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} - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND</title> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1920" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Max McConn" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2015-04-01" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Mollie's Substitute Husband" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="Edward C. Caswell" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="48626" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Mollie's Substitute Husband" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> - -<link rel="schema.DCTERMS" href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" /> -<link rel="schema.MARCREL" href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" /> -<meta content="Mollie's Substitute Husband" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="/home/ajhaines/mollie/mollie.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" name="DCTERMS.language" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" /> -<meta content="2015-04-01T16:50:29.510627+00:00" name="DCTERMS.modified" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48626" /> -<meta content="Max McConn" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="Edward C. Caswell" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2015-04-01" name="DCTERMS.created" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="mollie-s-substitute-husband"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. 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.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Mollie's Substitute Husband -<br /> -<br />Author: Max McConn -<br /> -<br />Release Date: April 01, 2015 [EBook #48626] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<!-- --> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>[Transcriber's note: The frontispiece was missing from -<br />the source book]</span></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold xx-large">MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE -<br />HUSBAND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">MAX McCONN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">WITH FRONTISPIECE BY</em><span class="small"> -<br />EDWARD C. CASWELL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">THE RYERSON PRESS -<br />TORONTO -<br />1920</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">COPYRIGHT, 1920 -<br />BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">PRINTED IN U. S. A.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>I </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-professor-on-a-spree">"The Professor" on a Spree</a><span> -<br />II </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-prettiest-girl">The Prettiest Girl</a><span> -<br />III </span><a class="reference internal" href="#friendly-strangers">Friendly Strangers</a><span> -<br />IV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#an-unscrupulous-reformer">An Unscrupulous Reformer</a><span> -<br />V </span><a class="reference internal" href="#alicia-and-the-motives-of-men">Alicia and the Motives of Men</a><span> -<br />VI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#stage-setting">Stage-Setting</a><span> -<br />VII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#boy-and-girl">Boy and Girl</a><span> -<br />VIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#passages-with-mayor-black">Passages with Mayor Black</a><span> -<br />IX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#aunt-mary">Aunt Mary</a><span> -<br />X </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-senator-missing">A Senator Missing</a><span> -<br />XI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#confessions-of-waiter-no-73">Confessions of Waiter No. 73</a><span> -<br />XII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#grapefruit-and-telegrams">Grapefruit and Telegrams</a><span> -<br />XIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-change-of-management">A Change of Management</a><span> -<br />XIV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#holding-the-fort">Holding the Fort</a><span> -<br />XV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#council-of-war">Council of War</a><span> -<br />XVI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-senatorial-dinner">The Senatorial Dinner</a><span> -<br />XVII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-devious-journey">A Devious Journey</a><span> -<br />XVIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#jennie">Jennie</a><span> -<br />XIX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-new-antagonist">A New Antagonist</a><span> -<br />XX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#an-eventful-supper-party">An Eventful Supper Party</a><span> -<br />XXI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#flash-lights">Flash Lights</a><span> -<br />XXII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#virtue-triumphant">Virtue Triumphant</a><span> -<br />XXIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#return">Return</a><span> -<br />XXIV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-reform-league">The Reform League</a><span> -<br />XXV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#second-council-of-war">Second Council of War</a><span> -<br />XXVI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-business-of-being-an-impostor">The Business of Being an Impostor</a><span> -<br />XXVII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-code-telegram">The Code Telegram</a><span> -<br />XXVIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#simpson-as-detective">Simpson as Detective</a><span> -<br />XXIX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-final-dilemma">The Final Dilemma</a><span> -<br />XXX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#mollie-june">Mollie June</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-professor-on-a-spree"><span class="bold x-large">MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"THE PROFESSOR" ON A SPREE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A distinguished looking gentleman in a dinner -jacket, conspicuously labeled with a number, -somewhat haughtily and negligently approached, -bearing a menu card.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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, -blasé silences of waiters who possess the bearing -and manner of a governor or a capitalist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John Merriam had been excellent in amateur -dramatics at college, and he now roused himself to -a magnificent histrionic effort in the rôle of "man -of the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pushed the menu card aside without looking -at it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And then what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll see how I feel then," said Merriam with a -half yawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam grinned delightedly. He had put it -across--his little piece of acting. He had measurably -imposed his rôle on his audience of one; at -least he had shaken him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-prettiest-girl"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE PRETTIEST GIRL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">n</em><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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"?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at last they were walking together towards -her home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take my arm, please," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said John, his tone as succinct as his -monosyllable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But girls learn early to deal with the conversational -difficulties and recalcitrances of males under -stress of emotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It means leaving school and Riceville -and--everything," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will have a very rich and brilliant life," -he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked on, he still obediently clutching her -arm, in silence; conversation not accompaniable -with laughter is so difficult an art for youth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Mollie June tried again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aren't you sorry I'm leaving the school--Mr. Merriam?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm very sorry indeed," responded "Professor" -Merriam. "You ought to have stayed to graduate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care about graduating," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again their footsteps echoed in the cold January -silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Mollie June made a third attempt:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You look ever so much like Mr. Norman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know it," said Merriam. "We're related."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, </span><em class="italics">are you</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On my mother's side. We're second cousins. -But the two branches of the family have nothing -to do with each other now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Older!" said John Merriam rudely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There Mollie June carefully extricated her -arm from his mechanical grasp and confronted him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her face, peeping out of the fur -collar of her coat in the starlight, and for one -instant into her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was saying: "I am very grateful to you, -Merriam, for all the help you have given -me--in--algebra."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He ought to have kissed her. She wanted him -to. He half divined as much--afterwards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That, I judge, was too much for Mollie June. -She held out her little gloved hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, Mr. Merriam!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, Mollie June!" he said, using that -name for the first time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he dropped her hand, somewhat suddenly, -I fear, turned abruptly, and walked rapidly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="friendly-strangers"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">FRIENDLY STRANGERS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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----</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 rôle--with a -difference!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What next, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The priest rested two white hands on the edge -of the table and bent over him with a friendly -smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you pardon a frank question from a -stranger?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess a question won't hurt me," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this simple reply the cleric straightened up -quickly as if startled and looked at Merriam closely -and curiously. Then he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you by any chance related to Senator Norman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I ask what the relationship is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said the priest. "The resemblance -is really remarkable. And we saw you looking at -Mrs. Norman. Do you know her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. I knew her before--before she--was married."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see. Thank you so much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The inquisitive priest returned to his friends, -who appeared to listen intently to his report.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same time Waiter No. 73 arrived with -Merriam's steak and salad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">danse macabre</em><span>. 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose mechanically, dropping his napkin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," she smiled. "Won't you sit down--and -let me sit down a moment, too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took the chair opposite him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Alicia Wayward," she said. There -was a kind of deliberate sweetness in her tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you tell me your name?" said Alicia, -with the barest suggestion in her voice of -sharpness in the midst of sweet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John Merriam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you are a second cousin of Senator Norman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, Miss Alicia," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Simpson used to be my father's butler," -explained Miss Wayward. "We've never had so -a butler since."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Miss Alicia," said Simpson fervently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send me the head waiter," said Miss Wayward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Miss Alicia," and Simpson departed -almost with alacrity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be pleased," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Alicia, with augmented -sweetness.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="an-unscrupulous-reformer"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">AN UNSCRUPULOUS REFORMER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They ordered ices and </span><em class="italics">café noir</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And a liqueur?" suggested Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam assented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What should you prefer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now Merriam knew the name of just one -liqueur. He made prompt use of that solitary -scrap of information.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Benedictine, perhaps," he suggested, as who -should say, "Out of all the world's vintages my -mature choice among liqueurs is Benedictine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good," smiled Alicia. (I am afraid she was -not effectually deceived.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was introduced first to Father Murray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Murray was deprecatory but unruffled. -A Christian priest must forgive all things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is Mr. Philip Rockwell of the Reform -League," said Alicia. "His fame has doubtless -reached you. 'One-Thing-at-a-Time Rockwell.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is much cosier, isn't it?" said Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took the head of the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They consumed ices, and Alicia conversed, in the -sprightly fashion she affected, with Merriam. The -other two men hardly participated at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need not wait, Simpson," said Alicia. -"We'll ring if we need you again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How so?" said Merriam. He was rather on -his guard against Mr. Philip Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And endowed with the superb modesty so -characteristic of reformers," interjected Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The reformer paid no attention to this frivolous -parenthesis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam signified that he comprehended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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. </span><em class="italics">To do things!</em><span>" he repeated, with an -almost mysterious emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At the present time," Rockwell resumed, "the -one thing which the Reform League is undertaking -to </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> 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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Merriam. By which we must suppose -he meant that he had read headlines about it -in the Chicago papers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam perceived that an interrogation was -demanded of him and took his cue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is that?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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. -</span><em class="italics">And Norman will say, 'Veto!'</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where do I come in, though?" he added, -belying his assumption of sagacity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's my very next point," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you aware, Mr. Merriam, that you bear a -most striking physical resemblance to Senator Norman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has never seen you, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He probably doesn't know of my existence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much the better," said Rockwell. "The -only difficulty then is Mrs. Norman. And she can -be eliminated."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This facile elimination of Mollie June did not -make an irresistible appeal to Merriam, but he held -his tongue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Wayward saw the reformer's mistake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Rockwell means," she threw in, "that Mrs. Norman -can be shielded from the difficulties of the -situation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He also says," interrupted Alicia, as if -mischievously, "that it is Providential."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In short," said Alicia sweetly, "Mr. Rockwell -himself will collapse."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell took no heed of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 roué. 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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Merriam, "I don't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you know these things?" interrupted -Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And to yourself," said Alicia softly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And to myself, yes!" said Rockwell, infinitesimally -pricked at last. But he hurried on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By force?" asked Merriam, rather sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell quickly resumed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Riceville," supplied Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That will be a real adventure for you, young -man, and you will have saved the cause of Reform -in the city of Chicago!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John Merriam smiled, frostily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And he and the priest hastily departed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="alicia-and-the-motives-of-men"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ALICIA AND THE MOTIVES OF MEN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Take another cigarette, won't you, Mr. Merriam?" -said Alicia, as the curtain at the -door fell behind Rockwell and Father Murray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me light it for you," she pursued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Merriam," she said, "perhaps you have -wondered why I am in this thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact he had neglected to be curious -on that point, but now he was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not reply. He could not, however, remove -his eyes from the felicitous meanderings of the -yellow rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hadn't you?" said Merriam, quite at a loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 </span><em class="italics">we</em><span> -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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was ready to give up. I told Philip so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Let's go into Mandel's,' I begged, 'and you can -call a taxi.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'No you don't,' he said. 'Here, we can get on -this one.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Bet you won't get a seat,' grinned Philip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 -décolleté and her cigarettes, she had a generous -heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tried to kiss you!" echoed Merriam, naïvely aghast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Alicia, with her eyes demurely on -the rose between her fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is no doubt that Alicia pronounced "man" -with a capital letter, and she looked challengingly -at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are to be married next month," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" gasped Merriam, his eyes staring in spite -of himself at her hand that lay on his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hand flew away as quickly as it had alighted, -but he still felt its soft coolness on his fingers as she -said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course all this is why </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why so?" Merriam's question came swift and sharp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought Rockwell said the League would collapse."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Possibly Alicia had forgotten this. But she only -shrugged her shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia detected its presence in his eyes and -judiciously kept silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll do it!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="stage-setting"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">STAGE-SETTING</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Alicia gave him no time for reconsideration -or after-thoughts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good!" she cried, "I was sure you would."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was sure you would," she repeated. "No -Man"--again the capital letter was unmistakable--"could -have resisted--the--the opportunity."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The curtain at the door was lifted, and Philip -Rockwell's voice said: "May I come in? The -twenty minutes are up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Come in, dear," said Alicia. "Mr. Merriam -will do it. We were just shaking hands on it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With Simpson?" asked Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Watching to buttonhole the Mayor if he should -come too soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked critically for a moment at Merriam, -seemed satisfied, and crossed to the telephone on the -sideboard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll ring up the curtain," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me Room Three-Two-Three," he said into -the telephone, his eyes smiling at them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later a harsh, dry old man's voice was -saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell clicked the receiver triumphantly into -its hook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right," said Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's a splendid girl," said Rockwell, his eyes -lingering on the curtain that had cut her off from -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell, still by the sideboard, reached for the -long bottle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have another glass of this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mind," said Merriam. The fact is, a bit -of stage fright had come in for him when Alicia -went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Swear?" he cried, as harshly as possible. "Of -course I can swear, you damn fool!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For three seconds Rockwell was startled. Then -he laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Merriam in a noncommittal tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rockwell did not notice. He was sipping -the Benedictine, with his mind on his problem.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where will she be?" asked Merriam as he took -a rather large sip of his cordial.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Probably go without him. She's used to George -Norman's broken engagements by now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," said Merriam without expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alicia and Murray will keep an eye on them, of -course," Rockwell added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then both men jumped. It was only the -telephone, but conspiracy makes neurasthenics of -us all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell answered it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes.--Good.--That's all right.--Oh!--Yes, -we'll go at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned excitedly to Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam followed out of the private dining-room -and down the corridor at a great pace into a main -hallway and to an elevator.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Several people looked hard at Merriam. One -important-looking elderly man stopped and held out -his hand:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How are you, Senator?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rockwell crowded rudely between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excuse me, Colonel, but we must catch this -car.--Very urgent!" he called as the door -clicked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Merriam had the presence of mind to add, -"Look you up later!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good----" Rockwell began as they stopped at -the main floor, but he paused on the first word with -his mouth open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The car smoothly ascended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three!" said Rockwell to the elevator man. -Then to Merriam he whispered, "That was the -Mayor! He's got away from Murray."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ask for your key," whispered Rockwell, as they -stepped out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the floor clerk--a pretty blonde of about -thirty--was looking at him with her sunniest smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your key, Senator?