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diff --git a/old/62653-0.txt b/old/62653-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6bdc803..0000000 --- a/old/62653-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11895 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ball of Fire, by -George Randolph Chester and Lilian Chester - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Ball of Fire - -Author: George Randolph Chester - Lilian Chester - -Release Date: July 15, 2020 [EBook #62653] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BALL OF FIRE *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - The Ball of Fire - - -[Illustration: For an instant the brown eyes and the blue ones met] - - - - - The Ball of Fire - - - By - George Randolph Chester - and - Lillian Chester - -[Illustration] - - Illustrated - - - Hearst’s International Library Co. - New York 1914 - - - - - Copyright, 1914, by - THE RED BOOK CORPORATION - - Copyright, 1914, by - HEARST’S INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY CO., INC. - - _All Rights reserved, including the translation into foreign languages, - including the Scandinavian._ - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I NO PLACE FOR SENTIMENT 1 - - II “WHY?” 9 - - III THE CHANGE IN THE RECTOR’S EYES 22 - - IV TOO MANY MEN 35 - - V EDWARD E. ALLISON TAKES A VACATION 47 - - VI THE IMPULSIVE YOUNG MAN FROM HOME 59 - - VII THEY HAD ALREADY SPOILED HER! 70 - - VIII STILL PIECING OUT THE WORLD 80 - - IX THE MINE FOR THE GOLDEN ALTAR 88 - - X THE STORM CENTER OF MAGNETIC ATTRACTION 98 - - XI “GENTLEMEN, THERE IS YOUR EMPIRE!” 111 - - XII GAIL SOLVES THE PROBLEM OF VEDDER COURT 123 - - XIII THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 135 - - XIV THE FREE AND ENTIRELY UNCURBED 150 - - XV BUT WHY WAS SHE LONESOME? 158 - - XVI GAIL AT HOME 167 - - XVII SOMETHING HAPPENS TO GERALD FOSLAND 178 - - XVIII THE MESSAGE FROM NEW YORK 187 - - XIX THE RECTOR KNOWS 199 - - XX THE BREED OF GAIL 212 - - XXI THE PUBLIC IS AROUSED 221 - - XXII THE REV. SMITH BOYD PROTESTS 231 - - XXIII A SERIES OF GAIETIES 240 - - XXIV THE MAKER OF MAPS 250 - - XXV A QUESTION OF EUGENICS 262 - - XXVI AN EMPIRE AND AN EMPRESS 271 - - XXVII ALLISON’S PRIVATE AND PARTICULAR DEVIL 281 - - XXVIII LOVE 289 - - XXIX GAIL FIRST! 299 - - XXX THE FLUTTER OF A SHEET OF MUSIC 309 - - XXXI GAIL BREAKS A PROMISE 315 - - XXXII GERALD FOSLAND MAKES A SPEECH 325 - - XXXIII CHICKEN, OR STEAK? 334 - - XXXIV A MATTER OF CONSCIENCE 344 - - XXXV A VESTRY MEETING 353 - - XXXVI HAND IN HAND 362 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - - For an instant the brown eyes and the blue ones met _Frontispiece_ - - FACING PAGE - At 7:15 Ephraim found him at the end of the table in the - midst of some neat and intricate tabulations 51 - - She was glad to be alone, to rescue herself from the - whirl of anger and indignation and humiliation which - had swept around her 109 - - She telephoned that she was going to remain with - Allison; and they enjoyed a two hour chat of many - things 278 - - - - - The Ball of Fire - - - - - CHAPTER I - NO PLACE FOR SENTIMENT - - -Silence pervaded the dim old aisles of Market Square Church; a silence -which seemed to be palpable; a solemn hush which wavered, like the -ghostly echoes of anthems long forgotten, among the slender columns and -the high arches and the delicate tracery of the groining; the winter -sun, streaming through the clerestory windows, cast, on the floor and on -the vacant benches, patches of ruby and of sapphire, of emerald and of -topaz, these seeming only to accentuate the dimness and the silence. - -A thin, wavering, treble note, so delicate that it seemed like a mere -invisible cobweb of a tone, stole out of the organ loft and went pulsing -up amid the dim arches. It grew in volume; it added a diapason; a deep, -soft bass joined it, and then, subdued, but throbbing with the passion -of a lost soul, it swelled into one of the noble preludes of Bach. The -organ rose in a mighty crescendo to a peal which shook the very edifice; -then it stopped with an abruptness which was uncanny, so much so that -the silence which ensued was oppressive. In that silence the vestry door -creaked, it opened wide, and it was as if a vision had suddenly been set -there! Framed in the dark doorway against the background of the -sun-flooded vestry, bathed in the golden light from the transept window, -brown-haired, brown-eyed, rosy-cheeked, stood a girl who might have been -one of the slender stained-glass virgins come to life, the golden light -flaming the edges of her hair into an oriole. She stood timidly, peering -into the dimness, and on her beautifully curved lips was a half -questioning smile. - -“Uncle Jim,” she called, and there was some quality in her low voice -which was strangely attractive; and disturbing. - -“By George, Gail, I forgot that you were to come for me!” said Jim -Sargent, rising from amid the group of men in the dim transept. “The -decorators drove us out of the vestry.” - -“They drove me out, too,” laughed the vision, stepping from her frame. - -“We are delighted that they drove you in here,” quoth the tall, young -Reverend Smith Boyd, who had accomplished the rare art of bowing -gracefully in a Prince Albert. - -She smiled her acknowledgment of the compliment, and glanced uncertainly -at the awe-inspiring vestry meeting, then she turned toward the door. - -“My niece, Miss Gail Sargent, gentlemen,” announced Jim Sargent, with -entirely justifiable pride, and, beaming until his bald spot seemed to -glow with an added shine, he introduced her to each of the gentlemen -present, with the exception of Smith Boyd, whom she had met that -morning. - -“What a pity Saint Paul didn’t see you,” remarked silver-bearded Rufus -Manning, calmly appropriating the vision and ushering her into the pew -between himself and her uncle. “He never would have said it.” - -“That women should not sit in council with the men?” she laughed, -looking into the blue eyes of patriarchal Manning. “Are you sure I won’t -be in the way?” - -“Not at all,” round-headed old Nicholas Van Ploon immediately assured -her. He had popped his eyes open with a jerk at the entrance of Gail, -and had not since been able to close them to their normal almond shape. -He sat now uncomfortably twisted so that he could face her, and his -cheeks were reddening with the exertion, which had wrinkled his roundly -filled vest. The young rector contemplated her gravely. He was not quite -pleased. - -“We’ll be through in a few minutes, Gail,” promised Jim Sargent. -“Allison, you were about to prove something to us, I think,” and he -leaned forward to smile across Gail at Rufus Manning. - -“Prove is the right word,” agreed the stockily built man who had -evidently been addressing the vestry. He was acutely conscious of the -presence of Gail, as they all were. “Your rector suggests that this is a -matter of sentiment. You are anxious to have fifty million dollars to -begin the erection of a cathedral; but I came here to talk business, and -that only. Granting you the full normal appreciation of your Vedder -Court property, and the normal increase of your aggregate rentals, you -can not have, at the end of ten years, a penny over forty-two millions. -I am prepared to offer you, in cash, a sum which will, at three and a -half per cent., and in ten years, produce that exact amount. To this I -add two million.” - -“How much did you allow for increase in the value of the property?” -asked Nicholas Van Ploon, whose only knowledge for several generations -had been centred on this one question. The original Van Ploon had bought -a vast tract of Manhattan for a dollar an acre, and, by that stroke of -towering genius, had placed the family of Van Ploon, for all eternity, -beyond the necessity of thought. - -For answer, Allison passed him the envelope upon which he had been -figuring, checking off an item as he did so. He noticed that Gail’s lips -twitched with suppressed mirth. She turned abruptly to look back at the -striking transept window, and the three vestrymen in the rear pew -immediately sat straighter. Willis Cunningham, who was a bachelor, -hastily smoothed his Vandyke. He was so rich, by inheritance, that money -meant nothing to him. - -“Not enough,” grunted Van Ploon, handing back the envelope, and twisting -again in the general direction of Gail. - -“Ample,” retorted Allison. “You can’t count anything for the buildings. -While I don’t deny that they yield the richest income of any property in -the city, they are the most decrepit tenements in New York. They’ll fall -down in less than ten years. You have them propped up now.” - -Jim Sargent glanced solicitously at Gail, but she did not seem to be -bored; not a particle! - -“They are passed by the building inspector annually,” pompously stated -W. T. Chisholm, his mutton chops turning pink from the reddening of the -skin beneath. He had spent a lifetime in resenting indignities before -they reached him. - -“Building inspectors change,” insinuated Allison. “Politics is very -uncertain.” - -Four indignant vestrymen jerked forward to answer that insult. - -“Gentlemen, this is a vestry meeting,” sternly reproved the Reverend -Smith Boyd, advancing a step, and seeming to feel the need of a gavel. -His rich, deep baritone explained why he was rector of the richest -church in the world. - -Gail’s eyes were dancing, but otherwise she was demureness itself as she -studied, in turns, the members of the richest vestry in the world. She -estimated that eight of the gentlemen then present were almost close -enough to the anger line to swear. They numbered just eight, and they -were most interesting! And _this_ was a vestry meeting! - -“The topic of debate was money, I believe,” suggested Manning, rescuing -his sense of humour from somewhere in his beard. He was the infidel -member. “Suppose we return to it. Is Allison’s offer worth considering?” - -“Why?” inquired the nasal voice of clean-shaven old Joseph G. Clark, who -was sarcastic in money matters. The Standard Cereal Company had attained -its colossal dimensions through rebates; and he had invented the device! -“The only reason we’d sell to Allison would be that we could get more -money than by the normal return from our investment.” - -The thinly spun treble note began once more, pulsing its timid way among -the high, dim arches, as if seeking a lodgment where it might fasten its -tiny thread of harmony, and grow into a masterful composition. A little -old lady came slowly down the centre aisle of the nave, in rich but -modest black, struggling, against her infirmities, to walk with a trace -of the erect gracefulness of her bygone youth. Gail, listening raptly to -the delicately increasing throb of the music, followed, in abstraction, -the slow progress of the little old lady, who seemed to carry with her, -for just a moment, a trace of the solemn hush belonging to that -perspective of slender columns which spread their gracefully pointed -arches up into the groined twilight, where the music hovered until it -could gather strength to burst into full song. The little old lady -turned her gaze for an instant to the group in the transept, and -subconsciously gave the folds of her veil a touch; then she slipped into -her pew, down near the altar, and raised her eyes to the exquisite Henri -Dupres crucifix. She knelt, and bowed her forehead on her hands. - -“I’ve allowed two million for the profit of Market Square Church in -dealing with me,” stated Allison, again proffering the envelope which no -one made a move to take. “I will not pay a dollar more.” - -W. T. Chisholm was suddenly reminded that the vestry had a moral -obligation in the matter under discussion. He was president of the -Majestic Trust Company, and never forgot that fact. - -“To what use would you devote the property of Market Square Church?” he -gravely asked. - -“The erection of a terminal station for all the municipal transportation -in New York,” answered Allison; “subways, elevateds, surface cars, -traction lines! The proposition should have the hearty co-operation of -every citizen.” - -Simple little idea, wasn’t it? Gail had to think successively to -comprehend what a stupendous enterprise this was; and the man talked -about it as modestly as if he were planning to sod a lawn; more so! Why, -back home, if a man dreamed a dream so vast as that, he just talked -about it for the rest of his life; and they put a poet’s wreath on his -tombstone. - -“Now you’re talking sentiment,” retorted stubby-moustached Jim Sargent. -“You said, a while ago, that you came here strictly on business. So did -we. This is no place for sentiment.” - -Rufus Manning, with the tip of his silvery beard in his fingers, looked -up into the delicate groining of the apse, where it curved gracefully -forward over the head of the famous Henri Dupres crucifix, and he -grinned. Gail Sargent was looking contemplatively from one to the other -of the grave vestrymen. - -“You’re right,” conceded Allison curtly. “Suppose you fellows talk it -over by yourselves, and let me know your best offer.” - -“Very well,” assented Jim Sargent, with an indifference which did not -seem to be assumed. “We have some other matters to discuss, and we may -as well thrash this thing out right now. We’ll let you know to-morrow.” - -Gail looked at her watch and rose energetically. - -“I shall be late at Lucile’s, Uncle Jim. I don’t think I can wait for -you.” - -“I’m sorry,” regretted Sargent. “I don’t like to have you drive around -alone.” - -“I’ll be very happy to take Miss Sargent anywhere she’d like to go,” -offered Allison, almost instantaneously. - -“Much obliged, Allison,” accepted Sargent heartily; “that is, if she’ll -go with you.” - -“Thank you,” said Gail simply, as she stepped out of the pew. - -The gentlemen of the vestry rose as one man. Old Nicholas Van Ploon even -attempted to stand gracefully on one leg, while his vest bulged over the -back of the pew in front of him. - -“I think we’ll have to make you a permanent member of the vestry,” -smiled Manning, the patriarch, as he bowed his adieus. “We’ve been -needing a brightening influence for some time.” - -Willis Cunningham, the thoughtful one, wedged his Vandyke between the -heads of Standard Cereal Clark and Banker Chisholm. - -“We hope to see you often, Miss Sargent,” was his thoughtful remark. - -“I mean to attend services,” returned Gail graciously, looking up into -the organ loft, where the organist was making his third attempt at that -baffling run in the Bach prelude. - -“You haven’t said how you like our famous old church,” suggested the -Reverend Smith Boyd with pleasant ease, though he felt relieved that she -was going. - -The sudden snap in Gail’s eyes fairly scintillated. It was like the -shattering of fine glass in the sunlight. - -“It seems to be a remarkably lucrative enterprise,” she smiled up at -him, and was rewarded by a snort from Uncle Jim and a chuckle from -silvery-bearded Rufus Manning. Allison frankly guffawed. The balance of -the sedate vestry was struck dumb by the impertinence. - -Gail felt the eyes of the Reverend Smith Boyd fixed steadily on her, and -turned to meet them. They were cold. She had thought them blue; but now -they were green! She stared back into them for a moment, and a little -red spot came into the delicate tint of her oval cheeks; then she turned -deliberately to the marvellously beautiful big transept window. It had -been designed