forget your name," she said confidentially. - -"Merriam." It was not said stiffly. He was too much attracted to be -stiff. He realised that he was answering her smile. - -"What's your first name?" - -"John." - -"Then I shall call you 'John.' I don't like last names--and 'Mister' -and 'Miss.'" - -"They're stiff," he said, "playing up" alarmingly as on a former -occasion. - -She scrutinised his face, growing grave. - -"You're awfully like George," she said, "except here." - -She raised her hand, and with the tip of her forefinger touched his -chin. - -"You're sterner," she added. - -It was the very point Merriam himself had noted. He admired her -acuteness of observation. And of course he was flattered. But he -realised that he was not being particularly stern at that moment. - -"I expect I am," he said, trying to look, if not to be, more so. - -Jennie moved an inch or two farther away from him, as if a little -frightened by the iron qualities of this male. - -"Where's Margery?" she asked. - -"Here," said Margery's voice, with disconcerting patness. - -She came through the portieres and surveyed the two of them with an -ironical look that was by no means lost on Merriam. He felt ashamed of -himself. - -But Jennie gave him a quick glance with a little pout in it, as if to -say, "What a nuisance! When we were just beginning to get acquainted!" - -And straightway his shame fled and he smiled at her. - -Margery, however, was speaking in her most businesslike tones: - -"I've changed your bed, and you'd better get into it as quick as you -can. It's late now." - -"Yes," said Merriam, rising. "What time is it?" - -Before he could get out his own timepiece Jennie raised her arm and -glanced at a small gold wrist watch. - -"Oh! Five minutes after ten!" she cried. She rose too. "You must -hurry." - -"Yes," said Merriam. - -He moved to the portieres--hesitated. He did not know how to take leave -under these novel circumstances. - -"Good night, ladies," he ventured in rather ceremonious tones. - -To his chagrin both girls burst out laughing. - -"Good night, gentleman!" Jennie called merrily after him, and their -renewed giggling pursued him as, in painful confusion, he crossed to the -door of the bedroom. - -He shut that door behind him and rapidly undressed, stimulated to speed -in his operations by a vigorous mental kicking of himself as an ass and -a "boob." A suit of pajamas, apparently quite new; was laid out on a -chair. He got into these and slipped into bed. - -The moment he was recumbent he realised that he had forgotten to turn -out his light. No matter. He had no idea of sleeping. Besides Thompson -would be there any minute. - -Ah, Thompson! With relief his mind seized upon this topic. It was -sufficiently absorbing. Any minute now Thompson would burst in, -demanding Senator Norman. He, Merriam, would pretend he had never seen -Thompson before, never even heard of him. "My name is not Norman," he -would say. "My name is Merriam. Who are you? And what do you want?" -Thompson would stare, falter, begin to apologise and explain. It was -pleasingly dramatic. He pursued the interview. His own conduct therein -displayed the quintessence of composure and _savoir faire_. Jennie and -Margery--yes, both of them were present--would be impressed; they would -laugh at him no longer. Thompson was sacrificed mercilessly. - -But the minutes passed and nothing happened. There was no sign of the -real Thompson. What was wrong? The silence of the small, lighted -bedroom began to get on Merriam's excited nerves. Had Thompson somehow, -in spite of Rockwell's elaborate precautions, got wind of the real -situation, discovered their trick before it was played? Had he remained -at the hotel, seen the real Norman return, and perceived the whole -imposition? - -A light knock sounded on his door. Merriam jumped and then lay still. - -"Can I come in?" - -It was Jennie's voice. - -"Yes," he said, embarrassed; but what other reply could be made? - -Jennie opened the door and came to his bedside. She had changed her -attire completely. She now wore the costume of a _ballerina_--a tight -pink corsage, very low and sleeveless, with the slightest of pink loops -over her shoulders, a short, fluffy pink skirt barely to her knees, pink -tights, and pink dancing slippers. Over one of the bright knobs of her -hair was a pink rose. She was much more brilliantly rouged than before, -and he was conscious of a warm scent of powder and perfume. - -Merriam lay staring at her without speaking, subconsciously shocked -perhaps, but openly bewildered and fascinated. - -She smiled at him and seemed to be inspecting him in return. Her left -hand hung at her side, holding something heavy, but she put out her -right and touched his hair--with a single little movement ruffled it. - -"You look very nice lying there," she said in the most natural tones in -the world. "How do I look?" - -She stepped back and pirouetted, turning completely around on her toes. -The fluffy pink skirts swung out and circled with her in a most -entrancing manner. Merriam was quite dazzled. The white gleam of her -back as she turned, the slender white arms, held gracefully away from -her sides, in spite of that heavy something in one hand, the tight -slimness of the waist, the glimpse of pink legs beneath the circling -skirt--he had seen the like only on the stage. It was rather -overpowering so close at hand. - -But in a single rosy moment her revolution was completed. She was -facing him again and relaxing down off her toes. - -"How do I look?" she repeated, smiling, with the slightest natural -augmentation of her artificial flush. - -Merriam swallowed. "Stunning!" he ejaculated. - -She beamed. "Of course I do," she said. - -Then her face seemed to harden. She stepped closer to the bed so that -she was almost bending over him. - -"I've got a part to play," she said. "Well, I'm going to play it." -There was a touch of something like defiance in her voice now. "I've -cooked up a plot for Mister Thompson. Marge don't like it, but she'll -help. I'll show him! You've got to help too." - -She raised her left hand, displaying the heavy object held therein, -which he had not yet identified. He was somewhat startled to see that it -was a small revolver. - -"Take it," she said. - -As he did not instantly put out his arm she tossed it across so that it -fell on the bed on the other side of him. - -"It's loaded," she said, "with blanks. Mister Thompson shall see you -first. But afterwards Marge and I will see what we can do with him. -We'll get him to stay for a little supper, and I'm going to play up to -him. I'll do a dance on the table. But when he tries to catch me I'll -scream. That's where you come in. You rush out with your revolver and -drive him out of the house. Won't it be fun?" she demanded, glowing with -excitement. "We'll have the goods on him. He'll keep his face shut -after that. Whatever he knows or thinks about George! We'll have a -fine story for Mrs. Thompson, if he don't. Oh!" - -A doorbell had rung loudly in the kitchenette. - -"There he is now. Remember! When I scream!" - -She was gone from the bedroom, closing the door behind her. - -Merriam lay as if dazed. This "high life" was proving almost too fast -for his bucolic and pedagogical wits. He jumped when the bell rang -again more violently. Then he heard the sound of the hall door being -opened and a loud masculine voice. Was it Thompson's? A moment or two -later the voice became more distinct, and he could hear the girls' -voices too. He could not be sure it was Thompson. Was it some one of -his "henchmen" instead? Whoever he was, he was in the sitting room. In -a moment or two he would almost certainly be coming out to the bedroom. - -Merriam suddenly remembered the revolver and reached for it and slipped -it under the bedclothes. He had several minutes more to wait. The -voices became lower. Then they were raised again. Suddenly he heard the -rings of the portieres clash--the curtains had been sharply flung aside. -Margery's thin voice came to him. - -"See for yourself, then!" it said. - -"That's better," said the masculine voice in tones half amused, half -irritated. Was it Thompson? - -Light footsteps and heavy footsteps crossed the dining room together. -The bedroom door was opened. - -"Sir," said Margery to Merriam, in tones a little shrill with -excitement, "this is a Mr. Crockett. He has some crazy notion about your -being Senator Norman. See for yourself, Mr.--Crockett!" She spoke his -name as though it were an insult. "Remember, he's sick," she added -warningly. Margery was not a bad actress. - -Crockett! Crockett himself! So much the better! With an effort -Merriam steadied his nerves. Mr. Crockett advanced to the bedside--a -tall, imposing gentleman in evening clothes with keen blue eyes and a -thin remnant of lightish hair. - -"Well, George," he said blandly, "glad to see you. Your little friends -are very loyal. But they couldn't keep me away from you." - -Merriam instantly disliked Mr. Crockett. He plunged with zest into his -part. - -"George?" he inquired coldly. "My name's not George!" - -"Oh, come, come, Norman! You're caught. Fess up." - -But he looked closer. At the same moment Margery lifted a silk shade -off the electric bulb by the bureau, and the cold hard light fell full -on the younger man's face. - -"Who do you think I am?" said Merriam. "And who are you?" he added in -an insolent tone. - -The impressive financier stared. He bent down and stared harder. - -"Well?" Merriam demanded with all the hauteur he could muster. And -then: "Got an eye-ful?" - -He had preconceived this colloquy in much more dignified phrases, but -the insulting tag of boyish slang popped out of him unawares. However, -he could not have done better. Probably he could never, by taking -thought, have done as well. Senator Norman would assuredly not have used -that expression; it had been coined long since his day in Boyville. - -Mr. Crockett was convinced. But he was a gentleman of considerable -imperturbability. He merely straightened up and asked: - -"Who are you?" - -The younger man suddenly decided not to give his name. There was that -in Mr. Crockett's blue eyes that suggested an uncomfortable pertinacity -and ruthlessness in following up any clue he might get hold of. - -"What business is that of yours?" said Merriam. - -Mr. Crockett blinked. He was doubtless unaccustomed to such replies. -But he merely asked another question: - -"Where are you from?" - -"Down State," said Merriam. That was both insolent and safe: Illinois -is tolerably sizable. - -"How old are you?" - -Merriam saw an advantage in answering this query truthfully. - -"Twenty-eight," he said. "What of it?" - -"You don't happen to be a young nephew or cousin of Senator Norman's, do -you?" asked Mr. Crockett, hitting the bull's-eye with his first arrow. - -Merriam, somewhat startled, countered with a flat denial: - -"No, I'm not. I've been told I look like him," he added. "Somebody -took me for him last night. But I'm only related to him through Adam and -Eve--so far as I know." - -Mr. Crockett scanned him narrowly: - -"Somebody took you for Norman last night?" - -"They sure did." Having struck the slangy note by accident, Merriam was -enough of an actor to keep it up. - -"I should be much obliged if you will tell me about that." - -Merriam's self-confidence returned. He had been realising how little -this dialogue was developing in accordance with his pleasing -anticipations. Instead of the role of a polished man of the world, -delivering brilliant thrusts of irony and reducing his interlocutor to -apologetic confusion, he had stumbled inadvertently on that of a slangy -youth, submitting to be catechised by an individual who remained -singularly composed and had proved dangerously shrewd. But at last he -had led up adroitly enough to the story which Rockwell had charged him -to tell. He set himself to tell it in character: - -"Well, if you want to know, I came up to the City on -business--yesterday. When I got my work done I thought I'd have a -little fun--see the sights, you know. I don't know this town much, but -I got hold of a taxi man who took me around. I looked in at several -places. I guess I had a pretty good time. I don't remember much. I -had more highballs than I'm used to. We ended up at a dance hall -somewhere. There were some pretty girls there. Somebody said, 'You're -Senator Norman, aren't you?' That struck me as funny. 'Sure, I am,' I -said, and I kept it up. Soon everybody in the place was calling me -'Senator.' I treated the gang. Then I got into a fight. I don't -remember how. Somebody knocked me down, I think. But I wasn't hurt -any. After that I picked up this little girl that lives here--the one -in pink,--and she brought me home with her. I had a bad head on this -morning and a bad cold besides. The little girl is a good sport. She -let me stay here all day. I'm going down home in the morning." - -"I see," said Mr. Crockett slowly. - -Merriam had need of all his self-command to conceal his elation as he -perceived that his formidable antagonist had swallowed bait, hook, and -sinker, as the idiom goes. He was obviously piecing Merriam's narrative -together in his mind with the _Tidbits_ story about Norman. Margery, -who had remained standing unobtrusive and silent by the bureau, flashed -Merriam a commendatory glance. - -Stimulated thereby, he pertly followed up his advantage: - -"Care for any more of my personal memoirs?" - -"No, thank you," said Mr. Crockett with a rather sour smile. "Good -night, Mr.--Mr.----" - -He was angling for the name again, but with a feebleness unworthy of a -great financier. - -"Mr. Blank," said Merriam. "I've a bit of a reputation to keep up in my -own home town." - -"I see," said Mr. Crockett again. "Well, I'm sorry to have intruded. -Take care of your reputation!" - -He turned away towards the door. - -In that open door Jennie had stood listening. Now her cue had come. She -took it promptly. She advanced into the bedroom, stepping lightly on her -toes, her pink skirt waving prettily. She smiled her brightest smile at -Mr. Crockett. - -"He isn't Senator Norman, is he?" she cried gaily. - -"He certainly isn't," said Mr. Crockett, looking at her. No man could -have helped looking at her. - -"You were awfully rude about it," said Jennie, pouting. She had stopped -about two feet in front of him. - -"Was I?" - -"I should say you were. Awfully! You ought to do something to make up -for it." - -"What ought I to do?" asked Mr. Crockett. - -"You might stay for a little supper with Margery and me." - -"Might I?" - -Unexpectedly Mr. Crockett looked away from Jennie. He looked at -Merriam, thoughtfully--a disconcerting thoughtfulness. Then he turned -back to Jennie. - -"Perhaps I might," he said, with a faint smile. - -Merriam read his mind. He was sure he did. The man might or might not -be slightly attracted by Jennie's prettiness, but what he was thinking -was that he would be able to get more out of her than he had been able -to get from Merriam. The latter at once perceived that Jennie's -melodramatic scheme was dangerous and silly. It might have been all -right with Thompson, but not with this man. She hadn't sense enough to -see the difference. But he could do nothing to stop her. - -Already she had cried, "Oh, goody!" like a little girl. - -She stepped past Mr. Crockett, brushing him with her skirts, put her -hands on his shoulders and began playfully to push him towards the -dining room. - -"It's all ready," she was saying. "We got it for the man inside, but he -says he isn't hungry. We have sandwiches and olives and cheese and -beer--and there's whiskey, if you like." - -"I'll take beer," said Mr. Crockett, mustering a certain lightness and -allowing himself to be pushed. - -Merriam looked at Margery, still standing by the bureau. She too had -changed her costume. She now wore an evening dress of black and gold, -in which she looked very well, rather brilliant, in fact. But what -Merriam noticed was the understanding look in her eyes. She had read -Mr. Crockett's purpose as clearly as he had. - -"We'll be careful," she said. "You did fine. Shall I turn out the -light?" - -"No," said Merriam. "Leave it, please." - -She walked out of the room and closed the door. - - - - - *CHAPTER XX* - - *AN EVENTFUL SUPPER PARTY* - - -Though Margery had closed the door Merriam could hear practically -everything that went on in the adjoining room--as one commonly can in an -apartment. - -"Get the food from the ice chest, will you, Marge?" cried Jennie, in -tones whose gaiety sounded genuine. "I'll set out the drinks. Let's -have a cocktail to start with, Mr.----" - -She interrupted herself: - -"What's your first name?" - -"Well," said Crockett, "one of my first names is Henry." - -"Then I'll call you 'Harry.' I hate last names--and 'Mister' and -'Miss'!" - -Merriam in his recumbent solitude made a cynically humorous grimace. -She had used those very words with him--had begun the same way. Her -regular formula doubtless. - -"I'm 'Jennie,' you know," she continued. "Now, what kind of cocktail?" - -"I'll stick to beer, please." - -"But I want to start with a cocktail! Have one with me! Please!" - -The tone was that of a teasing child. In his mind's eye Merriam could -see vividly the trim pink figure (as it had pirouetted before him) and -the pretty pouting face. But Crockett was apparently unmoved. - -"Bye and bye," he said suavely. "Go ahead with your cocktail. We don't -all have to drink the same things, do we? I'll start with beer and work -up to cocktails." - -"Well, then," said Jennie, with a swift return to unpetulant gaiety, -"Marge is bringing your old beer. Oh, goody! See! Cheese sandwiches -and chicken sandwiches and lettuce-and-mayonnaise sandwiches!" - -Evidently Margery had returned well laden from the ice chest. - -"Which kind will you have, Harry?" - -"Cheese, thank you," said "Harry." - -"There! With my own fingers!" - -Jennie spoke with some confidence that the touch of her fingers would -render bread and cheese ambrosial. - -"Thank you," said "Harry" again, with the barest nuance of dryness in -his tone. "I'll open the beer. What will you drink, Miss Milton?" - -Undoubtedly he was snubbing Jennie! Those blue eyes of his might -perhaps be attentive enough to white arms and tight waists and pink legs -when he himself had sought them out, but they were not to be distracted -by any such frivolous phenomena when serious business was afoot. Jennie -would fail! Merriam was sure of it. - -But at any rate she was not easily snubbed. - -"Her name's Margery," she cried, consistent in her antipathy to -surnames. - -"Well, Margery?" said Crockett, complaisantly. - -"Beer," said Margery. - -It was the first word Merriam had heard her speak. Her taciturnity -comforted him. Jennie was a little fool, but Margery would keep her -head. They would waste their time and their sandwiches and beer on -Crockett, but perhaps she would foil any inquiries he might presently -attempt. - -"Don't set things in the middle of the table, Marge," cried. Jennie. -"Set 'em around the edge. I'm going to do a dance for you, Harry. -Wouldn't you like to see me dancing on the table?" - -"It would be very charming," said "Harry." But the tone was merely -gallant; it betokened no quickening of pulse. - -"I must have a sandwich first, though," said Jennie quickly. Even she -perceived that she was not making progress. - -There followed eating and drinking, accompanied by a patter of gay, -disconnected sallies from Jennie, relating chiefly to the eatables and -drinkables. "Harry," continually appealed to by that name, remained -calmly polite. Margery, when addressed, responded in monosyllables. -Ripe olives and cold tongue and mustard were produced. Jennie had her -cocktail, and then another. She needed stimulant, poor girl, to keep up -the gay vivacity which was meeting with so little encouragement. A -second bottle of beer was opened for "Harry" and Margery. - -Meanwhile Merriam, still listening, was engaged also in active -cogitation. He saw well enough into Crockett's thought. The latter had -been momentarily convinced by his, Merriam's, well-told tale. (Margery -had said he had "done fine.") But the keen, realistic mind behind those -blue eyes had almost immediately rebounded and seized upon the -overwhelming inherent improbability of that yarn. That there should be a -man without close relationship to Norman who resembled him so strongly -was in itself decidedly remarkable. That this man should encounter -Norman's mistress, by pure chance, at a public dance and go home with -her was even more curious. And that all this should happen, merely -fortuitously, on the very night on which Senator Norman had -unaccountably broken, before nine o'clock, solemn promises given with -every appearance of sincerity and willingness shortly before eight, and -suddenly gone over to a party for which throughout a score of years he -had expressed nothing but dislike and contempt--the mathematical chances -against such a series of coincidences were simply incalculable. - -It was a quick, clear perception of this abstract, apriori incredibility -that Merriam had read in Crockett's final glance before Jennie playfully -pushed him out of the bedroom. Doubtless he was still revolving it in -his mind as he sat at Jennie's table, responding with merely mechanical -politeness to her rather pitiful attempts to pique his interest and -desire. Well, let him revolve it. The story all hung together. What -could he make of it? Little enough, probably, with the data he had now. -But that was why he was lingering here at Jennie's--in the hope of -getting more data. After another cocktail or two Jennie would not know -what she was saying. Then he would begin to hint, to ask questions. -Could Margery keep her quiet? A single word might give him a clue. - -Merriam became conscious of a wish that Rockwell were at hand to help. -But that wish instantly gave birth to further fears. Rockwell had said -he would telephone from the hotel as soon as they arrived. That message -might come any minute now--with Crockett there! Whereabouts in the flat -was the telephone? He had not noticed it anywhere. He looked about the -bedroom. But it was not there, of course. - -Ought not that message to have come already? Surely they should be at -the hotel by now unless something had gone wrong. He suddenly envisaged -all the perils of discovery, which he had hitherto been too much -occupied to realise, involved in the transportation of the sick Senator -across the roof--down through the other trapdoor into the other -hall--down three flights of stairs--along two blocks of city street to -the taxi. They might so easily have been noted by some of Thompson's, -or Crockett's, watchers, and followed to the hotel. Then they would be -caught indeed--in the very fact. Verily, the paths of the impostor are -perilous! - -Then Merriam's mind was brought sharply back from these alarming -excursions to his own scarcely less dangerous situation. Crockett had -for the first time volunteered a remark. It was just such a remark as -Merriam had anticipated. - -"Nice boy you have in there." - -His voice was slightly lowered but only slightly. Perhaps he did not -realise the perfection of the acoustic properties of flats. - -"Very nice boy!" agreed Jennie cordially. - -Merriam noticed with alarm just the faintest touch of the effect of -cocktails in her accent. How many had the girl had by now? - -"So you met him at Reiberg's, did you?" Crockett pursued. - -"Reiberg's?" said Jennie doubtfully, "Reiberg's?" - -"Yes," Margery cut in. "Picked him up there and brought him home. I -call it a shame. Jen's never done that sort of thing before." - -"I expect you took to him because he looks so much like Senator Norman," -suggested Crockett, rather skillfully persistent. - -"Yes," said Jennie, "looks very like George. But he's _not_ George. -He's John!" - -"John what?" asked Crockett mildly. - -"John Blank!" said Margery sharply. "He told you he didn't want to give -his name. Jen, keep your face shut!" - -"I beg your pardon, I'm sure," said Crockett. - -"Have a cocktail now!" said Jennie, quite unabashed. - -Crockett at last agreed to a cocktail, and it was fixed for him, and the -conversation, if such it could be called, again concerned itself with -incidents to the consumption of food and drink. - -Thank God for Margery! She had won the first trick. But Crockett would -try again. And Jennie would grow more and more difficult to handle. -Aside from the danger, Merriam hated to think of Jennie's getting really -drunk. Could not Margery get rid of the man? The trouble was he had -stayed at Jennie's invitation. Could not he, Merriam, do something? - -He felt under the bedclothes until he found the revolver. He drew it -out and looked at it. But of what use was it, really? Would Crockett -blench at the mere pointing of a pistol? He doubted it. It was loaded -only with blanks, Jennie had said. And he dared not fire it anyway. The -occupants of a dozen adjoining flats would hear the report. People would -come bursting in. The police would be called. Well, was not that the -solution? To have Crockett caught in that flat by the police in -connection with a