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, please," he managed to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lingered just a moment and replied in a tone -as low as her own, "They look lovely where they -are now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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----</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rockwell knew and was already moving to -the left. Merriam followed. In his relief he -smiled brightly back at the floor clerk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In!" said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No light or sound came from within.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For only three or four seconds Rockwell listened. -Then he pushed the door wide, stepped past -Merriam, and felt for the switch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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. -Reëmerging, he announced triumphantly, "No one -in the bedrooms!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell grinned at the look on Merriam's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hurry!" he cried, as Merriam hesitated. "The -Mayor will be here any minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why didn't he come up in the elevator with -us?" Merriam asked while changing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The telephone had rung, and Merriam had leapt -out of his chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Answer it," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A deep voice, boomingly suave, replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Senator Norman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is Mr. Black. Have you got rid of Rockwell yet?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eight-thirty," he replied curtly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, good God!" cried the Mayor, "that gives -us so little time. Can't you----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said eight-thirty, damn you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Merriam hung up and turned to face Rockwell -at his elbow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without a word Merriam turned to the telephone -again and asked for the desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a moment later he gave Philip Rockwell one -of the major surprises of the latter's life. For what -he said was:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What in hell!" cried Rockwell, belatedly released -by the click of the receiver from a paralysis -of astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing in hell," he said. "Quite the contrary, -in fact. I want to have a few minutes' conversation -with Mrs. Norman. That's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See here!" said Rockwell. "What funny business -is this? I won't have----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But this is serious!" he cried. "The -Ordinance! The Reform League! The whole city of -Chicago! You can't risk these for----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped. Then:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you realise, you young fool, that if we're -caught in this room, it will mean jail for both -of us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An outer crust of his consciousness made pert -reply to Rockwell:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That would be bad for the Reform League, -wouldn't it?" and added, "But you're willing to -risk it for the Ordinance?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am," began Rockwell, "but----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you risk it for Alicia?" Merriam interrupted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What has Alicia got to do with it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the youngster who spoke, still theatrically -calm:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better go into the bedroom. She'll be -here in a moment. Shut the door, please. And -keep away from it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Make it short," he pleaded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eight-thirty!" said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A gentle knocking sounded at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was on his feet without volition of his -own, while Rockwell, almost as instinctively, -slipped into the bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the younger man recovered himself, sat -down, his feet to the gas log and his back to the -door, and called, "Come in!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="boy-and-girl"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">BOY AND GIRL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it--George?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was only too clear that Mollie June's lord and -master was not in the habit of sending for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is--Miss Norman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was conscious that Senator Norman -probably did not refer to his sister in that fashion, -but he did not know her given name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Mary? I left her in the lobby. Did you -want her too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a note of eagerness in the question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silence. Mollie June stood waiting in the center -of the room. The significance of her failure to -approach her husband was unmistakable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he said: "Would you very much mind if -you should miss the theater to-night?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why--no. Is there anything the matter, George?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not for me," said Merriam, and he rose and -faced her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was afraid--" She stopped, looked hard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"George, you look--oh!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Merriam!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John Merriam stepped quickly forward. It occurred -to him that she might faint. He had read -many novels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mollie June did nothing of the sort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Merriam!" she cried again. "How do you -come here? Where is--Mr. Norman? How did -you get in </span><em class="italics">that</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me take your cloak--Mrs. Norman--won't -you? And sit down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't it funny you look so </span><em class="italics">much</em><span> alike? I -never realised it--so much. But--where is </span><em class="italics">he</em><span>? -Why----?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam caught up a small chair, placed it in -front of hers, and sat down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, Mollie June," he said pleadingly, using -unconsciously the name that ran in his thoughts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you send for </span><em class="italics">me</em><span>?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her question was almost too direct for him. He -could not say, to ask her approval of the plan -against her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had to see you," was all he could reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she knew the real reason. The turning of -her eyes away from him confessed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps that did as well. In fact it was, in the -reticent dialect of youth, the same thing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him a moment, then quickly away -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You never called me that but once before--to-night," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was almost trembling when at length he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was on--that last night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Aphrodite, who is always chary of -speech.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly he saw that her averted face was wistful, sad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you happy, Mollie June?" he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not--very," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now her face was fully towards him, and her -eyes had become dry and looked past him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mr. Merriam--you don't know! I can't -tell you----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was filled with horror--almost boyishly -terrified--by such dim visions as a man may have of -what her lot might be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I could only help you!" he cried, as earnestly -as all the other separated lovers in the world have -said those very words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">have</em><span> 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stopped as if that was a climax.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will wait for you always. Perhaps some -day----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hers did not move.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His fingers slipped under hers, ready to raise her -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not draw her hand away, but she said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You oughtn't to--now--Mr. Merriam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The formal name by which she had continually -addressed him pricked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you call me 'John,' Mollie June, just -for this quarter of an hour before the Mayor -comes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, the Mayor!" she cried in alarmed remembrance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Call me 'John,' dear--for fifteen minutes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his voice and eyes were both entreaty and -command, and Mollie June could not resist them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John!" she whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you know you have a right to me!" he -cried. "To send for me. To use me any way, any -time!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There came a loud knocking at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="passages-with-mayor-black"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PASSAGES WITH MAYOR BLACK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Mayor of the great city of Chicago was -hurriedly apologetic:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Apparently, however, he did not intend to withdraw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June crouched frightened in her chair, but -Merriam was rapidly pulling himself together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went back to her chair and held out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took it and rose. Her spirit, too, was reasserting -itself. She faced the Mayor with a smile:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, Mr. Black."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, Mrs. Norman." He bowed gallantly. -"I am very sorry----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," she cried lightly, one would have said -happily, "business is business, I know." Then to -Merriam: "You won't belong?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only a minute--dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(Perhaps we can hardly blame him for profiting -by the license his rôle gave him to address her so.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the light went on she turned and smiled at him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he turned to face Mayor Black.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shan't give any reasons," he added, sitting -down and picking up a pen. "Least said, soonest -mended--eh, Senator?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you're not to veto! You're to sign!" cried -Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" said Black, turning in his chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor's tone gave Merriam some realisation -of the seriousness of the new situation. But he -could only stand to his guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're to </span><em class="italics">sign</em><span>! 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how is this?" exclaimed the Mayor. -"Crockett said you fully agreed that the best -interests----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped, looking intently at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who in hell are you?" gasped the Mayor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was certainly startled. Perhaps he -showed it just a little. But he stood up bravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that so? Well, I guess it's my affair who -makes a monkey of me! I----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the Mayor stopped abruptly and stared. -Then suddenly he rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was told the Senator had left the hotel. I -think I was correctly informed. What sort of a -trick is this? Who </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Damn you----" Merriam began, with realistic -sincerity, but with the vaguest ideas as to what -more substantial statement should follow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment, however, Rockwell opened his -door and stepped into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, Mayor Black," said Rockwell. -"I believe you were about to sign the Ordinance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was </span><em class="italics">not</em><span>. In spite of the </span><em class="italics">Senator</em><span> 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I really think you'd better sign it," said -Rockwell. He spoke rather low.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" cried the Mayor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he thought he saw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's strong-arm work next, is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You certainly are a jewel of a reformer, Rockwell!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he saw a point and quickly recovered his -full grandeur.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't quite see how you're going to manage, -though. Of course, if it were a case of </span><em class="italics">preventing</em><span> -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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell smiled. He was in no hurry to reply. -Merriam still stood, as he had throughout this -unforeseen dialogue, a rigid spectator.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, in the moment's silence, very inopportunely, -a clock, somewhere outside, struck the hour--a -quarter to nine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell tried to drown it, saying, "I'm hardly -so versatile as that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Mayor had heard and understood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's it!" he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Catch him!" shouted Rockwell. "Hold him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get the paper!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twist his arm," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A very little twist sufficed. The Mayor gave up. -Merriam rose to his feet with the document.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you be quiet?" Rockwell demanded in the -Mayor's ear, and released his mouth enough to -enable him to answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said the Mayor feebly. "Let me up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood watching while the younger man assisted -the Mayor in the ponderous job of getting on -his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you aren't hurt, sir," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll get a brush," said Merriam. No longer a -Senator, he felt very boyish and anxious to be useful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor's rueful gaze travelling past Merriam -also rested on Mollie June. A light came into his -eyes. He drew himself up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Mrs. Norman," he said. "Your </span><em class="italics">husband</em><span>"--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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paid no attention to Merriam's angry and -threatening glance but turned to Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Rockwell," he said, "I think you'd better -give me that Ordinance after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell spoke in a low tone to Merriam:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get her out!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor had no objection to that. The older -men watched while Merriam walked rapidly across -the room to Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better go into the other room again, -dear," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mollie June's eyes were bright and her -colour high and her white shoulders very straight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You really will oblige us greatly, Mrs. Norman," -said the Mayor, "if you will withdraw for a -moment longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" said Mollie June. "This is my room. I -have a right to be here. And I don't like scuffling."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She cast a disdainful glance at their crumpled -shirts and dusty trousers. And, womanlike, she -sought a diversion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a mess you are in!" she cried. -"Mr.--George,--get the whisk broom from the bedroom -there!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an almost haughty command. And Merriam -rejoiced to obey this new mistress of the -situation. He darted into the bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two older men looked at each other. Rockwell -was content: time was passing. When the -Mayor started to speak he forestalled him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's really right," he said. "You can't leave -like this. And some one might come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was back with the whisk broom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come under the light," ordered Mollie June, -addressing the Mayor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That dignitary reluctantly advanced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turn around. Now, George, brush him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last the Mayor's broadcloth was fairly -presentable. Nothing could be done, of course, with -his shirt front.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, George," said Mollie June, "it's your -turn. Give me the broom."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Give me the broom!</em><span>" She took it from his -hand. "Turn around!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with her own hands and in the manner of -wifely solicitude she began to dust his collar and -lapels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You take good care of your </span><em class="italics">husband</em><span>, don't you, -Mrs. Norman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I try to," said Mollie June rather pertly, -dusting away. Evidently she had not heard enough to -know that Merriam had been found out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be pleasant," said the Mayor, "to have -such a nice </span><em class="italics">young</em><span> husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June stopped her work and looked at him -in sudden alarm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell stepped forward and caught her arm:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me lead you into the next room, Mrs. Norman. -You must let us talk with the Mayor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" she cried, snatching her arm away, and -turning eyes of angry innocence on Mayor Black, -"What do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June's cheeks were blazing. Merriam's -also; he could not look at her. But Rockwell -pulled his watch from his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor snatched it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused out of breath. Then, dramatically, -for he was always self-conscious and inclined to pose:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rockwell was before him with his back to the -hall door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've forgotten your hat, Mayor," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Damn my hat! Let me go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Presently, presently. I still think you'd better -sign the Ordinance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you mean to knock me down again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like nothing better, you--cad!" cried -Merriam, who had stood bursting with outrage a -minute longer than he could endure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the next instant he jumped indeed. A new -voice spoke--a woman's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mayor Black," it said, "you're a fool!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="aunt-mary"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">AUNT MARY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>All four of the actors in the little scene turned, -and Mollie June uttered an exclamation:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Mary!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June ran to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Aunt Mary!" she cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lock the door, Mr. Rockwell," she said, putting -an arm about Mollie June's waist. Her tone and -manner were vigorous and dominant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't," said the Mayor. "I'm late for the -Council meeting already. I've been shamefully -tricked, Miss Norman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," he said, "I'll stay ten minutes. -Never mind 'phoning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good," said Aunt Mary. "There are seats for -all of us, I believe. Take that one, Mayor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she turned to Mollie June:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you wish to leave us, dear, or to stay?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you leaving me out, young man?" -demanded Aunt Mary, who had watched him in -appraising silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam turned to her with the humidor, hesitating.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There don't seem to be any cigarettes," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have some in my pocket."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she looked up quizzically at Merriam, blew -out the match, handed it to him, and said, "Sit -down, Mr. Wilson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having seated himself, Merriam found Aunt -Mary looking intently at the Mayor, who was -smoking and returning her gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rockwell broke in:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How much do you know, Miss Norman? And -how do you know it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That gentleman did not reply. Merriam broke -the silence:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I sent for her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He said it very well--not defiantly, but as a -plain, necessary statement of fact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary turned in her chair to look at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor would have interrupted, but she -waved her little cigar at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 reëlection 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor flushed a little and took refuge -behind a puff of smoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I would," he said. Then, suddenly: -"How about Senator Norman? Do I defy him too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," said Aunt Mary. "He also will -go over to the people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you answer for him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I can. He will be forced to do so in the -same way you are. He too has been victimised."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell broke the momentary silence:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Norman has presented, so much better -than I could have done, the argument which I tried -to suggest to Mr. Black."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor jumped to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's there?" he cried, pointing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an instant Aunt Mary was out of countenance. -But only for an instant. Then, without -rising or turning her head, she called:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Alicia."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment's silence. Then a laugh, of a -premeditated sweetness which Merriam remembered, -and Alicia Wayward stood in the doorway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor and Merriam rose. Mollie June, too, -jumped up. Only Aunt Mary remained calmly -seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, Mr. Black."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor was a very susceptible male where -women like Alicia were concerned. He took her -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, Miss Wayward." But, still holding -the hand, he looked steadily at her and asked, -"Who else is in there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who else?" repeated Alicia, raising her pretty -dark eyebrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or were you whispering to yourself?" pursued -the Mayor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled at him in the manner which novelists -commonly describe as roguish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor smiled back at her, but he turned to -the latest arrival.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Were you in this plot, too, Father Murray?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How can you help?" asked the Mayor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's rather keen on me, you know," said Alicia. -"And he likes Mollie June and Miss Norman and -George Norman and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia only raised her eyebrows again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary rose and took the reins of business -into her own hands once more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's fair enough," he said. "I'll do that." Then: -"You know where Norman is, do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Aunt Mary. It was plain, however, -that she did not intend to communicate the information.