by the most famous stained-glass artist in the world, and -its subject lent itself to a wealth of colour. It was Christ turning the -money changers out of the temple! - - - - - CHAPTER II - “WHY?” - - -“Snow!” exclaimed Gail in delight, turning up her face to the delicate -flakes. “And the sun shining. That means snow to-morrow!” - -Allison helped her into his big, piratical looking runabout, and tucked -her in as if she were some fragile hot-house plant which might freeze -with the first cool draught. He looked, with keen appreciation, at her -fresh cheeks and sparkling eyes and softly waving hair. He had never -given himself much time for women, but this girl was a distinct -individual. It was not her undeniable beauty which he found so -attractive. He had met many beautiful women. Nor was it charm of manner, -nor the thing called personal magnetism, nor the intelligence which -gleamed from her eyes. It was something intangible and baffling which -had chained his interest from the moment she had appeared in the vestry -doorway, and since he was a man who had never admitted the existence of -mysteries, his own perplexity puzzled him. - -“The pretty white snow is no friend of mine,” he assured her, as he took -the wheel and headed towards the Avenue. He looked calculatingly into -the sky. “This particular downfall is likely to cost the Municipal -Transportation Company several thousand dollars.” - -“I’m curious to know the commercial value of a sunset in New York,” Gail -smiled up at him. Her eyes closed for a swift instant, her long, brown -lashes curving down on her cheeks, but beneath them was an infinitesimal -gleam; and Allison had the impression that under the cover of her -exquisitely veined lids she was looking at him corner-wise, and having a -great deal of fun all by herself. - -“We haven’t capitalised sunsets yet, but we have hopes,” he laughed. - -“Then there’s still a commercial opportunity,” she lightly returned. “I -feel quite friendly to money, but it’s so intimate here. I’ve heard -nothing else since I came, on Monday.” - -“Even in church,” he chuckled. “You delivered a reckless shock to the -Reverend Smith Boyd’s vestry.” - -“Well?” she demanded. “Didn’t he ask my opinion?” - -“I don’t think he’ll make the mistake again,” and Allison took the -corner into the Avenue at a speed which made Gail, unused to bare inches -of leeway, class Allison as a demon driver. The tall traffic policeman -around whose upraised arm they had circled smiled a frank tribute to her -beauty, and she felt relieved. She had cherished some feeling that they -should be arrested. - -“However, even a church must discuss money,” went on Allison, as if he -had just decided a problem to which he had given weighty thought. - -“Fifty millions isn’t mere money,” retorted Gail; “it’s criminal wealth. -If no man can make a million dollars honestly, how can a church?” - -Allison swerved out into the centre of the Avenue and passed a red -limousine before he answered. He had noticed that everybody in the -street stared into his car, and it flattered him immensely to have so -pretty a girl with him. - -“The wealth of Market Square Church is natural and normal,” he -explained. “It arises partly from the increase in value of property -which was donated when practically worthless. Judicious investment is -responsible for the balance.” - -“Oh, bother!” and Gail glanced at him impatiently. “Your natural impulse -is to defend wealth because it is wealth; but you know that Market -Square Church never should have had a surplus to invest. The money -should have been spent in charity. Why are they saving it?” - -Allison began to feel the same respect for Gail’s mental processes which -he would for a man’s, though, when he looked at her with this thought in -mind, she was so thoroughly feminine that she puzzled him more than -ever. - -“Market Square Church has an ambition worthy of its vestry,” he informed -her, bringing his runabout to rest, with a swift glide, just an accurate -three inches behind the taxi in front of them. “When it has fifty -million dollars, it proposes to start building the most magnificent -cathedral on American soil.” - -Gail watched the up-town traffic piling around them, wedging them in, -packing them tightly on all sides, and felt that they must be hours in -extricating themselves from this tangle of shining-bodied vehicles. The -skies had turned grey by now, and the snow was thicker in the air. The -flakes drove, with a cool, refreshing snap, into her face. - -“Why?” she pondered. “Will a fifty million dollar cathedral save souls -in proportion to the amount of money invested?” - -Allison enjoyed that query thoroughly. - -“You must ask the Reverend Smith Boyd,” he chuckled. “You talk like a -heathen!” - -“I am,” she calmly avowed. “I’ve been a heathen ever since a certain -respectable old religious body dropped the theory of infant damnation -from its creed. Its body of elders decided to save the souls of -unbaptised babies from everlasting hell-fire; and the anti-damnation -wing won by three grey-whiskered votes.” - -Proper ladies in the nearby cars stared with haughty disapproval at -Allison, whose degree of appreciation necessitated a howl. Gail, -however, did not join in the mirth. That telltale red spot had appeared -in the delicate pink of her checks. She was still angry with the -man-made creed which had taught a belief so horrible. The traffic -blockade was lifted, and Allison’s clutch slammed. The whole mass of -vehicles moved forwards, and in two blocks up the Avenue they had -scattered like chaff. Allison darted into an opening between two cars, -his runabout skidded, and missed a little electric by a hair’s breadth. -He had no personal interest in religion, but he had in Gail. - -“So you turned infidel.” - -“Oh no,” returned Gail gravely, and with a new tone. “I pray every -morning and every night, and God hears me.” The note of reverence in her -voice was a thing to which Allison gave instant respect. “I have no -quarrel with religion, only with theology. I attend church because its -spiritual influence has survived in spite of outgrown rites. I take part -in the services, though I will not repeat the creed. Why, Mr. Allison, I -love the church, and the most notable man in the future history of the -world will be the man who saves it from dead dogma.” Her eyes were -glowing, the same eyes which had closed in satirical mischief. Now they -were rapt. “What a stunning collie!” she suddenly exclaimed. - -Allison, who had followed her with admiring attention, his mind -accompanying hers in eager leaps, laughed in relief. After all, she was -a girl—and what a girl! The exhilaration of the drive, and of the snow -beating in her face, and of the animated conversation, had set the clear -skin of her face aglow with colour. Her deep red lips, exquisitely -curved and half parted, displayed a row of dazzling white teeth, and the -elbow which touched his was magnetic. Allison refused to believe that he -was forty-five! - -“You’re fond of collies,” he guessed, surprised to find himself with an -eager interest in the likes and dislikes of a young girl. It was a new -experience. - -“I adore them!” she enthusiastically declared. “Back home, I have one of -every marking but a pure white.” - -There was something tender and wistful in the tone of that “back home.” -No doubt she had hosts of friends and admirers there, possibly a -favoured suitor. It was quite likely. A girl such as Gail Sargent could -hardly escape it. If there was a favoured suitor Allison rather pitied -him, for Gail was in the city of strong men. Busy with an entirely new -and strange group of thoughts, Allison turned into the Park, and Gail -uttered an exclamation of delight as the fresh, keen air whipped in her -face. The snow was like a filmy white veil against the bare trees, and -enough of it had clung, by now, to outline, with silver pointing, the -lacework of branches. On the turf, still green from the open winter, it -lay in thin white patches, and squirrels, clad in their sleek winter -garments, were already scampering to their beds, crossing the busy drive -with the adroitness of accomplished metropolitan pedestrians, their -bushy tails hopping behind them in ungainly loops. - -The pair in the runabout were silent, for the east drive at this hour -was thronged with outward bound machines, and the roadway was slippery -with the new-fallen snow. Steady of nerve, keen of eye, firm of hand! -Gail watched the alert figure of Allison, tensely and yet easily -motionless, in the seat beside her. The terrific swiftness of everything -impressed her. Every car was going at top speed, and it seemed that she -was in a constant maze of hair-breadth escapes. By and by, however, she -found another and a greater marvel; that in all this breathless driving, -there was no recklessness. Capability, that was the word for which she -had been groping. No man could survive here, and rest his feet upon the -under layer, unless he possessed superior ability, superior will, -superior strength. She arrived at exactly the same phrase Allison had -entertained five minutes before; “the city of strong men!” Again she -turned to the man at her side for a critical inspection, in this new -light. His frame was powerful, and the square, high forehead, with the -bulges of concentration above the brows, showed his mental equipment to -be equally as rugged. His profile was a crisply cut silhouette against -the wintry grey; straight nose, full, firm lips, pointed chin, square -jaw. He was a fair example of all this force. - -Perhaps feeling the steady gaze, Allison turned to her suddenly, and for -a moment the grey eyes and the brown ones looked questioningly into each -other, then there leaped from the man to the woman a something which -held her gaze a full second longer than she would have wished. - -“Air’s great,” he said with a smile. - -“Glorious!” she agreed. “I don’t want to go in.” - -“Don’t,” he promptly advised her. - -“That’s a simple enough solution,” and her laugh, in the snow-laden air, -reminded him, in one of those queer flashes of memory, of a little -string of sleighbells he had owned as a youngster. “However, I promised -Cousin Lucile.” - -“We’ll stop at the house long enough to tell her you’re busy,” suggested -Allison, as eager as a boy. He had been on his way home to dress for a -business banquet, but such affairs came often, and impulsive adventures -like this could be about once in a lifetime with him. He had played the -grubbing game so assiduously that, while he had advanced, as one of his -lieutenants said, from a street car strap to his present mastership of -traction facilities, he had missed a lot of things on the way. He was -energetic to make up for the loss, however. He felt quite ready to pour -a few gallons of gasolene into his runabout and go straight on to -Boston, or any other place Gail might suggest; and there was an -exhilaration in his voice which was contagious. - -“Let’s!” cried Gail, and, with a laugh which he had discarded with his -first business promotion, Allison threw out another notch of speed, and -whirled from the Seventy-second Street entrance up the Avenue to the -proper turning, and halfway down the block, where he made a swift but -smooth stop, bringing the step with marvellous accuracy to within an -inch of the curb. - -“Won’t you come in?” invited Gail. - -“We’d stay too long,” grinned Allison, entering into the conspiracy with -great fervour. - -She flashed at him a smile and ran up the steps. She turned to him again -as she waited for the bell to be answered, and nodded to him with frank -comradery. - -“Time me,” she called, and he jerked out his watch as she slipped in at -the door. - -Two vivacious looking young women, one tall and black-haired and the -other petite and blonde, and both fashionably slender and both pretty, -rushed out into the hall and surrounded her. - -“We thought you’d never come,” rattled Lucile Teasdale, who was the -petite blonde, and the daughter of the sister of the wife of Gail’s -Uncle Jim. - -“Who’s the man?” demanded Mrs. “Arly” Fosland, with breathless interest. - -“Where’s my tea?” answered Gail. - -“We saw you dash up,” supplemented Lucile. “We thought it was a fire.” - -“Why doesn’t he come in?” this from Arly, in whom two years of polite -married life had not destroyed an innocently eager curiosity to inspect -eligibles at close range, for her friends. - -“Who is he?” insisted Lucile, peeping out of the hall window. - -“Edward E. Allison,” primly announced Gail, suppressing a giggle. “I got -him at Uncle Jim’s vestry meeting. He’s waiting to take me riding in the -Park. Where’s my tea?” - -“Edward E. Allison!” gasped “Arly” Fosland. “Why, he’s the richest -bachelor in New York, even if he isn’t a social butterfly,” and she -contemplated Gail in sisterly wonder and admiration. “Good gracious, -child, run!” - -“Come for the tea to-morrow!” urged Lucile. - -They were all three laughing, and the two young married women were -pushing Gail forward. At the door Lucile and Arly separated from her, to -peer out of the two side windows. - -“He doesn’t look so old,” speculated Arly; and Lucile opened the door. - -“Good-bye, dearie,” and Lucile kissed her cousin in plain sight of the -curb, upon which there was nothing for that young lady to do but go. - -For an instant, Edward E. Allison had a glimpse of her, in her garnet -and turquoise, flanked by a sprightly vision in blue and another -sprightly vision in pink, and he thought he heard the suppressed sounds -of tittering; then the door closed, and the lace curtains of the hall -windows bulged outward, and Gail came tripping down the steps. - -“Two minutes and forty-eight seconds,” called Allison, putting away his -stop watch with one hand and helping her with the other. He tucked her -in more quickly than at the church, but with equal care, then he jumped -in beside her, and never had he cut so swift and sure a circle with his -sixty horse-power runabout. - -They raced up and into the Park, and around the winding driveways with -the light-hearted exhilaration of children, and if there was in them at -that moment any trace of mature thought, they were neither one aware of -it. They were glad that they were just living, and moving swiftly in the -open air, glad that it was snowing, glad that the light was beginning to -fade, that there were other vehicles in the Park, that the world was -such a bright and happy place; and they were quite pleased, too, to be -together. - -It was still light, though the electric lamps were beginning to flare up -through the thin snow veil, when they rounded a rocky drive, and came in -view of a little lookout house perched on a hill. - -“Oh!” called Gail, involuntarily putting her hand on his arm. “I want to -go up there!” - -The work of Edward E. Allison was well nigh perfection. He stopped the -runabout exactly at the centre of the pathway, and was out and on Gail’s -side of the car with the agility of a youngster after a robin’s egg. He -helped her to alight, and would have helped her up the hill with great -pleasure, but she was too nimble and too eager for that, and was in the -lookout house several steps ahead of him. - -“It’s glorious,” she said, and her low, melodious voice thrilled him -again with that strange quality he had noticed when she had first spoken -at the vestry meeting. - -Below them lay a grey mist, dotted here and there with haloed lights, -which receded in the