shooting? Perhaps, but not a nice one for himself. -Not to be tried except as the very last resort. Besides, would it serve -their purpose? A public exposure of Crockett would do no good. What -they needed was a threat of possible exposure to hold over him--not the -exposure itself. - -If only Jennie could succeed in her purpose of enticing him into some -display of amorousness, of which he and Margery might be witnesses. It -would be pleasant to "have the goods on him," to use Jennie's phrase. -Why did she not dance for him? But Crockett would not be enticed. He -might, however, pretend to be. He might decide to "play up" in that way -if through Margery's watchfulness he could get nothing out of Jennie -without doing so. - -But now there flashed into Merriam's mind a doubt of the efficacy of -Jennie's scheme even if they should succeed in carrying it out. Suppose -Crockett should catch hold of her after her dance and try to kiss her, -and she should scream, and he should rush out with his revolver, and -Crockett should be intimidated thereby into ignominious exit? That -would be very good fun, but would it give them any hold over him in case -of need? He could deny it. Against his word the only witnesses would be -Jennie and Margery, whose testimony would not be taken very seriously, -and himself--a nobody and an impostor. No wonder Margery, the -clear-headed, had disapproved. They ought to get more tangible -evidence--something in writing or a photograph. - -He suddenly remembered the camera on the table in the living room, and -recalled also a certain college episode, a rather lurid incident of his -fraternity days, in which a camera and a girl and a priggish freshman -had figured. It suggested to him a decidedly picturesque and -venturesome procedure against Crockett. But he shook his head. It was -too violent, too rough. All very well for a parcel of boys with a -freshman. But with Mr. Crockett, the mighty capitalist! No! Hardly! - -Just then he heard Jennie say: - -"Get your mandolin, Marge. I'm going to dance now." - -"Fine!" said Crockett. But he was still cool, amused. - -Margery made no reply, but she evidently complied. In a moment there -came a preliminary strumming on the mandolin. - -"Help me up, Harry," said Jennie. - -"With pleasure," said "Harry." - -He was helping her to mount on to the table. - -"Move that siphon off," Jennie said. "I might kick it over." - -There was gay excitement in her voice. Cocktails had made her -indifferent to appreciation. As for Merriam, the conscience of a -realist compels me to report a sense of disappointment: he wanted to see -the dance. - -"Now sit down again," cried Jennie. "You can see better." - -At this frankness Crockett laughed. There was the sound of his dropping -into a chair. - -"Now, Marge!" Jennie commanded. - -But Margery did not strike into her tune and the dance did not begin, -for at that instant the telephone rang. - -It was in the dining room, then! - -There was a quick movement of chairs and feet. Then Crockett's voice -said, "Hello!" - -He was answering it! - -"That's not fair!" cried Margery. "It's not for you!" - -"Keep off!" said Crockett in a quick, stern whisper, and then, evidently -into the telephone, "Yes! Yes!" - -Merriam leapt out of bed, revolver in hand, in his pajamas and flung -open the door. - -Crockett was standing by the wall at the telephone. Jennie, in her -ballet costume, stood transfixed in the center of the table. Margery -was rushing at Crockett. - -"You--you spy!" she screamed. - -Merriam, in the door, pointed his revolver. - -"Drop it!" he cried, meaning the telephone receiver. "Hands up!" - -But Crockett, catching Margery by the shoulder with his free hand, held -her powerfully at arm's length and only smiled at Merriam's revolver. - -"Why?" he asked into the telephone, and added quickly, "Nothing! These -girls are romping so!" - -But his words could hardly be heard for Margery's screaming. He dropped -the receiver and put the hand thus freed over the mouthpiece. - -"Shut up!" he said fiercely to Margery, and gave her shoulder a violent -wrench. - -"O--oh!" she groaned. - -Something had to be done instantly, for Crockett was turning back to the -telephone. With a sort of impulsive desperation Merriam threw the -revolver at Crockett's head. The man dodged, and the revolver struck -the opposite wall and fell to the floor. But the movement took him away -from the telephone, and Merriam, rushing forward, added the impetus of a -straight-arm thrust, which sent him staggering against the table. - -Then Merriam caught up the receiver. - -"Hello! Hello!" he cried into the mouthpiece. - -For an instant no reply. Then Central's voice said sweetly: - -"Your party's hung up." And added, in tones of unwonted interest: -"What's the row there? Shall I send the police?" - -"No, no!" said Merriam. "There's nothing wrong here." - -He hung up and turned to face the room. - -Crockett was still leaning against the table. Margery was clutching the -arm which a moment before had gripped her, and Jennie had jumped down -from the table and caught hold of his other arm. But the financier -appeared very little ruffled. He even smiled at Merriam, not -unpleasantly. - -"Well, Mr. Merriam," he said, "suppose we sit down and talk it over--if -these ladies will release me, that is." - -"Mr. Merriam!" Then the message _had_ been from Rockwell, and Crockett -had got the name after all. How much more had he learned? Merriam was -quite willing to talk in the hope of finding that out. - -"Very well," he said. "Let him go, Margery,--Jennie." - -"I'll dance for both of you!" cried Jennie, whose cheeks were decidedly -flushed. - -"No!" said Merriam. "Sit down, please." - -"Sit down, Jen!" seconded Margery, viciously. - -"Oh, well!" Jennie plopped petulantly into a chair. - -The others sat, Merriam and Crockett across from each other. The -financier looked steadily at the younger man. - -"Miss Milton was right," he began quietly. "The message was not for me. -It was for you, Mr. Merriam. I think I ought to give it to you." - -"If you please," said Merriam. - -"It was that you should 'come at once to the hotel.'" - -Merriam managed not to blink. - -"What hotel?" he asked. - -For an instant Crockett weighed his answer. Then: - -"The De Soto," he said. - -But Merriam had read the meaning of the momentary pause: Rockwell had -not named the hotel--he wouldn't, of course--Crockett was guessing. - -"De Soto?" he asked, looking as puzzled as he could. "I thought it -might be from the Nestor House." (He was using the first name that -popped into his head.) - -"Oh," said Crockett lightly, "Mr. Rockwell would be much more likely to -telephone from the De Soto." - -Merriam was startled, but he could only go on as he had begun. - -"Rockwell?" he echoed, as if still further mystified. - -"Come, come," said Crockett, "I recognised his voice. I know it -perfectly." - -"No friend of mine," Merriam persisted. There might be no advantage in -continued denial, but certainly there could be none in admission. - -"Really, Mr. Merriam, hadn't you better tell me the whole story? You'll -not find me ungenerous. I'll let you down easy." - -"The whole story?" said Merriam. "Thought I told you my whole story in -the bedroom a while back. What more do you want?" - -Crockett shrugged his shoulders. He smiled blandly: - -"What I want is another cocktail, I guess. You'll join me, Mr. Merriam? -You've had nothing all evening. It must have been dull for you, lying -in there, while these pretty ladies have been entertaining me so -charmingly. I understood you were sick, you know," he added slyly, "or -I should have insisted on your coming out long ago." Then, quickly, so -as to give Merriam no chance to reply: "Jennie, my dear, let's have your -pretty dance now. We were interrupted." - -"No," said Jennie, rather sleepily, "I'm tired." - -"Have a cocktail," said Crockett promptly. "Then you'll be all right -again." - -Jennie looked up with interest. "Well," she said. - -Crockett rose to mix the drinks. - -"You'll have one, too, Mr. Merriam?" - -But during the brief interchange between Crockett and Jennie, Merriam -had been doing some quick thinking--wild thinking, perhaps. The plan -suggested by his college memory, which before he had rejected as too -violent, his mind now seized upon and was eagerly shaping to the present -situation. - -When Crockett addressed him, he rose. - -"No," he said. "I'm tired too. I _am_ sick." He simulated a slight -dizziness. "I'll go lie down again. If you'll excuse me." - -He moved to the bedroom door, affecting uncertainty in his steps. As he -passed into the bedroom he called: "Margery!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XXI* - - *FLASH LIGHTS* - - -In a moment Margery had followed him. - -"Shut the door." He barely formed the words with his lips. - -She obeyed. - -"That camera--in the sitting room," he whispered. "Can you take a flash -light with it?" - -"Sure," came the whispered answer. "That's what we use it for." - -"Have you any rope?" - -"Rope?" echoed Margery's whisper. "There's a clothesline on the back -porch." - -"Bring it to me!" - -Margery looked at him. But a high degree of mutual confidence had been -established between these two. She nodded. - -"Right away?" - -"Yes. _He_ mustn't see it." - -"No." - -She opened the door and closed it behind her. Merriam sat on the edge of -the bed, thinking hard. - -"He wants a drink of water," he heard her say to the others in the -dining room. - -With one ear, so to speak--that is to say, with so much of his mind as -could attend to one ear,--he listened to Crockett and Jennie, engaged -still in the business of mixing drinks. With the rest of his mind he -was making plans, with a rapidity and confident daring that astonished -himself. - -In a moment Margery had returned. In her right hand she carried a glass -of water. Her left hand, hanging at her side, seemed to hold carelessly -only a newspaper, folded in two. But as soon as she had closed the door -she produced from between the folds a fairly stout clothesline, loosely -coiled. - -Merriam tried its toughness and surveyed its length. - -"All right," he whispered. "Now go back. Drink with them. Jennie must -dance. And have Crockett sit where he was before." - -This was at the end of the table nearest the telephone and nearest also -to Merriam's door. - -Again Margery looked at him. She glanced at the rope. But she asked no -questions. Without a word she went out and closed the door behind her. -Admirable girl! - -Merriam's next actions were rather remarkable. He felt hastily in the -pockets of his trousers, which lay over a chair, and produced a -penknife. With this instrument he cut off four pieces of rope, each -about four feet long. This left about ten feet in the main piece. With -this main piece he proceeded to manufacture a slip noose, carefully -testing both the strength of the slipknot and the readiness of its -slipping. Then he gathered the noose and the four other pieces of rope -into his left hand and rose and stood before the door, drawing a deep -breath and listening. - -He had, of course, kept track more or less of the happenings in the -other room. Margery, on returning, had demanded another glass of beer -and had yielded to insistence that she have a cocktail instead. Then -she had suggested that Jennie dance. Jennie had already been assisted -on to the table again, and Margery was picking tentatively at her -mandolin. - -"R-ready!" cried Jennie, a little unsteadily. - -Merriam stepped back and turned the button of his electric bulb, so as -to have no light behind him. - -Then, as Margery struck into a bright quick tune, he softly opened the -door with his right hand, holding his left hand with the ropes behind -him, and stood looking at Jennie, whose pink toes had begun to patter -merrily on the polished table. - -Jennie saw him and laughed to him, her eyes and her cheeks bright. - -"Come in, Johnny," she cried, and for a second one pink leg pointed -straight at him as she turned. - -"Couldn't resist, eh?" chuckled Crockett, who was leaning back in the -heavy chair Merriam had wished him to occupy. He was apparently really -pleased for the first time. "Don't blame you," he added. "Come on in." - -His eyes, quite unsuspicious, returned to the circling skirts and the -flushed face bobbing above them. - -This was Merriam's moment. - -He stepped quickly behind Crockett's chair, dropped the short pieces of -rope on the floor, raised the noose with both hands, slipped it over the -man's head, and pulled it suddenly tight about his neck. - -Crockett emitted a strangled oath and started to rise, but Merriam with -one hand on his shoulder thrust him down again, and with the other -tightened the noose about his throat. - -"Sit still," he threatened, "or I'll choke you!" - -Margery's tune had stopped abruptly, and Jennie stood still on the -table, staring down in frightened bewilderment. - -"Margery!" Merriam commanded, "take one of these pieces of rope and tie -his arm to the arm of the chair." - -The arm referred to was immediately raised away from the chair, but the -noose tightened with a further jerk, and the arm fell limply back. In -fact Crockett was gasping and choking so desperately that Merriam was -compelled to loosen the rope a little. - -"Take it quietly," he cautioned, with perhaps a trifle more of youthful -ferocity and exultation than the romantic hero should exhibit, "or I'll -hang you sitting down!" - -Margery, obedient as usual, had stepped quickly forward, picked up a -piece of rope, and begun to bind the arm nearest her to the chair. - -Crockett, somewhat eased, though still gasping a little, turned his head -to look at Merriam. His first involuntary startled alarm was passing. -The blue eyes looked steadily at the young man. A trace of their -earlier cool amusement returned. He looked away again and sat perfectly -still, acquiescent. - -Merriam, however, remained warily at his post in charge of the slip -noose while Margery tied both arms. - -"Now tie his feet to the legs of the chair," said Merriam. "Jennie, you -can help. Jump down and tie his right foot while Margery ties the -left." - -But Jennie, still on the table, shook her pretty head. - -"I'd rather dance," she said, and regardless of the lack of music she -folded her arms and began to do the steps of the Highland Fling. - -"Let her alone," said Margery, who had gone down on her knees and was at -work on the left foot. - -Jennie tossed her head and quickened the tempo of her dance, keeping her -eyes on Crockett, who, though still swallowing with difficulty, affected -to regard her with interest. - -Margery crossed to Crockett's other side and knelt again. In a moment -she completed her labours and rose, her cheeks a little reddened by her -posture and vigorous work. - -"There!" she said, looking straight at Merriam, as if she were a soldier -reporting to his officer. - -"Thank you very much," said the young man. - -He loosened the noose, leaving it still in place, however, about -Crockett's neck. Then he stepped to the side of the table and held out -his arms to Jennie. - -"Come!" he said, "I'll lift you down." - -She stood still. "You don't like my dancing," she pouted. "_He_ likes -it!" She pointed at Crockett, who, twisting his eased neck about, -smiled. - -"I'll like lifting you down," said Merriam. - -Jennie smiled and approached the edge of the table. For a moment he -held a rosy, fragrant burden in his arms, and in that moment Jennie -raised her face to his as if to be kissed. She was really rather -incorrigible. - -On a different occasion the young man might have been irresistibly -tempted (he had not thought of Mollie June for a long time), but just -now he was no more in a mood to be enticed than Crockett had been an -hour before. - -He set her lightly and quickly on her feet. - -"There!" he said. - -She made a face at him and dropped petulantly into a chair. - -Merriam turned to face his well-trussed victim. - -The said victim was now sufficiently at ease to open the conversation. - -"Well, Mr. Merriam," he said, "you've managed it rather cleverly. Very -neat, in fact. You have me a prisoner all right. But what's the big -idea? It seems to me you've only given yourself away. Before I only knew -your name and that you were in connection with Rockwell and that your -presence was desired at some hotel--the Nestor House, we'll say, to -avoid argument, Now it's very clear that you are deeply implicated in -the extraordinary events that have been happening. Otherwise you would -have had no sufficient motive for this rather violent, not to say -melodramatic, line of conduct." He glanced, with a smile, at his -pinioned arms. - -This point of view, however, had already occurred to Merriam; and the -answer was that Crockett, knowing already of a direct, confidential -connection between Senator Norman's double and Senator Norman's new -manager, would in a few hours at most be able to work out the whole -truth of the situation. - -So he only answered his victim's smile with another smile equally -good-humoured. - -"I don't think I've given away anything much," he said. "And I felt it -was time to take out a bit of insurance." - -"Insurance?" repeated Crockett. - -"Yes. Insurance that you will treat me with that generosity which you -half promised a while ago." - -"I promised nothing!" said Crockett, the smile fading out of his eyes. -"I refuse to give any promise whatever." - -"That's all right," said Merriam, still good-humouredly. "In fact, I -shouldn't count much on promises anyway. - -"You're married, I believe?" he continued to Crockett. - -Crockett did not reply. - -"And a church member, I presume? And a member of a number of highly -respectable clubs?" - -He paused and waited, smiling. - -The smile was too much for Crockett. After a moment of holding in, he -said sharply: - -"Well?" - -"Well, a gentleman who is all those things ought to be careful how he -accepts entertainment from unattached young ladies, like our pretty -Jennie here--in their flats at midnight." And then to Margery, "Go and -get your camera ready. - -"When I was in college," Merriam continued, "the fraternity I belonged -to initiated a freshman who turned out to be goody-goody. He wouldn't -play cards, wouldn't dance, wouldn't go to the theater, wouldn't smoke. -Even refused coffee and tea. Above all he simply wouldn't look at a -girl. All he would do was study and go to class--and to church and -Sunday School. To make it worse he was a handsome cuss with loads of -money and his own motor car. He got on the fellows' nerves. Then a show -came to town with a girl in the chorus that two of the fellows knew. So -a bunch of us went to the show, and afterwards the two fellows who knew -the girl brought her back to the chapter house in a taxi, with an opera -cloak over the black tights which she wore in the last act. We gave her -a little supper, and then four of us went upstairs to get the good -little boy. He hadn't gone to the show. He was studying his -trigonometry. We didn't have to lasso him, of course, because there -were four of us. When we brought him into the dining room, the girl -stood up and dropped off her cloak. It was worth something to see his -face. Then we tied him into a chair, just the same way you're tied now. -We set a beer bottle and half-emptied glass handy, and the girl sat on -his knees and cocked one black leg over the arm of the chair and put one -hand under his chin and put her lips to his cheek. And then we took the -flash." - -"Oh, goody!" cried Jennie, ecstatically pleased by this climax. But -Crockett by this time was staring at the story-teller with really -venomous eyes. - -Merriam avoided those eyes and addressed himself to Jennie, the -appreciative. - -"That was all," he said. "We gave the girl a twenty-dollar bill and the -roses and sent her back to the hotel in the taxi. We could only show -the picture to a few chaps, of course. One of the fellows did finally -tell the story to one girl whom a lot of us knew and showed her the -picture. It worked fine. The good little boy's reputation was made, -and he had to live up to it, to the extent at least of becoming human. -He became one of the finest fellows we ever had. The year after he -graduated," Merriam finished reflectively, "he married the one girl who -had seen the picture, and the chapter gave it to her with their wedding -present." - -During this sequel Margery had returned with the camera and with some -flash-light powder, for which she had had to search, in a dust pan. - -"Damn you!" cried the great financier virulently, straining helplessly -at the ropes which confined his arms and legs. "If you think it will do -you any good to take an indecent picture of me----" - -"Cut that!" said Merriam sharply. "Do you want me to tighten that noose -again?" - -Crockett subsided with a snort that might have made whole boards of -directors tremble. - -"Indecent!" said Merriam, enjoying himself hugely, as if he were still -in college. "Certainly not! Only pretty. Very pretty. Come, Jennie! -How about the pose?" - -"I'll show you!" cried Jennie. Half dancing on her toes, with skirts -fluttering, and eyes sparkling the more, it seemed, because of -Crockett's bitterly hostile regard, she tripped around the table and -stood by his side, facing the same way he faced. She plucked the rose -from her hair and stuck it behind Crockett's ear. It drooped -grotesquely over his thin hair. Then, laughing at the rose, she put one -bare arm about his neck, her hand extending beyond his face on the other -side. - -"Give me a cocktail glass in that hand!" she cried. "Never mind what's -in it. Anything!" - -Merriam filled a glass from the siphon and put it into the hand referred -to. - -Then Jennie raised a pink leg and put it on the table, stretching -straight in front of herself and Crockett towards the center of the -board, amid the plates and glasses and crumpled napkins. She put her -other hand under Crockett's chin as if about to tickle him, dropped her -face close to his, and looked at Merriam with eyes of laughing inquiry. - -"Fine!" said Merriam. "Are you ready, Margery?" - -Margery was already pointing the camera. - -"Not yet," she said. - -He addressed himself to the victim: - -"Mr. Crockett, you can, of course, wink or twist your face to spoil the -picture. If you do, I'll simply have to choke you a little before we -try again. So you'd better look pleasant!" - -"Ready!" said Margery. - -Merriam set the dust pan, with the little heap of powder in the center -of it, on a plate on the sideboard beside Margery, lit a match, and, -with a last glance at Jennie's extraordinary pose and laughing face, -switched off the lights and touched the powder. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXII* - - *VIRTUE TRIUMPHANT* - - -Immediately after the flash Merriam switched on the lights, and his eyes -sought Crockett. Apparently the man had faced the camera stolidly--a -grotesque figure surmounted by the dangling flower and enveloped as it -were in Jennie's acrobatic pose. - -"All right!" said Merriam, coughing in the smoke which filled the small -room. "But we'll take one more. You never can be sure of a single -film. Got some more powder, Margery?" - -"Yes," said Margery, who had set the camera down and stepped aside to -open a window. She passed into the sitting room. - -Jennie gingerly removed her leg from the table and her arm from about -Crockett's neck. In the latter process she spilled a little of the -water from the cocktail glass--unintentionally, let us hope--on -Crockett's head. - -"Damn!" - -Jennie, quite regardless, eased herself on her two legs again. - -"Gee!" she said. "I couldn't have held that pose much longer. In -another second I'd have split at the waist!" - -Merriam laughed. "Look what you've done," he said. - -Jennie caught up a napkin and mopped the face and head. - -"Sorry!" she cried sympathetically. "I didn't mean to wet him! There!" -and she dropped a light kiss on the cleansed cheek and smiled her -rosiest smile at the trussed victim. - -Crockett answered Jennie's smile with a glare that might have caused a -panic on the Stock Exchange. - -It had no very serious effect, however, on Jennie. She shrugged her -pretty shoulders and daintily chucked him under the chin. - -"That isn't a nice look!" she said. - -At this point Margery returned with a package of flash-light powder and -began to pour a second little pile on the dust pan. - -"Take your pose!" said Merriam to Jennie. - -"Not that one," said Jennie. "It's too hard. Look!" - -She picked the rose from above Crockett's ear and stepped behind his -chair. Then she stooped till her chin rested on the top of his head and -let her two bare arms drop past his cheeks till her hands came together -on his shirt front. In her hands she held the rose pointing upward so -that the blossom was just below his chin. - -The effect was distinctly comical--Crockett's dour countenance, with its -angry eyes, framed above by Jennie's pretty laughing face, resting on -the very top of his head, at the sides by her round white arms, and -below by the rose under his chin. - -"Fine!" Merriam laughed. "It's better than the other. Ready, Margery?" - -"Yes." - -A second time he switched off the lights and touched a match to the -powder. - -Again Crockett had not even blinked so far as Merriam could judge. Well -satisfied, the latter spoke to Margery: - -"Put that camera away, will you, please, where it could not be easily -found except by yourself." - -Margery picked up the camera and departed into the kitchenette. - -Then, "Let him alone, Jennie," he said. For Jennie had left the back of -Crockett's chair and perched herself on the edge of the table beside him -and was flicking him under the chin with the rose. - -"All right," she said. "He's no fun. He's very cross!" - -She slid off the table and dropped into a chair, transferring her -attention to Merriam, as though in the hope that he might be less -obdurately disposed. - -But Merriam addressed himself to the other man. - -"Now, Mr. Crockett," he said, "this little supper party and -entertainment are over, I believe. If you wish to leave, I shall be -glad to release you and permit you to do so." - -Crockett's reply was a sound between a grunt and a growl. - -Merriam walked around the table and picked up the revolver where it had -fallen by the wall. - -"I don't believe," he continued, "that it will do you any good to start -any rough-house when I have freed you. If you do, Jennie and Margery -will scream, and I shall fire this revolver. That will bring in -neighbours and probably the police, whose testimony would thus be added -to that of the pictures we have taken as to your manner of spending your -evening. You will understand that while I shall have those pictures -developed the first thing in the morning I shall not show them to any -one except Mr. Rockwell unless you compel me to do so." - -By this time Crockett had become articulate. - -"Compel you to do so?" he repeated stiffly. "May I ask what you mean by -that?" - -"Well," said Merriam, "you see I am an enthusiastic supporter of the -Reform League as led by Mr. Rockwell and Senator Norman and Mayor Black. -You, I understand, are opposed to the League and its policies. So long -as your opposition relates itself only to those policies and involves -only open public discussion of their merits, I shall, of course, have no -reason to interfere. But if your opposition should take the form of any -personal attack, on Senator Norman, let us say, I should feel compelled -to retaliate by a personal attack upon you, making use of these pictures -we have taken to-night and the story that will readily weave itself -about them. Do you see?" - -"See!" Crockett cried. "Of course I see. Blackmail! How much do you -want for that camera? Name your price." - -"It has no cash price," returned Merriam steadily. "Now if I release -you, will you leave quietly?" - -For a long moment the financier stared at the younger man who had -worsted him. Then: - -"At this moment," he said acridly, "I certainly have no other desire -than to get away from this place and to be rid of my present -companionship." - -Merriam was tempted to laugh at the stilted dignity of this phraseology, -but he managed to keep a straight face. - -"Very well," he said. "Margery,"--for Margery had just returned from -the kitchenette minus the camera,--"help me untie him, will you? Feet -first." - -Margery and Merriam knelt for a moment at the two sides of Crockett's -chair and released his two legs. Then Merriam again put the table -between himself and Crockett and stood waiting, revolver in hand, -leaving to Margery the work of unbinding the arms. He was afraid that -his own near presence to Crockett when the latter found himself free -might tempt him irresistibly to personal assault. - -In the moment during which he stood waiting he became conscious that -Jennie, half reclining in the chair into which she had dropped, was -smiling at him--a pretty, confidential smile which he did not -understand. - -But he had no time to consider Jennie just then, for Margery had -completed her work. The last piece of rope fell on the floor, and she -lifted the slip noose from about Crockett's neck. He had been rather -tightly bound and did not instantly have the full use of his limbs. -Margery took his arm to assist him. - -"My coat and hat!" he said, not looking at Merriam. - -"In the sitting room," said Margery. - -He turned himself in that direction and in a jerky walk, with some -support from Margery, moved towards and through the portieres. He had -disdained to cast so much as a glance at either Merriam or Jennie. - -Jennie resented this. "Old crosspatch!" she cried. - -Merriam stepped hastily to the portieres and peeped through. Crockett -had caught up his light overcoat and silk hat from a chair. He refused -Margery's offer to help him on with his coat and made, already moving -more naturally, for the hall door. Margery followed him. The door -opened--closed again. Margery returned from the hallway. - -Merriam advanced through the portieres into the sitting room. - -"Well!" he exclaimed. - -"Well!" returned Margery, with a dry laugh--the first laugh Merriam had -heard from her during the whole evening. - -"See what he does in the street," she added. "Raise the shade about a -foot. I'll turn off the light." - -Merriam acted promptly on this excellent hint. In a moment the room was -in darkness, and he was kneeling by the window watching the street -below, which was fairly well illuminated from arc lights at either -corner. Part way down the block on the other side of the roadway a car, -presumably a taxi, stood by the curb, with a man walking up and down -beside it. Jennie's flat was too high up for Merriam to be able to see -the sidewalk immediately below. If, therefore, Crockett on emerging -from the building merely walked away, he would see nothing. But this -was hardly likely. - -Presently, sure enough, the taxi showed sudden signs of life. The man -hastily got in, and the car rolled forward, crossing the street -diagonally, and stopped directly below Merriam's window. Crockett had -come out and signalled it. A moment later it shot away down the block -and turned the corner. - -Merriam still knelt by the window, peering into the street. He was -looking for signs of any remaining watchers, for he had his own exit to -think of: Rockwell had wanted him to "come at once to the hotel." - -As he knelt there in the dark he suddenly sensed a warm fragrant body -close beside his own. A pair of soft bare arms slipped about his neck. - -"It was fine!" Jennie's voice whispered in his ear. "You're a nice -boy!" - -She had crept up behind him in the dark. Margery must have left the -room. - -For a moment Merriam knelt in fascinated silent rigidity. When he moved -it was only to turn his head. And the turning of his head brought his -face close to Jennie's, which, with the dim light from the street upon -it, smiled at him with a kind of saucy tenderness. It was the face of a -pretty child, with the lure of womanhood added, but with nothing else of -maturity in it. - -Her lips puckered. "Kiss me!" she whispered. - -As he still only stared she quickly leaned forward a couple of inches -more--her lips rested on his. - -I am very much afraid that for an instant Merriam's lips responded. He -half turned on one knee. His arms involuntarily closed about the -seductive little body. He felt the short silk skirts crush deliciously -against his legs. - -And then a grotesque sort of composite picture of all the things he -ought to remember, including Rockwell, Norman, Mollie June, and the -members of the Riceville School Board, rushed across his mind. He -struggled to his feet, pushing Jennie not roughly--away. - -"Margery!" he called. - -"Yes?" came Margery's voice from the dining room. - -"Turn on the lights!" - -By the time Margery had stepped through the portieres and pushed the -switch Jennie had thrown herself face downward on the davenport, crying. - -"Nobody loves me!" she sobbed. - -Margery, standing by the switch, looked from Merriam at the window to -Jennie on the couch and back again. Her expression indicated no -bewilderment--rather a humorously cynical comprehension. She knew her -Jennie. - -At any rate, that glance steadied the young man. After meeting it for a -moment he turned to Jennie. Poor little girl! He felt that he -understood her perfectly. There was a side of himself that was like -that. Only he had other sides powerfully developed, and Jennie had no -other sides. All his young chivalry rose up, in alliance with the -missionary spirit of the teacher. He desired greatly to help her. - -After an instant's hesitation he crossed the room and drew up a chair -beside the davenport. - -"Jennie," he said, "listen!" - -"Go away!" said Jennie. - -"I _am_ going away in a minute. But I want to tell you something -first." - -Her sobbing ceased, but he waited till she asked: - -"Well, what?" - -"There _is_ somebody who loves you." - -Hopefully Jennie raised her head and turned her face to him--still oddly -pretty in spite of the tear-streaked rouge. But after a moment's look -she said resentfully: - -"It isn't you!" - -"No," said Merriam, "it isn't I." - -Even at this rate the discussion was apparently interesting enough to -rouse her. With a sudden movement she curled herself up, half sitting, -half reclining, in a corner of the davenport, and smoothed the crumpled -skirts over her knees. - -"Do you mean George?" she asked. - -"No," said Merriam, "I mean Mr. Simpson." - -"_Mister_ Simpson!" She laughed derisively, not prettily at all. "A -waiter!" - -"Listen, Jennie. Simpson is a fine fellow, with lots of brains and lots -of courage. He has shown both within the last twenty-four hours. He's -rendered a very important service to Mr. Rockwell and Senator Norman, -and they're going to give him a lot of money for a reward. I don't know -how much--maybe five thousand dollars. And he's crazy about you. He'll -marry you in a minute if you'll let him, in spite of--George. He'll -take you away on a fine trip--anywhere you want to go. And afterwards -he'll set up in a business of his own--a cafe or whatever he likes. -You'll have a real home and a husband and money enough and friends. -It'll be a lot better than this stuff--like to-night. It really would. -Think it over, Jennie!" - -On the last words he rose. - -"He's right!" cried Margery, who had drawn near. - -"Shut up, Marge!" said Jennie. - -But Merriam, looking closely at her with the sharp eye of a teacher to -see whether or not his point had gone home, was satisfied. He was sure -that she would think it over in spite of herself. - -He looked at his watch. It was ten minutes after one. - -"I must telephone at once to Mr. Rockwell in Senator Norman's rooms at -the Hotel De Soto," he said to Margery. - -"Yes," said Margery. "The hotel number is Madison 1-6-8-1." - -"Thank you." - -Without looking again at Jennie, he went to the telephone in the dining -room. In a moment he had the hotel and had asked to be connected with -Senator Norman's rooms. It was Rockwell's voice that answered, "Hello!" - -"This is Merriam." - -"Thank God! Where are you?" - -"At Jennie's." - -"Still? What the devil was the ruction there when I called up?" - -"I'll tell you about that later. Do you still want me to come to the -hotel?" - -"Certainly. As fast as you can." - -"You got the Senator back all right?" - -"Yes. But he's pretty sick. Caught more cold, I guess. Hobart's -worried about him. You'll have to stay over another day all right. And -make that speech." - -Merriam groaned. - -"Listen!" said Rockwell. "You'll have to be mighty careful about -getting into the hotel. You aren't Senator Norman just now, you know. -The Senator has already returned to the hotel, openly, with me, three -hours ago, and is sick in his rooms. We'll have to smuggle you in -without any one's seeing you. But I have a plan--or rather Simpson has. -You'd better come down on the Elevated. That'll be better than a taxi -this time. No chauffeur to tell on you. Be sure you get away from -there without being followed. Margery'll show you a way. Get off at -Madison and Wabash. Simpson will meet you there and smuggle you in the -back way. You can come right away?" - -"Yes." - -"Then for Heaven's sake come! We'll talk after you get here." He hung -up. - -Merriam stared at the instrument as he slowly replaced his own receiver. -Another day. "And make that speech!" Would this kaleidoscopic, unreal -phantasm of adventures never end? When would he wake up? He perceived -suddenly that he was very tired. But he must brace up sufficiently to -get back to the hotel. There doubtless he would be permitted to go to -bed and snatch at least a few hours' sleep--before the speech! - -He turned and found Margery standing between the portieres, watching -him. - -"Well!" she said sharply. - -"I must--must--get dressed," he finished, realising for the first time -since he had leapt out of bed with his revolver to divert Crockett from -the telephone that he was attired only in pajamas. "Rockwell says you -can tell me a way to get away from here without being seen by any -watchers." - -"Yes," said Margery. "Go and dress. I'll attend to that." - -He went into the bedroom and began to get into his clothes, working -mechanically. - -Presently he was ready--though with such a loose and rakish bow as he -had never before disported--and emerged into the dining room. - -There he encountered a cheering spectacle. Margery was seated at the -table between a coffee percolator, efficiently bubbling, and an electric -toaster. She was buttering hot toast. Jennie sat at one side of the -table. A pale blue kimono now covered her dancing costume, and she -looked quite demure. She raised her eyes almost shyly as Merriam -entered. - -"Well!" he exclaimed. "This is grand. Margery, you certainly are a -trump!" - -Margery's rather sallow cheeks flushed slightly. "You'll need it," was -all she said, and proceeded to fill a cup for him from the percolator. - -"How do I get away?" Merriam asked as he sipped. - -"Back stairs," said Margery succinctly. "I'll show you." - -Munching toast, he enquired the whereabouts of the nearest Elevated -station and was duly instructed. - -He had a second cup of the black coffee. Margery did not take any and -would not give Jennie any. - -"We go straight to bed," she said decidedly. - -From time to time Merriam cast an unwilling glance at Jennie, sitting -downcast and out of it on Margery's other side. About the third time -Jennie intercepted his glance and answered it with a small wistful -smile. After that he would not look again. In a few minutes, of course, -this very early breakfast--it was somewhere around two o'clock--was -over, and Merriam rose. - -"I must be off," he said, and hesitated. "I am very much indebted to -both of you for--all the help you have given me this evening!" (Inwardly -he abused himself for his stiltedness; it was like his telling Mollie -June he was glad to have helped her in algebra.) - -Jennie rose too and came around the table towards him. She had suddenly -summoned back a smile, and she moved daintily inside the blue kimono. -Above the stalk of that straight, demure, Japanesy blue, her head nodded -like a bright blossom--with its fair, wavy hair, blue eyes, and -childishly rounded cheeks, still gaudy with the remains of rouge. - -She tripped forward till she was almost touching Merriam, stopped, and -suddenly raised her eyes to him. - -"Kiss me good-bye!" she said. - -We may suspect that it was a sort of point of honour with Jennie to -retrieve the rebuff she had received in the sitting room. As for -Merriam, in spite of the obvious deliberateness of this assault, I am -not perfectly sure I could answer for him if it had not been for -Margery. But Margery's presence saved him from serious temptation. - -Instead of stooping to kiss the lifted lips he caught Jennie's hand that -hung at her side, and, stepping back half a step, raised the hand and -kissed it. - -Sometimes the inspirations of youth are singularly happy. It seems to -me that this one was of that kind: it involved neither yielding nor -discourtesy. - -Jennie was somewhat taken aback, yet she could not be hurt by a gesture -so gallant. - -"Good-bye, Jennie," he said. "I hope to be the best man at your wedding -before long." - -"Oh!" she said, and withdrew her hand. Then: "Good-bye!" - -After a moment's hesitation and a last quite shy glance at Merriam she -suddenly gathered up the skirts of the kimono and ran into the sitting -room. - -"Are you ready?" said Margery dryly. - -"My coat. I haven't a hat," he added, remembering that under Rockwell's -instructions he had left this article in the taxi in which they had come -to the flat. - -"Your coat's in the hall," said Margery. "I can get you a hat too." - -The dining room was connected directly with the hallway, and in a moment -Margery had returned with Merriam's light overcoat and with a man's -derby--probably Norman's property. - -"Thank you," said Merriam, taking them. - -"This way," she replied, moving towards the kitchenette. - -In the kitchenette he was momentarily surprised to see Margery opening a -tin box labeled "Bread." Was she going to equip him with a lunch? But -she drew out, not a loaf, but the camera. - -"You'll want to take this along," she said. - -"Indeed, yes." - -Then he followed her out on to the back porch, where earlier--ages ago, -it seemed--he had deposited the stepladder. - -"Now," said Margery, "you go down these stairs and diagonally across the -court to that archway. See?" She pointed. "That brings you out on the -other side of the block. Nobody will be looking for you there. And the -Elevated station is three and one-half blocks west. Put on your hat and -coat. I'll hold it." - -"Thank you so much," said Merriam, as the coat slipped on. - -Then he turned, took off his hat again, and held out his hand. - -"Good-bye, Margery," he said, shaking hands heartily. "Thank you--for -everything." - -For a moment they looked at each other with mutual respect. - -Then Merriam said: - -"I'm going to send Simpson around to see Jennie. Shan't I?" - -"You can try it," said Margery. "Good-bye." - -She went back into the kitchenette and closed the door. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIII* - - *RETURN* - - -"Madison and Wabash!" shouted the guard. - -Merriam started, picked up his camera, and made for the door. He had -scarcely heard the other stations called and thanked his stars that he -had waked up for this one. - -He descended the stairs from the Elevated platform and found Simpson -waiting. - -"Good morning, Simpson." - -"Good morning." - -"Mr. Rockwell says you can get me into the hotel unnoticed." - -Simpson looked at him sideways, hesitated, then turned and started -slowly west. - -Merriam fell into step beside him and for a moment wondered obtusely -what ailed the man. Then he understood. Of course! He wanted news of -Jennie. Perhaps he was suspicious as to how Merriam might have spent -his time in that apartment. Perhaps he, like Margery, knew his Jennie -only too well. - -To set his mind at rest, Merriam plunged at once into a sketchy summary -of the events at the flat--Crockett's arrival--"almost as soon as you -had left," he placed it--his own telling of his story--Crockett's being -half convinced--Jennie's plan--the supper party (without reference to -Jennie's change of costume or the dancing on the table)--Rockwell's -telephone call--the tying up and the flash lights. - -"I have the films here," he added, exhibiting the camera as tangible -evidence that he was not yarning. "Can you get them developed for me in -the morning?" - -"Yes," said Simpson, in a much less frigid tone than before. He took -the camera. - -"After Crockett had gone," Merriam continued smoothly, "I talked to -Jennie about you. I told her she ought to marry you, and how well -you've shown up in this affair, and that Senator Norman and Rockwell are -going to pay you a bit of money for it, which you've certainly earned, -and that you would take her away on a little trip anywhere she wanted to -go, and then set up in a business of your own somewhere, and that she -would be a lot happier that way than now." - -An older man, more sensitive to the dynamite in the situation, would -probably have spoken less freely and less successfully. Whatever else -Simpson may have felt, he could not question his companion's youthful -candour and good will. After perhaps a dozen steps he spoke in a -carefully controlled voice: - -"What did she say?" - -"She didn't answer me," lied Merriam. "I told her to think it over. -She was impressed all right. And when I left I told Margery I was going -to send you around." - -"What did Margery say?" asked Simpson quickly. - -"She said yes, you should come." - -Simpson drew a deep breath and stopped short at a corner. - -"I'm very much obliged to you, sir," he said, looking quickly at Merriam -and quickly away again. - -Merriam held out his hand. - -"Good luck!" he said. - -Simpson grasped the hand and shook it intensely. Then, resuming his -really admirable self-control, he said: - -"We turn down here. I'm going to take you up a fire escape. It's the -only way. You can't go into a hotel in the regular way even at this -time of night without being seen." - -They turned into an alley which ran behind the Hotel De Soto, and -presently came to a door--a servants' entrance--in the ugly blank wall -of yellow brick. - -Simpson opened the door, and they passed into a bare hallway, -pine-floored, plaster-walled, lighted at intervals by unshaded, -low-powered incandescents. - -Many doors of yellow pine opened on both sides of this hall, but -Simpson, walking rapidly and quietly, passed them all, turned into a -further stretch of hallway, narrower and still more dimly lighted, and -stopped before a door of iron--evidently a fire door. He got out a key -and unlocked this door, and they emerged into the air again in the inner -court of the hotel, a great dismal well, the depository of drifts of -soot, accentuated here and there by scraps of paper and other rubbish, -and the haunt, for reasons difficult to understand, of the indomitable, -grimy wild pigeons of the Loop. - -Simpson closed the iron door behind them and began a searching scrutiny -of the rows of windows. All but half a dozen or so were dark. It looked -safe. - -Satisfied, Simpson walked twenty feet or more along the side of the -court and stopped below a fire escape. The platform at the lower end of -the iron stairway was placed too high for a man to reach it from the -ground unaided. - -"Give me a boost," said Simpson. He stooped and placed the camera on -the ground. - -In a moment Merriam had hoisted him up, so that he could catch hold of -the end of the platform and pull himself on to it. Then Simpson lay -down on his stomach and dropped his arms over the edge of the platform. -Merriam first handed up the camera and then with a little jump caught -his hands and was drawn up until he in his turn could get hold of the -edge of the landing and scramble on to it. - -A moment later they were erect and had begun stealthily to mount the -narrow stairs. - -It seemed to Merriam that they went up interminably--a short flight--a -turn--another short flight--along a platform past sleeping -windows--another flight. He got out of breath, and began to feel very -tired. The effect of Margery's coffee was wearing off. - -But at last Simpson stopped on one of the platforms and peered through a -window. It was one of which the shades were not drawn at all and was -open about two inches at the bottom. - -"This is it," said Simpson, and he stooped, opened the window, and -climbed in. - -As soon as Merriam had followed, Simpson closed the window and drew the -shade. Then he crossed the dark room and pushed a switch. - -"Where are we?" asked Merriam. - -"This room is next to Senator Norman's bedroom," said Simpson, "on the -other side from the sitting room. The couple who had it left this -evening, and Mr. Rockwell has taken it for you under the name of Wilson. -Mr. Rockwell will be expecting us." - -He moved to a door at the side and knocked softly four times--once, -twice, and once again. - -Almost immediately a key was turned on the other side, the door was -opened, and Rockwell stood surveying them. - -There was only a dim light in the room behind him. With a glance over -his shoulder at the bed where the sick Senator lay--the same bed in -which Merriam had played at being sick on the previous afternoon,--he -entered the new room and closed the door. - -"You've made it!" he said. "Thank Heaven! You weren't seen, Simpson?" - -"I think not, sir." - -He looked closely at Merriam. "You're tired," he said. - -"I sure am." - -"Well, so am I. What a day! And to-morrow will be as bad. Maybe -worse. Never again will I father an impostor. But we've got to see it -through this time. Sit down. Have a cigarette, and tell me what -happened at the flat. Then I'll let you go to bed and snatch a few -hours' sleep. You must be in fighting trim to-morrow, you know--for the -speech!" - -Merriam took the proffered cigarette and dropped gratefully into a -chair. Rockwell and Simpson also sat down. - -"How's Senator Norman?" Merriam asked. - -"Sick. Hobart looks serious, but he says he'll pull around in a day or -two. He's dosing him heavily. You've simply got to stay by us and play -the game until he's on his feet