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what becomes of this young gentleman?" The -Mayor looked at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will disappear where he came from."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me," said Rockwell, and he stepped to the -telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor addressed himself to Merriam:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you bring me my hat, Mr.--Wilson?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was near the writing table on which the -hat stood. He picked it up and brought it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam did not reply or smile but handed him -the hat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a taxi ready," said Rockwell, turning -from the telephone into which he had been speaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said the Mayor. He looked at -Mollie June, who stood some distance from him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like Merriam, Mollie June did not answer or -smile. Possibly she was imitating his demeanour. -But she bowed slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really," interjected Alicia, "Mollie June had -never seen Mr.--Mr. Wilson since before she was -married until five minutes before you came in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite so. Of course," said the Mayor. He -held out his hand to Aunt Mary. "You are a -wonderful woman, Miss Norman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"George shall telephone before noon," she -replied, shaking hands like a man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Till then at least you can depend on me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned to Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia kept his hand a long minute. "We have -always liked you, Mr. Black--we women," she said. -"In your new rôle we shall admire you so much!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The suave politician bowed himself out.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-senator-missing"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A SENATOR MISSING</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The members of the group that remained -looked at one another. Alicia dropped into -a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whew!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Murray crossed quickly from the doorway, -where he had stood silent ever since his -shamefaced entrance, to Aunt Mary's side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wonderful, Miss Norman!" he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary smiled at him--her first smile in that -scene. "Thank you, Arthur," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she added instantly to Rockwell:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See if George is </span><em class="italics">there</em><span>. 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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell turned back to the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hadn't you better sit down?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, if you'll move it up a little." She wanted -to be closer to the rest of the group.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pushed the chair forward, and she sat and -smiled up at him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell turned from the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's not </span><em class="italics">there</em><span>," he said, "and he's not been -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(There was a tacit conspiracy among them, on -account of Mollie June, not to refer more definitely -to George's destination.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not!" exclaimed Aunt Mary. Like the men, -she was still standing. She looked at Alicia. -"The driver was instructed to go directly there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Alicia. Then she added in a low tone:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The driver was Simpson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Simpson!" Aunt Mary echoed. "That's dangerous. -Why didn't you tell me that before?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What time is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was the most prompt in producing his -watch. "Ten o'clock," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And it was barely eight when George left the -hotel. How long should it have taken to get -there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Less than half an hour," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure he's not there? They might have -lied to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They might. But I didn't think so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Rockwell and I can go and see," volunteered -Father Murray, who seemed very eager to -be helpful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Aunt Mary was considering this suggestion, -Merriam had an idea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My voice is very like Senator Norman's?" he -asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is," said Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then let me telephone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good!" cried Rockwell. "From the bedroom." This -was, of course, to spare Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," said Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell shut the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Harrison 3731," he said. "Say, 'This is -George Norman,' and ask for 'Jennie.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment Merriam had the connection. A -not unmusical voice said: "Who is it, please?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is George Norman. Is Jennie there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't at first," he answered and stopped at a -loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can I see you to-night, dearie?" Merriam -obediently repeated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, can you come? Goodie! But"--the -unmistakably loving voice was lowered--"you must -be careful, Georgie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Careful?" Merriam queried cautiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Some one thinks you're here already."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you come anyway?" eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not sure. Don't wait for me long. I'll -come within an hour if I can get away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll telephone again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes--if I can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Georgie, boy!" There followed a little sound -of lips moved in a certain way--unmistakably a -kiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John Merriam played up with an effectiveness -that surprised himself very much.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dearie!" he whispered tenderly into the -telephone, "good night!"--and abruptly hung up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't need much prompting!" exclaimed -Rockwell, rising. "Well, she didn't lie to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's not there," Rockwell reported. "And he -hasn't been."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure?" Aunt Mary looked at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when she spoke her question both relieved -and startled him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At what hour in the morning does your train go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It goes to-night. At 2:00 A.M."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If George is back here by then, it does," said -Aunt Mary. "If not, you stay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary, who must have sat down while the -two men were telephoning, rose and walked up to -Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, by Jove!" cried Rockwell. "You can't -back out now. You can telegraph to--where -is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Riceville," said Alicia, who was leaning -excitedly forward in her chair. "Oh, you will!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, please--Mr. Merriam," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam smiled at her, but looked back at Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do," said Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then of course I'll stay," said Merriam.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="confessions-of-waiter-no-73"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">CONFESSIONS OF WAITER NO. 73</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rockwell," came the answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell entered, closed the door behind him, -and stood looking down at Merriam, who had lain -back on his pillow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Slept well?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Like a football player," laughed Merriam, -somehow ashamed of this fact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Feeling fit?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly. Always feel fit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I have news."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam waited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam evaded this thrust with a question:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where can he have been in the meantime?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I can dress," said Merriam. "I was -afraid I should have to turn waiter myself, having -only evening clothes to put on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, get into your things," said Rockwell, "and -let me think some more. This conspiracy business -takes a lot more thinking than mere Reform!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had no more than got into his trousers when -another knock came at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sure enough, Simpson stepped into the room with -his napkin and order pad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the sudden light Simpson whirled with a -startled and most unprofessional agility to face -Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Simpson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The waiter fairly moistened his lips before he -could answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Mr. Rockwell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">sang froid</em><span>--descended about him like a cloak -and mask.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was sent to this room--Mr. Wilson's room, -I understood--to take a breakfast order."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right, Simpson!" cried Merriam cheerily, -emerging from the bathroom in his shirt sleeves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment the human gleamed again through -the eyes of the functionary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you Mr. Wilson?" he asked. His manner -was perfect servility, but there was mockery and -malice in the tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir," was the ironical, stage-butler -reply to this sally. "The grapefruit is very good -this morning. Will you have some?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam glanced at Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very likely we'll have some," said the latter, -"but we want something else first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Before the grapefruit?" inquired Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson was undoubtedly agitated, but he controlled -himself excellently. He even lifted his -eyebrows:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope I know my place, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He raised his pad and wrote on it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grapefruit," he said with insolent suavity. -"For two? And then what? We have some -excellent ham."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Simpson only stooped and picked up his pad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we say some ham?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell looked at him a moment longer. Then -he laughed: "Ham let it be!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," said Simpson, deferentially writing. -"And some baked potatoes, perhaps? And coffee?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Rockwell, "and the telephone book. -Hand me the telephone book, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson hesitated, but this was clearly within -the line of his duties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," he said, and stepped towards the -stand on which the book lay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait!" said Rockwell. "Perhaps it isn't -necessary. I think you can tell me the number I -want."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused a moment to let this sink in. Then:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He indicated Merriam, who still stood in the -bathroom door, following the progress of the -interview with excited interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want to know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's better," said Rockwell, leaving the door -and preparing to sit down opposite Simpson. -"Will you have a cigar?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson shook his head and repeated his question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall have it," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment he stared. Then:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hate Senator Norman--enough to kill him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know why?" he unexpectedly demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all. A parlour maid ruined. A butler -cheated of his wife. It's nothing, of course."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was looking down again. Neither Rockwell -nor Merriam ventured to speak. When he raised -his eyes there was a gleam in them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man stopped. When he spoke again there -was more contempt than hatred in his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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. </span><em class="italics">Senator</em><span> Norman!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the story you wanted," he said. "Of -course now you can get me fired and blacklisted. -It's little I'll care."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still," continued Rockwell, "I think you made -a mistake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A mistake!" echoed Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes.--Do you still love--Miss Higgins?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that to you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, perhaps not, as things stood. But he -will now. Have you seen the morning papers?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The papers? No, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the idea?" growled Simpson suspiciously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, Mr. Simpson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that rôle," 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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson looked at Rockwell and then at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You certainly are as like as two plates," he -said irrelevantly to the latter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Simpson after a bit, "I'll think it -over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What if I choose to blow the whole thing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell let Simpson digest that for a moment, -and then said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, think it over as you have promised. And -now we really do want breakfast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson got to his feet. He straightened the -napkin on his arm and mechanically enunciated his -servile formula:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And, Simpson!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will talk with you again this afternoon. Till -then, at least, keep your mouth shut and think. -Think sensibly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Waiter No. 73 bowed gravely and left the bedroom.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="grapefruit-and-telegrams"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">GRAPEFRUIT AND TELEGRAMS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When the door closed behind Simpson, Rockwell -and Merriam naturally looked at each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor fellow!" said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The latter had apparently dismissed the incident -and was looking at his watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must shave," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, never mind that. Time is precious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going to shave all the same."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam sighed a certain relief and went into -the bathroom to shave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he knocked at the door labeled 323 it was -the voice he most desired to hear that said, -"Come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Mr.--John," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning--Mollie June!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come and help me," she said. "These flowers -must have fresh water."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thankful that no reply was immediately -demanded, Merriam did as he was bid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he reëntered the sitting room with the -fresh water, Mollie June stooped over the chair, -gathered up the roses, and came towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Set it back in the same place," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you sleep well?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He mustered his forces to reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid I did," he said, ashamed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him forgivingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment they stood silent, tacitly avoiding -reference to George Norman's ascertained whereabouts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Mollie June raised her eyes again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm worried, too, about--what we did last -night. We mustn't do--so, again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She met his eyes, very serious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" Merriam assented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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'!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Merriam gravely. He was -deeply touched by the unconscious confession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June turned away. "I must tell Aunt -Mary you are here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then there came a knocking at the hall door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mr.----," she began. Then, as Merriam -took her hand, she stopped short in her sentence, -laughed, and said, "Who are you this morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam, whom Alicia always stimulated to play -up, bowed over her hand as elegantly as he could -and replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Senator Norman, I believe--at your service. -Good morning, Miss Norman," he added, politely, -to the older woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Alicia gave him little time for speculation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">Mayor Black Signs Ordinance</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And one of the columns below carried the further -head:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics">The Mayor and Senator Norman -<br />Reported to Have Broken -<br />With Traction Interests</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary had joined them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Black has definitely signed it, you see," -she said, with a touch of triumph in her tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly!" said Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam looked at his watch. It was half past -eight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ought to send my telegram to Riceville first," -he said, "to let them know I shall be there on the -noon train."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After the grapefruit," said Aunt Mary, with a -decided note in her voice which led Merriam to -look at her inquiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's have the roses instead, Mr. John," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Merriam, to the scandal of Simpson, himself -removed the carnations and set the bowl of -roses in their place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Simpson was removing the fruit rinds -and placing finger bowls. Merriam looked quickly -at his watch again and spoke to the waiter:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring me a telegraph form, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary's absent-mindedness instantly vanished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What message are you going to send?" she -asked in a restrained voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Missed night train. Will arrive at noon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stopped with her archest smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June, with possibly the slightest -augmentation of colour, brought forward a practical -argument.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only senior algebra," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Eldon can take that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you'll stay and help us--Mr. John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson, with telegraph blanks in his hand, -answered it, and reported that Mr. Rockwell wished -to speak to Senator Norman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is--Norman," said Merriam cautiously -into the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," said Merriam, surprising his -interlocutor by his ready acquiescence, "I'll stay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good! I'll be down at the hotel in half an -hour." Rockwell rang off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam turned to face the three women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Aunt Mary heard the news about George, -she held out her hand to Simpson for the telegraph -forms and wrote.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment she read:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ill with a touch of bronchitis. Hope to be -back to-morrow. John Merriam.' Will that do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so," he assented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His words were almost drowned by a loud knock -at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But before Merriam could obey the door was -suddenly opened.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-change-of-management"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A CHANGE OF MANAGEMENT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Mr. Thompson," said Aunt -Mary. "We were just having breakfast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sorry to break in this way," Thompson -said--even he was slightly abashed,--"but I've got -to speak to the Senator."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come back a little later, Mr. Thompson," -ventured Merriam in a hoarse whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The "Mr." was a false note, and its effect was -to anger Thompson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What in--what's the meaning of all this--this -stuff in the papers?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia's eyebrows rose. She rose herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps we had better withdraw," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I think I'll remain, Mr. Thompson," she -said pleasantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he looked at Simpson, and the latter cast -an inquiring glance at Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may stay, please, Simpson," said she. -"We shall be finishing our breakfast presently."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before Thompson could digest this snub Alicia -reëntered from the bedroom. She carried a white -knitted wool scarf, with which she went to Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you feel chilly, George?" she asked. -"You can't be too careful with that throat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She flashed a glance at Aunt Mary and returned -to the bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thompson had drawn a folded newspaper from -his coat pocket. He struck it with his other hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll see about that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thompson was rather encouraged than otherwise -by this remark. He had not, of course, expected -any immediate acquiescence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't I?" asked Merriam, not unskillfully fishing -for further revelations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 </span><em class="italics">let</em><span> 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> -name them.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That for your threats!" he finished grandly -and snapped his fingers, thanking heaven for the -rôle 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thompson, who, had unwontedly removed his -cigar from his mouth at Merriam's speech, now -backed away from the huddled figure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think you'd do that!" he said, in a voice in -which cynical scorn contended with something a -little like fright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not unless I am forced to," said Merriam. -"But I have chosen a new course, and I mean to -follow it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" asked Merriam quickly, -and his voice faltered ever so little, a fact which -the other did not miss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Thompson's turn to enjoy himself. He -could not refrain from following up this new vein.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thompson's follow-up attack was a mistake. It -gave Merriam time to think and decide upon his -course.