distance into tiny yellow blurs, while the nearer -lamps were swathed in swirling snowflakes. Nearby were ghosts of trees -projecting their tops from the misty lake, and out of what seemed a vast -eerie depth came the clang of street cars, and the rumble of the distant -elevated, and the honks of auto horns, and all the rattle and roar of -the great city, muffled and subdued. - -“It’s like being out of the world.” He was astonished to find in himself -the sudden growth of a poetic spirit, and his voice had in it the -modulation which went with the sentiment. - -“This was created,” mused Gail, as if answering an inner question. “Why -should the clumsy minds of men destroy the simplicity of anything so -vast, and good, and beautiful, as our instinctive belief in the -Creator?” - -Finding no answer in his experience to this unfathomable mystery, Edward -E. Allison very wisely kept still and admired the scenery, which -consisted of one girl framed tastefully in a miscellaneous assortment of -snowflakes. When he tried to unravel the girl, he found her a still more -fathomless mystery, and gave up the task in a hurry. After all, she was -right there, and that was enough. - -When she was quite finished with the view, she turned and went down the -hill, and Edward Allison nearly sprained his spinal column in getting -just ahead of her on the steepened narrow path. It was treacherous -walking just there, with the freshly fallen snow on the shale stones. He -was heartily glad that he had taken this precaution, for, near the -bottom of the hill, one of her tiny French heels slid, and she might -have fallen had it not been for the iron-like arm which he threw back to -support her. For just an instant she was thrown fairly in his embrace, -with his arm about her waist, and her weight upon his breast; and, in -that instant, the fire which had been smouldering in him all afternoon -burst into flame. With a mighty repression he resisted the impulse to -crush her to him, and handed her to the equilibrium which she -instinctively sought, though the arm trembled which had been pressed -about her. His heart sang, as he helped her into the machine, and sprang -in beside her. He felt a savage joy in his strength as he started the -car and felt the wheel under his hard grip. He was young, younger than -he had ever been in his boyhood; strong, stronger than he had ever been -in his youth. What worlds he might conquer now with this new blood -racing through his veins. It was as if he had been suddenly thrust into -the fires of eternal life, and endowed with all the vast, irresistible -force of creation! - -Gail, too, was disturbed. While she had laughed to cover the -embarrassment of her mishap, she had been quite collected enough to -thank Allison for his ready aid; but she had felt the thrill of that -tensed arm, and it had awakened in her mind an entirely new vein of -puzzled conjecture. They were both silent, and busy with that new world -which opens up when any two congenial personalities meet, as they raced -out of the Park, and over One Hundred and Tenth Street, and up Riverside -Drive, and out Old Broadway. Occasionally they exchanged bits of -spineless repartee, and laughed at it, but this was only perfunctory, -for they had left the boy and girl back yonder in the park. - -Gravity with a man invariably leads him back to the consideration of his -leading joy in life, business; and the first thing Allison knew he was -indulging in quite a unique weakness, for him; he was bragging! Not -exactly flat-footed; but, with tolerably strong insinuation, he gave her -to understand that the consolidation of the immense traction interests -of New York was about as tremendous an undertaking as she could -comprehend, and that, having attained so dizzy a summit, he felt -entitled to turn himself to lighter things, to enjoy life and gaiety and -frivolity, to rest, as it were, upon his laurels. - -Gail was amused, as she always was when men of strong achievement -dropped into this weakness to interest girls. She did appreciate and -admire his no doubt tremendous accomplishment; it was only his naïvete -which amused her, and to save her she could not resist the wicked little -impulse to nettle him. To his suggestion that he could now lead a merry -life because he was entitled to rest upon his laurels, she had merely -answered “Why?” - -He dropped into a silence so dense that the thump was almost audible, -and she was contrite. She had pricked him deeper than she knew, however. -She had not understood how gigantic the man’s ambitions had been, nor -how vain he was of his really marvellous progress. After all, why should -he pause, when he had such power in him? She did well to speak -slightingly of any achievement made by a man of such proved ability. New -ambitions sprang up in him. The next time he talked of business with her -he would have something startling under way; something to compel her -respect. The muscles of his jaws knotted. It was like being dared to -climb higher in a swaying tree. - -“Oh, it’s dark!” suddenly discovered Gail. “Aunty will be frantic.” - -“That’s so,” regretfully agreed Allison, who, having no Aunties of his -own, was prone to forget them. “We’ll stop up at this roadhouse, and you -can telephone her,” and he turned in at the drive where rose petalled -lights gleamed out from the latticed windows of a low-eaved building. -Dozens of autos, parked amid the snow-sheeted shrubbery, glared at them -with big yellow eyes, and, through the windows, were white cloths and -sparkling glassware, and laughing groups about the tables, and hurrying -waiters. There was music, too, slow, languorous music! - -“Doesn’t it look inviting!” exclaimed Allison, becoming instantly aware -of the pangs of hunger. - -“It’s an enchanting place!” agreed Gail enthusiastically. - -Allison hesitated a moment. - -“Tell your aunt we’re dining here,” he suggested. - -She laughed aloud. - -“Wouldn’t it be fun,” she speculated, and Allison led her in to the -phone. She turned to him with a snap in her eyes at the door of the -booth. “It depends on who answers.” - - - - - CHAPTER III - THE CHANGE IN THE RECTOR’S EYES - - -The grand privilege of Mrs. Jim Sargent’s happy life was to worry all -she liked. She began with the rise of the sun, and worried about the -silver chest; whether it had been locked over night. Usually she slipped -downstairs, in the grey of the morning, to see, and, thus happily -started on the day, she worried about breakfast and luncheon and dinner; -and Jim and her sister and her niece, Lucile; and the servants and the -horses and the flowers; and at nights she lay awake and heard burglars. -Just now, as she sat on the seven chairs and the four benches of the -mahogany panelled library, amid a wealth of serious-minded sculpture and -painting and rare old prints, she was bathed in a new ecstasy of painful -enjoyment. She was worried about Gail! It was six-thirty now, and Gail -had not yet returned from Lucile’s. - -At irregular intervals, say first two minutes and then three and a half, -and then one, she walked into the Louis XIV reception parlour, and made -up her mind to have a new jeweller try his hand at the sun-ray clock, -and looked out of the windows to see if Lucile’s car was arriving. -Between times she pursued her favourite literary diversion; reading the -automobile accidents in the evening papers. She had spent all her later -years in looking for Jim’s name among the list of the maimed! - -Mrs. Helen Davies, dressed for dinner with as much care as if she had -been about to attend one of the unattainable Mrs. Waverly-Gaites’ -annuals, came sweeping down the marble stairs with the calm aplomb of -one whom nothing can disturb, and, lorgnette in hand, turned into the -library without even a glance into the floor-length mirror in the hall. -Her amber beaded gown was set perfectly on her fine shoulders, and her -black hair, fashionably streaked with grey, was properly done, as she -was perfectly aware. - -“I’m so glad you came down, Helen!” breathed Mrs. Sargent, with a sigh -of relief. “I’m so worried!” - -“Naturally, Grace,” returned her sister Helen, who was reputed to be -gifted in repartee. “One would be, under the circumstances. What are -they?” and she tapped her chin delicately with the tip of her lorgnette, -as a warning to an insipient yawn. It was no longer good form to be -bored. - -“Gail!” replied Mrs. Sargent, who was inclined to dumpiness and a -decided contrast to her stately widowed sister. “She hasn’t come home -from Lucile’s!” - -Mrs. Helen Davies sat beneath the statue of Minerva presenting wisdom to -the world, and arranged the folds of her gown to the most graceful -advantage. - -“You shouldn’t expect her on time, coming from Lucile’s,” she observed, -with a smile of proper pride. She was immensely fond of her daughter -Lucile; but she preferred to live with her sister. “I have a brilliant -idea, Grace. I’ll telephone,” and without seeming to exert herself in -the least, she glided from her picturesque high-backed flemish chair, -and sat at the library table, and drew the phone to her, and secured her -daughter’s number. - -“Hello, Lucile,” she called, in the most friendly of tones. “You’d -better send Gail home, before your Aunt Grace develops wrinkles.” - -“Gail isn’t here,” reported Lucile triumphantly. “She dropped in, two -hours ago, and dropped right out, without waiting for her tea. You’d -never guess with whom she’s driving! Edward E. Allison! He’s the richest -bachelor in New York!” - -Mrs. Helen Davies turned to her anxious sister with a sparkle in her -black eyes. - -“It’s all right, Grace,” and then she turned eagerly to the phone. “Did -he come in?” - -“They were in too big a rush,” jabbered Lucile excitedly. “He doesn’t -look old at all. Arly and I watched them drive away. They seemed to be -great chums. Gail got him at Uncle Jim’s vestry. Doesn’t she look -stunning in red!” - -“Where is she?” interrupted Mrs. Sargent, holding her thumb. - -“Out driving,” reported sister Helen. “Have you sent your invitations -for the house-party, Lucile?” and she discussed that important subject -until Mrs. Sargent’s thumb ached. - -“With whom is Gail driving, and where?” asked sister Grace, anxious for -detail. - -Mrs. Helen Davies touched all of her fingertips together in front of her -on the library table, and beamed on Grace. - -“Don’t worry about Gail,” she smilingly advised. “She is driving with -Edward E. Allison. He is the richest bachelor in New York, though not -socially prominent. No one has ever been able to interest him. I predict -for Gail a brilliant future,” and she moved over contentedly to her -favourite contrast with Minerva. - -“Gail would attract any one,” returned Mrs. Sargent complacently, and -then a little crease came in her brow. “I wonder where she met him.” - -“At the vestry meeting, Lucile said.” - -“Oh,” and Mrs. Sargent’s brow cleared instantly. “Jim introduced them. I -wonder where Jim is!” - -“I am glad Gail is not definitely engaged,” mused Mrs. Davies. “I am -pleased with her. Young Mr. Clemmens may seem to be a very brilliant -match, back home, but, with her exceptional advantages, she has every -right to expect to do better.” - -Again the creases came in Mrs. Sargent’s brow. - -“I don’t know,” she worried. “Gail has had four letters in four days -from Mr. Clemmens. Of course, if she genuinely cares for him—” - -“But she doesn’t,” Helen comforted herself, figuring it all out -carefully. “A young man who would write a letter a day, would exert -every possible pressure to secure a promise, before he would let a -beautiful creature like Gail come to New York for the winter; and the -fact that he did not succeed proves, conclusively, that she has not made -up her mind about him.” - -The door opened, and Jim Sargent came in, wiping the snow from his -stubby moustache before he distributed his customary hearty greetings to -the family. - -“Where’s Gail?” he wanted to know. - -“Out driving with Edward E. Allison,” answered both ladies. - -“Still?” inquired Jim Sargent, and then he laughed. “She’s a clever -girl. Smart as a whip! She nearly started a riot in the vestry.” - -“Was Willis Cunningham there?” inquired Mrs. Davies interestedly. - -“Took me in a corner after the meeting and told me that Gail bore a -remarkable resemblance to the Fratelli Madonna, and might he call.” - -“Mr. Cunningham is one of the men I was anxious for her to meet,” and -Mrs. Davies touched her second finger, as if she were checking off a -list. - -“What did Gail do?” wondered Mrs. Sargent. - -Jim, crossing to the door, chuckled, and removed his watch chain from -his vest. - -“Told Boyd that Market Square Church was a good business proposition.” - -The ladies did not share his amusement. - -“To the Reverend Boyd!” breathed Mrs. Sargent, shocked. She considered -the Reverend Smith Boyd the most wonderful young man of his age. - -“How undiplomatic,” worried Mrs. Davies. “I must have a little talk with -her about cleverness. It’s dangerous in a girl.” - -“Not these days,” declared Jim Sargent, who stood ready to defend Gail, -right or wrong, at every angle. “Allison and Manning enjoyed it -immensely.” - -“Oh,” remarked Helen Davies, somewhat mollified. “And Mr. Cunningham?” - -“And what did the Reverend Boyd say?” inquired Mrs. Sargent, much -concerned. - -“I don’t think he liked it very well,” speculated Gail’s Uncle Jim. -“He’s coming over to-night to discuss church matters. I’ll have to dress -in a hurry,” and he looked at the watch which he held, with its chain, -in his hand. - -The telephone bell rang, and Sargent, who could not train himself to -wait for a servant to sift the messages, answered it immediately, with -his characteristic explosive-first-syllabled: - -“Hello!” - -“Oh, it’s you, Uncle Jim,” called a buoyant voice. “Mr. Allison and I -have found the most enchanting roadhouse in the world, and we’re going -to take dinner here. It’s all right, isn’t it?” - -“Certainly,” he replied, equally buoyant. “Enjoy yourself, Chubsy,” and -he hung up the receiver. - -“What is it?” asked Mrs. Davies, in a tone distinctly chill. She had a -premonition that Jim Sargent had done something foolish. He seemed so -pleased. - -“Gail won’t be home,” he announced carelessly, starting for the stairs. -“She’s dining with Allison at some roadhouse.” - -“Unchaperoned!” gasped Mrs. Davies. - -“She’s all right, Helen,” remarked Jim, starting upstairs. “Allison’s a -fine fellow.” - -“But what will he think of Gail!” protested Helen. “That sort of -unconventionality has gone clear out. Jim, you’ll have to get back that -number!” - -“Sorry,” regretted Jim. “Can’t do it. Against the telephone rules,” and -he went on upstairs, positively humming! - -The two ladies looked at each other, and sat down in the valley of the -shadows of gloom. There was nothing to be done! Mrs. Davies, however, -was different from her sister. Grace Sargent was an accomplished -worrier, who could remain numb in the exercise of her art, but Helen -Davies was a woman of action. She presently called her daughter. - -“Have you started your dinner, Lucile?” she demanded. - -“No, Ted just came home,” reported Lucile. “What’s the matter?” - -“Don’t let him take time to dress,” urged her mother. “You must go right -out and chaperon Gail.” - -“Where is she?” Lucile delayed to inquire. - -“At some roadhouse, dining with Mr. Allison!” - -“Well, what do you think of Gail!” exulted Lucile. “Oh, Arly!” and Mrs. -Davies heard the