again." - -"I suppose so. Well----" - -He was about to repeat the summary of the events of his evening which he -had already given Simpson, so as to get it over and get to bed. But -before he could begin a knock sounded at the side door through which -Rockwell had entered. - -Simpson went to the door and opened it. It was Dr. Hobart. - -"Miss Norman and Mrs. Norman want to come in," he said. - -Rockwell hesitated. No doubt he would have preferred to hear Merriam's -story himself first, without even Aunt Mary present. - -Merriam meanwhile sat up, suddenly forgetting his fatigue: he was to see -Mollie June still that night. He had not hoped for that. - -"I supposed they would have gone to bed," he said, to cover his -involuntary show of interest. - -"No," said Rockwell. "After the dinner party they waited for me to come -back with Norman, of course. Then he was so ill that Hobart kept us all -busy for a couple of hours doing things. We didn't want to get in a -nurse on account of--you, you know. And then they wanted to wait till -you came. We expected you a long time ago. Well," he added, turning to -the physician, "tell them to come along." - -It was at least a minute before they arrived. Merriam was oddly nervous. -He had been through strange scenes since he had left Mollie June in the -Peacock Cabaret, and she must have divined as much. - -They entered, Aunt Mary first with Mollie June behind her, and Merriam -and Rockwell rose. The two women were dressed just as they had been at -the dinner party--Aunt Mary in the black evening gown and Mollie June in -the filmy rose. Mollie June looked just a little pale and tired, but -Aunt Mary had not turned a hair. - -"Well, young man," began the older woman briskly, "you've kept us up -till a pretty time of night. What was happening there where you were -when Mr. Rockwell telephoned? Sit down and tell us." - -Evidently Aunt Mary, conscious of the ungodly hour, did not think it -necessary to allow Merriam time for even a formal greeting of her young -sister-in-law, who had stopped uncertainly in the doorway. - -But Merriam was not to be hurried to quite that degree, whatever the -time of night or morning might be. He turned to Mollie June. - -"You're coming in, aren't you? Take this chair." - -He pushed a rocker towards her, concerned at her evident fatigue. - -She came forward and sat down, then raised her eyes to him with a grave -"Thank you." - -For a moment Merriam did not understand that steady, unsmiling look. -Then he thought he did understand. It had a questioning quality. -Mollie June's mind was at ease now about her husband, since he was back -and not supposed to be seriously ill, and she, like Simpson earlier, was -wondering--not that it concerned her, of course--how Merriam had spent -the night--so large a part of it--at Jennie's flat. She, too, knew -Jennie, to the extent at least of having seen and in a measure -comprehended her. Perhaps even in a Mollie June there is that which -enables her to understand a Jennie and her lure for a youthful male. He -remembered Mollie June's description of her and the cool detachment with -which it had been uttered: "She's pretty and sweet, and--warm." - -For just an instant Merriam was slightly confused. He had verified that -description--all of it. - -It is to be feared that his embarrassment, slight and merely -instantaneous though it was, did not escape Mollie June. She dropped -her eyes, still unsmiling. - -Merriam's second sketch of his evening's adventures differed from the -one he had given Simpson in being fuller and in two particular points: -first, of course, in omitting reference to his missionary efforts in -Simpson's behalf, which, however laudable, were hardly for the ears of -Mollie June; and, second, in including mention of Jennie's change into -her ballet costume--because he realised as he talked that the pictures, -to be developed in the morning, would exhibit that detail most -unmistakably and that he would do well to prepare Mollie June's -mind--and Simpson's, for that matter--in advance. But he laid his -emphasis on the more dramatic episodes--the hurled revolver, the tying -up, the flash lights, and Crockett's angry exit. He told it humorously -and well, and was rewarded by Mollie June's interest. Her questioning -gravity disappeared, and she followed him with eager attention and with -a return of pretty colour to her cheeks. - -Aunt Mary and Rockwell--not to mention Simpson--also listened -attentively. When Merriam had finished they looked at each other. - -"Well," said Rockwell, "I'm not sure but that it would have been better -to let him go as soon as you had told him your yarn, but on the whole I -think you did mighty well. Those pictures may come in handy." - -Aunt Mary rose. "You certainly are an enterprising young man, Mr. -Merriam," she said dryly. "Now go to bed and get some sleep. You make -your debut as an orator at noon, you know! Come, Mollie June." - -"Good night, Miss Norman," said Merriam, and he advanced to Mollie June, -who had also risen. - -"Good night, Mrs. Mollie June." He dropped his voice for the last three -words and held out his hand. - -She took it with an unconscious happy smile. - -"Good night--Mr. John," she said. - -Whatever she may have feared or suspected his story had established an -alibi for him. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIV* - - *THE REFORM LEAGUE* - - -"Quarter to ten," said Rockwell cheerily. "I've let you sleep to the -last possible moment. Here's your breakfast on the stand. Better eat it -and drink your coffee first. Then a shave and get at this." He -indicated a small pile of manuscript on the writing table. "Your -speech, Senator!" he grinned. - -"Good Lord!" groaned Merriam, remembering everything. He perceived also -that he was to breakfast alone--no Mollie June. But the sight of the -manuscript fascinated and aroused him. He realised, as he had not done -before, that within a few hours he was to make a public address in a -great Chicago club before many of the city's most prominent men and -women--on what subject even he had no idea! - -"Good Lord!" he said again and put his feet out. "How's Senator -Norman?" he asked. - -"Sleeping now," said Rockwell. "Hobart thinks he can get him on his -feet by night. He's due to start for Cairo this evening, you know, on a -stumping trip." Then quickly: "You'll find these sliced oranges -refreshing. Have your bath first if you want to." - -Merriam was in the midst of his breakfast when Rockwell returned. "By -the way," he said, "here are your pictures," and he took some unmounted -prints from an envelope. - -Merriam reached for them with curiosity and something like trepidation. -They were not good flash lights--a little blurred,--but the faces and -attitudes were unmistakable. Jennie's foot and leg extending forward -across the table were very much in evidence in the first of them. - -"Rather striking poses," commented Rockwell. - -"Jennie's invention," said Merriam defensively. - -"No doubt. Well, they could hardly be better for their purpose. I -think Crockett will go slow all right." - -"Have--has Miss Norman seen them?" - -"Yes. And Simpson, of course." For a moment Rockwell quizzically -regarded Merriam's face, in which a further unspoken question was -anxiously plain. Then he answered it: "No one else. Mrs. Norman is -still sleeping. I'm not sure Aunt Mary will consider them proper -pictures for her to see anyway. Come," he added briskly, "you've eaten -only one piece of toast. You must get outside of at least one more -piece. And then shave. I'll strop your razor for you. I'm your valet -this morning, Senator." - -With a sigh Merriam glanced at the waiting speech and tackled a second -piece of toast, with the feeling that its mastication was a task of -almost impossible difficulty. He achieved it, however, to the rhythmic -accompaniment of Rockwell's stropping, consumed another cup of -coffee--his third, I regret to say,--and proceeded to shave. - -At last Merriam was collared and tied and was slipping into his coat. -Rockwell rose and laid down the manuscript. - -"Ready?" he said. "Very good. You can get to work. It's a quarter -past ten. The luncheon is at twelve-thirty. But we shan't appear at -the luncheon itself. Too dangerous. You'd have to meet a lot of men -who know the Senator--meet them face to face in cold daylight and talk -to them. We'd never get away with it. So I'll telephone that you've -been detained by important business but will be in for the speeches. -That way we'll come in by ourselves, with everybody else set and no -opportunity for personal confabulations. You'll have to run the -gauntlet of their eyes, of course. But you can do that." - -Earnestly for a moment he scrutinised Merriam's face and figure, as if -to reassure himself that the astounding imposture had been and was still -really possible. - -"Yes," he continued confidently, "that'll be all right. The speeches -are scheduled to begin at one-fifteen. We'll leave here at five or ten -minutes after one. That gives you nearly three hours to salt down the -speech. You can learn it verbatim or only master the outline and -substance and give it in your own words. Perhaps you'd better learn a -good deal of it just as it is. Aunt Mary has it chock-full of the -Senator's pet words and phrases. Your own style might be too different. -Do you commit easily?" - -"Fairly so," said Merriam. As a matter of fact the speech itself -presented few terrors to him. He had done a good deal of debating and -declaiming in college, and of course in his capacity as principal of the -high school he was called upon for "a few words" on every conceivable -occasion in Riceville. - -"Good. Go to it, then. I'll make myself scarce. Here are cigarettes. -You won't be disturbed. _Au revoir_, Senator! If you want anything, -knock on this door. Either Hobart or I will answer." - -Grinning, Rockwell departed into the real, the sick Senator's, bedroom, -leaving Merriam with the typewritten manuscript. - -He worked away for a couple of hours, sometimes sitting down, more often -walking back and forth, occasionally refreshing himself with a -cigarette, and faithfully learning by heart Aunt Mary's Senator Norman's -speech on "Municipal Reform." - -By half past twelve he had mastered it to his satisfaction. He decided -to go through with it once more by the clock. It was designed, as he -knew from a pencil note at the top of the first page, to take thirty -minutes. He did so, and came out at the end by five minutes to one. - -Evidently his delivery was a little more rapid than Senator Norman's. -He must remember to speak slowly. - -He had just reached this conclusion when a knock sounded at the side -door and Rockwell entered. - -"I've got it by heart," said Merriam. - -"Good! Come into the sitting room, then. You're to have a cup of coffee -and a sandwich before you start." - -"Fine. I am a bit hollow. How's the Senator?" - -Rockwell looked worried, but answered, "Sleeping again now. Come along -if you're ready." - -"In a minute." - -Merriam bathed his face and hands, folded the speech and put it in his -pocket, and followed Rockwell across the Senator's bedroom, with just a -glance at the sick man in the bed and a nod to Dr. Hobart, who sat by -the window with a newspaper into the sitting room. - -After his morning of intense, solitary labour he was somewhat nonplused -for a moment by the size of the company he found assembled there--Aunt -Mary and Mollie June, of course, Alicia, Mr. Wayward, and Father Murray. -He said good morning to each of them. - -Alicia reminded him that it was really afternoon now. - -"We shall meet Black in the car," said Rockwell. "Then the roll of the -conspirators will be complete!" - -Mollie June, who had had no speech to learn, had slept late and was now -as blooming as ever. - -"We're all going to hear you," she said as she gave Merriam her hand. - -"Good Heavens!" he said, with a twinge of the stage fright which he had -thus far had no time to feel. "I shouldn't mind the others, but -you----" - -He left that dangerous remark unfinished. - -To Aunt Mary he said: "I've learned the speech by heart. I admire it -very much," and was pleased to note that even Aunt Mary had an author's -susceptibility to praise. - -Meanwhile Simpson, who was in attendance, had poured out a cup of -coffee, and Mollie June brought it to him with a sandwich on a plate. - -"Won't you sit down to eat it?" she asked, regarding him with a look of -awe which flattered him enormously and served to quiet his rising -nervousness. - -(Mollie June had taken oratory of all degrees and on all possible -occasions on the part of Norman as a matter of course, but the thought -that John Merriam, who was only a little older than herself and had -taken her to "sociables" and had wanted to make love to her but had not -dared, was about to address the distinguished Urban Club of Chicago at -one of its formidable luncheons filled her with admiration.) - -"Thank you," he said, taking the coffee and the sandwich. "No, I think -I'll eat it standing." But he smiled at her with the confidence which -her admiration had given him, thereby increasing the admiration--a -pleasing psychological circle. - -But now Rockwell was at his side and barely gave him time to finish his -sandwich and gulp down the coffee. - -"Miss Norman and the Senator and I go with Mayor Black in the Senator's -car," said that master of ceremonies and conspiracies. "The other four -of you are to follow in the Mayor's machine. Here's your coat and hat." - -Along the hall--down in the elevator--through the lobby to the -pavement--Merriam had only a dazed sense of being part of an -irresistible, conspicuous procession which was carrying him whither he -had no strong desire to go. - -A limousine was already drawn up at the curb, and the hotel starter was -deferentially holding the door. - -Mayor Black was already within the car. - -"Ah, Senator," the Mayor ejaculated, "I'm glad to see you up again, and -to have you--really you--coming to the Reform League!" - -For an instant Merriam did not understand. Then he realised that the -Mayor thought he was addressing the real Senator Norman. It was a good -omen for the continued success of his impersonation. - -He sank into the seat opposite the Mayor, who was facing forward with -Aunt Mary beside him. Rockwell climbed in and sat next to Merriam. The -door slammed, and the machine started. - -Then, as the Mayor still beamed at him and as neither of the others -spoke, Merriam said gently: - -"I'm still the impostor, I'm afraid, Mr. Mayor." - -"Eh!" - -The Mayor leaned forward to scrutinise his face and then turned as if -bewildered and still unconvinced to Rockwell. - -"Yes," said Rockwell. "I tried to get you on the 'phone this morning, -but your line was busy, and I didn't have a chance to try again. The -Senator is still sick. Worse, in fact. Mr. Merriam is going to keep -the Senator's engagement at the Urban Club for him." - -"My God!" cried the Mayor. "Speak before all those people! You never -can do it!" - -"Yes, we can," said Rockwell, with smiling serenity. "You were fooled -again yourself just now," he pointed out. - -The Mayor groaned. "Then we still don't know where Senator Norman -himself will stand when he's up," he said. - -"I telephoned you yesterday that he had agreed to everything," said Aunt -Mary coldly. "That was true." - -"While he was sick," said Black. "Will he stick to it when he's well -again?" - -"He'll have to stick," said Rockwell. "Ten times more so after this -speech. He can't possibly go back on that." - -"If this Mr.--Mr. Merriam," said the Mayor, eyeing him with profound -dislike, "is unmasked at the Urban Club, it would be the utter ruin of -us all." - -"It undoubtedly would," replied Rockwell cheerfully. "All the more -reason why we should all keep a stiff upper lip and play up for him." - -"No!" cried the Mayor. "It's insane! Stop the car! I'll step into the -nearest store and telephone that the Senator has fainted in the cab and -can't appear. Anything is better than this awful risk." - -He put out his hand for the cord to signal to the chauffeur. But -Rockwell roughly struck his arm down. - -"Sit still!" he commanded savagely. "Do you want us to choke you again? -This car goes on to the Urban Club. Senator Norman has a fine speech, -and he'll make it well. No one will suspect. The thing has the one -essential characteristic of successful imposture--boldness to the point -of impossibility. If any one notices any slight change in his -appearance or voice or manner, it will be put down to his illness. It -will cinch the whole thing as nothing else could. You've got to go -through with it, Mayor." - -Mr. Black groaned again and relapsed into a dismal silence. - -Fortunately he did not have long to brood, nor Merriam long to work up -the nervousness which this dialogue had naturally renewed in him. In a -couple of minutes after the Mayor's second and more lamentable groan the -limousine stopped before the imposing entrance of the Urban Club. - -"Sit tight, Mayor!" Rockwell warned. - -Then the doorman of the Club opened the car, and Rockwell descended and -helped Aunt Mary out and Merriam and the Mayor followed. - -Inside their coats and the men's hats were quickly taken from them by -efficient checkroom boys, and they were guided immediately to the -elevator. The speeches had already begun upstairs, some one said. - -They stepped out into the hallway outside the Club's big dining room. -From inside came the noise of clapping. Some one had just finished -speaking. - -"This is our chance," said Rockwell, meaning doubtless that they could -best enter during the interlude between speeches. "Go ahead, Senator. -Take the Mayor's arm!" - -In a moment they were passing through a group of tuxedoed servants at -the door. Merriam was conscious of a large room in pleasant tones of -brown with a low raftered ceiling and many windows of small leaded -panes. The tables were arranged in the form of a great horseshoe, with -the closed end--the speakers' table--opposite the door. The horseshoe -was lined inside and out with guests, perhaps two hundred in all--men -who looked either distinguished or intelligent, occasionally both, and -women who were either distinguished or intelligent or beautiful--from -some points of view the great city's best. - -Then came the turning of many eyes to look at himself and Mayor Black, -and the toastmaster at the center of the speakers' table rose and called -to them: - -"Senator! Mayor! This way." - -He pointed to two empty chairs on either side of his own. - -Merriam nodded, and, still propelling the semi-comatose Black, circled -one side of the horseshoe, giving the line of guests as wide a berth as -he could, to avoid possible contretemps from personal greetings to which -he might be unable to make suitable response. - -Arrived at the speakers' table, he shook hands warmly with the -toastmaster--a bald, benevolent-looking man of much aplomb, whose name -he never learned--and with two or three other men from nearby -chairs--evidently personal acquaintances of Senator Norman's--who rose -to welcome him, making talk the while of apologies for being late. -Presently he found himself seated at the toastmaster's right, facing the -distinguished company. No one had betrayed any suspicion. The -imposture was, in fact, as Rockwell had said, so bold as to be -unthinkable. - -Mayor Black had meanwhile been seated at the toastmaster's left, and -Rockwell and Aunt Mary had been guided to two vacant seats at the left -end of the speakers' table. The necessity of greeting friends had -somewhat roused the Mayor, who had found his tongue and managed to -respond, though for him haltingly. - -The toastmaster leaned towards Merriam and whispered: - -"You're to speak last, Senator. Colonel Edwards is next, then Mayor -Black, then you." - -With that he rose and felicitated the company on the arrival of the two -distinguished servants of the City and the Nation between whom he now -had the honour to sit. - -He then introduced Colonel Edwards, a stout, quite unmilitary-looking -gentleman, who was earnestly interested and mildly interesting on the -subject of good roads for the space of fifteen minutes. - -Merriam's attention was distracted almost at the beginning of Colonel -Edwards' speech by the arrival at the entrance of the dining room, now -directly opposite him, of the second taxi-load from the hotel. Alicia -caught Merriam's eye and smiled at him mischievously. Evidently she was -enjoying the situation to the full. Mollie June, on the other hand, -though deliciously crowned with a small blossomy hat of obvious -expensiveness, was entirely grave, her eyes fixed almost too steadily -and too anxiously on our youthful hero, where he sat in the seats of the -mighty, outwardly at least as much at ease as if he had been accustomed -for thirty years to find himself at the speakers' table of historic -clubs. - -Colonel Edwards suddenly sat down. He was one of those rare public -speakers who occasionally disconcert their audiences by stopping when -they are through. - -The toastmaster gasped, but rose to his feet and the occasion and called -upon Mayor Black. - -As the Mayor slowly rose Merriam was most uncomfortably -anxious--uncertain whether the city's chief executive was even yet -sufficiently master of himself to face an audience successfully. But -Mr. Black was one of those gentlemen, not uncommon in public life, who -are apparently more at ease before an audience than in any other -situation. His great mellow voice boomed forth, and Merriam relaxed. -That speech was hardly, perhaps, one of the Mayor's masterpieces. But -that mattered little, of course. He produced an admirably even flow of -head tones. It _sounded_ like a perfectly good speech. - -Merriam, at any rate, was quite oblivious of any lack of strict logical -coherence in the Mayor's remarks. He was suddenly smitten by the -realisation that his own turn came next. For a moment he fought a panic -of blankness, then mentally grabbed at the opening sentences of what he -had so carefully committed during the morning. Outwardly serene and -attentive to the speaker, inwardly he hastily rehearsed his first half -dozen paragraphs, and, winking his eyes somewhat rapidly perhaps, fixed -the outline of the rest of it in his mind. - -The Mayor rose to a climax of thunderous tone and eloquent gesture and -sat. Loud applause followed. - -Across the clapping hands Merriam glanced at Mr. Wayward and Alicia and -Mollie June where they sat at one side of the horseshoe. The other two -were clapping, but Mollie June was not. He thought she looked pale, but -of course he was too far away to be sure. "She is afraid for me," he -thought, and gratitude for her interest mingled with a fine resolve to -show her that she had no cause for fear--that he would give a good -account of himself anywhere--for her. - -The glow of that resolution carried him through the ordeal of the -toastmaster's introduction and brought him to his feet with smiling -alacrity at the proper moment. - -The applause was hearty. There is magic still, strange as it may seem, -in the word "senator." He was forced to bow again and again. - -Then he struck into his speech--Aunt Mary's speech. He found himself -letter-perfect. He had at least half his mind free to attend to his -delivery. He gave it slowly, impressively, grandly facing first one part -of his audience and then another. George Norman himself before packed -galleries in the Senate Chamber at Washington had never done better. And -it was a good speech, deftly conceived, clearly reasoned, aptly worded. -Merriam himself in all his morning's study of it had not realised how -perfectly it was adapted to the occasion and the audience. Down at the -far end of the speakers' table, the female author of it sat unnoticed, -watching with tight-pressed lips its effect; her only right to be there, -if any one had asked you, the accident of her relationship to the -wonderful Senator. - -He reached the end. As he rounded out the last sentence his eyes rested -triumphantly for a second on Mollie June. Whether or not her cheeks had -been pale before, they were flushed now. He sat down. - -The room rocked. The applause this time was no mechanical reaction. It -was an ovation. The toastmaster leaped to his feet with ponderous -agility and grabbed for Merriam's hand. The latter found himself -standing, the center of a group of excited men, all of whom he must -pretend to know, overwhelming him with congratulations. - -Behind him he caught a remark that was doubtless not intended for his -ears: "How the devil does he keep his youthful looks and fire? He might -be twenty-five!" - -Then Rockwell charged into the group, excited himself, but persistent -with the formula, "Pressing engagement," and got him out of the room, -and into the elevator, and through the hallway on the first floor, with -his hat and coat restored, and into the limousine, which darted away for -the hotel. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXV* - - *SECOND COUNCIL OF WAR* - - -Merriam and Rockwell were alone in the Senator's car. - -Merriam leaned back against the cushions and closed his eyes. He was at -once fatigued and excited. It almost seemed to him that he was still -addressing the Urban Club. Then he seemed to be talking still but to a -single auditor--a girl with flushed cheeks and eyes that shone with -excited pride. - -He opened his eyes. Rockwell was regarding him steadily. "I don't -wonder you feel done up," he said. "It was splendid, my boy. You spoke -like a veteran. You ought to go into public life on your own. Perhaps -you will." He seemed to meditate. Then: "You saw Crockett, I suppose?" - -"No!" exclaimed Merriam. - -"Didn't you? He was seated six places to your right at the speakers' -table. Right in line with you, of course. Not strange you missed him. -Just as well, perhaps. It might have shaken even _your_ nerve." - -The phrase "even _your_ nerve" was pleasant praise to Merriam. He had -never thought of himself as possessed of any exceptional _sang froid_. -But perhaps he had behaved with rather creditable composure in a trying -situation. - -"_He_ was shaken, I can tell you," Rockwell was saying. "Lord, I was on -pins! I didn't know but what when you rose to speak he would jump up -and denounce you. But not he. He simply lay back and stared and kept -moistening his lips. I suppose he couldn't make up his mind for sure -whether you were the Senator or the double or whether he himself had -gone crazy or not. We'll hear from him, though," he added reflectively. - -"I suppose so," said Merriam wearily. "I wish to Heaven we were clean -through the thing!" That feeling had come suddenly, and for the moment -he meant it, though he was having the time of his life. - -"So do I," said Rockwell heartily. "But we're not. Not by a long shot. -So you must buck up. Here's the hotel. You shall have a real meal now. -That'll put heart into you again." - -The machine stopped, and the door was opened. - -"Quick time, now!" Rockwell whispered. - -Senator Norman and his new political manager, Mr. Rockwell of the Reform -League, rushed almost precipitately into the lobby of the Hotel De Soto -and made a bee line for the nearest elevator. It was obvious that -important business urgently called them, for they merely nodded -hurriedly in response to several cordial salutations. - -As the elevator shot up Rockwell leaned heavily against the side of the -car, took off his hat, though there was no one with them, drew a deep -breath, and comically winked both eyes at Merriam. - -"What a life!" he ejaculated. - -Stepping out at Floor Three, they were greeted by the spectacle of Dr. -Hobart bending over the floor clerk's desk and evidently having a -delightful tete-a-tete with the handsome young mistress of that sanctum, -whose eyes were coquettishly raised to his, though her head was slightly -bent--for she was smelling an American Beauty rose. A large vase of the -same expensive flowers adorned one corner of her desk. - -Only a momentary glimpse did Merriam and Rockwell have of this pretty -tableau, for Dr. Hobart at once straightened up as if in some -embarrassment and came towards them. - -"I was just thinking it was about time for you to be back," he said, -though he surely did not expect them to believe that he had just been -thinking anything of the sort. - -The pretty floor clerk, no whit nonplused, bowed and smiled at Rockwell. -But she studiously failed to observe Senator Norman's presence. - -Dr. Hobart walked down the hall with them. - -"How's Norman?" Rockwell asked. - -"No better, I'm afraid," said the physician apologetically. "He has a -high fever, and a while ago he was slightly delirious. I had to give -him more of the drug. He's sleeping again now. Simpson is with him, of -course." - -"Damn!" said Rockwell, with a sort of deliberate earnestness. - -They reached the sitting room and entered it. There was no one there. -Simpson was apparently in the Senator's bedroom. Merriam dropped into a -chair and closed his eyes again. Rockwell walked across to a window and -stood staring out. Dr. Hobart stopped uncertainly in the middle of the -room and fiddled with a cigarette without being able to make up his mind -to light it. For several moments none of them spoke. - -But Rockwell was not the man to remain long in any apathy of inaction. -He turned suddenly, and Merriam, whom the prolonged unnatural silence -had caused to open his eyes, saw that he had made up his mind to -something. - -"Hobart," he said, "I suppose Simpson isn't practically necessary in -there." He indicated the sick room. - -"N-no," said Dr. Hobart, "I suppose not. He's just watching. Norman -will sleep soundly for some time." - -"Then ask him to come here, will you?" - -The physician disappeared into the bedroom and in a moment returned with -Simpson. - -"Simpson," said Rockwell, "we're going to have a meal here, for nine -people. A luncheon, if you like. But make it hearty. Choose the stuff -yourself, and serve it as quickly as you can, please." - -For a moment Simpson stared. Then, as if remembering a nearly forgotten -cue, he replied submissively, "Yes, sir," and turned to the door. - -As that door closed behind Simpson, Merriam suddenly stood up. - -"I must send a telegram to Riceville," he said, starting for the writing -table for a blank. - -"Wait a bit," said Rockwell. "You can send it just as well an hour from -now." - -Merriam was disposed to argue, but just then the rest of their party -trooped in, having returned to the hotel in Mayor Black's car. - -Alicia walked straight up to Merriam, gay with enthusiasm, caught his -hand, and squeezed it. - -"My dear boy," she cried, "it was perfectly splendid! I've half a mind -to kiss you!" - -"Please do," said Merriam. - -"I will," said Alicia promptly, and before the young man could realise -what was happening she had put her gloved hands on his shoulders and -kissed him on one cheek. - -Merriam was vastly astonished. In the circles in which he had moved in -Riceville or even at college, his remark could have been taken only as a -daring pleasantry. But he undoubtedly had _sang froid_, for he -concealed his confusion, or most of it, and said: - -"Let me turn the other cheek." - -"Oh, I mustn't be a pig," said Alicia. "I'll leave the other cheek for -Mollie June." - -At this Merriam's confusion became, I fear, perfectly apparent, for the -remainder of the party had followed Alicia into the room and were -grouped about him. - -"Kiss him quick, Mollie dear," said the incorrigible Alicia, thereby -causing confusion in a second person present. - -But Mayor Black, no longer to be restrained, saved the situation. He -seized Merriam's hand and pumped it. - -"One of the best speeches I ever heard the Senator make!" he asserted, -in tones which Merriam feared might rouse the real Senator in the -adjoining room. - -Mr. Wayward meanwhile was patting him on the back and murmuring, "Fine! -Excellent!" - -Merriam turned to Aunt Mary: - -"I tried to do it justice," he said. - -"You gave it exceedingly well," said Aunt Mary, with less reserve than -he had ever seen her exhibit before. - -"Indeed you did!" cried Mollie June earnestly, her eyes shining with -sincerity. - -And that tribute, from the least qualified judge of them all, was, I -regret to state, the one which young Merriam treasured the most. - -Simpson, who had worked with amazing alacrity, and even inspired his -assistants to celerity had completed his preparations and announced that -he was ready to serve the luncheon. - -Rockwell delayed the meal for several minutes the sake of an apparently -important conference into which he had drawn Mr. Wayward and the Mayor -over by the window. - -Presently, however, they all sat down, with Merriam beside Mollie June. -The luncheon passed, as luncheons do, in small talk and anecdote. - -At last Rockwell, having finished the last morsel of a piece of French -pastry, laid down his fork and fixed his eyes significantly on Mr. -Wayward, who was in mid-career with something like his fifteenth -anecdote. Mr. Wayward faltered but rallied and finished his story. It -was the best one he had told, but there was only perfunctory laughter. -Every one about the table was looking at Rockwell, realising that at -last the great question that was in all their minds, "What are we to do -next?" was to be discussed and decided. Simpson, it should be added, -had dismissed his assistants as soon as the dessert course was served, -so that only the initiated were present. - -Three times during the meal Dr. Hobart had left the table to enter the -sick room. On the second occasion he had remained away some minutes. -Rockwell now turned to him. - -"Give us your report, Doctor," he said abruptly. - -"Well," replied the physician, "he is better. Half an hour ago he was -awake for perhaps five minutes. His temperature is lower, though he -still has some fever. He is sleeping again now, more quietly than at -any time since he returned to the hotel. In short, he is doing as well -as could be expected. But it is out of the question for him to start on -that speech-making tour this evening." - -"Undoubtedly," said Aunt Mary, with much decision. - -"Just so," said Rockwell. "That being the case, two alternatives -present themselves: to announce his illness and call off the trip, or to -go on playing the game as we have begun, with Mr. Merriam's help." - -Merriam gasped and opened his mouth to protest, but Rockwell waved him -down. - -"The Mayor and Mr. Wayward and I have been discussing the matter. At -first blush, there may seem to be little question as to which of these -two courses we should pursue. Having come safely--so far as we know at -least--through all the perils of discovery thus far, it may seem that we -should tempt fortune no further, but let Mr. Merriam return to his -school, publish the fact of the Senator's illness, and cancel the -speaking engagements." - -"Surely yes," interjected Merriam, and Aunt Mary and Father Murray and -Mollie June and even Alicia seemed to assent. - -"On further consideration," Rockwell continued imperturbably, "I think -you will all see that the thing is not so clear. The course I have just -suggested may be--doubtless is--the more prudent one, if prudence were -all, but it is decidedly unfair to George Norman." - -At this Aunt Mary almost visibly pricked up her ears. - -"In his name," Rockwell went on, "we have thrown over the conservative -wing of the party, with whom he has always stood and who have supported -him--have 'betrayed' them, as they will put it, in this traction matter -and in aligning him with the Reform League. We did so on the theory -that he was to appeal to the people and to come back stronger than ever -as the leader of the new and growing progressive element, which is sure -to be dominant in the next election if only they can find such a leader -as Norman could be. But if we cancel this trip and let him drop out of -the campaign, if we stop now, where will he be? He will have lost his -old backers and will not have made new ones. He will be politically -dead. We shall have played absolutely into the hands of Crockett and -Thompson and the rest of the gang, and shall have accomplished nothing -but the political ruin of George Norman." - -All the persons about the table except Mayor Black and Mr. Wayward -stared hard at Rockwell as this new view of their predicament sank into -their minds. The Mayor and Mr. Wayward smiled and nodded and watched -the effect on the others. Particularly they watched Merriam, who sat -dumfounded and vaguely alarmed. What new entanglements was Rockwell -devising for him? He must get back to Riceville. Involuntarily--he -could not have said why--he cast a quick glance at Mollie June, and -encountered a similar glance from her. They both looked away in -confusion. - -Aunt Mary spoke: - -"Tell us your plan." - -It was like her--that masterful acceptance, without comment, of the -situation. - -"My plan, as you call it," said Rockwell, fixing his eyes not on Aunt -Mary but on Merriam, "is simply that we should go on for another day or -two as we have begun--play the game for George until he can take the -cards in his own hands. This is Thursday. He is scheduled to leave -this evening for Cairo, to speak there at nine o'clock to-morrow -morning, to go on to East St. Louis for a talk before the Rotary Club at -noon, and then up to Springfield for an address in the evening. Is that -correct?" - -"Yes," said Aunt Mary. "And he was to speak in Bloomington and Peoria -on Saturday and in Moline and Freeport on Sunday." - -"The speeches are all ready, I believe?" - -"Yes. George and I outlined them together some time ago, and I have -them written and typed." - -"Exactly. Turn the manuscripts over to Mr. Merriam as you did this -morning. He will have time on the train on the way to each place to -master the speech to be given at that point. We shall take a special -car. Mr. Wayward and I will go with him. You"--he was addressing Aunt -Mary--"and the Mayor and Dr. Hobart--and Simpson," he added, glancing up -at the waiter, who stood listening in the background,--"and the rest of -you will stay here to guard George. That will be easy when the -newspapers are full of his speeches out in the State." - -"Mr. Crockett will know," said Father Murray timidly. - -"He may suspect," said Rockwell with a grin. "But if you keep every one -away from George--conceal his presence here,--he can't be sure whether -it's George himself or his double who is speech-making over the State. -And if he were sure, he wouldn't dare denounce him. Thanks to Mr. -Merriam's clever trick last night, he has a particularly strong reason -for keeping his mouth shut. If on the other hand we give up and lie -down--cancel the trip,--he can easily start all manner of nasty stories -about his escapades. I'm sorry to say it, but George has a pretty -widespread sporting reputation." Rockwell glanced apologetically at -Mollie June, but continued. "When a man with such a character is laid -up, people are ready to believe anything except that he is really -legitimately sick. Things will be safer here than they would be if we -abandoned our trick. And our part out in the State will be 'nuts,' -compared to what it was at the Urban Club this noon, for instance. Very -few people out there know Norman well. There is no question at all that -Mr. Merriam will get by. And we know from this noon that he will make -the speeches in fine shape." - -"The speeches will need to be altered a bit," said Aunt Mary, "if they -are to appeal to the progressives." - -"Mr. Merriam can attend to that on the train," said Rockwell. "Soften -the standpattism and throw in some progressive dope. Can't you?" He -appealed to Merriam. - -"I suppose I could," said Merriam, "but--my school." - -"I know," said Rockwell, "but it will be only a day or two longer. -We'll telegraph again, of course. If you were really sick, as we've -been telling them, they'd have to get along, wouldn't they? You've got -to see us through. We must keep the ball rolling. It will probably be -only one more day. George will be able to travel to-morrow, I presume?" -he asked of Dr. Hobart. "By noon, anyway?" - -"By noon, I hope," said the physician with cheerful optimism. - -"You see?" said Rockwell. "George can catch the noon train for -Springfield and get there in time to take on the evening speech. Mr. -Merriam will have made the two at Cairo and East St. Louis. He can go -back to Riceville from Springfield." - -Just then the telephone rang, and I believe every person in the room -jumped. - -Rockwell rose to answer it. - -"Senator Norman? Yes, he is here. But he is engaged. This is Mr. -Rockwell, his manager. You can give the message to me." - -A moment later he put his hand over the receiver and turned to Merriam. - -"He insists on speaking to the Senator. You'll have to answer. I think -it's Crockett. For Heaven's sake, be careful!" - -Merriam took the receiver: - -"Hello!" - -A voice which he remembered only too well from the night before at -Jennie's replied: - -"This is Mr. Crockett, I have the honour, I believe, of speaking to Mr. -Merriam." - -"You have the wrong number!" said Merriam and hung up. - -But before he had had time to explain to the others or even to wonder -whether he had done wisely, the bell jangled again. He turned back to -the instrument. Rockwell came quickly to his side, and Merriam, taking -down the receiver, held it so that his "manager" too should be able to -hear what came over the wire. - -"Hello!" - -"Ah! Senator Norman, by your voice," said Crockett in tones of -elaborate irony. "I wish to congratulate you, Senator, on your speech -this noon. It was a magnificent effort. So full of progressive ideas -and youthful virility!" - -"Thank you," said Merriam. - -"And, Senator, I really must see you right away. I am calling from the -lobby. I will come up to your rooms at once, if I may. Or meet you -anywhere else you say. It is of the utmost importance to you, Mr. -Mer----" (he pretended to correct himself) "to you, Senator, as well as -to me." - -"Wait a minute," said Merriam. He put his hand over the mouthpiece and -looked at Rockwell. - -"Tell him you will see him at eight o'clock this evening, here." - -Merriam repeated this message. - -"At _eight_?" said Crockett, with significant emphasis on the hour. -"Very good, Senator. Thank you." He hung up. - -Rockwell and Merriam turned to the others. Aunt Mary and the rest had -risen. They were standing by their places about the table, looking -rather scared. - -"_Eight_ o'clock?" questioned Aunt Mary, with an emphasis similar to -Crockett's. - -"Yes," said Rockwell doggedly. "Because"--he addressed Merriam--"your -train goes at seven. At seven-thirty Miss Norman shall telephone -Crockett, expressing your regret that you overlooked the fact that you -would have to be gone by that time. Man alive!" he cried. "Don't you -see? The Senator can't be sick now--after your public appearance this -noon. Half the people who count in Chicago saw you--him, there--right -as a trivet--obviously perfectly well. And we can't keep _you_ here, -with Crockett and Thompson continually nosing 'round. There's nothing -for it but for you to start on that trip. The trip's a godsend. Write -your telegram to Riceville!" - -Merriam glanced around the circle of faces. Mad as the thing was, they -all seemed to agree with Rockwell. Mayor Black and Mr. Wayward and even -Simpson seemed to be asking him, as man to man, to stand by them. -Father Murray was timidly expectant. Dr. Hobart, he noticed, was -staring down at the table as if in thought. Aunt Mary, looking him full -in the eyes, gave an affirmative nod. Alicia's eyes and shoulders -registered appeal as conspicuously as if she had been a movie actress. -And Mollie June seemed to be begging him not to desert her. - -With a gesture of resignation he went over to the writing table and sat -down to compose his third mendacious telegram to Riceville. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVI* - - *THE BUSINESS OF BEING AN IMPOSTOR* - - -The writing of that telegram occupied Merriam for several minutes. He -was distracted by scruples. He did not like lying, and he felt, truly -enough, that he was cheating his employers, the Board of Education of -Riceville, and the patrons of the school, and his boys and girls, by -staying away from the work he was paid to do. - -When, after a last momentary hesitation, he wrote his name and looked -up, he found Simpson standing by him, ready to take the message. He -noticed the man's new air of cheerfulness. - -But he had no time to reflect on this phenomenon, for the party was -breaking up. - -There were four of them left--Merriam and Rockwell, Aunt Mary and Mollie -June. - -"Well," said Rockwell, with a sigh, "we're off again. You'd better go -to your own room--Mr. Wilson's room. I promised the reporters to see -them at half past four, and it's nearly that now. You'll need to pack. -Take these speeches with you. I'll let you know when the taxi comes." - -In a moment Merriam was crossing the Senator's room. Involuntarily he -cast a glance at the sick man in the bed. In a small chair by the head -of the bed Mollie June was sitting, her eyes on her husband. She looked -up as Merriam traversed the room, met his gaze soberly for an instant, -and then looked back at Norman. - -Merriam passed through the door on the other side into his own room. He -closed the door softly behind him, set the portfolio on a chair, and put -his hand to his forehead. The tiny connubial tableau of which he had -just had a glimpse had brought home to him, as nothing before had done, -the fact that Mollie June really was another man's wife. The acute -realisation left him blank. He crossed over, sank into a chair by the -window, and stared out across the fire escape. Another man's wife! And -he loved her. Of course he loved her, just as he had always done. And -she loved him, a little at least. That such a thing should happen to -him--and her! Because he had been a coward three years ago in -Riceville! - -How long he sat dully revolving such thoughts as these he had no idea. -He was startled by the opening of the door from the Senator's bedroom. -He sprang to his feet with the involuntary thought that it might be -Mollie June--though of course she would have knocked. It was Simpson. - -"Shall I pack your things, sir?" - -"Why--yes," said Merriam. - -He knew from novels that the valet of the hero always packs his bag. -Evidently Simpson had come in this capacity. To Merriam's American -self-sufficiency it seemed an absurd practice. Why shouldn't any man -put his own things into a grip for himself? But he was glad of company. - -"You can help," he added, and took a couple of steps in the direction of -the bureau, with the idea of taking things out of drawers. - -"Oh, don't bother, sir!" said Simpson quickly. In his tone there was -something subtly patronising. For he who has been a butler and a waiter -and a valet among the real elite feels even himself to be socially -superior to the unbutlered and unvaleted. - -"Simpson," said Merriam suddenly, "you've seen Jennie!" - -Simpson stopped absolutely still for a moment with a couple of folded -shirts in his hands. Then he placed the shirts in the suit case, -straightened up, and looked at Merriam. - -"Yes, Mr."