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> at Reiberg's last night," he said, -recovering his loftiness and adding coldness -thereto. "Nor anywhere else. I spent the night -in this hotel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thompson seemed decidedly nonplused at this. -The real Norman had always been amenable to -threats and on the whole patient under abuse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you mean," he burst out, "that I'm not to -be your manager? You turn me down cold?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this juncture there came a quick, light knock -at the door to which Merriam had just referred so -grandly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson looked quickly at Aunt Mary and then -at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me know who it is," said the latter, -realising that he must seem to be in command.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Simpson opened the door it was Rockwell -who pushed past him. He stopped short before -Thompson (with his cigar) in hostile confrontation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cautiously Merriam peered around the off side -of his high backed chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Thompson," he said, "you know Mr. Rockwell, -I believe. My new manager!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm through!" he said. Then to Merriam: -"I'll use your door all right--for the last time--till -you send for me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He caught up his hat and walked past Rockwell, -within an inch of brushing against him but not -looking at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the door he turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've read your morning papers, I suppose! -Have you read </span><em class="italics">Tidbits</em><span>? Take a look at it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door slammed behind him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="holding-the-fort"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HOLDING THE FORT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Philip," said Alicia to her -fiancé.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she turned to Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you did splendidly!" she cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I?" said Merriam, awkwardly trying to get -the woolen scarf off his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Possibly Mollie June's recent prostration -accounted for the color in her cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I'll help you," said Mollie June, moving -somewhat timidly in Merriam's direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He met her more than half way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please," he said. "I'm all bound round with -a woolen string."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June drew the ends of the scarf down off -his shoulders and untied the loose knot under his -chin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There!" she said, looking up at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam snatched the thing off his head, ruffling -his hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell's voice reached them across the room. -Aunt Mary had been hurriedly narrating the -happenings with Thompson. He now looked -approvingly at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June betrayed an embarrassed uneasiness. -Merriam wondered just how much she knew of her -husband's whereabouts--of his escapades in general.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," said Merriam and turned towards -Senator Norman's bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll show you where things are," said Rockwell, -accompanying him. "I explored a bit last night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the bedroom with the door closed behind them, -Merriam hesitated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he crossed to a closet, from which in a -moment he emerged with a bath robe and a pair of -bedroom slippers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A knock sounded at the door into the sitting -room. Rockwell answered it and returned grinning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had forgotten," said Merriam, realising -nevertheless that he was very hungry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell dropped into a comfortable chair. "It's -rather good fun," he said. "This conspiracy -business. I do hope we can pull it through."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell soon returned, carrying a tray on which -was a plate of really fine ham, with rolls and butter -and a cup of coffee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell drew up a chair and for several minutes -sat smoking in silence. Then he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you catch Thompson's parting shot about </span><em class="italics">Tidbits</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," Merriam replied, without interrupting -operations. "What did he mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell drew a clipping from his pocket. -"Listen," he said, and read the following:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics">The Senator's Night Off</em></p> -<!-- --> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finally, with we fear little of his money left -about him, he was charitably carried off by the -chauffeur of his waiting taxi.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, well, after the arduous strain of -legislative labours, one doubtless feels the need of -a little relaxation. We hope the Senator -enjoyed himself.</span></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Rockwell folded up his clipping. "A tolerably -close paraphrase of Simpson's story," he remarked. -"They have the facts pretty straight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is this </span><em class="italics">Tidbits</em><span>?" asked Merriam, sitting -on his pillow with the tray in his lap. He had -stopped eating.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That article doesn't say where he went afterwards," -said Merriam. "But Thompson knew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're keeping that in reserve. Listen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Male voices were audible from the sitting room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The reporters!" exclaimed Rockwell. "I'll -take that tray. Lie down and cover up. I must -go and help Aunt Mary hold the fort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam finished his coffee in a gulp, and Rockwell -set the tray on the seat of a chair and hastily -entered the sitting room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the door opened, and Aunt Mary and -Rockwell entered. Merriam had closed his eyes, -but Rockwell speedily opened them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you can wake up," he said. "It's all right. -The coast is clear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam rolled over so as to lie on his back. -"Well, what next?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary and Rockwell looked at each, other. -Rockwell spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In any case she almost immediately added a -rather formal "Good morning," and returned to -the sitting room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell lingered a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam thought with a panic of his school.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not unless it's absolutely necessary," he replied -with a good deal of emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam disposed himself as discreetly as -possible under the bedclothes and answered it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia opened the door and peeped. "May I -come in?" She opened it wider and came through. -"I'm the chaperon, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you?" asked Merriam smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia was pleased by his smile and said so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I always like it when people laugh at the idea -of my being a chaperon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, so long as it seems funny for a woman to be -a chaperon she's young."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems funny for you," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's very nicely said," returned Alicia. -"Come in, Mollie June."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Mollie June did not appear, Alicia looked -into the sitting room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why," she said, "she must have gone into her -bedroom. I do believe she's doing her hair -over." And Alicia raised her eyebrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of hope deferred Merriam was made -happy. He recalled the supreme necessity of -shaving earlier that morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia dropped into the chair by the bed in which -Rockwell had sat and pretended to scan the -invalid's face solicitously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should say, Senator," she remarked, "that -you do not </span><em class="italics">look</em><span> like a very sick man. Your -condition must be improving. We can hope you will be -able to take a little nourishment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can hope that all right," grinned the invalid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've ordered----" Alicia, making talk, -plunged into the details of a quite elaborate refection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia caught Merriam's glance and read his -thoughts and smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" asked Mollie June suspiciously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is what?" said Merriam, lamely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Senator has been very humorous over the -meal I have ordered," explained Alicia more -deftly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't call him the Senator!" cried Mollie June. -"His name is"--her eyes met Merriam's for an -instant--"Mr. John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you hear often from the girls in Riceville?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not very often," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We can hardly describe this reply as helpful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again he struggled mightily, with the banal kind -of result that usually follows such paroxysms -conversational topic-hunting:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must find your life here and in Washington -wonderful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seemed so, at first," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it didn't last?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was conscious of danger on this tack -but he must have a moment's rest before he could -wrestle with the void again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know about that then?" he asked gently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know about this Jennie Higgins?" Merriam asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. I've seen her and talked with her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How?" was Merriam's startled question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a moment she added, "And sweet and--warm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how any man can leave you----" cried -Merriam, treading recklessly on several kinds of -dynamite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You haven't seen her," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June looked at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," she said. "What else can I do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the thought which had inevitably come -to him forced itself almost against his will to -expression:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You could divorce him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what if it did? How about you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she loves him, you know. She thinks he -can be brought to change his ways. She believes -in him still."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Mollie June, with the clear-eyed -cruel simplicity of youth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He may die," was the thought in Merriam's -mind, but this could not be said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June!" he cried, his voice softly raised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not look at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She turned her eyes upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why didn't you tell me that--in Riceville?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June rose and came to the bedside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," she said with womanly gentleness. -"You couldn't, of course. Because you were so -poor. I ought to have waited--John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We mustn't talk like this. I must go. I'll tell -Alicia we are--bored!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall see you at dinner," she said with a brave -smile, and, turning, walked quickly out of the -room.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="council-of-war"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">COUNCIL OF WAR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell appeared in the doorway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come into this other room," he said. "We -must hold a council of war."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I dress?" asked Merriam, gladly getting -out of bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," said Rockwell impatiently. "Just -put on your bath robe and slippers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam blankly perceived that the sitting room -was empty--of Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She has a slight headache," said Alicia kindly--suffering -still, we may hope, from pangs of conscience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, all of you," said Aunt Mary suddenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three younger persons present--even Rockwell -seemed youthful beside Aunt Mary in her -dominant mood--rather hurriedly found seats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the door locked, Philip?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell rose, went to the hall door, turned the -key, and returned to his chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him," said Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell's budget of news was certainly -considerable and important.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">Tidbits</em><span>, 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I have to play the Senator there?" -gasped Merriam--"in public!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does Mr. Wayward know?" asked Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of the impersonation? Not yet. But Alicia -shall prepare him in advance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia nodded. "That's all right," she said. -"Daddy will enjoy it. He'll think it's a huge joke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do they have luncheons and speeches every -day?" asked Merriam, sparring for time, for of -course he saw what was coming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if George Norman isn't able to speak?" -queried Alicia, fearlessly coming to the point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you'll have to make the speech!" said -Rockwell bluntly to Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how can I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were a debater in college."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but the speech itself----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Aunt Mary will fix you up with a speech."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam turned to that silent mistress of the -situation, sitting calmly in the senatorial -armchair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But my school!" cried Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll have to send another telegram," said -Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't desert us now, Mr. Merriam," cried -Alicia. "When it means so much to Aunt Mary -and Philip and Mollie June!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. I'll telegraph again," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What shall I write?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam collected himself as best he could under -Alicia's admiring, expectant eyes and Aunt Mary's -steady regard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better," he dictated, "but doctor won't let me -leave to-night. Expect to be down to-morrow -night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's good," said Aunt Mary, in a tone of -quiet approval which gratified Merriam more -probably than he realised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell finished writing and turned in his -chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> go over to see you," said Alicia, with -an unmistakable emphasis on the "all." "We -shall have so much to thank you for!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam did not reply to this cordial remark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why do we go to the University Club?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Alicia and Rockwell had departed Merriam -sought to return to his--the Senator's--bedroom. -But Aunt Mary detained him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Mr. Merriam," she said, kindly -enough but in a manner that demanded -unquestioning obedience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she rose and entered Mollie June's bedroom -but immediately returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June is dressing for dinner," she said. -An instant's pause. Then, looking hard at Merriam, -"She's a lovely child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both the look and the final word provoked Merriam -to a sort of resentment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe she's as much of a child as you -think," he said boldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It depends on the point of view, no doubt," said -Aunt Mary drily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You give a good account of yourself," she said. -"You are worthy of the Norman blood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Greater praise than that no man could have from -Aunt Mary, as Merriam dimly realised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish George were more like you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Immediately she added, with a conscious return -to dominating briskness:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must dress. So must I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And she rose and without looking again at -Merriam went into Mollie June's bedroom.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-senatorial-dinner"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE SENATORIAL DINNER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">sang froid</em><span> he -needed for his imminent rôle of a particularly -debonair senator of the United States acting as host -to a brilliant dinner party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half past six precisely, Aunt Mary knocked -on his door and he opened that door and announced -himself ready.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must go right down, mustn't we?" she said, -raising her eyes from the roses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Aunt Mary, in a tone of jarring -briskness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary and Mollie June passed through the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This must be great fun for you," said Dr. Hobart -as they went down the hall towards the -elevators.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment or two more they had reached the -basement floor, which was their destination.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Splendid!" he whispered to Merriam. "You -would have fooled me all right," and he beamed -delightedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say something to me," whispered Alicia. "You -mustn't look self-conscious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam glanced at her and realised for the first -time that evening her vivid, vigorous, peony-like -beauty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bravo, Boy Senator!" applauded Alicia, and -then they reached the haven of that alcove which -Rockwell had promised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment the whole party had arrived and -been seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A canapé 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 -rôle 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll go," said Rockwell. "You stay here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the boy returned again with the same -note, at the bottom of which was scribbled: -"Come--Room D. Rockwell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam showed it to Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that his handwriting?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I suppose I must go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all right. I probably shan't be long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boy stopped before a curtained door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is it, sir," he said and waited expectantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam fumblingly produced a dime, and the -boy departed. Drawing a deep breath, he pushed -aside the curtain and entered Room D.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now tell it again," said Rockwell promptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The waiter looked steadily at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did just right," said Rockwell warmly, -"and we'll make it worth your while."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned abruptly to the younger man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Merriam! You're the only one who can save -us in this fix."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How?" said Merriam, to whom it seemed that -all was lost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell had worked himself up to exultant -enthusiasm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scarcely half a minute had passed when Rockwell, -eagerly scanning his face, cried, "You'll go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Merriam, looking at Simpson's -impassive countenance and surprised at his own -words, "I suppose I will."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-devious-journey"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A DEVIOUS JOURNEY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Rockwell, as usual, gave Merriam no time -for reconsideration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go and make your excuses at the table then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Merriam was still looking at Simpson. He -had perceived that the impassivity of the waiter's -countenance covered a blank misery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He dropped the hand and as quickly as possible -regained his servitorial manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam smiled at him and then spoke to Rockwell:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where shall I join you--Murray and I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At the Ladies' Entrance," Rockwell replied. -"It's less likely to be watched than the other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary's lips opened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll explain later," said Merriam hurriedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Rockwell will tell you to-morrow what I -have done," he whispered. "It is for your sake, -Mollie--June."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He straightened up. He was not flushed -outwardly. He looked almost cold. Father Murray -was making his way down the side of the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, all," said Merriam. "This way, -Father Murray."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell was already there with a taxicab. He -motioned to them to enter it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right, sir," said the man. "Jump in, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell spoke through the tube to the chauffeur:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That yellow cab!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll lose 'em!" the man replied, with reassuring -confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson spoke: "He's all right. It's the bridge -trick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell excitedly seized the tube. "Good -work!" he called. "I'll give you another ten for -that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir," came the complacent reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a sigh of relaxing tension Merriam sank -back in his corner, abandoning the peephole.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who do you suppose it was?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thompson?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, not Thompson himself. One of his -henchmen. He and Norman have all kinds of -assistants!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are we going?" asked Father Murray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell stepped up to the smiling chauffeur, -asked the amount of the fare, and paid it with the -thirty-five dollars bonus.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did the trick very neatly," he said. "Now -scoot!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir. Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was still no trace of curiosity in the man's -tone or glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come!" said Rockwell, and he led them to the -entrance of the Elevated Station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At Forty-Seventh Street they left the Elevated -and, walking to the corner, waited for a cross-town -surface car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the idea?" Merriam asked, his mind -becoming active again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was hailing an east-bound car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The car stopped at last, and Rockwell was getting up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they had descended into the street Merriam -found that they were at the end of the line -by the Lake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Illinois Central next," said Rockwell, grinning, -and marched them to the Forty-Seventh Street -Station of that railway. None of the others spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their guide bought tickets to the City. "Are -we going back to the Loop, then?" thought Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently one of the odd little suburban trains -drew up, and they entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell went at once to a telephone to call up -a neighbouring garage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop first at Rankin's Hardware Store," Simpson -said to the chauffeur, "on Forty-Third Street."