receiver drop to the end of its line. She heard -laughter, and then the voice of Lucile again. “Mother, she’s with Edward -E. Allison, and they’ll do better without a chaperon. Besides, mother -dear, there’s a million roadhouses. We’ll come down after dinner. I want -to see her when she returns.” - -“I don’t suppose she could be found, except by accident,” granted her -mother, and gave up the enterprise. “Times are constantly changing,” she -complained to her sister. “The management of a girl becomes more -difficult every year. So much freedom makes them disregardful of the aid -of their elders in making a selection.” - -It was not until nine o’clock that the ladies expressed their worry -again. At that hour, Ted and Lucile Teasdale and Arly Fosland came in -with the exuberance of a New Year’s Eve celebration. - -“It’s great sleighing to-night,” stated Lucile’s husband, who was a -thin-waisted young man, with a splendid natural gift for dancing. - -“All that’s missing is the bells,” chattered the black-haired Arly, -breaking straight for her favourite big couch in the library. “The only -way to have any speed in an auto is to go sidewise.” - -“We’re to get up a skidding match, so I can bet on our chauffeur,” -laughed Lucile, fluffing her blonde ringlets before the big mirror in -the hall. “We slid a complete circle coming down through the Park, and -never lost a revolution!” - -“I’ve been thinking it must be bad driving,” fretted Mrs. Sargent. “Gail -should be home by now!” - -“Allison’s a safe driver,” comforted Ted, who liked to see everybody -happy. - -Jim Sargent came to the door of the study, in which he was closeted with -the Reverend Smith Boyd. Jim was practically the young rector’s business -guardian. - -“Hello, folks,” he nodded. “Gail home?” - -“Not yet,” responded Mrs. Sargent, in whose brow the creases were -becoming fixed. - -“It’s hardly time,” estimated Jim, and went back in the study. - -“Ted has a new divinity,” boasted the wife of that agreeable young man. - -“Had, you mean,” corrected Ted. “She’s deserted me for a single man.” - -“Is it the Piccadilly widow?” inquired Arly, punching another pillow -under her elbow. - -“Certainly,” corroborated Ted. “You don’t suppose I have a new one every -day.” - -“You’re losing your power of fascination then,” retorted Arly. “Lucile’s -still in the running with two a day.” - -“She should have her kind by the dozen,” responded Ted, complacently -stroking his glossy moustache. - -“The young set takes up some peculiar fads,” mused Mrs. Davies, with a -trace of concern. “I can’t quite accustom myself to the sanction of -flirting.” - -“Neither can I,” agreed Ted. “It takes the fun out of it.” - -“The only joy is in boasting about it at home,” complained Arly Fosland. -“I can’t even get Gerald interested in my affairs, so I’ve dropped -them.” - -“Gerald wouldn’t understand a flirtation of his own,” criticised Ted. “I -never saw a man who made such hard work of belonging to twelve clubs. -Arly, how did you manage to make him see your fatal lure?” - -“Mother did it,” returned Arly, drowsily absorbing the grateful warmth -of the room. - -“I don’t think anything is half so dangerous to a bachelor as a mother,” -stated Lucile, with a friendly smile at Mrs. Davies. - -“I’m going to start a new fad,” announced Arly, sitting up and -considering the matter; “prudery. There’s nothing more effective.” - -“It’s too wicked,” objected Lucile’s mother, and scored another point -for herself. It was a wearing task to keep up a reputation for repartee. - -“I’m terribly vexed,” confided Lucile, stopping behind Ted’s chair, and -idly tickling the back of his neck. “I thought it would be such a -brilliant scheme to give a winter week-end party, but Mrs. Acton is -going to give one at her country place.” - -“Before or after?” demanded Mrs. Davies, with whom this was a point of -the utmost importance. - -“A week after,” answered Lucile, “but her invitations are out. I wish I -hadn’t mailed mine. What can we do to make ours notable?” - -That being a matter worth considering, the entire party, with the -exception of Aunt Grace, who was listening for the doorbell, set their -wits and their tongues to work. Mrs. Helen Davies took a keener interest -in it than any of them. The invitation list was the most important of -all, for it was a long and arduous way to the heaven of the socially -elect, and it took generations to accomplish the journey. The Murdock -girls, Grace and herself, had no great-grandfather. Murdock Senior had -made his money after Murdock Junior was married, but in time to give the -girls a thorough polishing in an exclusive academy. Thus launched, Helen -had married a man with a great-great-grandfather, but Grace had married -Jim Sargent. Jim was a dear, and had plenty of money, and was as good a -railroader as Grace’s father, with whom he had been great chums; but -still he was Jim Sargent. Gail’s mother, who had married Jim’s brother, -had seven ancestors, but a mother’s family name is so often overlooked. -Nevertheless, when Gail came to marry, the maternal ancestry, all other -things being favourable, might even secure her an invitation to Mrs. -Waverly-Gaites’ annual! Reaching this point in her circle of -speculation, Mrs. Helen Davies came back to her starting place, and -looked at the library clock with a shock. Ten; and the girl was not yet -home! - -The Reverend Smith Boyd came out of the study with his most active -vestryman, and joined the circle of waiting ones. He was a pleasant -addition to the party, for, in spite of belonging to the clergy, he was -able to conduct himself, in Rome, in a quite acceptable Roman fashion. -Pleasant as he was, they wished he would go home, because it was not -convenient to worry in his company; and by this time Lucile herself was -beginning to watch the clock with some anxiety. Only Mrs. Sargent felt -no restraint. An automobile honked at the door as if it were stopping, -and she half arose; then the same honk sounded half way down the block, -and she sat down again. - -“I’m so worried about Gail!” she stated, holding her thumb. - -“We all are,” supplemented Mrs. Davies quickly. “She has been dining -with a party of friends, and the streets are so slippery.” - -“I should judge Mr. Allison to be a very capable driver,” said the -Reverend Smith Boyd; and the ladies glared at Jim. “I envy them their -drive on a night like this. I wonder if there will be good coasting.” - -“Fine,” judged Jim Sargent, looking out of the window toward the -adjoining rectory. “That first snow was wet and it froze. Now there’s a -good inch on top of it, and, at this rate, there should be three by -morning. A little thaw, and another freeze, and a little more snow -to-morrow, and I’ll be tempted to make a bob-sled.” - -“I’ll help you,” offered the Reverend Smith Boyd, with a glow of -pleasure in his particularly fine eyes. “I used to have a twelve seated -bob-sled, which never started down the hill with less than fifteen.” - -“I never rode on one,” complained Arly. “I think I’m due for a bob-sled -party.” - -“You’re invited,” Lucile promptly told her. “Uncle Jim, you and Dr. Boyd -will have to hunt up your hammer and saw.” - -“I’ll start right to work,” offered the young rector, with the alacrity -which had made him a favourite. - -“If the snow holds, we’ll go over into the Jersey hills, and slide,” -promised Sargent with enthusiasm. “I’ll give the party.” - -“I seem to anticipate a pleasant evening,” considered Ted Teasdale, -whose athletics were confined entirely to dancing. “We’ll ride down hill -on the sleds, and up hill in the machines.” - -“That’s barred,” immediately protested Jim. “The boys have to pull the -girls up hill. Isn’t that right, Boyd?” - -“It was correct form when I was a boy,” returned the rector, with a -laugh. He held his muscular hands out before him as if he could still -feel the cut of the rope in his palms. He squared his big shoulders, and -breathed deeply, in memory of those health-giving days. There was a -flush in his cheeks, and his eyes, which were sometimes green, glowed -with a decided blue. Arlene Fosland, looking lazily across at him, from -the comfortable nest which she had not quitted all evening, decided that -it was a shame that he had been cramped into the ministry. - -“There’s Gail!” cried Mrs. Sargent, jumping to her feet and running into -the hall, before the butler could come in answer to the bell. She opened -the door, and was immediately kissed, then Gail came back into the -library without stopping to remove her furs. She was followed by -Allison, and she carried something inside her coat. Her cheeks were -rosy, from the crisp air, and the snow sparkled on her brown hair like -tiny diamonds. - -“We’ve been buying a dog!” she breathlessly explained, and, opening her -coat, she produced an animated teddy bear, with two black eyes and one -black pointed nose protruding from a puff ball of pure white. She set it -on the floor, where it waddled uncertainly in three directions, and -finally curled between the Reverend Smith Boyd’s feet. - -“A collie!” and the Reverend Smith Boyd picked up the warm infant for an -admiring inspection. “It’s a beautiful puppy.” - -“Isn’t it a dear!” exclaimed Gail, taking it away from him, and -favouring him with a smile. She whisked the fluffy little ball over to -her Aunt Grace, and left it in that lady’s lap, while she threw off her -furs. - -“Where could you buy a dog at this hour?” inquired Mrs. Davies, glancing -at the clock, which stood now at the accusing hour of a quarter of -eleven. - -“We woke up the kennel man,” laughed Gail, turning, with a sparkling -glance, to Allison, who was being introduced ceremoniously to the ladies -by Uncle Jim. “We had a perfectly glorious evening! We dined at Roseleaf -Inn, entirely surrounded by hectic lights, then we drove five miles into -the country and bought Flakes. We came home so fast that Mr. Allison -almost had to hold me in.” She turned, laughing, to find the eyes of the -Reverend Smith Boyd fixed on her in cold disapproval. They were no -longer blue! - - - - - CHAPTER IV - TOO MANY MEN - - -“A conscience must be a nuisance to a rector,” sympathised Gail Sargent, -as she walked up the hill beside the Reverend Smith Boyd. - -The tall, young rector shifted the thin rope of the sled to his other -hand. - -“Epigrams are usually more clever than true,” he finally responded, with -a twinkle in his eyes. It had been in his mind to sharply defend that -charge, but he reflected that it was unwise to assume the speech worth -serious consideration. Moreover, he had come to this toboggan party for -healthful physical exercise! - -“Then you’re guilty of an epigram,” retorted Gail, who was annoyed with -the Reverend Smith Boyd without quite knowing why. “You can’t believe -all you are compelled, as a minister, to say.” - -“That,” returned the Reverend Smith Boyd coldly, “is a matter of -interpretation.” He commended himself for his patience, as he proceeded -to instruct this mistaken young person. She was a lovable girl, in spite -of the many things he found in her of which to disapprove. “The eye of -the needle through which the camel was supposed not to be able to pass, -was, in reality, a narrow city gate called the Needle’s Eye.” - -Gail looked at him with that little smile at the corners of her red -lips, eyelids down, curved lashes on her cheeks, and beneath the lashes -a sparkle brighter than the moonlight on the snow crystals in the -adjoining field. - -“It seems to me there was something about wealth in that metaphor,” she -observed, her round eyes flashing open as she smiled up at him. “If it -was so difficult even in those days for a rich man to enter the Kingdom -of Heaven, how can a rich church hope to enter the spirit of the -gospel?” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd hastily, and almost roughly, drew her aside, as -a long, low bob-sled, accompanied by appropriate screams, came streaking -down the hill, and passed them. They both turned and followed its -progress down the narrowing white road, to where it curved away in a -silver line far at the bottom of a hill. Hills and valleys, and fences -and trees, and even a distant stream were covered with the fleecy mantle -of winter, while high over head in a sky of blue, hung a round, white -moon, which flooded the country-side with mellow light, and strewed upon -earth’s fresh robe a wealth of countless sparkling gems. - -“This is a wonderful sermon,” mused Gail; then she turned to the rector. -She softened toward him, as she saw that he, too, had partaken of the -awe and majesty of this scene. He stood straight and tall, his -splendidly poised head thrown back, and his gaze resting far off where -the hills cut against the sky in tree-clad scallops. - -“It is an inspiration,” he told her, with a tone in his vibrant voice -which she had not heard before; and for that brief instant these two, -between whom there had seemed some instinctive antagonism, were nearer -in sympathy than either had thought it possible to be. Then the Reverend -Smith Boyd happened to remember something. “The morality or immorality -of riches depends upon its use,” he sonorously stated, as he stepped out -into the road again, dragging his sled behind him, following the noisy, -loitering crowd with the number two bob-sled. “Market Square Church, -which is the one I suppose you meant in your comparison with the rich -man, intends to devote all the means with which a kind Providence has -blessed it, to the glory of God.” - -“And the gratification of the billionaire vestry,” she added, still -annoyed with the Reverend Smith Boyd, though she did not know why. - -He turned to her almost savagely. - -“Have you no sense of reverence?” he demanded. - -“For the church, or the creed, or the ministry? Not a particle!” she -heartily assured him. “The church, as an instrument for good, has -practically ceased to exist. Even charity, the greatest of the three -principles upon which the church was originally founded, has been taken -away from it, because the secular organisations dispense charity better -and more sanely, and while the object is still alive.” - -Again the Reverend Smith Boyd drew her out of the road, almost ungently, -and unnecessarily in advance of need, to permit a thick man to glide -leisurely by, on his stomach on a hand sled. He grinned up at them from -under a stubby moustache, and waved a hand at them with a vigour which -nearly ran him into a ditch; but a sharp scrape of his toe in the snow, -made with a stab the expertness of which had come back to him through -forty years, brought him into the path again, and he slid majestically -onward, with happy forgetfulness of the dignity belonging to the -president of the Towando Valley Railroad and a vestryman of Market -Square Church. - -“That used to be lots of fun,” remembered Gail, looking after her Uncle -Jim in envy. - -“Market Square Church has dispensed millions in charity,” the rector -felt it his duty to inform her, as they started up the hill again. - -“If it’s like our church at home it costs ninety cents to deliver a -dime,” she retorted, bristling anew with bygone aggravations. “So long -as you can deliver baskets of provisions in person, it is all right, but -the minute you let the money out of your sight it filters through too -many paid hands. I found this out just before I resigned from our -charity committee.” - -He looked at her in perplexity. She was so young and so pretty, so -charming in the ermine which framed her pink face, so gentle of speech -and movement, that her visible self and her incisive mind seemed to be -two different creatures. - -“Why are you so bitter against the church?” and his tone was troubled, -not so much about what she had said, but about her. - -“I didn’t know I was,” she confessed, concerned about it herself. “All -at once I seem to look on it as an old shoe which should be cast aside. -It is so elaborate to do so little good in the world. Morality is on the -increase, as any page of history will show.” - -“I believe that to be true,” he hastily assured her, glad to be able to -agree with her upon something. - -“But it is in spite of the church, not because of it,” she immediately -added. “You can’t say that there is a tremendous moral influence in a -congregation which numbers eight hundred, and sends less than fifty to -services. The balance show their devotion to Christianity by a quarterly -check.