--he hesitated and decided to use the real name--"yes, Mr. -Merriam, I have. I went out there this morning, as you suggested." - -"She let you in?" - -"Yes she did. She let me sit down on the sofa with her, and we had a -long talk. I ended by asking her again to marry me--and she said she -would." - -"And she kissed you!" Merriam cried gaily. He had for the moment -forgotten his own troubles in Simpson's happiness, for which he rightly -felt he might claim some credit, and in an appreciative recollection of -Jennie's temperament. Within a dozen hours she had also kissed Crockett -and himself. But Jennie was born to kiss. - -Simpson looked quickly at the younger man and returned to his packing. -"Yes," he said, "she did." - -Merriam regretted his exclamation, which had, in fact, told too much. -For several minutes he watched in silence the deft, efficient work of -his companion. Then he asked: - -"When is it to be?" - -"The wedding, sir?" - -"Yes." - -"As soon as you and Mr. Rockwell can spare me, sir." - -Simpson closed the hand bag, closed the suit case and strapped it. - -"Is there anything else I can do, sir?" - -"I believe not." - -The waiter hesitated. Then he decided to speak what was in his heart: - -"I am very greatly indebted to you, sir," he said, with an admirable -combination of dignity and feeling. "You have made a happy man of a -very wretched one and have--saved a young girl who was on a very wrong -track. If ever I can render you any service, you can always command me, -sir." - -Merriam sprang up and advanced, holding out his hand. - -"I'm tremendously glad," he said. "I have accomplished one thing anyway -with all this miserable imposture." - -Simpson shook his hand heartily. Then: - -"Shall I leave you now, sir?" - -"Why, yes, please," said Merriam. He was loth, to be left alone, but -there was clearly nothing more to be said between him and Simpson. - -In a moment the waiter had withdrawn through the door into the Senator's -bedroom. Merriam's thoughts followed him into that room, where Mollie -June doubtless still sat by her husband's bed. - -But just then a knock sounded at the hall door. He looked up startled. -He was not expecting any one to approach from that direction. Who could -have any business with "Mr. Wilson"? - -Another knock. Merriam hesitated. Should he go to the door, or simply -sit tight till the knocker became convinced that there was no one within -and went away? He decided upon the latter course. Any one whom he ought -to see Rockwell would bring to him. - -A third time the knock sounded, discreet but persistent. Then suddenly -a key was inserted in the lock and turned, the door opened, and in -stepped--Crockett! - -Merriam sprang to his feet but did not speak. - -"Thank you," said Crockett over his shoulder--to whom Merriam could not -see. - -He closed the door and advanced: - -"Is it Mr. Wilson?" he asked ironically, "or Mr. Merriam--or Senator -Norman?" - -"Is it Mr. Crockett, the financier, or a house-breaker?" Merriam -retorted. - -Mr. Crockett laughed, but it was an unpleasant, forced laugh. - -"Since you do not answer my question," he said, "I don't see that I need -answer yours. See here," he continued, with a change of tone, "how much -is it worth to you to turn over to me those pictures you took last -night--films and all, of course--and get out of this?" - -"You won't accomplish anything by insulting me!" cried Merriam, a flare -of youthful anger somewhat impairing his dignity. - -"Insulting you!" echoed Crockett sneeringly. "My dear sir, as a complete -impostor you can hardly expect to get away with that pose. I'll admit -you're good at it. That impersonation of the Senator before the Urban -Club this noon was a masterpiece. But what's the game? Does Rockwell -really suppose he can swing Senator Norman over permanently to the -so-called Reformers? Let me tell you that as soon as the real Norman is -on his feet again Thompson and I and the rest of us will get hold of him -and bring him around in no time. We know too many things about your -handsome Boy Senator. He can't shake us now. So what's the use? -Unless," he added suddenly, "the plan is to kill him off and substitute -you permanently!" - -"Hardly so desperate as that," said Merriam, smiling. The other man's -long speech had given him time to recover himself. - -"Well, then, why not make a good thing out of it for yourself and get -away while you can? It isn't as if no one had suspected you. _I_ not -only suspect but know. I haven't told any one else yet, but you can -hardly expect me to keep your secret indefinitely." - -"You forget the pictures," said Merriam, as sweetly as he could. - -Crockett obviously mastered a "damn" and chased the expression that rose -to accompany it from his face. - -"Let's keep to business," he said. "How much is Rockwell paying you for -this job?" - -"No monetary consideration has been mentioned between us," said Merriam. -It was the truth, of course, but perhaps he need not have been so -stilted about it. - -"You surely don't expect me to believe that. Come! Whatever the amount -is, I'll double it. All I ask of you is, first, to hand over to me the -pictures, and, second, to pick up your bags, which I see are already -packed, and walk out of that door with me. We'll step across the street -to my bank, I'll pay you the sum in cash, and you can skidoo. No -exposure is involved, you see--of you or your friends. I'm not -revengeful. I don't need to be. All I have to do is to wait until I can -get hold of Norman. In the meantime you get clear of a situation that -otherwise is likely to prove very nasty for you personally and very -nasty likewise for your Reformer associates. You will note that I trust -to your honour to give me all the copies of the pictures and not to -sting me on the amount I am to pay you." - -"Honour among thieves?" queried Merriam. - -"Who's insulting now?" Crockett demanded. - -"I am," said Merriam. "At least, I'm trying my best to be. Mr. -Crockett, you spoke of walking out of that door. I'll thank you to do -that very thing--at once! If you don't, I'll call in Mr. Rockwell, and -we'll put you out. I'm tempted to try it by myself, but I don't care to -risk any noisy scuffling." - -"Prudent young man!" sneered Crockett, retreating nevertheless in the -direction of the hall door. "I understand that you reject my offer?" - -"I certainly do." - -"Very good. I hereby serve notice on you that I shall immediately -expose the whole of your atrocious masquerade! It will be the ruin of -you and Rockwell and Norman and Mayor Black and every other person who -has been mixed up in it. Oh, you'll be a nine days' wonder in the city, -but no one of you will ever have a scrap of public credit again!" - -"And on the following day," retorted Merriam, "those pretty pictures we -know of will be published in _Tidbits_. They'll be running sketches -called 'A Financier in a Flat' in every music hall in town." - -"You blackmailer!" - -"On the contrary you've tried to get me to take blackmail and I've -refused it." - -With a sound remarkably like the snarling "bah" which regularly -accompanies the retreat of the foiled villain of melodrama, Crockett -turned towards the door through which he had been invited to depart. -But in the course of the three or four steps which he had to take to -reach, that exit he recovered something of his dignity and finesse. - -Having opened the door, he turned and bowed ironically. - -"Good evening, Senator," he said. "I'm afraid I shall be prevented from -keeping my appointment with you at eight. If you should change your -mind within the next half hour, you can reach me by 'phone at the Union -League. Otherwise, look out!" - -On this warning note he closed the door behind him. - -Merriam found himself with a whirling brain. As a quiet pedagogue he was -not accustomed to scenes of battle such as he had just passed through. -He walked up and down and mechanically lit a cigarette. - -As he did so, his mind seized upon one question. Who had unlocked the -door for Crockett? Some chambermaid or bell boy? Or the floor clerk? -At any rate it must have been done with her connivance and by her -authority, for she was the commanding general of Floor Three. Why had -she done or permitted this outrageous thing? Suddenly Merriam recalled -her studied ignoring of him on the last two occasions of his passing her -desk, and compared it with her whispered "The violets are lovely" when -he first asked for Senator Norman's key. There had been something -between her and Norman. He, Merriam, in taking on the Senator's role -had dropped out that part of it, and she was offended. How seriously he -could not tell. - -He concluded that he must attempt to reinstate himself--Norman--in the -pretty floor clerk's good graces, and rather hastily decided upon a -plan, He went to the telephone and asked for the hotel florist. How -much were violets? Well, they had some lovely large bunches for five -dollars. This figure rather staggered the rural pedagogue, but he -promptly asked to have one of those bunches sent up at once to "Mr. -Wilson," giving his room number, 325. He would present his peace -offering in person. "I am sure these flowers will look lovely on your -desk--or if you will wear them at your waist?" he would say, or -something of the sort. This was probably not the way Senator Norman -would have done--he would have run no such open risk,--but we must make -allowances for Merriam's inexperience. - -But he never carried out his ill-conceived plan. For he had barely left -the telephone when he was arrested by a light knock on the door leading -into the Senator's bedroom. This time he was sure it was Mollie June, -and he was right. - -When he opened the door she stood there with a finger at her lips. - -"Aunt Mary has taken my place with George," she said in a low tone. -"She says I may give you some tea. It will be late before you can get -your dinner on the train. Would you like it?" - -"Tremendously," said Merriam sincerely. - -"Come into the sitting room, then." - -She crossed the sick room to the door at the other side which led to the -sitting room, and he followed, with a nod to Aunt Mary, who now sat by -the sleeping Senator's bed. - -Arrived in the sitting room, he was further delighted to find that -neither Rockwell nor Simpson was present. It was to be a genuine -tete-a-tete. By one of the windows stood a small table with the tea -things upon it, the kettle already singing over an alcohol flame. -Beside the table stood a large armchair and a small rocker. - -"The big chair is for you," said Mollie June, seating herself in the -rocker and adjusting the flame. - -"Thank you," he said and sat. Then a mingling of pleasure and -embarrassment held him awkwardly silent. - -Mollie June was apparently quite composed. - -"George is ever so much better," she said. "He was awake a few minutes -ago, and he seemed almost well. He has only a very little fever left." - -She smiled brightly at Merriam, who dimly realised that it was to the -fact that her mind was now at ease about her husband that he owed this -treat. - -Mollie June set a brightly flowered cup on a saucer to match and placed -a small spoon beside it. Then she took up the sugar tongs, and her hand -hovered over the bowl. - -"One lump or two?" - -"Two, please," said Merriam, noting the slenderness and whiteness of the -fingers that held the tongs and the pinkness of the small nails. (Why -else except to display charming fingers and nails were sugar tongs -invented?) - -"Lemon or cream?" - -Merriam was sophisticated enough to know that the right answer was -"Lemon," but he preferred cream, and an admirable instinct of honesty -led him to say so. - -Through the open window came the pleasant air of the spring afternoon. -The canyon-like street without, being an east-and-west street, was -flooded with sunlight. With the breeze there entered also the -stimulating roar of the city's lively traffic. The breeze stirred -Mollie June's soft wavy hair. It also caused the alcohol flame under -the brass kettle to flutter and sputter, and Mollie June leaned forward -to regulate it. The youthful firmness of her cheeks and chin showed -like a lovely cameo in the bright light, which would have been unkind to -an older face. Having adjusted the flame, she suddenly looked up at -Merriam and smiled. - -"Mollie June," he cried, "there is nothing lovelier in the world than -your eyes when you look up and smile like that!" - -He had not meant to say anything of that sort, but it was forced out of -him. - -Mollie June's smile lingered, and the cameo became faintly, charmingly -tinted. But she evidently felt that some rebuke was needed. - -"_Mrs._ Mollie June, you must remember," she said gently. - -Then, taking up her cup and leaning back in her small rocker, she asked: - -"How did you get along with the speeches?" - -"Not very well," said Merriam. He hesitated in his mind whether to tell -her of Crockett's interruption but decided not to. It would take too -long--he could not waste the precious minutes so. "I'll have the dickens -of a time with them," he added. - -"Oh, no, you won't!" she cried, as if shocked at the idea. "You were -wonderful this noon. I was so proud of you." - -"You had a right to be," said Merriam. "It was because you were there -that I could do well." Which was perhaps partially true. - -"Why don't you go into it yourself?" asked Mollie June. - -"Public life? Perhaps I will. I may go back to the University for a -law course and then try to get into politics." - -This plan had just occurred to Merriam, but he did not disclose that -fact. In uttering one's inspirations to a pretty woman one usually -presents them as though they were the fruit of mature consideration. - -"That would be fine," said Mollie June without much enthusiasm. "But -you'll be at Riceville next year?" - -"I suppose so. I'll have to save up a bit more." - -"I may be at home for Christmas," she said. "I'll see you then." - -Merriam considered this painfully. - -"No," he said at last slowly. "I shan't be there. I shall be away for -the holidays." - -"You could stay over," said Mollie June, wonderingly reproachful. - -"I suppose I could. But I mustn't. Just to see you--publicly, is too -hard on me. And if I see you alone like this,--I say things I oughtn't -to--make love to you." - -Mollie June sat drooping, with downcast eyes, her cup in her lap. - -Suddenly he was on his knees beside her. He put his arms about her, to -the great peril of flowered china. - -"Mollie June!" he whispered. He softly kissed her cheek. - -She raised her eyes and looked deep into his. - -"John!" she whispered back, though she seemed to struggle not to do so. - -After a moment he smiled sadly and got to his feet. - -"I mustn't have any more tea," he said, as if that beverage was too -intoxicating, as indeed under the circumstances it was. - -Fortunately--since of all things what they needed was a -diversion,--Merriam at that moment became conscious of a portentous -knocking on a distant door. He realised that it was on the door to "Mr. -Wilson's" room and remembered. The flowers--for the floor clerk! - -He hurried to the hall and called the boy from the second door down the -corridor, where he was about to pound again. - -In a moment he reentered the room, bearing a lovely great bunch of -fragrant English violets--and thinking hard. But he was equal to the -emergency. - -He advanced to Mollie June, who stood now with her back to the window, -her slender form outlined against the light, her face in shadow. - -"I've never given you anything, Mollie June," he said. "These are for -you--and the sick room." He held them for her to smell. - -She took them from him, barely touching his hand as she did so, and -buried her face in them for a long minute. Then she raised her eyes to -him over them. - -"Thank you, Mr. John," she said with a sad smile. - -And just then Aunt Mary entered from the Senator's bedroom. - -"See what Mr. Merriam has ordered for George!" said Mollie June. "Isn't -he thoughtful?" - -"Very," said Aunt Mary, in her customary dry tone. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVII* - - *THE CODE TELEGRAM* - - -Rockwell had returned with Alicia. He briskly declared that it was time -to start for the train. Mayor Black, it appeared, was below in his car -and was going to the station with them. - -"I've told Simpson to take your bags down. Except the portfolio. You'd -better keep that in your own hands. What progress with the speeches?" - -"Not much," said Merriam. "But I shall have the whole evening on the -train. I'll get them." - -He crossed the sick room, where Dr. Hobart was now bending over the -Senator, apparently making an examination. He thrust the pile of -manuscripts back into the portfolio. Then, after a glance about the -room, reminiscent of his burglarious entry the night before, he caught -up his coat and hat and returned to the sitting room again. - -"Are we ready?" he asked of Rockwell. - -"Waiting for Hobart--for a final report on the Senator's condition." - -"Aren't you coming to the station with us, Mollie June?" Alicia was -saying. - -"No," said Mollie June, her eyes on a large bunch of violets which she -was arranging in a bowl. "I must stay with my husband." - -"But Aunt Mary will be here. I think she owes it to you to come with -us, don't you, Mr. Merriam?" - -"No," said Merriam, "I think she is right in staying." - -Alicia looked from him to Mollie June, then shrugged her shoulders and -turned to Rockwell, who was cautioning Aunt Mary--as if Aunt Mary ever -needed cautioning!--about maintaining the closest possible guard on the -Senator's rooms in their absence. - -Merriam moved to Mollie June's side. - -"I shan't see you again," he said. - -"No," said Mollie June. - -For a single moment she looked up from the flowers into his face. Her -eyes held tears, and she blushed slightly. In her look he read -unwilling love and shame. - -He would have moved away, impotently miserable, but her hand, which had -dropped to her side between them, suddenly touched his, closed in his -for an instant, and was withdrawn, leaving something--something very -small, cool, and fragile--a single violet. - -He understood, of course, that it was to be his souvenir of her, all he -could have of her, through the long years to come while she played out -her loathsome role as the wife of the dissipated Boy Senator and he -taught school at Riceville or--what did it matter what he did? - -His hand closed quickly on the violet, and he turned to face Dr. Hobart, -who was just entering from the sick room. - -The physician was highly reassuring. The Senator was doing very well -indeed. - -"He'll be able to meet us in Springfield, then, to-morrow night?" -demanded Rockwell. - -"I think he'll be well enough to do that," returned Hobart, with a -slight evasiveness which Rockwell and Merriam had occasion a few hours -later to recall with some vividness. But at the moment they scarcely -noticed it. - -"Good!" cried Rockwell. "We're off. No! Wait." - -He drew a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Aunt Mary. - -"This paper describes a simple form of code telegram. Use it in your -messages to us in regard to the Senator's progress and when and where he -is to join us. You'll wire at least once a day, of course." - -"Yes," said Aunt Mary, accepting the paper. - -Merriam shook hands with Aunt Mary. - -"I hope," she said, "that some day, after all this is over, we may be -able to have you visit us, when George can thank you for the inestimable -service you have rendered him." - -"I should be delighted," Merriam murmured, though he had no great mind -to be thanked by George Norman. - -Then he shook hands with Mollie June and met her eyes for a moment, but, -under the gaze of Aunt Mary and Rockwell and Alicia, "Good-bye," was all -he could say. - -"Good-bye. Thank you for--everything," she replied, and her eyes -followed his figure as Rockwell swept him from the room. - -The closing of the door of the Senator's sitting room upon Merriam -marked the beginning of a period of a dozen hours or more that was -utterly phantasmal and unreal to him both at the time and in his -recollection afterwards. He seemed to move and speak and act without -volition and without any clear realisation of what he was doing or why -he was doing it. - -After dinner with Rockwell and Mr. Wayward--an excellent meal served in -the private car by an amiable gentleman of colour, Merriam read the -speech which he was to deliver at Cairo in the morning, and then had to -pull himself together and commit that speech, but he did even this -mechanically. And finally to bed in his compartment, at first to a long, -uneasy dream, in which he appeared to be making an interminable speech -to an audience consisting of Mollie June, Jennie, an inattentive floor -clerk, Aunt Mary, and Simpson, and then to a heavy slumber, from which -he was roused with difficulty the next morning. - -In the morning it was the same way with him--everything dully unreal. -Breakfast. Going over the speech again. Then it was nine o'clock, and -the train was running into Cairo. A crowd at the station. A cheer or -two. He was being assisted into an automobile. A sort of procession -with a band through several blocks of streets to a small park. - -Merriam found himself sitting with Rockwell and Mr. Wayward and several -local notables in a band stand, with a considerable concourse of people -sitting and standing about on the grass below. Some native orator made a -short speech. A number by the band. Then the Mayor of Cairo was -effusively introducing Senator Norman. The Mayor sat down amid -applause. - -Merriam rose, advanced to the rail, and began on his speech. He felt -himself to be a sort of animated phonograph. The words which he had -learned the night before and reviewed that morning ran trippingly off -his tongue. His collegiate training and subsequent experience in public -speaking came to the aid of his subconscious self, which seemed to be -functioning with practically no direction from his higher centers. He -turned pleasantly as he spoke to face now one part of his circle of -auditors and now another. He suited his tone to the words in different -parts of the speech. He even achieved an occasional appropriate -gesture. - -At last he came to the end of what he had learned and stopped as the -phonograph stops when the end of a record is reached. And for a moment -he stood there by the rail, blank, at a loss--as a phonograph would have -stood. He had to rouse himself with a jerk of conscious attention -before he perceived that what he had to do next was to step back and sit -down. - -The applause was fairly satisfactory. The Mayor of Cairo leaned across -Rockwell to shake hands and congratulate him, and Mr. Wayward, on the -other side, patted his shoulder and said, "Good enough!" And the band -struck into a patriotic air. - -Merriam awoke. It was as if lights had been turned on and doors opened. -He realised that it was a bright, sunny morning, that a band was -playing, that he, John Merriam, was alive and young, and that he was -having a whimsically glorious adventure which he could not afford to -miss the joy of even if Mollie June was Senator Norman's wife. - -In this rejuvenated mood he joyously descended with the others from the -band stand and climbed into the automobile and lay back happily, between -Rockwell and the Cairo Mayor, to relish the slow processional -drive--still preceded by the band--back to the station. - -"Feeling better?" asked Rockwell, who had not failed to note his -previous lethargy. - -"Feeling fine!" he replied, and gave his attention to the scenery of -Cairo's Main Street and the crowds therein, waiting eagerly for a -glimpse of the remarkable Boy Senator. - -As the automobile passed close to the curb on turning a corner, Merriam -caught one remark: - -"He does look just like a young man!" - -The speaker was a decidedly pretty girl in a boldish sort of way. -Merriam sensed and seized upon the privileges of age. He leaned -forward: - -"Thank you, my dear," he said. "At least I'm young enough to know a -pretty girl when I see one." - -Which incident will serve to show that Merriam was really awake again. -Also, it probably won more votes for Senator Norman's party at the next -election than the whole of Aunt Mary's able speech as delivered by the -human phonograph a few minutes earlier. - -They reached the station and regained the private car. Merriam sank -into a wonderful armchair in the sitting room compartment, glanced about -him at the luxurious appointments, and lit a cigarette with gusto. - -"I shouldn't mind this riches-and-fame business for quite a while," he -thought. (Mollie June was for the time forgotten; thus it is with the -fickle male.) - -Rockwell had sat down in the next chair. Merriam made an effort of -memory. - -"East St. Louis next?" he asked. - -"Yes," said Rockwell. "We'll have to get at the speech as soon as the -train starts." - -Just then a small but vociferous urchin appeared in the door of the car. -His cap proclaimed him a telegraph messenger. - -"Telegram for Mr. Rockwell!" he shouted, as though Mr. Rockwell were -probably in the next county. - -Rockwell signed the book, and the lad slowly withdrew himself, taking -generous eyefuls of Rockwell, "Senator Norman," and the private car. As -he lingered with a last backward stare in the doorway, Merriam winked at -him, and the boy grinned and generously, democratically winked back. - -Turning from that wink to Rockwell, Merriam was startled. The man sat -limp with the telegram on his knee and a pencil in his hand. I will not -say he was pale, but certainly he was haggard. - -He handed the telegram to Merriam. - -Merriam tried to read it, but could make no sense at all. It was very -long but apparently a mere string of words with little intelligible -meaning. - -"What----?" he began. - -"It's code," said Rockwell. "I've underlined the words that count." - -Picking out the significant words by means of Rockwell's underlining, -Merriam read: - - -George kidnapped from rooms whereabouts unknown doctor disappeared -cancel trip return Mary. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVIII* - - *SIMPSON AS DETECTIVE* - - -A moment later Mr. Wayward, who had stopped at the station cigar stand -to replenish his stock of nicotine, rejoined them and was shown the -telegram. - -His first comment was profane. - -"We've got to go back," said Rockwell. "Now that they have Norman in -their power--for Crockett is behind this, of course,--they may denounce -us--may make Norman himself denounce us--any minute. They have no end -of a grip on him, and he has no great love for the role of Reformer -himself--nor for me. Our only hope is to get back to Chicago and find -him and get hold of him again." He jumped to his feet, "I must see the -station master at once." - -"Yes," said Mr. Wayward, "there's nothing else for it." - -Rockwell hastily departed to announce their changed plans to the station -master, and Merriam and Mr. Wayward looked at each other. The latter's -face had assumed the humorous smile which had been his expression -towards the whole affair from the beginning. - -"It's been a damn fool business all along," he said. - -"I suppose it has," said Merriam. - -"Good fun for you, though." Mr. Wayward lit a cigar. - -"Yes," Merriam assented. But he was thinking of something else. Back -to Chicago! The young rascal was realising that that meant he should -see Mollie June again. - -Mr. Wayward puffed meditatively. - -"'Doctor disappeared,'" he quoted from the telegram. "That means Hobart -was in it. Probably he was the chief agent. Crockett's bribed him." - -Merriam suddenly remembered the tableau which Rockwell and he had -surprised as they stepped out of the elevator at the Hotel De Soto on -the previous afternoon: Dr. Hobart in confidential conference with the -floor clerk. - -"Probably they bribed the floor clerk, too," he said. "Hobart seemed to -be sweet on her." - -"So?" said Mr. Wayward. And after a minutes consideration: "Very -likely. They could hardly have managed without the floor clerk in -fact." - -Presently he added: - -"We've got to go back all right. But I don't what we can do except to -surrender." - -"We still have my pictures of Crockett at Jennie's." - -"Well, I hope so. Unless they've bribed Simpson, too. Those pictures -are one of the things that may make them give us a chance to surrender." - -The two men smoked in silence for several minutes--until Rockwell -returned. - -"Well, that's fixed," he announced. "There's a north-bound express due -in half an hour and reported on time that will take us into Chicago by -nine o'clock to-night. You're sick, of course, Senator," he added to -Merriam. "Bronchitis again!" - -They continued to talk until the north-bound train arrived and picked up -their car, and they were started on their return trip. - -At Carbondale Rockwell sent off telegrams to the several cities which -Merriam was to have visited, cancelling Senator Norman's speaking tour -on account of a renewed attack of bronchitis. He also sent a message in -code to Aunt Mary, giving the hour when they were due to arrive. - -The three men talked, of course, but they had so few facts to go on that -they could only formulate gloomy speculations, with nothing really in -the way of definite conclusion beyond what Mr. Wayward and Merriam had -reached in their first few minutes of chat immediately after the arrival -of Aunt Mary's message. How the kidnapping had been managed or where -Norman might be, they simply could not tell. - -They had one practical point to decide, namely, their first procedure on -reaching the city. It was obviously not safe for "Senator Norman" to go -directly to the Hotel De Soto. They could not tell what the situation -there might be since the kidnapping. It was finally agreed that -Rockwell and Merriam should leave the train at Fifty-Third Street and -take a taxicab to Rockwell's bachelor apartment on Drexel Boulevard, -while Mr. Wayward should go on to the Twelfth Street Station and thence -to the hotel to see Aunt Mary. Their next step was to depend on what he -learned there. Rockwell was afraid even to telephone from his apartment, -for fear the wire to the Senator's suite might be tapped. Merriam was -not keen on this arrangement because it evidently postponed his seeing -Mollie June and might even prevent his doing so altogether. But this -was not an objection which he could raise in the discussion. - -At last they were running into the City. Fifty-Third Street was -reached, and Rockwell and Merriam shook hands with Mr. Wayward and -descended from the private car. - -Rockwell's first act in the station was to buy an evening paper. He -scanned the sheet anxiously, with Merriam looking over his shoulder. -The first page carried a paragraph reporting the abandonment of Senator -Norman's down-State speaking tour "on account of a return of his -bronchitis." Rockwell had sent no word to this effect to any one in -Chicago, but evidently the news had come in from some one or more of the -towns to which he had wired cancellations. There were, however, no -headlines in regard to the kidnapping of a United States Senator from -one of the city's leading hotels and no expose of their imposture. - -"They're still keeping it dark," said Rockwell, with a flash of renewed -hope on his haggard face. "We're going to have a chance to make terms." - -A moment later they were in a taxicab bound for his apartment. They -rode in silence. Merriam wondered if he should see Mollie June -again--though just what good that would do him or what he should say to -her he could not have told. - -"I shall see her once--alone," he said to himself, "whatever happens. -I've done enough for them to have a right to demand that." - -And on that scene of unhappy farewell--for what else could it be?--his -thoughts halted. His mind would go no farther. - -The taxicab stopped, and they got out, and Merriam found himself in -front of a decidedly imposing apartment building. Rockwell hurried him -through a sumptuous entry and into an elevator. They shot up three -flights. Then in a hallway Rockwell unlocked a door, and they entered -the sitting room of his apartment--a large room in quiet tones, -furnished somewhat in the taste of a good men's club. - -Merriam sank into a chair. - -"Played out?" asked Rockwell, standing over him and speaking in his old -manner of matter-of-fact good humour, which had deserted him during that -trying day. - -"Yes," said Merriam. He felt, in fact, quite exhausted, although he had -done nothing since ten o'clock that morning except smoke and eat two -meals and wait. - -"So am I," said Rockwell, "and we must get fit again. We may have a -busy night ahead. Suppose we have a shower and then coffee? That'll -brace us up." - -Three quarters of an hour later, the two men, much refreshed by the -shock of cold water and the odd stimulation which always follows -re-dressing in fresh clothes, were sitting on opposite sides of -Rockwell's writing table, waiting for an electric percolator to "perk," -when the doorbell rang. They looked at each other. - -"Curtain up for the last act," said Rockwell as he went to answer it. - -It was Mr. Wayward with Aunt Mary and Father Murray and Mayor Black. -Mollie June, Merriam saw, was not with them. - -"Come in," said Rockwell, oddly formal. - -Merriam, as he rose, noticed the change in Aunt Mary. Always before she -had seemed a creature of no age at all; now she was obviously a quite -elderly woman. The Mayor's plump face was gray and drawn with anxiety. -Even Mr. Wayward looked more worried than he had seemed all day. - -For a moment the four of them stood together just inside the room, -staring at Merriam, accusingly as it were, as if he had been the cause -of their trouble. - -But Rockwell, having closed the door, turned and after one glance at the -group spoke loudly, with exaggerated briskness: - -"Sit down, all of you--and tell me. You'll find this a comfortable -chair, Aunt Mary. Over there, Mayor. You're at home here, Wayward." - -Father Murray took Aunt Mary's arm and led her to the chair Rockwell had -indicated. Solemnly they all sat down. - -Rockwell was both daunted and impatient. After another look at Aunt -Mary, he turned to the Mayor: - -"When did it happen?" - -But before the Mayor could reply, Aunt Mary spoke up. She was not so -far gone as she looked. - -"Between five minutes after eight and half past nine this morning," she -said. "Mollie June and I had gone downstairs for breakfast in the -Wedgewood Room and then for a short walk--over to Michigan Avenue and -back. Dr. Hobart suggested both. He said we ought to get out that much -before we settled down for the day in the rooms, and that he would stay -with George till we returned. He said that George was much better, and -he looked better. When we got back--it was exactly half past -nine,--both he and George were gone." - -Aunt Mary paused for an instant on this disastrous climax. - -"We were terribly upset," she continued. "We could hardly believe our -senses. Mollie June cried, and at first I could not think what I ought -to do. But presently I had mind enough to telephone for Mayor Black and -Father Murray, and by the time they came I was calm enough to think -quietly and join them in making plans." - -"You were wonderful," said Father Murray. - -"We could make no kind of announcement or complaint. George was not -supposed to be there. You"--she looked at Merriam---"were probably at -that very moment making a speech in his name at Cairo. We could say -nothing to anybody. We figured out that you were either still at Cairo -or on your way to East St. Louis, and we sent messages to Mr. Rockwell -at both places. We had to stop that insane speaking tour and get you -both back here as soon as possible. We telephoned to the hotel office -for Dr. Hobart, but they said he had resigned as house physician the -night before. Then we sent for Simpson. He didn't seem greatly -surprised. In fact, he said that Dr. Hobart had offered him money early -that morning 'to help in restoring Senator Norman to his real friends.' -That seems to have been the way Hobart put it. Simpson refused the -money, he said, and didn't learn what the plan was. He said that he had -meant to tell me of the offer but hadn't been able to get away from his -work. It was still only a couple of hours since Dr. Hobart had talked -with him. He said he would try to find Hobart and learn where George -was, and then he went away, and we haven't heard from him since. -Finally, I went out to see the floor clerk, thinking she must have seen -when George was taken out, but there was a new girl. The former one had -quit, she said, at nine o'clock--simply telephoned the office that she -was leaving and hung up and slipped away." - -"Have you tried to see Crockett?" Rockwell asked. - -"I have," said the Mayor. "Been trying all day. But both at his office -and at his house they say he isn't in and they don't know where he is or -when he will be back. And he wasn't at any of his clubs." - -"It's a pretty clean get-away," said Rockwell. - -Merriam spoke up. "I have some hopes of Simpson," he said. "His -continued absence may mean that he is following some sort of trail." - -"Maybe," said Rockwell. "Meanwhile this coffee"--he drew attention to -the percolator--"is getting pretty black, and black coffee is what we -all need. After that we'll see." - -"Where is Mrs. Norman?" Merriam asked timidly while Rockwell was pouring -and passing the coffee. - -"We left her at the hotel with Alicia," said Mr. Wayward. "We had to -leave some one there, in case some message should come from Simpson or -from Crockett or from George himself." - -The coffee was drunk in a dismal silence. Mr. Wayward attempted one or -two semi-cheerful remarks, but they fell flat. - -"The first question," said Rockwell when the cups had been emptied, "is: -where is George Norman? Crockett may have taken him to his own house. -But that is unlikely. Or to some other hotel. Or to one of his clubs. -Or, if he is still really sick, to a hospital. I think myself a hotel -is the most probable. That could have been managed with a minimum of -explanations. In any case we have got to find him. But this is no case -for amateurs. I propose to engage a professional private detective and -commission him to find George. Also Hobart. It oughtn't to take him -more than twenty-four hours. Then we can make further plans. If Norman -is still sick, we may have to re-kidnap him. If he is up and himself -again, it will be a matter of parleying with him and Crockett and making -such terms as we can. Has any one a better suggestion?" - -It appeared that no one had, and Rockwell was looking up the detective -agency, when the doorbell rang again. - -Father Murray sprang to his feet. - -"Yes, you answer it," said Rockwell. - -Before the priest could reach the door an impatient rat-a-tat-tat -sounded on the panel. - -He opened to Alicia and Simpson. - -"Good heavens, you're slow!" cried Alicia. "And glum as the grave," she -added, glancing about the circle of faces. "Simpson has found George." - -There were exclamations. - -Rockwell put down the telephone book and went to Alicia. - -"Dear!" he said. - -And Alicia, turning, put her arms about his neck and kissed him. "You -poor fellow!" she cried. - -Then Rockwell turned to Simpson. - -"Sit down here, Simpson," he said. "Have some coffee? You look -fagged." - -"Thank you, sir. I _am_ pretty much all in." - -Rockwell drew a cup of coffee and took it to him, and the waiter gulped -it down. - -"Thank you, sir," he said again. "Now I can tell you. I owe a good -deal to that young gentleman"--he indicated Merriam,--"and when I saw -the trouble you were all in I decided to do what I could. Of course we -knew Mr. Crockett was at the bottom of the thing, and I decided he was -the most findable person in it. I figured that he wouldn't appear at -his office and wouldn't go home, but that sooner or later he would show -up at one of his clubs. You remember I asked you this morning what -clubs he belonged to." This to Mayor Black. - -The Mayor assented. - -"You mentioned five. That was a pretty large order, but I got some of -my pals who are taxicab drivers to help me, and between us we kept a -pretty close watch on all of them. He didn't come near the one I was -watching myself, and I didn't hear anything from the others till five -o'clock. Then one of the boys sent word to me that he had entered the -Grill Club on Monroe Street. I went right over and hung around there -for nearly three hours. It was a quarter to eight when he came out. He -took a taxi, and I followed in another. He drove to St. John's Hospital -over on the West Side. I was right after him and followed him into the -building. He doesn't know me, of course, and paid no attention to me. -He spoke to the nurse at the desk and then stepped into a waiting room. -The nurse looked hard at me, but I said, 'I'm with him,' and stepped -back towards the door. She thought I was his man and took no further -notice of me. Pretty soon Dr. Hobart came down. He didn't see me, but -I saw him plainly. He looked pretty much worried--scared, I thought. -He and Mr. Crockett talked for a while in the waiting room, but I -couldn't hear anything they said. Then Mr. Crockett left, and Dr. -Hobart went back upstairs. I could have spoken to him after Mr. Crockett -had gone out, but I thought I had better not let them know that any one -was on their trail--for fear they would move him again. Then I had an -idea. I went up to the desk again. I said to the nurse: 'How is Mr. -Merriam?' She looked at me. 'He's pretty sick,' she said, and turned -away. I didn't see what more I could do, so I took my taxi back to the -De Soto and went up to the Senator's suite and found Miss Wayward and -Mrs. Norman, and Miss Wayward brought me here." - -For a moment Rockwell seemed sunk in thought. Then he roused himself, -glanced around the circle of faces, and spoke: - -"First of all, Mr. Simpson, I want to say that you have done a very -clever bit of work. We were about to engage a private detective to -undertake what you have already accomplished. I think I can safely say -that we will see that you are suitably rewarded." - -"You can," said Mr. Wayward emphatically--which was satisfactory since -he was the person present from whom any substantial monetary reward must -come. - -"Thank you, sir," said Simpson. - -The Mayor broke in: - -"It's pretty clear what has happened. They got Norman downstairs while -Miss Norman and Mrs. Norman were at breakfast, put him in a taxi, drove -to the hospital, and entered him under the name of Merriam. And Dr. -Hobart has stayed in attendance." - -"And he's still sick--perhaps worse," said Aunt Mary anxiously. - -"Why did they enter him as Merriam?" asked Rockwell, thinking aloud. -"It must mean that Crockett doesn't dare denounce us or doesn't wish to -do so, that he means to make terms with us and preserve the secrecy of -the whole affair. As I see it, there will have to be one more -substitution"--he addressed the real owner of the name of Merriam,--"of -you for Norman--at the hospital. You have reported yourself to your -Riceville people as sick. Very well, you have gone to a hospital. From -the hospital you return to your work. It will strengthen your alibi. -And Norman will be restored to us--on Crockett's conditions, of course. -But we shall escape the worst. We shall come off safe yet. But it must -happen at once," he continued, with a note of new anxiety. "The whole -State knows that Norman's speaking tour has been abandoned, that he came -back to Chicago to-day, that he is in the City now. We must get hold of -Crockett some way to-night. The final substitution must be made before -morning." - -Mr. Wayward was looking at his watch. "It's eleven o'clock now," he -said. "But you'd better try telephoning. His clubs, I think." - -"Yes," said Rockwell. "The Grill Club! That's where you found him, -Simpson? He may have gone back there for the night. I'll try that -first." - -He went quickly to the telephone. - -While Rockwell was looking up the number and the rest waiting in painful -expectancy, the doorbell for the third time startled them. - -"I'll go, sir," said Simpson. - -In a moment he had opened the door. - -On the threshold stood Crockett--a pale, hesitant, almost seedy -Crockett, very different from the serene, confident, well-groomed -financier whom Merriam had first encountered forty-eight hours before at -Jennie's. - -Rockwell dropped the book: - -"Come in, Mr. Crockett. I was just going to 'phone to you." - -Crockett advanced a couple of steps into the room. Then he stopped. -There was something portentous in his air of mournful gravity. His eyes -travelled from face to face. For a moment they rested on Merriam. Then -they came to a full stop on Aunt Mary. - -The whole roomful remained silent, fascinated by his look, which seemed -to speak, not of threat, which they might have expected, but of some -disaster beyond threat. - -At last with an effort he turned his eyes from Aunt Mary to Rockwell. - -"I have to tell you," he said, "that George Norman is dead." - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIX* - - *THE FINAL DILEMMA* - - -I do not suppose Mr. Crockett desired to be unnecessarily cruel. -Doubtless he would have preferred to break his devastating news more -gently. But he was himself in a state of nervous exhaustion from -fatigue, worry, and perhaps remorse, and the circle of anxious faces had -proved too much for his self-control. - -Realising too late the brutal bluntness of his announcement, he broke -into a hurried flow of words: - -"We took him from the hotel this morning to St. John's Hospital. We -thought he would be just as well off there--even better off. Dr. Hobart -thought he was nearly well anyway. But the ride and the effort of -listening to Hobart's explanations apparently fatigued him. By the time -they got to the hospital he was very sick again. His bronchitis--if it -ever was bronchitis--turned into pneumonia--double acute pneumonia. He -got worse and worse all day. Dr. Hobart and the physicians and nurses -at the hospital did everything possible for him. But it was no use. He -died at nine o'clock." - -All eyes turned suddenly to Aunt Mary, who had risen, holding on to the -back of her chair. - -Father Murray was at her side in an instant, and Alicia hurried to her. - -"No," said Aunt Mary, brokenly, "I'm not going--to faint--or anything. -But I want--to be alone." - -Rockwell sprang to his feet. "My bedroom," he said, and led the way to -the door of his chamber, which opened off the sitting room. - -In a moment Aunt Mary, walking between Father Murray and Alicia, had -passed into the bedroom. - -Mr. Wayward's voice broke the stillness. - -"Poor fellow!" he said. - -For a minute or two they all paid the tribute of silence to the dead. -But it was impossible to be really very sorry for George Norman. He had -had an easy, pleasure-filled life--wealth, luxury, fame, and a good -time, according to his own conception of a good time, up to the very -beginning of his brief illness. That his last few, largely unconscious -hours had been passed in a hospital away from his friends had certainly -been almost no grief to him. The only sorrow genuinely possible was -over the common folly, and the universal final tragedy, of humankind. -In a few moments the thoughts of the entire group that remained in -Rockwell's sitting room were irresistibly drawn back to the strange and -somewhat dangerous situation in which the unexpected death had left -them. - -Presently Rockwell spoke: - -"Technically, Mr. Crockett, I suppose it is not Senator Norman but Mr. -Merriam who died at St. John's Hospital." - -(Merriam was somewhat startled at this turn of thought; this phase of -the matter had not yet occurred to him.) - -"You have made no announcement?" Rockwell asked. - -"No," said Crockett. "I have done nothing. When Hobart telephoned me -that--what had happened, I rushed out to the hospital again--I don't -know why. I couldn't believe it. Then I telephoned from the hospital -to the De Soto and got Mrs. Norman, and she told me you were all here, -so I came here. I have done nothing." - -While he was speaking Alicia and Father Murray returned from the -bedroom. - -"She is all right," said Alicia. "She asked us to leave her alone for a -few minutes. Did you tell Mrs. Norman?" she added, addressing Crockett. - -"What had happened? Yes," said Crockett. - -Merriam's thoughts flew to Mollie June, alone in the vast, heartless -hotel with the news of her husband's death. - -"Ought not some one to go to her?" he asked. - -"Presently," said Rockwell. "We must first consider the situation a -little--hers as well as ours." - -Mayor Black spoke up: - -"It will be pretty awkward for her--aside from natural grief and all -that--that her husband should have died in a hospital under another name -without her being present, while the man to whom the other name belongs -was impersonating him in public. And awkward for Miss Norman. For the -rest of us, too. Damned awkward!" - -"It is a hard thing to have to close the career of George Norman with -such a story," said Mr. Wayward. - -"It must never happen!" said a voice behind them. - -They all turned. Aunt Mary was standing in the door of the bedroom. -She already looked more like herself. She was one of those souls who -may sink under passive anxiety and suspense but find themselves again -immediately when a call for action comes. She had scarcely been left -alone, apparently, when the same thought which the Mayor and Mr. Wayward -had expressed had occurred to her--the peril to the name of Norman, -which was perhaps even more dear to her than her brother himself had -been. And instantly, by some powerful effort of will, she had put grief -behind her and turned to face this new danger. - -"It must never happen," she repeated, advancing into the room, where -Alicia, and the men too, unmindful of the etiquette which should have -brought them to their feet, sat staring at her. "The secret must be -kept. It is more important now than ever. With George alive, it would -not have mattered so much. He would have lived it down triumphantly. -Only the rest of us would have suffered--not he, nor the Name. But -now--_it must be kept_!" - -"But how _can_ it be kept?" said Crockett, in a tone of desperation. - -For a moment no one spoke. - -Then Rockwell, looking from face to face, drew a deep breath. - -"There is just one way," he said. "It was John Merriam who died. -Senator Norman is alive." He waved his hand at Merriam. "He must go on -living!" - -"But that is impossible," said Mayor Black and Merriam together. - -"Face the alternative first," said Rockwell. "George--the real -George--was admitted to the hospital about nine o'clock this morning. -At that same hour Senator Norman was making a speech at Cairo before an -audience representing the entire county. That is known all over the -State. He took the next train back to Chicago. But that train did not -reach Chicago until after--after the death." - -"We could have the hour of the death changed on the records," proposed -Mr. Wayward. "It is already announced all over the State that Senator -Norman is ill again. He could be rushed from the train to the hospital -and die there during the night." - -"Then we should have two deaths on our hands," said Rockwell, "and only -one body. Unless we bring Merriam to life again. How are we to do -that? It is pretty hard to get hospital authorities to falsify their -records. And dozens of people must know the supposed facts--nurses, -doctors, clerks at the hospital. We could never keep them all from -talking. The reporters would get hold of it within twenty-four hours. -No, Senator Norman cannot have died at the hospital. He is alive. He -must go on living!" - -"Can't he die at the hotel--to-night or to-morrow?" said Merriam. - -"Then what becomes of you?" asked Rockwell. - -"Why, I should go back to Riceville." - -"You can't. You're dead! And how can Senator Norman die at the hotel -when we should not be able to produce his body there?" - -"We could get the body," said Mr. Wayward, speaking in a lowered tone. -"As Mr. Merriam's friends we would take his body away from the hospital -to be buried and bring it to the hotel." - -"We shall have to send for the real Merriam's friends," said Rockwell. -"From Riceville and--wherever your people live." He looked at Merriam. -"We should have no body to show them. We could bury a loaded casket. -But why should we, who must be strangers to him from their point of -view, have been in such a hurry when they could get here in a few hours? -Probably they would want to take his body elsewhere for burial. Very -likely they would have the coffin we had buried raised and opened. And -how could we get a dead body into the Hotel De Soto? Up a fire escape?" - -In the earnestness of his argument Rockwell evidently did not realise -the gruesomeness of his language. - -Aunt Mary shuddered. - -"No!" she said. "I will not have George's body smuggled about the -city." - -She paused, looking strangely at Merriam. None of the others, not even -Rockwell, ventured to speak. - -"Alicia told me, I believe, that you have no near relatives?" she said -presently. - -"None nearer than cousins," Merriam replied. - -For a long minute more Aunt Mary stared at him. She closed her eyes, -opened them, and looked again. Then her lips shut tight for a moment in -an expression of momentous decision. She leaned forward. - -"You have the Norman blood in you," she said to Merriam, "on your -mother's side. You are fine stuff. We have all seen that. We will -make a Norman of you, if you will. You shall take George's place--to -save his name!" - -"But----" Merriam began. - -But Rockwell cut in: - -"It's absolutely the only way," he cried. "The only other alternative -is to let the whole story come out." - -"Then that's what we have to do," said Mr. Wayward. "Make a clean breast -of it." - -"No!" said Aunt Mary. - -"No!" echoed Rockwell. "Think what that means--to George's memory, -first of all. That in his last hours his relatives and friends were -conspiring against him, with the help of a stranger double, to force him -to abandon the kind of life he was leading and the disreputable -interests with which he was associated.