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an address: "612 Dalton Place." That -meant nothing to Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Murray asked the question which Merriam -had so manfully (and youthfully) repressed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll see," said Rockwell, grinning, enjoying -the mystery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson remained as silent and grave as an -undertaker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The taxicab had turned several corners and covered -perhaps a couple of miles of streets. Now it -slowed down, stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There ain't no 612," said the driver through the -tube.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell took command again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't there?" he said. "Let's see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"612's a vacant lot," he heard the chauffeur say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So it seems," Rockwell replied. "Well, we'll -get out here anyway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Drive on opposite where 612 ought to be," he -said, "and wait. We'll be back by and by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell stopped for a second, then said, -"Come!" and quickly crossed the street and -entered another door of the flat building.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within the vestibule he stopped again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must wait for Simpson," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He began reading the names below the battery -of bells. Merriam and Father Murray stared at -each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They reached the second floor and the third and -continued on up to the fourth, which was the top -floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arriving there, Merriam found Rockwell pointing -to a sort of trapdoor in the ceiling above the -landing at the head of the stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right!" he whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson did not hesitate but pulled himself up -on to the roof.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson was about to open this second trap when -Rockwell spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a minute!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We were right," he said to Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Watchers?" Simpson asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two of them. And half way down the block a taxi."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now Simpson was carefully raising the trap-door. -After listening for a minute he put his head -down and looked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Coast is clear," he reported.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go ahead, then," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Simpson put his legs down inside, hung, and -dropped into the vestibule. Rockwell and Merriam -followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Straightening himself up inside, Merriam found -Rockwell facing the door of the right-hand apartment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is Jennie's!" he whispered.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="jennie"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">JENNIE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Rockwell knocked twice. A girl with a -thin, dark face peeped out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello, Margery," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how d'you do?" said the girl, recognizing -the speaker. Relief was mingled in her tone with -continuing caution. "Who's with you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends," said Rockwell. "Mr. Merriam, the -Senator's double. And Simpson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Simpson can't come here!" said Margery -sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" Still unwillingly Margery released -the chain and moved back, opening the door for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they stepped inside she stared at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The devil!" she exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said the young man, "my name's -Merriam. How do you do, Miss Milton?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment only she stared. Then she shut -the door and spoke to Simpson:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You stay here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Simpson, with more than servitorial -humility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell was advancing into the sitting room, -which opened immediately off the tiny hall, and -Merriam, feeling himself dismissed by Miss Milton, -followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he had no time for detailed observation. -For as they stepped forward the yellow portières -at one side of the room parted, and another -girl appeared between them--undoubtedly Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time he was surprised but hardly disappointed. -The figure between the portières 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment the portières closed behind her. -She was looking at the older man, having barely -glanced at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do, Mr. Rockwell," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam, almost with alarm, recognised the -tones that had so piqued him over the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she turned to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is---- Gee, but you're like him! I -wouldn't have believed it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Higgins, Mr. Merriam," said Rockwell -tardily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam responded awkwardly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you do, Miss----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Miss Jennie' will do," interrupted Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(Merriam remembered uncomfortably how Mollie -June had hit upon a similar "compromise.")</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ain't partial to 'Higgins,'" Jennie added. -"I'm thinking of changing it to 'Montmorency.' Wouldn't -'Jennie Montmorency' be nice, Mr. Rockwell?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think it fits very well," said Rockwell. -"You'd better change it to Simpson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Jennie's colour flooded. Then -came her retort to Rockwell:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind your own business," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie glanced at her friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," she said, "may as well sit down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She dropped into a chair and crossed one leg -over the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've come to take Georgie away," she -continued as the others sat down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See what your gabbling's done," said Jennie, -without anger, to her friend when he had finished. -"You always talk too much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can talk if I please," said Margery sullenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will pay you better to keep still this time," -said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pay me? How much?" demanded Margery promptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say a hundred dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A hundred----! I'm mum as a stone image. -When do I get it, though?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do I know I get the rest?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut up, Marge," said Jennie. "You know -Mr. Rockwell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Rockwell was issuing these instructions -Jennie's cheeks had grown hot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not that kind," she cried. "I've never -had any one but George." Margery also glowered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie's colour was subsiding. She had uncrossed -her legs and was sitting erect. She looked -fixedly at Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">have</em><span> done a lot for him," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," said Rockwell. "And you'll do this -to-night." He was using his most persuasive tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie stole an almost timid glance at Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It'll be all right," he said. "I shan't trouble -you at all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie's glance lingered on his face--the face -that was so much like Norman's. She saw him for -the clean, innocent, naïve 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," she said curtly to Rockwell. "I -suppose I will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennie, you're a fool!" cried Margery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut up, Marge," said Jennie, with whom this -seemed to be a frequent locution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell had already risen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is George dressed?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Jennie. "He's too sick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, then," said Rockwell to Merriam. "We -must help him into his things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He crossed the small room and passed through -the yellow portières. Having been at the -apartment earlier in the day with Aunt Mary, he was -acquainted with its geography.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie raised her eyes and looked at him--an -unreadable glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty sick," she said, almost indifferently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam paused a moment before the portières, -looking back, still meeting her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he turned his own away and pushed the -portières 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell was standing silent, also no doubt -inspecting the resemblance of which he had made -such remarkable use.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Senator was the first to find his tongue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you're my virtuous double," he said, with a -sort of petulant scorn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm the double," Merriam was saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's rather convenient just this minute," -said Norman, none too courteously, "though it may -be damned inconvenient in the end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll help you dress," said Rockwell. "We've -come to take you to the hotel, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about their third mutual detection, which -happened during the tying of the bow, Norman -laughed again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're certainly a pair," he said. "Whether -aces or deuces remains to be seen, eh?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gad, but I'm weak," he added, sinking on to the -bed as Rockwell finished his job. "You may have -to carry me downstairs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll carry you all right," said Rockwell. -"We're all ready, aren't we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so," said Norman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring his hat, Merriam," said the latter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell carried him through the blue dining -room into the sitting room, Merriam following with -the silk hat. Both Jennie and Margery were -standing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Norman waved his hand limply to Jennie over -Rockwell's shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bye-bye, pet," he said. "I'm all in, you see. -Sorry to have bothered you like this when I wasn't -fit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Georgie boy!" cried Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a little run she came up behind Rockwell, -caught Norman's hand, and kissed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll let me know how you are? You'll come back?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will, won't you?" she said. "Come soon, -Georgie boy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let them go, Jen!" whispered Margery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut up, Marge!" said Jennie almost fiercely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, be quick about it," she said. For the -first time her voice was harsh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Margery!" he called sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery, glad of any diversion, advanced quickly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A stepladder. Got one?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why--yes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go with her, Simpson, and get it," Rockwell -commanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Mr. Rockwell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This way," said Margery, and she and Simpson -passed by Jennie and Merriam, who stood a little -behind Jennie, and disappeared into the flat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Almost at the same moment Simpson returned, -carrying a rather tall stepladder and followed by -Margery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here. Catch!" said Rockwell. He tossed -Norman's silk hat up through the trap, and -Simpson caught it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he stooped, picked Norman up again, and -began to mount the ladder with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What in hell!" said the sick man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finally he spoke to Merriam:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He swung himself up on to the roof. The trap -closed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'll be damned!" said Margery Milton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam did not like profanity in women, even -in Margeries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very likely you will," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery looked at him sharply:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think you're smart, don't you? Are you -going to bring that ladder in?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-new-antagonist"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A NEW ANTAGONIST</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 -portières into the dining room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring it this way, please," she said, quite -politely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He returned into the kitchenette, which was almost -entirely filled up with a gas stove. Margery -shut the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Merriam, who began to perceive -that Miss Milton, in spite of her profanity, -had certain admirable qualities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went through the dining room, hesitated for -a moment before the portières--he could not have -said why--and then pushed them open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Mr.----" (she seemed to forget his -name and let it go) "and sit down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tripped across the room to the davenport -and sat, indicating that he was to sit beside her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam wanted both to take that seat and not -to take it. He took it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I forget your name," she said confidentially.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Merriam." It was not said stiffly. He was -too much attracted to be stiff. He realised that he -was answering her smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's your first name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I shall call you 'John.' I don't like last -names--and 'Mister' and 'Miss.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're stiff," he said, "playing up" alarmingly -as on a former occasion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She scrutinised his face, growing grave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're awfully like George," she said, "except here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She raised her hand, and with the tip of her -forefinger touched his chin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're sterner," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect I am," he said, trying to look, if not to -be, more so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie moved an inch or two farther away from -him, as if a little frightened by the iron qualities -of this male.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's Margery?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here," said Margery's voice, with disconcerting -patness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came through the portières and surveyed the -two of them with an ironical look that was by no -means lost on Merriam. He felt ashamed of himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And straightway his shame fled and he smiled at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery, however, was speaking in her most -businesslike tones:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've changed your bed, and you'd better get into -it as quick as you can. It's late now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Merriam, rising. "What time is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before he could get out his own timepiece Jennie -raised her arm and glanced at a small gold wrist -watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Five minutes after ten!" she cried. She -rose too. "You must hurry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moved to the portières--hesitated. He did -not know how to take leave under these novel -circumstances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, ladies," he ventured in rather -ceremonious tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To his chagrin both girls burst out laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">savoir faire</em><span>. Jennie -and Margery--yes, both of them were present--would -be impressed; they would laugh at him no -longer. Thompson was sacrificed mercilessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A light knock sounded on his door. Merriam -jumped and then lay still.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can I come in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Jennie's voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said, embarrassed; but what other -reply could be made?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie opened the door and came to his bedside. -She had changed her attire completely. She now -wore the costume of a </span><em class="italics">ballerina</em><span>--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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam lay staring at her without speaking, -subconsciously shocked perhaps, but openly -bewildered and fascinated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You look very nice lying there," she said in the -most natural tones in the world. "How do I look?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in a single rosy moment her revolution was -completed. She was facing him again and -relaxing down off her toes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do I look?" she repeated, smiling, with -the slightest natural augmentation of her artificial -flush.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam swallowed. "Stunning!" he ejaculated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She beamed. "Of course I do," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then her face seemed to harden. She stepped -closer to the bed so that she was almost bending -over him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take it," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A doorbell had rung loudly in the kitchenette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There he is now. Remember! When I scream!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was gone from the bedroom, closing the door -behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 portières -clash--the curtains had been sharply flung aside. -Margery's thin voice came to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See for yourself, then!" it said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's better," said the masculine voice in tones -half amused, half irritated. Was it Thompson?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Light footsteps and heavy footsteps crossed the -dining room together. The bedroom door was -opened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, George," he said blandly, "glad to see -you. Your little friends are very loyal. But they -couldn't keep me away from you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam instantly disliked Mr. Crockett. He -plunged with zest into his part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"George?" he inquired coldly. "My name's not -George!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, come, come, Norman! You're caught. -Fess up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who do you think I am?" said Merriam. "And -who are you?" he added in an insolent tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The impressive financier stared. He bent down -and stared harder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" Merriam demanded with all the hauteur -he could muster. And then: "Got an eye-ful?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Crockett was convinced. But he was a -gentleman of considerable imperturbability. He -merely straightened up and asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What business is that of yours?" said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Crockett blinked. He was doubtless -unaccustomed to such replies. But he merely asked -another question:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are you from?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Down State," said Merriam. That was both -insolent and safe: Illinois is tolerably sizable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How old are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam saw an advantage in answering this -query truthfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty-eight," he said. "What of it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam, somewhat startled, countered with a -flat denial:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Crockett scanned him narrowly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Somebody took you for Norman last night?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They sure did." Having struck the slangy note -by accident, Merriam was enough of an actor to -keep it up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be much obliged if you will tell me -about that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam's self-confidence returned. He had -been realising how little this dialogue was developing -in accordance with his pleasing anticipations. -Instead of the rôle 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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," said Mr. Crockett slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">Tidbits</em><span> story about Norman. Margery, who -had remained standing unobtrusive and silent by -the bureau, flashed Merriam a commendatory glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stimulated thereby, he pertly followed up his advantage:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Care for any more of my personal memoirs?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, thank you," said Mr. Crockett with a -rather sour smile. "Good night, Mr.--Mr.----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was angling for the name again, but with a -feebleness unworthy of a great financier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Blank," said Merriam. "I've a bit of a -reputation to keep up in my own home town."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," said Mr. Crockett again. "Well, I'm -sorry to have intruded. Take care of your reputation!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned away towards the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He isn't Senator Norman, is he?" she cried gaily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He certainly isn't," said Mr. Crockett, looking -at her. No man could have helped looking at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were awfully rude about it," said Jennie, -pouting. She had stopped about two feet in front -of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should say you were. Awfully! You ought -to do something to make up for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What ought I to do?" asked Mr. Crockett.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You might stay for a little supper with Margery -and me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Might I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unexpectedly Mr. Crockett looked away from -Jennie. He looked at Merriam, thoughtfully--a -disconcerting thoughtfulness. Then he turned back -to Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I might," he said, with a faint smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Already she had cried, "Oh, goody!" like a -little girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll take beer," said Mr. Crockett, mustering a -certain lightness and allowing himself to be pushed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll be careful," she said. "You did fine. -Shall I turn out the light?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Merriam. "Leave it, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She walked out of the room and closed the door.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="an-eventful-supper-party"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">AN EVENTFUL SUPPER PARTY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She interrupted herself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's your first name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said Crockett, "one of my first names -is Henry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I'll call you 'Harry.' I hate last -names--and 'Mister' and 'Miss'!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm 'Jennie,' you know," she continued. -"Now, what kind of cocktail?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll stick to beer, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I want to start with a cocktail! Have one -with me! Please!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Evidently Margery had returned well laden from -the ice chest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which kind will you have, Harry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cheese, thank you," said "Harry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There! With my own fingers!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie spoke with some confidence that the touch -of her fingers would render bread and cheese -ambrosial.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at any rate she was not easily snubbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her name's Margery," she cried, consistent in -her antipathy to surnames.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Margery?" said Crockett, complaisantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beer," said Margery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be very charming," said "Harry." But -the tone was merely gallant; it betokened no -quickening of pulse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must have a sandwich first, though," said -Jennie quickly. Even she perceived that she was -not making progress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nice boy you have in there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His voice was slightly lowered but only slightly. -Perhaps he did not realise the perfection of the -acoustic properties of flats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very nice boy!" agreed Jennie cordially.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam noticed with alarm just the faintest -touch of the effect of cocktails in her accent. How -many had the girl had by now?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you met him at Reiberg's, did you?" Crockett -pursued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Reiberg's?" said Jennie doubtfully, "Reiberg's?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect you took to him because he looks so -much like Senator Norman," suggested Crockett, -rather skillfully persistent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Jennie, "looks very like George. -But he's </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> George. He's John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John what?" asked Crockett mildly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John Blank!" said Margery sharply. "He -told you he didn't want to give his name. Jen, -keep your face shut!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, I'm sure," said Crockett.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have a cocktail now!" said Jennie, quite unabashed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then he heard Jennie say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get your mandolin, Marge. I'm going to dance now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine!" said Crockett. But he was still cool, -amused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery made no reply, but she evidently -complied. In a moment there came a preliminary -strumming on the mandolin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Help me up, Harry," said Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With pleasure," said "Harry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was helping her to mount on to the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Move that siphon off," Jennie said. "I might -kick it over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now sit down again," cried Jennie. "You can -see better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this frankness Crockett laughed. There was -the sound of his dropping into a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Marge!" Jennie commanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Margery did not strike into her tune and the -dance did not begin, for at that instant the -telephone rang.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was in the dining room, then!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a quick movement of chairs and feet. -Then Crockett's voice said, "Hello!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was answering it!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's not fair!" cried Margery. "It's not for you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep off!" said Crockett in a quick, stern -whisper, and then, evidently into the telephone, -"Yes! Yes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam leapt out of bed, revolver in hand, in his -pajamas and flung open the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You--you spy!" she screamed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam, in the door, pointed his revolver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Drop it!" he cried, meaning the telephone -receiver. "Hands up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" he asked into the telephone, and added -quickly, "Nothing! These girls are romping so!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his words could hardly be heard for Margery's -screaming. He dropped the receiver and -put the hand thus freed over the mouthpiece.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut up!" he said fiercely to Margery, and -gave her shoulder a violent wrench.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O--oh!" she groaned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Merriam caught up the receiver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! Hello!" he cried into the mouthpiece.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an instant no reply. Then Central's voice -said sweetly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your party's hung up." And added, in tones -of unwonted interest: "What's the row there? -Shall I send the police?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" said Merriam. "There's nothing -wrong here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hung up and turned to face the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Mr. Merriam," he said, "suppose we sit -down and talk it over--if these ladies will release -me, that is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Merriam!" Then the message </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," he said. "Let him go, Margery,--Jennie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll dance for both of you!" cried Jennie, whose -cheeks were decidedly flushed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" said Merriam. "Sit down, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Jen!" seconded Margery, viciously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well!" Jennie plopped petulantly into a -chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others sat, Merriam and Crockett across -from each other. The financier looked steadily at -the younger man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you please," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was that you should 'come at once to the -hotel.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam managed not to blink.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What hotel?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an instant Crockett weighed his answer. Then:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The De Soto," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Merriam had read the meaning of the -momentary pause: Rockwell had not named the -hotel--he wouldn't, of course--Crockett was guessing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," said Crockett lightly, "Mr. Rockwell -would be much more likely to telephone from the -De Soto."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was startled, but he could only go on as -he had begun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rockwell?" he echoed, as if still further mystified.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, come," said Crockett, "I recognised his -voice. I know it perfectly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No friend of mine," Merriam persisted. There -might be no advantage in continued denial, but -certainly there could be none in admission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, Mr. Merriam, hadn't you better tell me -the whole story? You'll not find me ungenerous. -I'll let you down easy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The whole story?" said Merriam. "Thought -I told you my whole story in the bedroom a while -back. What more do you want?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett shrugged his shoulders. He smiled -blandly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Jennie, rather sleepily, "I'm tired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have a cocktail," said Crockett promptly. -"Then you'll be all right again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie looked up with interest. "Well," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett rose to mix the drinks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll have one, too, Mr. Merriam?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Crockett addressed him, he rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he said. "I'm tired too. I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> sick." He -simulated a slight dizziness. "I'll go lie down -again. If you'll excuse me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moved to the bedroom door, affecting uncertainty -in his steps. As he passed into the bedroom -he called: "Margery!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="flash-lights"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">FLASH LIGHTS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In a moment Margery had followed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut the door." He barely formed the -words with his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She obeyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That camera--in the sitting room," he -whispered. "Can you take a flash light with it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure," came the whispered answer. "That's -what we use it for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you any rope?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rope?" echoed Margery's whisper. "There's -a clothesline on the back porch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring it to me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery looked at him. But a high degree of -mutual confidence had been established between -these two. She nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right away?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. </span><em class="italics">He</em><span> mustn't see it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She opened the door and closed it behind her. -Merriam sat on the edge of the bed, thinking hard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He wants a drink of water," he heard her say to -the others in the dining room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam tried its toughness and surveyed its -length.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," he whispered. "Now go back. -Drink with them. Jennie must dance. And have -Crockett sit where he was before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was at the end of the table nearest the -telephone and nearest also to Merriam's door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"R-ready!" cried Jennie, a little unsteadily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam stepped back and turned the button of -his electric bulb, so as to have no light behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie saw him and laughed to him, her eyes and -her cheeks bright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Johnny," she cried, and for a second -one pink leg pointed straight at him as she turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes, quite unsuspicious, returned to the -circling skirts and the flushed face bobbing above -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was Merriam's moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit still," he threatened, "or I'll choke you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery's tune had stopped abruptly, and Jennie -stood still on the table, staring down in frightened -bewilderment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Margery!" Merriam commanded, "take one of -these pieces of rope and tie his arm to the arm of -the chair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam, however, remained warily at his post -in charge of the slip noose while Margery tied both -arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Jennie, still on the table, shook her pretty -head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let her alone," said Margery, who had gone -down on her knees and was at work on the left foot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There!" she said, looking straight at Merriam, -as if she were a soldier reporting to his officer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you very much," said the young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come!" he said, "I'll lift you down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood still. "You don't like my dancing," -she pouted. "</span><em class="italics">He</em><span> likes it!" She pointed at -Crockett, who, twisting his eased neck about, smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll like lifting you down," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He set her lightly and quickly on her feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She made a face at him and dropped petulantly -into a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam turned to face his well-trussed victim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The said victim was now sufficiently at ease to -open the conversation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So he only answered his victim's smile with -another smile equally good-humoured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Insurance?" repeated Crockett.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Insurance that you will treat me with -that generosity which you half promised a while ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I promised nothing!" said Crockett, the smile -fading out of his eyes. "I refuse to give any -promise whatever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," said Merriam, still -good-humouredly. "In fact, I shouldn't count much on -promises anyway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're married, I believe?" he continued to -Crockett.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett did not reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And a church member, I presume? And a -member of a number of highly respectable clubs?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused and waited, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The smile was too much for Crockett. After a -moment of holding in, he said sharply:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, goody!" cried Jennie, ecstatically pleased -by this climax. But Crockett by this time was -staring at the story-teller with really venomous -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam avoided those eyes and addressed himself -to Jennie, the appreciative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cut that!" said Merriam sharply. "Do you -want me to tighten that noose again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett subsided with a snort that might have -made whole boards of directors tremble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me a cocktail glass in that hand!" she -cried. "Never mind what's in it. Anything!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam filled a glass from the siphon and put it -into the hand referred to.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine!" said Merriam. "Are you ready, Margery?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery was already pointing the camera.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He addressed himself to the victim:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ready!" said Margery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="virtue-triumphant"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">VIRTUE TRIUMPHANT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Margery, who had set the camera -down and stepped aside to open a window. She -passed into the sitting room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Damn!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie, quite regardless, eased herself on her two -legs again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gee!" she said. "I couldn't have held that -pose much longer. In another second I'd have -split at the waist!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam laughed. "Look what you've done," -he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie caught up a napkin and mopped the face -and head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett answered Jennie's smile with a glare -that might have caused a panic on the Stock Exchange.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had no very serious effect, however, on Jennie. -She shrugged her pretty shoulders and daintily -chucked him under the chin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That isn't a nice look!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this point Margery returned with a package -of flash-light powder and began to pour a second -little pile on the dust pan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take your pose!" said Merriam to Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that one," said Jennie. "It's too hard. Look!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine!" Merriam laughed. "It's better than -the other. Ready, Margery?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A second time he switched off the lights and -touched a match to the powder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Crockett had not even blinked so far as -Merriam could judge. Well satisfied, the latter -spoke to Margery:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put that camera away, will you, please, where -it could not be easily found except by yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Margery picked up the camera and departed into -the kitchenette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," she said. "He's no fun. He's very -cross!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Merriam addressed himself to the other man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett's reply was a sound between a grunt -and a growl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam walked around the table and picked up -the revolver where it had fallen by the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time Crockett had become articulate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Compel you to do so?" he repeated stiffly. -"May I ask what you mean by that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See!" Crockett cried. "Of course I see. -Blackmail! How much do you want for that -camera? Name your price."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It has no cash price," returned Merriam -steadily. "Now if I release you, will you leave -quietly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a long moment the financier stared at the -younger man who had worsted him. Then:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam was tempted to laugh at the stilted dignity -of this phraseology, but he managed to keep a -straight face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," he said. "Margery,"--for Margery -had just returned from the kitchenette minus -the camera,--"help me untie him, will you? Feet -first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My coat and hat!" he said, not looking at -Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the sitting room," said Margery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned himself in that direction and in a -jerky walk, with some support from Margery, -moved towards and through the portières. He had -disdained to cast so much as a glance at either -Merriam or Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie resented this. "Old crosspatch!" she cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam stepped hastily to the portières 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam advanced through the portières into the -sitting room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" returned Margery, with a dry laugh--the -first laugh Merriam had heard from her during -the whole evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See what he does in the street," she added. -"Raise the shade about a foot. I'll turn off the -light."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was fine!" Jennie's voice whispered in his -ear. "You're a nice boy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had crept up behind him in the dark. Margery -must have left the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her lips puckered. "Kiss me!" she whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he still only stared she quickly leaned forward -a couple of inches more--her lips rested on his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Margery!" he called.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes?" came Margery's voice from the dining room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turn on the lights!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time Margery had stepped through the -portières and pushed the switch Jennie had thrown -herself face downward on the davenport, crying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nobody loves me!" she sobbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After an instant's hesitation he crossed the room -and drew up a chair beside the davenport.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennie," he said, "listen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go away!" said Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> going away in a minute. But I want to -tell you something first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her sobbing ceased, but he waited till she asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> somebody who loves you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It isn't you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Merriam, "it isn't I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you mean George?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Merriam, "I mean Mr. Simpson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Mister</em><span> Simpson!" She laughed derisively, -not prettily at all. "A waiter!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 café 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the last words he rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's right!" cried Margery, who had drawn near.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut up, Marge!" said Jennie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at his watch. It was ten minutes -after one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must telephone at once to Mr. Rockwell in -Senator Norman's rooms at the Hotel De Soto," he -said to Margery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Margery. "The hotel number is -Madison 1-6-8-1."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is Merriam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God! Where are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At Jennie's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still? What the devil was the ruction there -when I called up?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll tell you about that later. Do you still -want me to come to the hotel?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly. As fast as you can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You got the Senator back all right?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam groaned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then for Heaven's sake come! We'll talk after -you get here." He hung up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and found Margery standing between -the portières, watching him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" she said sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Margery. "Go and dress. I'll -attend to that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went into the bedroom and began to get into -his clothes, working mechanically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he was ready--though with such a -loose and rakish bow as he had never before -disported--and emerged into the dining room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" he exclaimed. "This is grand. Margery, -you certainly are a trump!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do I get away?" Merriam asked as he sipped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Back stairs," said Margery succinctly. "I'll -show you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Munching toast, he enquired the whereabouts of -the nearest Elevated station and was duly -instructed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had a second cup of the black coffee. Margery -did not take any and would not give Jennie any.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We go straight to bed," she said decidedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tripped forward till she was almost touching -Merriam, stopped, and suddenly raised her eyes to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kiss me good-bye!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jennie was somewhat taken aback, yet she could -not be hurt by a gesture so gallant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, Jennie," he said. "I hope to be the -best man at your wedding before long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" she said, and withdrew her hand. Then: -"Good-bye!