--I beg your pardon, Mr. -Crockett!" - -Crockett waved a feeble hand to indicate forgiveness or indifference. - -"And then to Mollie June," Rockwell continued. "That she had connived at -the impersonation of her husband during his last illness by another man. -How far did that other man take her husband's place, will be the -question every man and woman in the State will ask. And all the rest of -us. Aunt Mary. And Mr. Merriam, who will lose his job and his -professional standing. And the Mayor and myself, who will be ruined -politically and every other way. Even you, Mr. Wayward, would find -yourself in an exceedingly unpleasant situation. And Mr. Crockett, on -the other side, would be no better off. For the story of the kidnapping -must come out." - -The wilted financier uttered a sort of groan. - -"But can the other thing be done?" asked the Mayor, the perspiration of -mental anguish showing on his forehead. - -"Certainly it can," said, Rockwell eagerly. "Senator Norman has come -back to Chicago. Here he is. Presently he will arrive at the hotel. He -will be pretty sick. You and I"--he looked at Mr. Wayward--"will -support him to the elevator and to his rooms. He will be ill for -several days. We must get hold of Hobart again to attend him. Then we -will announce that he is threatened with tuberculosis and is to retire -from public life. He must resign his seat in the Senate. We daren't go -ahead with that. It would be too dangerous--and too serious a fraud -besides." (Evidently there was some limit to a Reformer's -unscrupulousness.) "He will go to his ranch in Colorado to recuperate. -You will actually go." He was addressing Merriam now. "You must live -there for a year or so. During that time only a few of Norman's private -friends will visit you. We will coach you up on these a few at a time. -If any of them notice any slight changes in you, they will lay it to -your illness. You will easily take your place in the whole circle of -his private life." - -"But the property," said Mr. Wayward. "The Norman fortune." - -"Reverts to me and Mollie June," said Aunt Mary, who was evidently heart -and soul with Rockwell. "If we are satisfied----" - -She stopped. The mention of Mollie June had recalled a phase of the -situation which Rockwell and the Mayor and even Mr. Wayward had -apparently forgotten--so little are men accustomed to consider their -women folk when the real game of business or politics is on. Merriam -and Alicia had not forgotten it, but had not been able so far to get a -word in. As for Aunt Mary I cannot say--she was so near to being a man -herself. - -"Mollie June!" repeated Rockwell aghast. - -"Exactly," said Merriam, somewhat bitterly. Him, too, Rockwell had been -treating pretty much as a lifeless pawn in the game. - -But Aunt Mary, when roused, was equal to anything. - -"We shall manage that," she said. "I will go to Colorado with Mr. -Merriam. Mollie June can return to her father for a time. We can -arrange a separation--or----" - -Even Aunt Mary hesitated. But Alicia took the cue. - -"Or they can be married--or remarried," she said, fixing her bright -eyes, with a gleam of mischievous understanding in them, on Merriam. - -The argument had come to a full stop. The whole roomful sat looking at -Merriam, who tried to think and found he could not, except that he -realised that all the rest had tacitly accepted Rockwell's plan. - -"Come!" said Alicia vivaciously. "It isn't so bad, is it? The Norman -fortune and--Mollie June!" - -Bad! The prospect was so dazzling to Merriam that he could not take his -mind off it in order to think calmly. To die to his old self--to his -poverty and loneliness, to his teaching with which he had long been -bored,--and to step as if by magic into a new life with wealth, -leisure--and Mollie June! For surely she loved him, and she had not -loved George Norman. She would marry him--after an interval, of course. - -"I must think," he said, weakly, in response to Alicia's exhortation. - -"Of course you must," said Rockwell. "You must accustom your mind to -it. But it will all be perfectly easy. You were brought up on a farm, -weren't you? You will take to the ranch life like anything. It's -mostly stock-raising. You can go in for scientific farming. After a -few months it would probably be a good thing for you to travel, perhaps -for a year or two--especially if you and Mollie June should marry. Get -out of the country, so as to leave Norman's old life entirely behind you -for a while. You might take a trip around the world." - -Merriam's youthful heart bounded in spite of himself. A trip around the -world with Mollie June! - -"As to your old self," Rockwell continued, "that's quite simple, too. -Norman was entered at the hospital under your name. A death certificate -must have been given by now." He looked at Crockett. - -"I don't know," said Crockett. "Hobart may have held off on that." - -"At any rate it can be. In fact, it will have to be. Hobart shall -telegraph to Riceville and to your cousins, wherever they are. He was -the house physician at the De Soto where you took sick. That was how he -came to be attending you. When you got bad he took you to the hospital. -Nothing more natural. The rest of us will not need to appear at all." - -"Aunt Mary will have to appear," said Alicia. "She will want to attend -the funeral." - -"She became acquainted with you at the hotel, then," said Rockwell. -"Took an interest in a young man who was alone and ill. When your -relatives and friends come Hobart will have the body already laid out in -a casket. He can advise immediate burial here in the city. Aunt Mary -can offer a lot in the Norman plot at Lakewood. Would your cousins -probably consent to that?" - -"Very likely," said Merriam, rather in a daze. It was confusing to be -discussing the details of one's own interment. - -"Then everything will follow in regular course," said Rockwell, speaking -as if all difficulties were solved. "George will be buried with his -family, and you can start for Colorado." - -For a second time the talk came to a full stop. The new plan was -outlined in full. It remained only to decide upon it or to reject it -and face the alternative of a public confession. All of them except -Merriam had already accepted the scheme, apparently, gruesome and -bizarre as it was. It was for all the rest so much the easiest way and -the most advantageous. But it did not require any of them to die--to -die to his own self, his friends, his very name. On the other hand it -did not offer them any such positive rewards as were proffered to -Merriam--a fortune and love. We can hardly wonder that he was somewhat -stupefied by the alternatives that beat upon his mind. The loss of all -that up to this point in his life had been his identity versus Mollie -June--that was the essence of the struggle within him. - -He sat beside Rockwell's table, staring at the now silent percolator, -trying to think but able only to feel. The others were looking uneasily -at him and at one another. Aunt Mary's eyes and Alicia's demanded of -Rockwell, who had always managed everything, that he should manage this -too. Once he started to speak, but gave it up and looked appealingly at -Alicia instead. Indeed he might justifiably feel that this was Alicia's -job. She acknowledged as much in her own mind and was trying to decide -what to do or say, when the one person present who had not spoken -throughout the entire scene came to the rescue. - -Through all their long discussion Simpson had stood unobtrusive and -unnoticed in the background, but he had followed every word. For his -fortunes too, humble, indeed, but sufficiently important to him, were -bound up in this decision. If the deception was to be continued, his -assistance, in the matter of silence at least, would be necessary, and -he could expect a large--honorarium; if it came to a public confession, -he could still expect something, but probably a good deal less; and to -win and hold Jennie he needed a considerable sum of money. - -So now he advanced a step and spoke: - -"Shall I call a taxi for you, Mr. Merriam, to take you to the hotel?" - -"Of course!" cried Alicia, jumping up. "You must go and see Mollie -June. It all depends now upon her." - -The others too stirred and expressed more or less audible acquiescence, -and Simpson had his reward in the shape of approving glances from -Rockwell and Mr. Wayward. - -Merriam got to his feet with the other men because Alicia had risen. He -was not so obtuse nor so much dazed that he did not see what they were -doing. They were trying to rush him. They calculated that though -Mollie June in the abstract might contend indecisively with other -abstract considerations, Mollie June in the flesh would decide him in -the twinkling of an eye. He saw that plainly enough. Nevertheless, for -his part it did now depend altogether upon Mollie June. If he was to do -this thing--to abandon his old self and enter upon what must be in some -degree a lifelong career of deception,--it would be for her sake--not -only in order to win her sooner, years sooner, than he could otherwise -have the slightest hope of doing, but to save her from scandal, and -because she loved him and wanted him too at once (comparatively -speaking) as he wanted her. - -So his decision was made almost as soon as he was on his feet. He -looked with some dignity from one waiting face to another about the -circle. - -"Yes," he said quietly, "it does depend on her. You may call a taxi, -Simpson." - - - - - *CHAPTER XXX* - - *MOLLIE JUNE* - - -Almost before Merriam's brief sentence was out of his mouth Simpson had -started for the telephone. But Mayor Black spoke up: - -"My car and chauffeur are below. We came up from the hotel in it. You -can use it." - -"You go with him, Aunt Mary," said Rockwell, again taking command. "You -see her first," he continued. "Mr. Merriam can wait somewhere--in 'Mr. -Wilson's' room. When you have explained the general situation you can -call him in and leave them together and--give him his chance." - -Even at this moment it was a slight shock to Merriam to realise that the -state of feeling between himself and Mollie June, which they had -supposed completely hidden, had been clearly perceived by the others--or -at least, he thought swiftly, by Rockwell and Aunt Mary and Alicia. He -smiled a little cynically to himself as he understood that they had been -willing to use this interest of his as a motive in securing his easy -acquiescence in their previous schemes. Evidently they were counting on -it in Mollie June too. That gave him a thrill of hope which made him -forget his cynicism. - -Father Murray had put Aunt Mary's wrap about her, and Rockwell had got -Merriam's hat and his own. - -Merriam found Alicia by his side. She held out her hand, and when he -took it she squeezed his fingers in the way she had and said -significantly, with all of a woman's interest in a romance: - -"Good luck!" - -"Thank you," said Merriam, but his answering smile was again a little -cynical. - -Then he opened the door for Aunt Mary and waved his hand to the others, -with some amusement at the anxious looks with which they were regarding -him. Even Simpson's countenance was perturbed! - -Rockwell and the Mayor went down to the street with them and put them in -the limousine. The Mayor directed the chauffeur to drive them to the -hotel and then to return for himself and the others. Rockwell spoke to -Aunt Mary: - -"You put the essential facts before her and then leave them--leave Mr. -Merriam to do the rest!" - -And again Merriam smiled with an acid amusement that is commonly -supposed to belong to the middle-aged and old but is really most -characteristic of those who are under thirty. - -Rockwell glanced at Merriam as if about to give him too a parting -exhortation, but hesitated, checked perhaps by the younger man's -expression, and spoke to the driver instead: "All right!" - -They had started, and Merriam tried to think. His whole life turned in a -very peculiar sense on the events of the next hour--whether he should -continue to be himself or take up the life of another man. He got that -far. But what he should say to Mollie June--even what it was he wanted -to say to her--he could not get on with it. The mood of youthful -cynicism was by no means the right mood for the business in hand. - -And then--too soon for him now--they were at the hotel. - -So little had he been able to think clearly that it was not until he was -helping Aunt Mary out of the machine that he realised that in entering -the hotel with her again this way, in the character of the dead Senator, -he was already in effect consenting to Rockwell's plan and binding its -consequences upon himself and Mollie June. - -He had a wild idea of getting back into the limousine and driving away -and later entering the hotel via the fire escape again. But Aunt Mary -was already on the pavement. - -As they entered the lobby Merriam glanced about to see whether he was -noticed and recognised as the Senator. He was. At least three men whom -he did not know bowed and raised their hats, and one of them took a step -forward as if to approach them. But Merriam looked away and guided Aunt -Mary as rapidly as possible to the elevators. - -When they emerged on Floor Three, Merriam asked for the key, explaining -casually that "Mr. Wilson" was a friend. - -In a couple of minutes he had escorted Aunt Mary to the door of her -sitting room--Senator Norman's no longer--or was it still to be Senator -Norman's?--and had himself entered "Mr. Wilson's" room. - -His first act there was to call up the hotel florist--as he had done -once before on this same telephone. But this time Merriam's order was -for roses, to be sent up at once. - -He hung up the receiver and walked nervously about the room. - -Was it not time for him to go to Mollie June? Aunt Mary was being -terribly long about her explanation. Had Mollie June broken down under -her grief--grief for George Norman?--or merely from anxiety and -conflicting emotions? Was she refusing to see him? Was she ill? - -He jumped up and walked back and forth in his nervousness, watching the -door to the other bedroom, at which he might expect to receive Aunt -Mary's summons. - -A knock at last! But it was at the wrong door, the hall door. In a -sort of hesitating amazement he went to answer it. It was the boy with -the roses. He had forgotten ordering them. - -He signed for the flowers and brought them into the room and took them -out of their box and tissue paper. They were lovely--the most exquisite -colour, between pink and red, that has no name but that of the flower -itself--pink and red harmonised in soft coolness and fragrance--Mollie -June's flowers without a doubt. - -But had he done well in ordering them? Was this a time for lover-like -gifts? Should he not have got white roses, such as one sends to a -funeral? - -And then, as he stood in this anxiety, came Aunt Mary's knock at the -bedroom door. - -He started as if caught in a guilty action and thrust the flowers back -into their box before he went to open to her. - -"How is she?" - -But Aunt Mary herself looked so broken that he led her to a chair. - -Then, "How is she?" he repeated. He could not wait. - -"She is very quiet." - -"You told her the--the plan?" - -"Yes." - -"She understood it?" - -"I think so." - -"Am I to go to her?" - -"I suppose so," said Aunt Mary with a sigh. "Mr. Rockwell said----" She -stopped. - -Merriam showed her the roses. - -"Should I take these to her?" - -Aunt Mary looked at him and at the flowers. - -"I think perhaps you might," she said, and then sat staring out across -the fire escape. - -She looked so very miserable that Merriam impulsively patted her -shoulder. She glanced up quickly at that, then turned her eyes to the -window again. He could not read her look, but he was not sorry he had -betrayed his affectionate sympathy. If he was to be her brother for the -rest of their lives---- - -After a moment more of hesitation he picked up the flowers and passed -through the former sick room to the sitting room. - -Mollie June was sitting in a small straight-backed chair by the window, -looking out. But Merriam was sure at the first glance that she saw -nothing. She had merely turned automatically towards the light, as all -but the old or the self-conscious tend to do. As Aunt Mary had said she -was very quiet. Her back was of course towards the room and Merriam. - -He waited for a moment just inside the door, looking at her, forgetting -the flowers in his hands. He was sorry for her and very uncertain what -he ought to do. Then he became a little frightened, because she sat so -still. She gave no sign of having heard him. - -With conscious effort, because he must do something, he crossed the room -till he stood beside her. Still she did not turn her eyes from the -window. - -He stood looking down at her. She was a pathetic figure as she sat -there--the more pathetic, to the eyes of youth at least, because she was -so lovely, so young and fresh really, although a little pale and -heavy-eyed. He saw dark shadows under her eyes which must have come -from tears. - -The sight of these unlocked him, drowned all his hesitations in pitying -love. He dropped on his knees beside her chair, laying the long-stemmed -roses regardlessly on the floor and putting one hand on the back of her -chair. - -"Mollie June!" he said. - -She did not start. Evidently she had known he was there. She looked -first at the flowers on the floor and then at his face. - -"I am so sorry," he cried. - -"Are you sorry or glad?" she asked. - -"I am terribly sorry for you," he answered. Her hands lay together in -her lap, and he attempted to take one of them. - -But she moved them slightly. - -"Don't," she said. - -"Don't make me strange to you, Mollie June," he cried. - -"How can I help it?" she answered. "I am strange to myself too. You -see, I am glad! I am sorry for George," she went on quickly. "It is -terrible to me that he is dead. But I am so glad I do not have to be -his wife any more!" - -Once more, as on a former occasion, some dim notion came to Merriam of -what it must mean to a girl to be connubially in the power of a man she -does not love. He pitied and loved her greatly. Also he marvelled. How -had she come through it all so fresh and unchanged? The answer, of -course, was youth. But youth could not know the answer. - -"I am glad too," he said. - -Her eyes, which as she dropped them had rested on the roses on the -floor, came back to his face. - -"You are glad I have to marry you." - -"But you don't!" - -"You know I do." - -Instantly he saw that Aunt Mary had not put the thing fairly before her. -In Aunt Mary's mind it was settled. The course of action which promised -to save the precious Norman name from scandal was the only possible -course of action. She had so represented it to Mollie June. - -"No, no!" Merriam cried. "You shall not be forced into this. You shall -never be forced in anything again if I can help it. I will not be -forced myself--even to marry you." - -"What else can we do?" asked Mollie June, searching his face. - -"It's fairly simple," he said, a little bitterly. "Not easy, but simple. -I will write a brief, plain account of the whole affair--the -impersonation--from beginning to end, and send for a reporter and give -it to him. That will end everything. I will sit down now at that desk -and write it and call for a man and give it to him while Aunt Mary -thinks we are still talking--unless you tell me not to." - -"Would you do that?" - -"Indeed I will!" - -He rose to his feet. He meant it, and she saw that he meant it. To be -forced in this thing was, in fact, even less to his liking perhaps than -to hers. - -Standing, he saw the roses at his feet. He stooped and picked them up -and handed them to her. - -"You'll let me give you these?" he said, his manner more determined than -lover-like. "I saw them from the elevator as I was coming up here with -Aunt Mary. They were so like you that I could not help buying them and -bringing them to you." - -She accepted them passively, looking up at him. Perhaps she liked him -determined rather than lover-like. - -"I am not giving you up," he went on gravely. "But you will go away -somewhere with Aunt Mary, and I will go back to Riceville. I have my -contract for the rest of this year at least. And if you will wait a few -years--you will want to wait and rest a while,--I will come back and win -you in my own right." - -She did not answer but looked up at him, still searching his face. - -For a moment he stood regarding her. That image of her as she sat there -with the flowers in her lap and her uplifted face and questioning eyes, -more lovely than ever in their intense gravity in spite of their trace -of tears, remained one of the permanent treasures of his memory. - -He turned away and walked over to the writing table and sat down. It -was a moment or two before he could think why he was there. Then he -remembered and drew towards him several sheets of the hotel stationery -and took up a pen. He realised that he was in a very poor frame of mind -for literary composition, but he mastered his attention and wrote: - - _Statement by John Merriam regarding His - Impersonation of Senator Norman_ - - -He underlined those words and resisted an impulse to turn and look at -Mollie June. He wanted to know whether she was looking at him or -looking out at the window again. He wanted, too, merely to see her. -But he would not look. With a heroic effort he brought his mind back to -the paper before him. How to begin? Where to begin? It was a long -story, he realised. He must make it as brief as possible. He could -omit much. But he must introduce himself. The public did not know him -from Adam. He seized at this straw. - -"My name is John Merriam," he wrote. "I am the principal of the high -school at Riceville, Illinois. On my mother's side I am related to----" - -He stopped abruptly. It was the fragrance of roses that interrupted -him. Mollie June had risen and come over beside him. His effort of -concentration had been so great that he had not heard her. She carried -the flowers pressed against the bosom of her dress. The action was -probably mechanical; she was too much engrossed to think to put them -down. She did not look at him but over his shoulder at his writing. -She read it. - -Apparently his opening statement caught her attention. She looked at -him and smiled slightly, more with her mouth than her eyes, which were -still grave. - -"You wouldn't like to change your name, would you?" she said. - -"Mollie June!" He was on his feet. - -She backed away from him, pressing her flowers tight. - -"Would you?" she demanded. - -"It's not that," he said, not daring to advance towards her lest she -should retreat farther. - -"A woman always has to change her name when she marries. Why shouldn't -a man do it for once?" - -He started forward now and caught her arm and led her back to her chair -and dropped on his knees again beside her. - -"Dearest Mollie June," he said, "I'll change my name to yours so gladly, -if you will let me. So as to have you sooner than I could the other -way. But not unless you want me to!" he added fiercely. "For yourself!" - -She looked at him, shyly now. - -"I would rather have it the other way myself," she said, tears standing -in her eyes at last, "and wait and change my name to yours. But I think -we ought to do it this way for George." - -"For George!" - -"Yes, and Aunt Mary. She has been very good to me. George was good to -me too in his way. And he was my husband, and he's dead. If we can save -his name and save her--this way,--don't you think we ought to?" - -Then of course he put his arms about her. - -"I won't call you George, though!" she said presently, very -emphatically. - -"What will you call me, dearest?" - -She smiled at him through her tears and with a gesture that ravished him -lifted his hand and kissed it. - -"Mr. John!" she whispered. - -He would have kissed her again, but she hurried on. - -"We'll pretend to people that it's a nickname left over from some game -or play." - -"It _is_ left over from a sort of--play," he answered, and then she was -ready for another kiss. - - - - THE END - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48626 - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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