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you ready?" said Margery dryly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your coat's in the hall," said Margery. "I -can get you a hat too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Merriam, taking them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This way," she replied, moving towards the -kitchenette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll want to take this along," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he followed her out on to the back porch, -where earlier--ages ago, it seemed--he had -deposited the stepladder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you so much," said Merriam, as the coat -slipped on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he turned, took off his hat again, and held -out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, Margery," he said, shaking hands -heartily. "Thank you--for everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment they looked at each other with -mutual respect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Merriam said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going to send Simpson around to see -Jennie. Shan't I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can try it," said Margery. "Good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went back into the kitchenette and closed -the door.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="return"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">RETURN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Madison and Wabash!" shouted the guard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He descended the stairs from the Elevated -platform and found Simpson waiting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Simpson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Rockwell says you can get me into the hotel -unnoticed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson looked at him sideways, hesitated, then -turned and started slowly west.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Simpson, in a much less frigid tone -than before. He took the camera.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did she say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did Margery say?" asked Simpson quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She said yes, you should come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson drew a deep breath and stopped short at -a corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm very much obliged to you, sir," he said, -looking quickly at Merriam and quickly away again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam held out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good luck!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson grasped the hand and shook it intensely. -Then, resuming his really admirable self-control, -he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson opened the door, and they passed into -a bare hallway, pine-floored, plaster-walled, lighted -at intervals by unshaded, low-powered incandescents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me a boost," said Simpson. He stooped -and placed the camera on the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later they were erect and had begun -stealthily to mount the narrow stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is it," said Simpson, and he stooped, -opened the window, and climbed in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as Merriam had followed, Simpson -closed the window and drew the shade. Then he -crossed the dark room and pushed a switch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are we?" asked Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moved to a door at the side and knocked -softly four times--once, twice, and once again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Almost immediately a key was turned on the -other side, the door was opened, and Rockwell stood -surveying them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've made it!" he said. "Thank Heaven! -You weren't seen, Simpson?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think not, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked closely at Merriam. "You're tired," -he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I sure am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam took the proffered cigarette and dropped -gratefully into a chair. Rockwell and Simpson -also sat down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How's Senator Norman?" Merriam asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so. Well----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson went to the door and opened it. It was -Dr. Hobart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Norman and Mrs. Norman want to come -in," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell hesitated. No doubt he would have -preferred to hear Merriam's story himself first, -without even Aunt Mary present.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam meanwhile sat up, suddenly forgetting -his fatigue: he was to see Mollie June still that -night. He had not hoped for that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I supposed they would have gone to bed," -he said, to cover his involuntary show of interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're coming in, aren't you? Take this chair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pushed a rocker towards her, concerned at -her evident fatigue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came forward and sat down, then raised her -eyes to him with a grave "Thank you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For just an instant Merriam was slightly confused. -He had verified that description--all of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary and Rockwell--not to mention Simpson--also -listened attentively. When Merriam had -finished they looked at each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 début as an orator at noon, you know! Come, -Mollie June."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, Miss Norman," said Merriam, and -he advanced to Mollie June, who had also risen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, Mrs. Mollie June." He dropped -his voice for the last three words and held out his -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took it with an unconscious happy smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night--Mr. John," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whatever she may have feared or suspected his -story had established an alibi for him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-reform-league"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE REFORM LEAGUE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good Lord!" he said again and put his feet -out. "How's Senator Norman?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather striking poses," commented Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennie's invention," said Merriam defensively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No doubt. Well, they could hardly be better -for their purpose. I think Crockett will go slow -all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have--has Miss Norman seen them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last Merriam was collared and tied and was -slipping into his coat. Rockwell rose and laid -down the manuscript.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good. Go to it, then. I'll make myself scarce. -Here are cigarettes. You won't be disturbed. </span><em class="italics">Au -revoir</em><span>, Senator! If you want anything, knock on -this door. Either Hobart or I will answer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grinning, Rockwell departed into the real, the -sick Senator's, bedroom, leaving Merriam with the -typewritten manuscript.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Evidently his delivery was a little more rapid -than Senator Norman's. He must remember to -speak slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had just reached this conclusion when a -knock sounded at the side door and Rockwell -entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got it by heart," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good! Come into the sitting room, then. -You're to have a cup of coffee and a sandwich -before you start."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine. I am a bit hollow. How's the Senator?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell looked worried, but answered, "Sleeping -again now. Come along if you're ready."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In a minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia reminded him that it was really afternoon now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall meet Black in the car," said Rockwell. -"Then the roll of the conspirators will be -complete!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June, who had had no speech to learn, had -slept late and was now as blooming as ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're all going to hear you," she said as she -gave Merriam her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He left that dangerous remark unfinished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now Rockwell was at his side and barely -gave him time to finish his sandwich and gulp down -the coffee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A limousine was already drawn up at the curb, -and the hotel starter was deferentially holding the -door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mayor Black was already within the car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, Senator," the Mayor ejaculated, "I'm glad -to see you up again, and to have you--really -you--coming to the Reform League!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, as the Mayor still beamed at him and -as neither of the others spoke, Merriam said -gently:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm still the impostor, I'm afraid, Mr. Mayor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor leaned forward to scrutinise his face -and then turned as if bewildered and still -unconvinced to Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God!" cried the Mayor. "Speak before all -those people! You never can do it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, we can," said Rockwell, with smiling -serenity. "You were fooled again yourself just -now," he pointed out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor groaned. "Then we still don't know -where Senator Norman himself will stand when -he's up," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I telephoned you yesterday that he had agreed -to everything," said Aunt Mary coldly. "That -was true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"While he was sick," said Black. "Will he stick -to it when he's well again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He'll have to stick," said Rockwell. "Ten -times more so after this speech. He can't possibly -go back on that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It undoubtedly would," replied Rockwell -cheerfully. "All the more reason why we should all -keep a stiff upper lip and play up for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put out his hand for the cord to signal to the -chauffeur. But Rockwell roughly struck his arm down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Black groaned again and relapsed into a -dismal silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit tight, Mayor!" Rockwell warned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the doorman of the Club opened the car, -and Rockwell descended and helped Aunt Mary -out and Merriam and the Mayor followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Senator! Mayor! This way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pointed to two empty chairs on either side of -his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The toastmaster leaned towards Merriam and -whispered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're to speak last, Senator. Colonel Edwards -is next, then Mayor Black, then you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Edwards suddenly sat down. He was -one of those rare public speakers who occasionally -disconcert their audiences by stopping when they -are through.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The toastmaster gasped, but rose to his feet and -the occasion and called upon Mayor Black.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">sounded</em><span> like a perfectly -good speech.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor rose to a climax of thunderous tone -and eloquent gesture and sat. Loud applause -followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="second-council-of-war"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SECOND COUNCIL OF WAR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Merriam and Rockwell were alone in the -Senator's car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" exclaimed Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 </span><em class="italics">your</em><span> -nerve."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The phrase "even </span><em class="italics">your</em><span> nerve" was pleasant -praise to Merriam. He had never thought of -himself as possessed of any exceptional </span><em class="italics">sang froid</em><span>. -But perhaps he had behaved with rather creditable -composure in a trying situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">He</em><span> 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The machine stopped, and the door was opened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quick time, now!" Rockwell whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a life!" he ejaculated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 -tête-à-tête 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The pretty floor clerk, no whit nonplused, bowed -and smiled at Rockwell. But she studiously failed -to observe Senator Norman's presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Hobart walked down the hall with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How's Norman?" Rockwell asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Damn!" said Rockwell, with a sort of deliberate -earnestness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hobart," he said, "I suppose Simpson isn't -practically necessary in there." He indicated the -sick room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"N-no," said Dr. Hobart, "I suppose not. He's -just watching. Norman will sleep soundly for -some time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then ask him to come here, will you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The physician disappeared into the bedroom and -in a moment returned with Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Simpson stared. Then, as if -remembering a nearly forgotten cue, he replied -submissively, "Yes, sir," and turned to the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As that door closed behind Simpson, Merriam -suddenly stood up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must send a telegram to Riceville," he said, -starting for the writing table for a blank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a bit," said Rockwell. "You can send it -just as well an hour from now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia walked straight up to Merriam, gay -with enthusiasm, caught his hand, and squeezed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear boy," she cried, "it was perfectly -splendid! I've half a mind to kiss you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please do," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">sang -froid</em><span>, for he concealed his confusion, or most of it, -and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me turn the other cheek."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I mustn't be a pig," said Alicia. "I'll -leave the other cheek for Mollie June."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kiss him quick, Mollie dear," said the incorrigible -Alicia, thereby causing confusion in a second -person present.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mayor Black, no longer to be restrained, -saved the situation. He seized Merriam's hand -and pumped it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Wayward meanwhile was patting him on -the back and murmuring, "Fine! Excellent!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam turned to Aunt Mary:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tried to do it justice," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You gave it exceedingly well," said Aunt Mary, -with less reserve than he had ever seen her exhibit -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed you did!" cried Mollie June earnestly, -her eyes shining with sincerity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And that tribute, from the least qualified judge -of them all, was, I regret to state, the one which -young Merriam treasured the most.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently, however, they all sat down, with -Merriam beside Mollie June. The luncheon passed, as -luncheons do, in small talk and anecdote.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give us your report, Doctor," he said abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Undoubtedly," said Aunt Mary, with much decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam gasped and opened his mouth to protest, -but Rockwell waved him down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely yes," interjected Merriam, and Aunt -Mary and Father Murray and Mollie June and -even Alicia seemed to assent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this Aunt Mary almost visibly pricked up her -ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell us your plan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was like her--that masterful acceptance, -without comment, of the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Aunt Mary. "And he was to speak -in Bloomington and Peoria on Saturday and in -Moline and Freeport on Sunday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The speeches are all ready, I believe?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. George and I outlined them together -some time ago, and I have them written and typed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Crockett will know," said Father Murray -timidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The speeches will need to be altered a bit," said -Aunt Mary, "if they are to appeal to the progressives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose I could," said Merriam, "but--my -school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By noon, I hope," said the physician with -cheerful optimism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then the telephone rang, and I believe every -person in the room jumped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell rose to answer it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Senator Norman? Yes, he is here. But he is -engaged. This is Mr. Rockwell, his manager. You -can give the message to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later he put his hand over the receiver -and turned to Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He insists on speaking to the Senator. You'll -have to answer. I think it's Crockett. For -Heaven's sake, be careful!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam took the receiver:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A voice which he remembered only too well from -the night before at Jennie's replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is Mr. Crockett, I have the honour, I believe, -of speaking to Mr. Merriam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have the wrong number!" said Merriam -and hung up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a minute," said Merriam. He put his -hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him you will see him at eight o'clock this -evening, here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam repeated this message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At </span><em class="italics">eight</em><span>?" said Crockett, with significant -emphasis on the hour. "Very good, Senator. Thank -you." He hung up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Eight</em><span> o'clock?" questioned Aunt Mary, with -an emphasis similar to Crockett's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> 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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a gesture of resignation he went over to the -writing table and sat down to compose his third -mendacious telegram to Riceville.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-business-of-being-an-impostor"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE BUSINESS OF BEING AN IMPOSTOR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he had no time to reflect on this phenomenon, -for the party was breaking up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were four of them left--Merriam and -Rockwell, Aunt Mary and Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I pack your things, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why--yes," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Simpson," said Merriam suddenly, "you've -seen Jennie!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She let you in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson looked quickly at the younger man and -returned to his packing. "Yes," he said, "she did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When is it to be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The wedding, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As soon as you and Mr. Rockwell can spare me, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson closed the hand bag, closed the suit case -and strapped it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there anything else I can do, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The waiter hesitated. Then he decided to speak -what was in his heart:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam sprang up and advanced, holding out -his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm tremendously glad," he said. "I have -accomplished one thing anyway with all this -miserable imposture."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Simpson shook his hand heartily. Then:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I leave you now, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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"?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam sprang to his feet but did not speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Crockett over his shoulder--to -whom Merriam could not see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He closed the door and advanced:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it Mr. Wilson?" he asked ironically, "or -Mr. Merriam--or Senator Norman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it Mr. Crockett, the financier, or a -house-breaker?" Merriam retorted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Crockett laughed, but it was an unpleasant, -forced laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't accomplish anything by insulting -me!" cried Merriam, a flare of youthful anger -somewhat impairing his dignity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hardly so desperate as that," said Merriam, -smiling. The other man's long speech had given -him time to recover himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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. </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> not only suspect -but know. I haven't told any one else yet, but you -can hardly expect me to keep your secret indefinitely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You forget the pictures," said Merriam, as -sweetly as he could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett obviously mastered a "damn" and -chased the expression that rose to accompany it -from his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's keep to business," he said. "How much -is Rockwell paying you for this job?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Honour among thieves?" queried Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's insulting now?" Crockett demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Prudent young man!" sneered Crockett, retreating -nevertheless in the direction of the hall -door. "I understand that you reject my offer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I certainly do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And on the following day," retorted Merriam, -"those pretty pictures we know of will be published -in </span><em class="italics">Tidbits</em><span>. They'll be running sketches called -'A Financier in a Flat' in every music hall in town."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You blackmailer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the contrary you've tried to get me to take -blackmail and I've refused it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having opened the door, he turned and bowed -ironically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On this warning note he closed the door behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 rôle had dropped out that part of -it, and she was offended. How seriously he could -not tell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he opened the door she stood there with -a finger at her lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tremendously," said Merriam sincerely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come into the sitting room, then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arrived in the sitting room, he was further -delighted to find that neither Rockwell nor Simpson -was present. It was to be a genuine tête-à-tête. -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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The big chair is for you," said Mollie June, -seating herself in the rocker and adjusting the -flame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," he said and sat. Then a mingling -of pleasure and embarrassment held him -awkwardly silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June was apparently quite composed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One lump or two?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lemon or cream?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June," he cried, "there is nothing lovelier -in the world than your eyes when you look up -and smile like that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had not meant to say anything of that sort, -but it was forced out of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June's smile lingered, and the cameo -became faintly, charmingly tinted. But she -evidently felt that some rebuke was needed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Mrs.</em><span> Mollie June, you must remember," she -said gently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, taking up her cup and leaning back in her -small rocker, she asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you get along with the speeches?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, you won't!" she cried, as if shocked at -the idea. "You were wonderful this noon. I was -so proud of you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You had a right to be," said Merriam. "It was -because you were there that I could do -well." Which was perhaps partially true.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you go into it yourself?" asked -Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Public life? Perhaps I will. I may go back -to the University for a law course and then try to -get into politics."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That would be fine," said Mollie June without -much enthusiasm. "But you'll be at Riceville -next year?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so. I'll have to save up a bit more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may be at home for Christmas," she said. -"I'll see you then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam considered this painfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he said at last slowly. "I shan't be there. -I shall be away for the holidays."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You could stay over," said Mollie June, -wonderingly reproachful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollie June sat drooping, with downcast eyes, -her cup in her lap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly he was on his knees beside her. He -put his arms about her, to the great peril of -flowered china.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June!" he whispered. He softly kissed -her cheek.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She raised her eyes and looked deep into his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John!" she whispered back, though she seemed -to struggle not to do so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a moment he smiled sadly and got to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mustn't have any more tea," he said, as if that -beverage was too intoxicating, as indeed under the -circumstances it was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hurried to the hall and called the boy from -the second door down the corridor, where he was -about to pound again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment he reëntered the room, bearing a -lovely great bunch of fragrant English violets--and -thinking hard. But he was equal to the -emergency.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Mr. John," she said with a sad smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And just then Aunt Mary entered from the -Senator's bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See what Mr. Merriam has ordered for -George!" said Mollie June. "Isn't he thoughtful?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very," said Aunt Mary, in her customary dry tone.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-code-telegram"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CODE TELEGRAM</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not much," said Merriam. "But I shall have -the whole evening on the train. I'll get them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are we ready?" he asked of Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Waiting for Hobart--for a final report on the -Senator's condition."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aren't you coming to the station with us, Mollie -June?" Alicia was saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Aunt Mary will be here. I think she owes -it to you to come with us, don't you, Mr. Merriam?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Merriam, "I think she is right in -staying."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam moved to Mollie June's side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shan't see you again," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Mollie June.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 rôle as the wife of the dissipated Boy -Senator and he taught school at Riceville or--what -did it matter what he did?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His hand closed quickly on the violet, and he -turned to face Dr. Hobart, who was just entering -from the sick room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The physician was highly reassuring. The -Senator was doing very well indeed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He'll be able to meet us in Springfield, then, -to-morrow night?" demanded Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good!" cried Rockwell. "We're off. No! Wait."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drew a folded paper from his pocket and -handed it to Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Aunt Mary, accepting the paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam shook hands with Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be delighted," Merriam murmured, -though he had no great mind to be thanked by -George Norman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye. Thank you for--everything," she -replied, and her eyes followed his figure as -Rockwell swept him from the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Feeling better?" asked Rockwell, who had not -failed to note his previous lethargy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the automobile passed close to the curb on -turning a corner, Merriam caught one remark:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He does look just like a young man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, my dear," he said. "At least I'm -young enough to know a pretty girl when I see one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell had sat down in the next chair. Merriam -made an effort of memory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"East St. Louis next?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Rockwell. "We'll have to get at -the speech as soon as the train starts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then a small but vociferous urchin appeared -in the door of the car. His cap proclaimed him a -telegraph messenger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Telegram for Mr. Rockwell!" he shouted, as -though Mr. Rockwell were probably in the next -county.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He handed the telegram to Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What----?" he began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's code," said Rockwell. "I've underlined -the words that count."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Picking out the significant words by means of -Rockwell's underlining, Merriam read:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>George kidnapped from rooms whereabouts unknown -doctor disappeared cancel trip return Mary.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="simpson-as-detective"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SIMPSON AS DETECTIVE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His first comment was profane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 rôle 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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Mr. Wayward, "there's nothing else -for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's been a damn fool business all along," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose it has," said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good fun for you, though." Mr. Wayward lit -a cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Wayward puffed meditatively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Doctor disappeared,'" he quoted from the -telegram. "That means Hobart was in it. Probably -he was the chief agent. Crockett's bribed him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Probably they bribed the floor clerk, too," he -said. "Hobart seemed to be sweet on her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So?" said Mr. Wayward. And after a minutes -consideration: "Very likely. They could -hardly have managed without the floor clerk in -fact."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he added:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've got to go back all right. But I don't -what we can do except to surrender."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We still have my pictures of Crockett at -Jennie's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men smoked in silence for several -minutes--until Rockwell returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They continued to talk until the north-bound -train arrived and picked up their car, and they -were started on their return trip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 exposé of their imposture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And on that scene of unhappy farewell--for -what else could it be?--his thoughts halted. His -mind would go no farther.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam sank into a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Curtain up for the last act," said Rockwell as -he went to answer it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Mr. Wayward with Aunt Mary and Father -Murray and Mayor Black. Mollie June, Merriam -saw, was not with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in," said Rockwell, oddly formal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rockwell, having closed the door, turned and -after one glance at the group spoke loudly, with -exaggerated briskness:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Murray took Aunt Mary's arm and led -her to the chair Rockwell had indicated. Solemnly -they all sat down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell was both daunted and impatient. After -another look at Aunt Mary, he turned to the Mayor:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When did it happen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But before the Mayor could reply, Aunt Mary -spoke up. She was not so far gone as she looked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary paused for an instant on this -disastrous climax.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were wonderful," said Father Murray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you tried to see Crockett?" Rockwell asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a pretty clean get-away," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam spoke up. "I have some hopes of -Simpson," he said. "His continued absence may -mean that he is following some sort of trail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Mrs. Norman?" Merriam asked timidly -while Rockwell was pouring and passing the coffee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The coffee was drunk in a dismal silence. -Mr. Wayward attempted one or two semi-cheerful -remarks, but they fell flat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It appeared that no one had, and Rockwell was -looking up the detective agency, when the doorbell -rang again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Murray sprang to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you answer it," said Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the priest could reach the door an -impatient rat-a-tat-tat sounded on the panel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He opened to Alicia and Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good heavens, you're slow!" cried Alicia. -"And glum as the grave," she added, glancing about -the circle of faces. "Simpson has found George."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were exclamations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell put down the telephone book and went -to Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Alicia, turning, put her arms about his neck -and kissed him. "You poor fellow!" she cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Rockwell turned to Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down here, Simpson," he said. "Have -some coffee? You look fagged."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir. I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> pretty much all in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell drew a cup of coffee and took it to him, -and the waiter gulped it down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor assented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Rockwell seemed sunk in thought. -Then he roused himself, glanced around the circle -of faces, and spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can," said Mr. Wayward emphatically--which -was satisfactory since he was the person -present from whom any substantial monetary -reward must come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir," said Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Mayor broke in:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And he's still sick--perhaps worse," said Aunt -Mary anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went quickly to the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Rockwell was looking up the number and -the rest waiting in painful expectancy, the -doorbell for the third time startled them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll go, sir," said Simpson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment he had opened the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rockwell dropped the book:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Mr. Crockett. I was just going to -'phone to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last with an effort he turned his eyes from -Aunt Mary to Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have to tell you," he said, "that George -Norman is dead."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-final-dilemma"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FINAL DILEMMA</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Realising too late the brutal bluntness of his -announcement, he broke into a hurried flow of -words:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All eyes turned suddenly to Aunt Mary, who had -risen, holding on to the back of her chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Murray was at her side in an instant, and -Alicia hurried to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Aunt Mary, brokenly, "I'm not -going--to faint--or anything. But I want--to be -alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment Aunt Mary, walking between -Father Murray and Alicia, had passed into the -bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Wayward's voice broke the stillness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor fellow!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Rockwell spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Technically, Mr. Crockett, I suppose it is not -Senator Norman but Mr. Merriam who died at -St. John's Hospital."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(Merriam was somewhat startled at this turn -of thought; this phase of the matter had not yet -occurred to him.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have made no announcement?" Rockwell asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While he was speaking Alicia and Father Murray -returned from the bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What had happened? Yes," said Crockett.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam's thoughts flew to Mollie June, alone in -the vast, heartless hotel with the news of her -husband's death.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ought not some one to go to her?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Presently," said Rockwell. "We must first -consider the situation a little--hers as well as -ours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mayor Black spoke up:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a hard thing to have to close the career -of George Norman with such a story," said -Mr. Wayward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must never happen!" said a voice behind them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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--</span><em class="italics">it must be kept</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how </span><em class="italics">can</em><span> it be kept?" said Crockett, in a -tone of desperation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment no one spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Rockwell, looking from face to face, drew -a deep breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But that is impossible," said Mayor Black and -Merriam together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't he die at the hotel--to-night or to-morrow?" -said Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then what becomes of you?" asked Rockwell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I should go back to Riceville."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the earnestness of his argument Rockwell -evidently did not realise the gruesomeness of his -language.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary shuddered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" she said. "I will not have George's -body smuggled about the city."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She paused, looking strangely at Merriam. -None of the others, not even Rockwell, ventured -to speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alicia told me, I believe, that you have no near -relatives?" she said presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None nearer than cousins," Merriam replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But----" Merriam began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rockwell cut in:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's absolutely the only way," he cried. "The -only other alternative is to let the whole story -come out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then that's what we have to do," said Mr. Wayward. -"Make a clean breast of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" said Aunt Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crockett waved a feeble hand to indicate -forgiveness or indifference.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wilted financier uttered a sort of groan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But can the other thing be done?" asked the -Mayor, the perspiration of mental anguish showing -on his forehead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the property," said Mr. Wayward. "The -Norman fortune."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Reverts to me and Mollie June," said Aunt -Mary, who was evidently heart and soul with -Rockwell. "If we are satisfied----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June!" repeated Rockwell aghast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," said Merriam, somewhat bitterly. -Him, too, Rockwell had been treating pretty much -as a lifeless pawn in the game.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Aunt Mary, when roused, was equal to anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even Aunt Mary hesitated. But Alicia took the cue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or they can be married--or remarried," she -said, fixing her bright eyes, with a gleam of -mischievous understanding in them, on Merriam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come!" said Alicia vivaciously. "It isn't so -bad, is it? The Norman fortune and--Mollie June!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must think," he said, weakly, in response to -Alicia's exhortation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam's youthful heart bounded in spite of -himself. A trip around the world with Mollie June!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," said Crockett. "Hobart may -have held off on that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Mary will have to appear," said Alicia. -"She will want to attend the funeral."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very likely," said Merriam, rather in a daze. -It was confusing to be discussing the details of -one's own interment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So now he advanced a step and spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I call a taxi for you, Mr. Merriam, to -take you to the hotel?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course!" cried Alicia, jumping up. "You -must go and see Mollie June. It all depends now -upon her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said quietly, "it does depend on her. -You may call a taxi, Simpson."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="mollie-june"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MOLLIE JUNE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Almost before Merriam's brief sentence was -out of his mouth Simpson had started for the -telephone. But Mayor Black spoke up:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My car and chauffeur are below. We came up -from the hotel in it. You can use it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Murray had put Aunt Mary's wrap about -her, and Rockwell had got Merriam's hat and his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good luck!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Merriam, but his answering -smile was again a little cynical.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You put the essential facts before her and then -leave them--leave Mr. Merriam to do the rest!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then--too soon for him now--they were at -the hotel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they emerged on Floor Three, Merriam -asked for the key, explaining casually that -"Mr. Wilson" was a friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hung up the receiver and walked nervously -about the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then, as he stood in this anxiety, came Aunt -Mary's knock at the bedroom door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He started as if caught in a guilty action and -thrust the flowers back into their box before he -went to open to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Aunt Mary herself looked so broken that he -led her to a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, "How is she?" he repeated. He could not -wait.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is very quiet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You told her the--the plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She understood it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Am I to go to her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so," said Aunt Mary with a sigh. -"Mr. Rockwell said----" She stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriam showed her the roses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Should I take these to her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aunt Mary looked at him and at the flowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think perhaps you might," she said, and then -sat staring out across the fire escape.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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----</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a moment more of hesitation he picked up -the flowers and passed through the former sick -room to the sitting room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am so sorry," he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sorry or glad?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am terribly sorry for you," he answered. -Her hands lay together in her lap, and he -attempted to take one of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she moved them slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't make me strange to you, Mollie June," -he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad too," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes, which as she dropped them had rested -on the roses on the floor, came back to his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are glad I have to marry you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you don't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know I do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What else can we do?" asked Mollie June, -searching his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you do that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed I will!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Standing, he saw the roses at his feet. He -stooped and picked them up and handed them to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She accepted them passively, looking up at him. -Perhaps she liked him determined rather than -lover-like.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not answer but looked up at him, still -searching his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics">Statement by John Merriam regarding His -<br />Impersonation of Senator Norman</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wouldn't like to change your name, would -you?" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie June!" He was on his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She backed away from him, pressing her flowers -tight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you?" she demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not that," he said, not daring to advance -towards her lest she should retreat farther.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A woman always has to change her name when -she marries. Why shouldn't a man do it for once?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He started forward now and caught her arm and -led her back to her chair and dropped on his knees -again beside her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him, shyly now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For George!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then of course he put his arms about her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't call you George, though!" she said -presently, very emphatically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What will you call me, dearest?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled at him through her tears and with -a gesture that ravished him lifted his hand and -kissed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. John!" she whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He would have kissed her again, but she hurried on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll pretend to people that it's a nickname -left over from some game or play."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> left over from a sort of--play," he -answered, and then she was ready for another kiss.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>MOLLIE'S SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48626"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48626</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. 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