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd felt unfairly hit. - -“That is the sorrow of the church,” he sadly confessed; “the -lukewarmness of its followers.” - -She felt a trace of compunction for him; but why had he gone into the -ministry? - -“Can you blame them?” she demanded, as much aggrieved as if she had -suffered a personal distress. “Not so long ago, the governing body of -the church held a convention in which the uppermost thought was this -same lukewarmness. It was felt, and acknowledged, that the church was -losing its personal hold on its membership, and that something should be -done about it; yet that same body progressed no further in this problem -than to realise that something should be done about it; and spent hours -and hours wrangling over whether banana wine could be used for the -sacrament in Uganda, where grapes do not grow, and where every bottle of -grape wine carried over the desert represents the life of a man. Of what -value is that to religion? How do you suppose Christ would have decided -that question?” - -The rector flushed as if he had been struck, and he turned to Gail with -that cold look in his green eyes. - -“That is too deep a subject to discuss here, but if you will permit me, -I will take it up with you at the house,” he quietly returned, and there -was a dogged compulsion in his tone. - -“I shall be highly interested in the defence,” accepted Gail, with an -aggravating smile. - -There seemed to be but very little to say after that, and they walked -silently up the hill together towards the yellow camp fire, fuming -inwardly at each other. Near the top of the hill, her ermine scarf came -loose at the throat, and, with her numbed hands, she could not locate -the little clasp with which it had been held. - -“May I help you?” offered the rector, constraining himself to -politeness. - -“Thank you.” She was extremely sweet about it, and he reached up to -perform the courtesy. The rounded column of her neck was white as marble -in the moonlight, and, as he sought the clasps, his fingers, drawn from -his woollen gloves, touched her warm throat, and they tingled. He -started as if he had received an electric shock, and, as he looked into -her eyes, a purple mist seemed to spring between them. He mechanically -fastened the clasps, though his fingers trembled. “Thank you,” again -said Gail, and he did not notice that her voice was unusually low. She -went on over to the group gathered around the fire, but the Reverend -Smith Boyd stood where she had left him, staring stupidly at the ground. -He was in a whirl of bewilderment, amid which there was some unreasoning -resentment, but beneath it all there was an inexplicable sadness. - -“Just in time for the Palisade Special, Gail,” called Lucile Teasdale. - -“I don’t know,” laughed Gail. “I think of going on a private car this -trip,” and she sought among the group for distraction from certain -oppressive thought. Allison, and Lucile and Ted and Arly, were among the -more familiar figures; besides were a cherub-cheeked young lady in a -bear skin, to whom Ted Teasdale was pretending to pay assiduous -attention; and the thoughtful Willis Cunningham; and Houston Van Ploon, -who was a ruddy-faced young fellow with an English moustache, and a -perpetual air of having just come from his tailor’s; and a startling -Adonis, with pink cheeks and a shining black goatee and a curly -moustache, and large, round, black eyes, which were deep, and full of -almost anything one might wish to put into them. This astoundingly -fascinating gentleman had been proudly introduced as Dick Rodley, by -Arlene, early in the evening, with an air which plainly stated that he -was a personal discovery for which she gave herself great credit. At -present, however, he was warming the slender white hands of Lucile -Teasdale. Now he sprang up and came towards Gail. - -“The Palisade Special will not start without Miss Sargent,” he declared, -bending upon her an ardent gaze, and bestowing upon her a smile which -displayed a flash of perfect white teeth. - -Gail breathlessly thought him the most dangerously handsome thing she -had ever seen, but she missed the foreign accent in him. That would have -made him complete. - -“I’m sorry that the Palisade Special will be delayed,” she coolly told -him, but she tempered the deliberateness of that decision with an upward -and sidelong glance, which she was startled to recognise in herself as -distinct coquetry. She concluded, however, on reflection, that this was -only a just meed which no one could withhold from this resplendent -creature. - -“You haven’t the heart to refuse,” protested handsome Dick, coming -nearer, and again smiling down at her. - -“I have a prior claim,” laughed Allison, stepping up and taking her by -the arm. “It’s my turn to guide Miss Sargent on the two-passenger sled.” - -There was something new about Allison to-night. There was the thrill and -the exultation of youth in his voice, and twenty years seemed to have -been dropped from his age. There was an intensity about him, too, and -also a proprietor-like compulsion, which decided Gail on a certain -diversion she had entertained. She was oppressed with men to-night. The -world was full of them, and they had closed too nearly around her. - -Suddenly she broke away with a laugh, and, taking the two-passenger sled -from Smith Boyd, who still stood in preoccupation at the edge of the -group, she picked it up and ran with it, and threw herself face forward -on it, as she had done when she was a kiddy, and shot down the hill, to -the intense disapproval of the Reverend Boyd! Dick Rodley, ever alert in -his chosen profession, grabbed a light steel racer from the edge of the -bank, and, with a magnificent run, slapped himself on the sled, and -darted in pursuit! The rector’s lip curled the barest trace at one -corner, but Edward E. Allison, looking down the hill, grinned, and lit a -cigar. - -“Ted Teasdale, come right over here,” ordered Lucile. - -“Can’t,” carelessly returned Ted. “I’m having a serious flirtation with -Miss Kenneth.” - -“You have to stop, and flirt with me,” Lucile insisted, and going over, -she slipped a hand within his sleeve, and passed the other arm -affectionately around Marion Kenneth. “Gail stole the ornament.” - -“Serves you right,” charged Arly Fosland. “You stole him from me. Come -on, Houston, bring out the Palisade Special.” - -Houston Van Ploon, who was a brother to all ladies, obediently dragged -forward the number two bob-sled, and set its nose at the brow of the -hill, and the merry mob piled on. - -“Coming Allison?” called Cunningham. “There’s room for you both, -Doctor.” - -“I don’t think I’ll ride this trip, thanks,” returned Allison, and, as -the rector also declined with pleasant thanks, Allison gave the voyagers -a hearty push, and walked back to the camp fire. - -“I received the ultimatum of your vestry to-day, Doctor Boyd,” observed -Allison when they were alone. “Still that eventual fifty million.” - -“Well, yes,” returned the rector briskly, and he backed up comfortably -to the blaze. He was a different man now. “We discussed your proposition -thoroughly, and decided that, in ten years, the property is worth fifty -million to you, for the purpose you have in mind. Consequently why take -less.” - -Allison surveyed him shrewdly for a moment. - -“That’s the argument of a bandit,” he remarked. “Why accept all that the -prisoner has when his friends can raise a little more?” - -“I don’t see the use of metaphor,” retorted the rector, who dealt -professionally in it. “Business is business.” - -Allison grunted, and flicked his ashes into the fire. - -“By George, you’re right,” he agreed. “I’ve been trying to handle you -like a church, but now I’m going after you like the business -organisation you are.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd reddened. The charge that Market Square Church -was a remarkably lucrative enterprise was becoming too general for -comfort. - -“The vestry has given you their decision,” he returned, standing stiff -and straight, with his hands clasped behind him. “You may pay for the -Vedder Court tenement property a cash sum which, in ten years, will -accrue to fifty million dollars, or you may let it alone,” and his tone -was as forcefully crisp as Allison’s, though he could not hide the -musical timbre of it. - -“I won’t pay that price, and I won’t let the property alone,” Allison -snapped back. “The city needs it.” - -For a moment the two men looked each other levelly in the eyes. There -seemed to have sprang up some new enmity between them. A thick man with -a stubby moustache came puffing up to the fire, and sat down on his sled -with a thump. - -“Splendid exercise,” he gasped, holding his sides. “I think about a week -of it would either reduce me to a living skeleton, or kill me.” - -“Your vestry’s an ass,” Allison took pleasure in informing him. - -“Same to you and many of them,” puffed Jim Sargent. “What’s the trouble -with you? Trying to take a business advantage of a church.” - -“I’d have a better chance with a Jew,” was Allison’s contemptuous reply. - -“Oh, see here, Allison!” remonstrated Jim Sargent seriously. He even -rose to his feet to make it more emphatic. “You mustn’t treat Market -Square Church with so much indignity.” - -“Why not? Market Square Church puts itself in a position to be -considered in the light of any other grasping organisation.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd, finding in himself the growth of a most -uncloth-like anger, decided to walk away rather than suffer the -aggravation which must ensue in this conversation. Consequently, he -started down the hill, dragging Jim Sargent’s sled behind him for -company. There were no further insults to the church, however. - -“Jim, what are the relations of the Towando Valley to the L. and C.?” -asked Allison, offering Sargent a cigar. - -“Largely paternal,” and the president of the Towando Valley grinned. “We -feed it when it’s good, and spank it when it cries.” - -“Hold control of the stock?” - -“No, only its transportation,” returned Sargent complacently. - -“Stock is a good deal scattered, I suppose.” - -“Small holdings entirely, and none of the holders proud,” replied -Sargent. “It starts no place and comes right back, and the share-holders -won’t pay postage to send in their annual proxies.” - -“Then the stock doesn’t seem to be worth buying,” observed Allison, with -vast apparent indifference. - -“Only to piece out a collection,” chuckled Sargent. “I didn’t know you -were interested in railroads.” - -“I wasn’t a week ago,” and Allison looked out across the starry sky to -the tree-scalloped hills. “With the completion of the consolidation of -New York’s transportation system, and the building of a big central -station, I thought I was through. It seemed a big achievement to gather -all these lines to a common centre, like holding them in my hand; to -converge four millions of people at one point, to handle them without -confusion, and to re-distribute them along the same lines, looked like a -life’s work; but now I’m beginning to become ambitious.” - -“Oh, I see,” grinned Jim Sargent. “You want to do something you can -really call a job. If I remember rightly, you started with an equipment -of four horse cars and two miles of rusted rail. What do you want to -conquer next?” - -Allison glanced down the hill, then back out across the starlit sky. -Some new fervor had possessed him to-night which made him a poet, and -loosened the tongue which, previous to this, could almost calculate its -utterances in percentage. - -“The world,” he said. - - - - - CHAPTER V - EDWARD E. ALLISON TAKES A VACATION - - -Edward E. Allison walked into the offices of the Municipal -Transportation Company at nine o’clock, and set his basket of opened and -carefully annotated letters out of the mathematical centre of his desk; -then he touched a button, and a thin young man, whose brow, at twenty, -wore the traces of preternatural age, walked briskly in. - -“Has Mr. Greggory arrived?” - -The intensely earnest young man glanced at the clock. - -“Yes, sir,” he replied. - -“Take him these letters, and ask him if he will be kind enough to step -here.” - -“Yes, sir,” and the concentrated young man departed with the basket, -feeling that he had quite capably borne his weight of responsibility. - -Allison, looking particularly fresh and buoyant this morning, utilised -his waiting time to the last fraction of a second. He put in a telephone -call, and took from the drawer of his desk a packet of neatly docketed -papers, an index memorandum book, a portfolio of sketches, and three -cigars, the latter of which he put in his cigar case; then, his desk -being empty, except for a clean memorandum pad and pencil, he closed it -and locked it. The telephone girl reported his number on the wire, and, -the number proving to be that of a florist, he ordered some violets sent -to Gail Sargent. - -Greggory walked in, a fat man with no trace of nonsense about him. - -“Out for the day, Ed?” he surmised, gauging that probability by the gift -of the letters. - -“A month or so,” amended Allison, rising, and surveying the three -articles on his desk calculatingly. “I’m going to take a vacation.” - -“It’s about time,” agreed his efficient general manager. “I think it’s -been four years since you stopped to take a breath. Going to play a -little?” - -“That’s the word,” and Allison chuckled like a boy. “Take care of these -things,” and tossing him the packet of papers and the memorandum book, -he took the portfolio of sketches under his arm. - -“I suppose we’ll have your address,” suggested Greggory. - -“No.” - -Greggory pondered frowningly. He began to see a weight piling up on him, -and, though he was capable, he loved his flesh. - -“About that Shell Beach extension?” he inquired. “There’s likely to be -trouble with the village of Waveview. Their local franchises—” - -“Settle it yourself,” directed Allison carelessly, and Greggory stared. -During the long and arduous course of Allison’s climb, he had built his -success on personal attention to detail. “Good-bye,” and Allison walked -out, lighting a cigar on his way to the door. - -He stopped his runabout in front of a stationer’s, and bought the -largest globe they had in stock. - -“Address, please?” asked the clerk, pencil poised over delivery slip. - -“I’ll take it with me,” and Allison helped them secure the clumsy thing -in the seat beside him. Then he streaked up the Avenue to the small and -severely furnished house where four ebony servants protected him from -the world. - -“Out of town except to this list,” he directed his kinky-haired old -butler, and going into the heavy oak library, he closed the door. On the -wall, depending from the roller case, was a huge map of the boroughs of -New York, which had hung there since he had first begun to group -transportation systems together. It was streaked and smudged with the -marks of various coloured pencils, some faded and some fresh, and around -one rectangle, lettered Vedder Court, was a heavy green mark. He picked -up a pencil from the stand, but laid it down again with a smile. There -was no need for that new red line; nor need, either, any longer, for the -map itself; and he snapped it up into its case, on roller-springs stiff -with disuse. In its place he drew down another one, a broad familiar -domain between two oceans, and he smiled as his eye fell upon that tiny -territory near the Atlantic, which, up to now, he had called a world, -because he had mastered it. - -His library phone rang. - -“Mr. Allison?” a woman’s voice. Gail Sargent, Mrs. Sargent, Mrs. Davies, -or Lucile Teasdale. No other ladies were on his list. The voice was not -that of Gail. “Are you busy to-night?” Oh, yes, Lucile Teasdale. - -“Free as air,” he gaily told her. - -“I’m so glad,” rattled Lucile. “Ted’s just telephoned that he has -tickets for ‘The Lady’s Maid.’ Can you join us?” - -“With pleasure.” No hesitation whatever; prompt and agreeable; even -pleased. - -“That’s jolly. I think six makes such a nice crowd. Besides you and -ourselves, there’ll be Arly and Dick Rodley and Gail.” Gail, of course. -He had known that. “We’ll start from Uncle Jim’s at eight o’clock.” - -Allison called old Ephraim. - -“I want to begin dressing at seven-fifteen,” he directed. “At three -o’clock set some sandwiches inside the door. Have some fruit in my -dressing-room.” - -He went back to his map, remembering Lucile with a retrospective smile. -The last time he had seen that vivacious young person she had been -emptying a box of almonds, at the side of the camp fire at the toboggan -party. He jotted down a memorandum to send her some, and drew a high -stool in front of the map. - -Strange this new ambition which had come to him. Why, he had actually -been about to consider his big work finished; and now, all at once, -everything he had done seemed trivial. The eager desire of youth to -achieve had come to him again, and the blood sang in his veins as he -felt of his lusty strength. He was starting to build, with a youth’s -enthusiasm but with a man’s experience, and with the momentum of success -and the power of capital. Something had crystallised him in the past few -days. - -[Illustration: At 7:15 Ephraim found him at the end of the table in the -midst of some neat and intricate tabulations] - -Across the fertile fields and the mighty mountains and the arid deserts -of the United States, there angled four black threads, from coast to -coast, and everywhere else were shorter main lines and shorter branches, -and, last of all, mere fragments of railroads. He began with the long, -angling threads, but he ended with the fragments, and these, in turns, -he gave minute and careful study. At three o’clock he took a sandwich -and ordered his car. He was gone less than an hour, and came back with -an armload of books; government reports, volumes of statistics, and a -file of more intimate information from the office of his broker. He -threw off his coat when he came in this time, and spread, on the big, -lion-clawed table at which Napoleon had once planned a campaign, a -vari-coloured mass of railroad maps. At seven-fifteen old Ephraim found -him at the end of the table in the midst of some neat and intricate -tabulations. - -“Time to dress, sir,” suggested Ephraim. - -Allison pushed to the floor the railroad map upon which he had been -working, and pulled another one towards him. Ephraim waited one minute. - -“I’ve run your tub, sir.” - -Allison leafed rapidly through the pages of an already hard-used book, -to the section concerning the Indianapolis and St. Joe Railroad. Ephraim -looked around calculatingly, and selected an old atlas from the top of -the case near the door. He held it aloft an instant, and let it fall -with a slam. - -“Oh, it’s you,” remarked the absorbed Allison, glancing up. - -“Yes, sir,” returned Ephraim. “You told me to come for you at -seven-fifteen.” - -Allison arose, and rubbed the tips of his fingers over his eyes. - -“Keep this room locked,” he ordered, and stalked obediently upstairs. -For the next thirty minutes he belonged to Ephraim. - -He was as carefree as a boy when he reached Jim Sargent’s house, and his -eyes snapped when he saw Gail come down the stairs, in a pearl tinted -gown, with a triple string of pearls in her waving hair, and a -rose-coloured cloak depending from her gracefully sloping shoulders. - -Her own eyes brightened at the sight of him. He had been much in her -mind to-day; not singly but as one of a group. She was quite conscious -that she liked him, but she was more conscious that she was curious -about him. She was curious about most men, she suddenly found, comparing -them, sorting them, weighing them; and Allison was one of the most -perplexing specimens. A little heavy in his evening clothes, but not -awkward, and not without dignity of bearing. He stepped forward to shake -hands with her, and, for a moment, she found in her an inclination to -cling to the warm thrill of his clasp. She had never before been so -aware of anything like that. Nevertheless, when she had withdrawn her -hand, she felt a sense of relief. - -“Hello, Allison,” called the hearty voice of Jim Sargent. “You’re -looking like a youngster to-night.” - -“I feel like one,” replied Allison, smiling. “I’m on a vacation.” He was -either vain enough or curious enough to glance at himself in the big -mirror as he passed it. He did look younger; astonishingly so; and he -had about him a quality of lightness which made him restless. He had -been noted among his business associates for a certain dry wit, -scathing, satirical, relentless; now he used that quality agreeably, and -when Lucile and Ted, and Arly and Dick Rodley joined them, he was quite -easily a sharer in the gaiety. At the theatre he was the same. He -participated in all the repartee during the intermissions, and the fact -that he found Gail studying him, now and then, only gave him an added -impulse. He was frank with himself about Gail. He wanted her, and he had -made up his mind to have her. He was himself a little surprised at his -own capacity of entertainment, and when he parted from Gail at the -Sargent house, he left her smiling, and with a softer look in her eyes -than he had yet seen there. - -Immediately on his return to his library, Allison threw off his coat and -waistcoat, collar and tie, and sat at the table. - -“What is there in the ice box?” he wanted to know. - -“Well, sir,” enumerated Ephraim carefully; “Mirandy had a chicken -pot-pie for dinner, and then there’s—” - -“That will do; cold,” interrupted Allison. “Bring it here with as few -service things as possible, a bottle of Vichy and some olives.” - -He began to set down some figures, and when Ephraim came, shaking his -head to himself about such things as cold dumplings at night, Allison -stopped for ten minutes, and lunched with apparent relish. At -seven-thirty he called Ephraim and ordered a cold plunge and some -breakfast. He had been up all night, and on the map of the United States -there were pencilled two thin straight black lines; one from New York to -Chicago, and one from Chicago to San Francisco. Crossing them, and -paralleling them, and angling in their general direction, but quite -close to them in the main, were lines of blue and lines of green and -lines of orange; these three. - -Another day and another night he spent with his maps, and his books, and -his figures; then he went to his broker with a list of railroads. - -“Get me what stock you can of these,” he directed. “Pick it up as -quietly as possible.” - -The broker looked them over and elevated his eyebrows, There was not a -road in the list which was important strategically, but he had ceased to -ask questions of Edward Allison. - -Three days later, Allison went into the annual stockholders’ meeting of -the L. and C. Railroad, and registered majority of the stock in that -insignificant line, which ran up the shore opposite Crescent Island, -joined the Towando Valley shortly after its emergence from its hired -entrance into New York, ran for fifty miles over the roadway of the -Towando, with which it had a long-time tracking contract, and wandered -up into the country, where it served as an outlet to certain -conservatively profitable territory. - -The secretary of the L. and C., a man of thick spectacles and a hundred -wrinkles, looked up with fear in his eyes as his cramped old fingers -clutched his pen. - -“I suppose you’ll be making some important changes, Mr. Allison,” he -quavered. - -“Not in the active officers,” returned Allison with a smile, and the -president, who wore flowing side-whiskers, came over to shake hands with -him. “How soon can you call the meeting?” - -“Almost immediately,” replied the president. “I suppose there’ll be a -change in policies.” - -“Not at all,” Allison reassured him, and walked into the board room, -where less than a dozen stockholders, as old and decrepit as the road -itself, had congregated. - -The president, following him, invited him to a seat next his own chair, -and laid before him a little slip of paper. - -“This is the official slate which had been prepared,” he explained, with -a smile which it took some bravery to produce. - -“It’s perfectly satisfactory,” pronounced Allison, glancing at it -courteously, and the elderly stockholders, knotted in little anxious -groups, took a certain amount of reassurance from the change of -expression on the president’s face. - -The president reached for his gavel and called the meeting. The -stockholders, grey and grave, and some with watery eyes, drew up their -chairs to the long table; for they were directors, too. They answered to -their names, and they listened to the minutes, and waded mechanically -through the routine business, always with their gaze straying to the new -force which had come among them. Every man there knew all about Edward -E. Allison. He had combined the traction interests of New York by -methods as logical and unsympathetic as geometry, and where he appeared, -no matter how pacific his avowed intentions, there were certain to be -radical upheavings. - -Election of officers was reached in the routine, and again that solemn -inquiry in the faded eyes. The “official slate” was proposed in -nomination. Edward E. Allison voted with the rest. Every director was -re-elected! - -New business. Again the solemn inquiry. - -“Move to amend Article Three Section One of the constitution, relating -to duration of office,” announced Allison, passing the written motion to -the secretary. “On a call from the majority of stock, the stockholders -of the L. and C. Railroad have a right to demand a special meeting, on -one week’s notice, for the purpose of re-organisation and re-election.” - -They knew it. It had to come. However, three men on the board had long -held the opinion that any change was for the better, and one of these, a -thin, old man with a nose so blue that it looked as if it had been dyed -to match his necktie, immediately seconded. - -Edward E. Allison waited just long enough to vote his majority stock, -and left the meeting in a hurry, for he had an engagement to take tea -with Gail Sargent. - -He allowed himself four hours for sleep that night, and the next -afternoon headed for Denver. On the way he studied maps again, but the -one to which he paid most attention was a new one drawn by himself, on -which the various ranges of the Rocky Mountains were represented by -scrawled, lead-pencilled spirals. Right where his thin line crossed -these spirals at a converging point, was Yando Chasm, a pass created by -nature, which was the proud possession of the Inland Pacific, now the -most prosperous and direct of all the Pacific systems; and the Inland, -with an insolent pride in the natural fortune which had been found for -it by the cleverest of all engineers, guarded its precious right of way -as no jewel was ever protected. Just east of Yando Chasm there crossed a -little “one-horse” railroad, which, starting at the important city of -Silverknob, served some good mining towns below the Inland’s line, and -on the north side curved up and around through the mountains, rambling -wherever there was freight or passengers to be carried, and ending on -the other side of the range at Nugget City, only twenty miles north of -the Inland’s main line, and a hundred miles west, into the fair country -which sloped down to the Pacific. This road, which had its headquarters -in Denver, was called the Silverknob and Nugget City; and into its -meeting walked Allison, with control. - -His course here was different from that in Jersey City. He ousted every -director on the board, and elected men of his own. Immediately after, in -the directors’ meeting, he elected himself president, and, kindly -consenting to talk with the reporters of the Denver newspapers, hurried -back to Chicago, where he drove directly to the head offices of the -Inland Pacific. - -“I’ve just secured control of the Silverknob and Nugget City,” he -informed the general manager of the Inland. - -“So I noticed,” returned Wilcox, who was a young man of fifty and wore -picturesque velvet hats. “The papers here made quite a sensation of your -going into railroading.” - -“They’re welcome,” grinned Allison. “Say Wilcox, if you’ll build a -branch from Pines to Nugget City, we’ll give you our Nugget City freight -where we cross, at Copperville, east of the range.” - -Wilcox headed for his map. - -“What’s the distance?” he inquired. - -“Twenty-two miles; fairly level grade, and one bridge.” - -“Couldn’t think of it,” decided Wilcox, looking at the map. “We’d like -to have your freight, for there’s a lot of traffic between Silverknob -and Nugget City, but it’s not our territory. The smelters are at -Silverknob, and they ship east over the White Range Line. Anyway, why do -you want to take away the haulage from your northern branch?” - -“Figure on discontinuing it. The grades are steep, the local traffic is -light, and the roadbed is in a rotten condition. It needs rebuilding -throughout. I’ll make you another proposition. I’ll build the line from -Pines to Nugget City myself, if you’ll give us track connection at -Copperville and at Pines, and will give us a traffic contract for our -own rolling stock on a reasonable basis.” - -Again Wilcox looked at the map. The Silverknob and Nugget City road -began nowhere and ran nowhere, so far as the larger transportation world -was concerned, and it could never figure as a competitor. The hundred -miles through the precious natural pass known as Yando Chasm, was not so -busy a stretch of road as it was important, and the revenue from the -passage of the Silverknob and Nugget City’s trains would deduct -considerably from the expense of maintaining that much-prized key to the -golden west. - -“I’ll take it up with Priestly and Gorman,” promised Wilcox. - -“How soon can you let me know?” - -“Monday.” - -That afternoon saw Allison headed back for New York, and the next -morning he popped into the offices of the Pacific Slope and Puget Sound, -where he secured a rental privilege to run the trains of the Orange -Valley Road into San Francisco, and down to Los Angeles, over the tracks -of the P. S. and P. S. The Orange Valley was a little, blind pocket of a -road, which made a juncture with the P. S. and P. S. just a short haul -above San Francisco, and it ran up into a rich fruit country, but its -terminus was far, far away from any possible connection with a -northwestern competitor; and that bargain was easy. - -That night, Allison, glowing with an exultation which erased his -fatigue, dressed to call on Gail Sargent. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - THE IMPULSIVE YOUNG MAN FROM HOME - - -Music resounded in the parlours of Jim Sargent’s house; music so sweet -and compelling in its harmony that Aunt Grace slipped to the head of the -stairs, to listen in mingled ecstasy and pride. Up through the hallway -floated a clear, mellow soprano and a rich, deep baritone, blended so -perfectly that they seemed twin tones. Aunt Grace, drawn by a -fascination she could not resist, crept down to where she could see the -source of the melody. Gail, exceptionally pretty to-night in her simple -little dove-coloured gown with its one pink rose, sat at the piano, -while towering above her, with his chest expanded and a look of perfect -peace on his face, stood the Reverend Smith Boyd. - -Enraptured, Aunt Grace stood and listened until the close of the ballad. -Leafing through her music for the next treat, Gail looked up at the -young rector, and made some smiling remark. Her shining brown hair, -waving about her forehead, was caught up in a simple knot at the back, -and the delicate colour of her cheeks was like the fresh glow of dawn. -The Reverend Smith Boyd bent slightly to answer, and he, too, smiled as -he spoke; but as he happened to find himself gazing deep into the brown -eyes of Gail, the smile began to fade, and Aunt Grace Sargent, scared, -ran back up the stairs and into her own room, where she took a book, and -held it in her lap, upside down. The remark which Gail had made was -this: - -“You should have used your voice professionally.” - -The reply of the rector was: - -“I do.” - -“I didn’t mean oratorically,” she laughed, then returned nervously to -her search for the next selection. She had seen that change in his -smile. “It is so rare to find a perfect speaking voice coupled with a -perfect singing voice,” she rattled on. “Here’s that simple little May -Song. Just harmony, that’s all.” - -Once more their voices rose in that perfect blending which is the most -delicate of all exhilarations. In the melody itself there was an -appealing sympathy, and, in that moment, these two were in as perfect -accord as their voices. There is something in the music of the human -tone which exerts a magnetic attraction like no other in the world; -which breaks down the barriers of antagonism, which sweeps away the -walls of self entrenchment, which attracts and draws, which explains and -does away with explanation. This was the first hour they had spent -without a clash, and the Reverend Smith Boyd, his eyes quite blue -to-night, brought another stack of music from the rack. - -The butler, an aggravating image with only one joint in his body, -paraded solemnly through the hall, and back again with the card tray, -while Gail and the rector sang “Juanita” from an old college song book, -which the Reverend Boyd had discovered in high glee. Aunt Grace came -down the stairs and out past the doors of the music salon. There were -voices of animated greeting in the hall, and Aunty returned to the door -just as the rector was spreading open the book at “Sweet and Low.” - -“Pardon me,” beamed Aunty. “There’s a little surprise out here for you.” - -“For me?” and Gail rose, with a smile and a pretty little nod of -apology. - -She moved with swiftly quiet grace into the hall. There was a little -half shrieking exclamation. The rector, setting a chair smilingly for -Mrs. Sargent, happened, quite unwittingly, to come in range of the hall -mirror at the moment of the half shriek, and he saw an impulsive young -man grab Gail Sargent in his arms, and kiss her! - -“Howard!” protested Gail, in the midst of embarrassed laughter; and -presently she came in, rosy-cheeked, with the impulsive young man, whose -hair was inclined to thinness in front. He was rather good-looking, on -second inspection, with a sharp eye and a brisk manner and a healthy -complexion. - -“Mr. Clemmens, Doctor Boyd,” introduced Gail, and there was the ring of -genuine pleasure in her voice. “Mr. Clemmens is one of my very best -friends from back home,” and she viewed this one of her very best -friends with pride as he shook hands with the Reverend Smith Boyd. He -was easy of manner, was Mr. Clemmens, even confident, though he had -scarcely the ease which does not need self-assertion. - -“I am delighted to meet any friend of Miss Sargent,” admitted the -rector, in that flowing, mellow baritone which no one heard for the -first time without surprise. - -“Allow me to say the same,” returned the young man from back home, -making a critical and jealous inspection of the disturbingly commanding -rector. His voice was brisk, staccato, and a trifle high pitched. Gail -had always admired it, not for its musical quality, of course, but for -its clean-cut decisiveness. - -“When did you arrive?” asked Mrs. Sargent, with hospitable interest. - -“Just this minute,” stated Clemmens, exchanging a glance of pleasure -with Gail. “I only stopped at the hotel long enough to throw in my -luggage, and drove straight on here.” He turned to her so expectantly -that the rector rose. - -“You’re not going?” protested Gail, and was startled to find that the -Reverend Smith Boyd’s eyes were no longer blue. They were cold. - -“I’m afraid that I must,” he answered her in the conventional apologetic -tone, which was not at all like his singing voice. It sounded rather -inflexible, and as if it might not blend very well. “I trust that I -shall have the pleasure of meeting you again, Mr. Clemmens,” and he -shook hands with the brisk young man in a most dignified fashion. He -bowed his frigid adieus to the ladies, and marched into the hall for his -hat. - -“Rector?” guessed Mr. Clemmens, when the outer door had closed. - -“Of Market Square Church,” proudly asserted Aunt Grace. “He is a -wonderfully gifted young man. The rectory is right next door.” - -“Oh yes,” responded Mr. Clemmens perfunctorily, and he turned slowly to -Gail. “Fine looking chap, isn’t he?” - -Gail bridled a trifle. She knew that trick of jealous interrogation -quite well. Howard was trying to surprise her into some facial -expression which would betray her attitude toward the Reverend Smith -Boyd. - -“He’s perfectly splendid!” she beamed. “He has the richest baritone I’ve -ever heard.” - -“It blends so perfectly with Gail’s,” supplemented the admiring Aunt -Grace. “We must have him over so you may hear them sing.” - -“I’ll be delighted,” lied Mr. Clemmens, shooting another glance of -displeasure at Gail. - -Somehow, Aunt Grace felt that there was an atmosphere of discomfort in -the room, and she thought she had better go upstairs, to worry about it. - -“You’ll take dinner with us to-morrow evening, I hope,” she cordially -invited. - -“You won’t have to ask me twice,” laughed Mr. Clemmens, rising because -Aunt Grace did. He was always punctilious, and the manner of his -courtesies showed that he was punctilious. - -“Well, girl, tell me all about it,” heartily began the young man from -home, when Aunty had made her apologies and her departure. He imprisoned -her hand in his, and seated her on the couch, and sat beside her, -crossing his legs comfortably. - -“I’ve been having a delightful time,” replied Gail. “Suppose we go over -to the blue room, Howard. It’s much more pleasant, I think.” She wanted -to be away from the piano. It distressed her. - -“All right,” cheerfully acquiesced Howard, and, still retaining her -hand, he went over with her into the blue room, and seated her on the -couch, and sat beside her, and crossed his legs. “We made up our monthly -report just before I came. Our rate of increase is over ten per cent. -better than in any previous month since we began. Three more years, and -we’ll have the biggest insurance business in the state; that is, except -the big outside companies.” - -“Isn’t that splendid!” and her enthusiasm was fine to see. She had been -kept posted on the progress of the Midwest Mutual Insurance Company -since its inception, and naturally she was very much interested. “Then -you’ll branch out into other states.” - -“Not for ten years to come,” he told her, smiling at her woman-like -overestimate. “The Midwest won’t do that until we’ve covered the home -territory so thoroughly that there’ll be no chance of further expansion. -My board of directors brought up that matter at the last meeting, but I -turned it down flat-footed. I’m enterprising enough, but I’m thorough. -The president has thrown the entire responsibility on my shoulders, and -I won’t take any foolish risks.” - -Gail turned to him in clear-eyed speculation. - -“If I were a man, I’m afraid I’d be a business gambler,” she mused. - -“I’ve no doubt you would,” he comfortably laughed. “However, my method -is the safest. Ten years from now, Gail, I’ll have money that I made -myself, and, in twenty, I’ll be shamelessly rich. Sounds good, doesn’t -it?” - -“You have enough money now, if that’s all you want,” she reminded him. - -“No, I’m ambitious,” he insisted. “Not for myself, though. Gail, you -know why I made this trip,” and he bent closer to her. His staccato -voice softened and his eyes were very earnest. “I couldn’t stay away.” -He clasped his other hand over hers, and drew closer. - -“I told you you mustn’t, Howard,” she gently chided him, though she made -no attempt to withdraw her hand. “I’m not ready yet to decide about -things.” - -He was a poor psychologist. - -“All right,” he cheerfully assented, dropping the earnestness from his -voice and from his eyes, but retaining her hand. His clasp was warm and -strong and wholesome. “Mrs. King’s ball was rather a tame affair this -year, though I may have been prejudiced because you weren’t there.” - -He drifted easily into chat of home people and affairs, and she felt -more and more contented every minute. After all, he was of her own -people, linked to them and to her. It was comfortable to be with some -one whom one thoroughly understood. There was no recess of his mind with -which she was not intimately acquainted. She could foretell his mental -processes as easily as she could read the time on her watch. It was -tremendously restful, after her contact with the stronger personalities -which she had found here. She had been wondering in what indefinable -manner Howard had changed, but now she began to see that it was she who -had shifted her viewpoint. The men she had met here, with the exception -of such as Van Ploon and Cunningham and Ted Teasdale, were far more -complex than Howard, a quality which at times might be more interesting -than agreeable. - -A rush of noise filled the hall. Lucile and Ted Teasdale, handsome Dick -Rodley and Arly Fosland and Houston Van Ploon, had come clattering in as -an escort for Mrs. Davies, whose pet fad was to have as many young -people as possible bring her home from any place. - -The young man from back home took his plunge into that vortex with -becoming steadiness. Gail had looked to see him a trifle bewildered, and -would have had small criticism for him if he had, but he greeted them -all on a friendly basis, and, sitting down again beside her, crossed his -legs, while Mrs. Davies calmly lorgnetted him. - -“Where’s the baby?” demanded handsome Dick Rodley, heading for the -stairs. - -“Silly, you mustn’t!” cried Lucile, and started after him. “Flakes -should be asleep at this hour.” - -“I came in for the sole purpose of teaching Flakes the turkey trot,” -declared handsome Dick, and ran away, followed by Lucile. - -“Lucile’s becoming passé,” criticised Ted. “She’s flirting with Rodley -for the second time.” - -“Can you blame her?” defended Arly, stealing a surreptitious glance at -the young man from back home, then the devil of mischief seized her and -she leaned forward. “Do you flirt, Mr. Clemmens?” - -For once the easy assurance of Howard left him, and he blushed. The -stiff, but kindly disposed Van Ploon came to his rescue. - -“Perhaps Mr. Clemmens is not yet married,” he suggested. - -To save him, Clemmens, used, under any circumstances, to the easy sang -froid of the insurance business, could not keep himself from turning to -Gail with accusing horror in his eyes. Was this the sort of company she -kept? He glanced over at Arly Fosland. She was sitting in the deep -corner of her favourite couch, nursing a slender ankle, and even her -shining black hair, to say nothing of her shining black eyes, seemed to -be snapping with wicked delight. It was so unusual to find a young man -one could shock. - -Lucile and handsome Dick came struggling down the stairway with Flakes -between them, and Gail sprang instantly to take the bewildered puppy -from them both. Little blonde Lucile gave up her interest to the prior -right, but Rodley pretended to be obstinate about it. His deep eyes -burned down into Gail’s, as he stood bending above her, and his smile, -to Howard’s concentrated gaze, had in it that dangerous fascination -which few women could resist! Gail was positively smiling up into his -eyes! - -“Tableau!” called Ted. “All ready for the next reel.” - -“Hold it a while,” begged Arly, and even the young man from home was -forced to admit that the picture was handsome enough to be retained. The -Adonislike Dick, with his black hair and black eyes, his curly black -moustache and his black goatee, his pink cheeks and his white teeth; -Gail, gracefully erect, her head thrown back, her brown hair waving and -her eyes dancing; the Adonis bending over her and the fluffy white -Flakes between them; it was painfully beautiful; and Mr. Clemmens -suddenly regretted his square-toed shoes and his business suit. - -“Children, go home,” suddenly commanded Mrs. Davies. “Dick, put the dog -back where you found it.” - -“I suppose we’ll have to go home,” drawled Ted. “Dick, put back that -dog.” - -“Put away the dog, Dick,” ordered the heavier voice of young Van Ploon. -“Come along, Gail, I’ll put him away.” - -At his approach, Dick placed the puppy, with great care, in Gail’s -charge, and took her arm. Van Ploon took her other arm, and together the -trio, laughing, went away to return Flakes to his bed. They clung to her -most affectionately, bending over her on either side; and they called -her Gail! - -The others were ready to go when they returned from the collie nursery, -and the three young men stood for a moment in a row near the door. Gail -looked them over with a puzzled expression. What was there about them -which was so attractive? Was it poise, sureness, polish, breeding, -experience, insolence, grooming—what? Even the stiff Van Ploon seemed -smooth of bearing to-night! - -“Come home, Gail,” begged Clemmens, when the noisy party had laughed its -way out of the door and Aunt Helen Davies had gone upstairs. - -She knew what was in his mind, but compassion overcame her resentment, -because there was suffering in his voice and in his eyes. She smiled on -him forgivingly, and did not withdraw the hand he took again. - -“New York’s an evil place,” he urged. “Who are these friends of yours?” -and he looked at her accusingly. - -“Why, they are tremendously nice people, Howard,” she told him, -forgiving him again because he did not understand. “Lucile is the pretty -cousin about whom I wrote you, Ted is her husband, and the others are -their friends.” - -“I don’t like them,” he rather sternly said. “They are not fit company -for you. They see no sacredness in marriage, with their open flirting.” - -“Why, Howard, that’s only a joke. Ted and Lucile are exceptionally -devoted to each other.” She turned and studied him seriously. Was he -smaller of stature than he had seemed back home, or what was it? - -They still were standing in the hall, and the front door opened. - -“Brought you a prodigal,” hailed Uncle Jim, slipping his latchkey in his -pocket as he held the door open for the prodigal in question. “Hello, -Clemmens. When did you blow in?” and he advanced to shake hands. - -Gail was watching the doorway. Some one outside was vigorously stamping -his feet. The prodigal came in, and proved to be Allison, buoyant of -step, sparkling of eye, firm of jaw, and ruddy from the night wind. -Smiling with the sureness of welcome, he came eagerly up to Gail, and -took her hand, retaining it until she felt compelled to withdraw it, -recognising again that thrill. The barest trace of a flush came into her -cheeks, and paled again. - -“Allison, meet one of Chubsy’s friends from home,” called Uncle Jim. -“Mr. Allison, Mr. Clemmens.” - -As the two shook hands, Gail turned again to the young man from back -home. Yes, he had grown smaller. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - THEY HAD ALREADY SPOILED HER! - - -Gail faltered when, after bidding good-night to her uncle and to -Allison, she turned and met the look in Howard Clemmens’ eyes. She knew -that the inevitable moment had arrived. He walked straight up to her, -and there was a new dignity in him, a new strength, a new resolve. For a -moment, as he advanced, she thought that he was about to put his arms -around her, but he did not. Instead, he took her hand, in his old -characteristic way, and led her into the library, and seated her on the -couch, and sat beside her. - -“Gail, come home with me,” he said, authoritative but kind. He had been -her recognised suitor from childhood. He had shut out all the other -boys. - -She withdrew her hand, but without deliberate intent. She had felt the -instinctive and imperative need of touching her two hands together in -her lap. - -“You’re asking something impossible, Howard,” she returned, quietly. Her -voice was low, and her beautiful brown eyes, half veiled by their long -lashes, were watching the play of light in a ruby on one of her fingers. -She was deep in abstracted thought, struggling vaguely with problems -which he could not know, and of which she herself was as yet but dimly -conscious. - -“Come home, and marry me.” Perfectly patient, perfectly confident, -perfectly gentle. He reached for her hand again, and took them both, -still clasped, in his own. “Gail, we’ve waited quite long enough. It’s -not doing either one of us any good for you to be here. The best thing -is for us to be married right now.” - -For the first time she turned her eyes full upon him. - -“You are taking a great deal for granted, Howard,” and she wore a calm -decision which he had not before seen in her. “There has never been any -agreement between us.” - -“There has been an understanding,” he retorted, releasing her -unresponsive hands and looking her squarely in the eyes, with a slight -frown on his brow. - -“Never,” she incisively reminded him, and her piquant chin pointed -upwards. “I’ve always told you that I could make no promises.” - -That came as a shock and a surprise. It could not be possible that she -did not care for him! - -“Why, Gail dear, I love you!” he suddenly told her, with more fervour -than she had ever heard in his tone. He slipped from the edge of the -couch to his knee on the floor, where he could look up into her downcast -eyes. He put his arm around her, and drew her closer. He clasped her -hands in his own strong palm. “Listen, Gail dear; we grew up together.” -He was tender now, tender and pleading, and his voice had in it ranges -of modulation which it had never developed before this night. “You were -my very first sweetheart; and the only one. Even as a boy in school, -when you were only a little kiddie, I made up my mind to marry you, and -I’ve never given up that dream. All my life I’ve loved you, stronger and -deeper as the years went on, until now the love that is in me sways -every thought, every action, every emotion. I love you, Gail dear! All -my heart and all my soul is in it.” - -She had not drawn away from his embrace, she had not removed her hands -from his clasp; instead, she had yielded somewhat towards this old -friend. - -“I can’t do without you any longer, Gail!” he impetuously went on, -detecting that yielding in her. “You must marry me! Tell me that you -will!” - -She disengaged herself from him very gently. - -“I can’t, Howard.” Her voice was so low that he could scarcely catch the -words, and her face was filled with sorrow. - -He held tense and rigid where she had left him. - -“You can’t,” he repeated, numbly. - -“It is impossible,” and her face cleared of all its perplexity. She was -grave, and serious, and saddened; but still sure. “For the first time I -know my own mind clearly, and I know that I do not now, and never can, -care for you in the way you wish.” - -He rose abruptly and stood before her. His brows were knotted, and there -was a hard look on his face. - -“I came too late!” he bitterly charged. “They’ve already spoiled you!” - -Gail sprang from the couch, and a round red spot flashed into each -cheek. She had never looked so beautiful as when she stood before him, -her tiny fists clenched and her eyes blazing. She almost replied to him, -then she rang the bell for the butler, and hurried upstairs. Wild as was -her tumult, she stood with her hand on the knob of her dressing-room -until she heard the front door open and close; then she ran in and threw -herself downward on the chintz-covered divan, and cried! - -She sat up presently, and remembered that the dove-coloured gown was her -pet. With a quite characteristic ability of self-segregation, she put -out of her mind, except for the dull ache of it, the tangled vortex of -distress until she had changed her garments and let down her waving -hair, and, disdaining the help of her maid, performed all the little -nightly duties, to the putting away of her clothing. Then, in a -perfectly neat and orderly boudoir, she sat down to take herself -seriously in hand. - -First of all, there was Howard. She must cleanse her conscience of him -for all time to come. In just how far had she encouraged him; in how far -was he justified in assuming there to be an “understanding” between -them? It was true that they had grown up together. It was true that, -from the first moment she had begun to be entertained by young men, she -had permitted him to be her most frequent escort. She had liked him -better than all the others; had trusted him, relied on him, commanded -him. Perhaps she had been selfish in that; but no, she had given at -least as much pleasure as she had received in that companionship. More; -for as her beauty had ripened with her years, Howard had been more and -more exacting in his jealousy, in his claims upon her for the rights and -the rewards of past service. Had she been guilty in submitting to this -mild form of dictatorship, and, by permitting it, had she vested in him -the right to expect it? Possibly. She set that weakness to one side, as -a mark against her. - -Then had come the age of ardour, when a more serious note crept into -their relation. It was the natural end and aim of all girls to become -married, and, as she blossomed into the full flower of her young -womanhood, this end and aim had been constantly borne in on her by all -her friends and relatives, by her parents, her girl chums, and by -Howard. They had convinced her that this was the case, and, in -consequence, the logical candidate was the young man who had expended -all his time and energy in trying to please her. How much of a debt was -that? Well, it was an obligation, she gravely considered, with her -dimpled chin in her hand. An obligation which should be repaid—with -grateful friendship. - -She was compelled to admit, being an honest and a just young person, -that at various times she had herself considered Howard Clemmens the -logical candidate. She must be married some time, and Howard was the -most congenial young man of all her acquaintance. He was of an excellent -family, had proved his right to exist by the fact that he had gone into -business when he had plenty of money to live in idleness, was -well-mannered, cheerful, good-natured, self-sacrificing, and an adorer -whose admiration was consistent and unfaltering. Even—she confessed this -to herself with self-resentment for having confessed it—even at the time -she had left for New York, she had been fairly well settled in her mind -that she would come back, and invite all her hosts of friends to see her -marry Howard, and they would build a new house just the way she wanted -it, and entertain, and some day she would be a prominent member of the -Browning Circle. - -However, she had never, by any single syllable, hinted to Howard, or any -one else, that this might be the case, and her only fault could lie in -thinking it. Now, just how far could Howard divine this mental attitude, -and just how far might that mental attitude influence her actions and -general bearing toward Howard, so that he might be justified in feeling -that there was an actual understanding between them? - -She did not know. She was only sure that she was perfectly miserable. -She had yielded to a fit of impetuous anger, and had sent away her -lifelong friend without a word of good-bye, and he had been a dear, good -fellow who had been ready to bark, or fetch and carry, or lie down and -roll over, at the word of command; and they had been together so much, -and he had always been so kind and considerate and generous, and he was -from back home, and he did really and truly love her very much, and she -was homesick; and she cried again. - -She sat upright with a jerk, and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, -which was composed of one square inch of linen entirely surrounded by -embroidered holes. She had been perfectly right in sending Howard away -without a good-bye. He had insulted her friends and her, most grossly; -he had been nasty and unreasonable; he had been presumptuous and -insolent; his voice was harsh and he had crossed his legs in a fashion -which showed his square-toed shoe at an ugly angle. She had never seen -anybody cross his legs in just that way. “They had spoiled her already!” -Indeed! Why had she not waited long enough to assert herself? Why had -she not told him what a conceited creature he was? Why had she not said -all the hot, bitter, stinging things which had popped into her mind at -the time? There were half a dozen better and more scornful ways in which -she could have sent him away than by merely calling the butler and -running upstairs. She might even have stretched out her hand imperiously -and said “Go!” upon which thought she laughed at herself, and dabbed her -eyes with that absurdity which she called a handkerchief. - -There was knock at the door and, on invitation, the tall and stately -Mrs. Helen Davies came in, frilled and ruffled for the night. She found -the dainty, little guest boudoir in green tinted dimness. Gail had -turned down all the lights in the room except the green lamps under the -canopy, and she sat on the divan, with her brown hair rippling about her -shoulders, her knees clasped in her arms, and her dainty little boudoir -slippers peeping from her flowing pink negligee, while the dim green -light, suited to her present sombre reflections, only enhanced the clear -pink of her complexion. Mrs. Davies sat down in front of her. - -“Mr. Clemmens proposed to you to-night,” she charged, gleaning that fact -from experienced observation. - -Gail nodded her head. - -“I hope you did not accept him.” - -The brown ripples shook sidewise. - -“I was quite certain that you would not,” and the older woman’s tone was -one of distinct relief. “In fact, I did not see how you could. The young -man is in no degree a match for you.” - -There was a contemptuous disapproval in her tone which brought Gail’s -head up. - -“You don’t know Howard!” she flared. “He is one of the nicest young men -at home. He is perfectly good and kind and dear, and I was hateful to -him!” and Gail’s chin quivered. - -Aunt Helen rendered first aid to the injured in the tenderest of -manners. She moved over to the other side of Gail where she could -surround her, and laid the brown head on her shoulder. - -“I know just how you feel,” she soothingly said. “You’ve had to refuse -to marry a good friend, and you are reproaching yourself because you -were compelled to hurt him. Of course you are unfair to yourself, and -you feel perfectly miserable, and you will for a while; but the main -point is that you refused him.” - -Gail, whose quick intelligence no intonation escaped, lay comfortably on -Aunt Helen’s shoulder, and a clear little laugh rippled up. She could -not see the smile of satisfaction and relief with which Aunt Helen -Davies received that laugh. - -“My dear, I am quite well pleased with you,” went on the older woman. -“If you handle all your affairs so sensibly, you have a brilliant future -before you.” - -Gail’s eyelids closed; the long, brown lashes curved down on her cheeks, -revealing just a sparkle of brightness, while the mischievous little -smile twitched at the corners of her lips. - -“If you were an ordinary girl, I would urge you, to-night, to make a -selection among the exceptionally excellent matrimonial material of -which you have a choice, but, with your extraordinary talents and -beauty, my advice is just to the contrary. You should delay until you -have had a wider opportunity for judgment. You have not as yet shown any -marked preference, I hope.” - -Gail’s quite unreasoning impulse was to giggle, but she clothed her -voice demurely. - -“No, Aunt Helen.” - -“You are remarkably wise,” complimented Aunt Helen, a bit of -appreciation which quite checked Gail’s impulse to giggle. “In the -meantime, it is just as well to study your opportunities. Of course -there’s Dick Rodley, whom no one considers seriously, and Willis -Cunningham, whose one and only drawback is such questionable health that -he might persistently interfere with your social activities. Houston Van -Ploon, I am frank to say, is the most eligible of all, and to have -attracted his attention is a distinct triumph. Mr. Allison, while rather -advanced in years—” - -“Please!” cried Gail. “You’d think I was a horse.” - -“I know just how you feel,” stated Aunt Helen, entirely unruffled; “but -you have your future to consider, and I wish to invite your confidence,” -and in her voice there was the quaver of much concern. - -“Thank you, Aunt Helen,” said Gail, realising the sincerity of the older -woman’s intentions, and, putting her arms around Mrs. Davies’ neck, she -kissed her. “It is dear of you to take so much interest.” - -“I think it’s pride,” confessed Mrs. Davies, naïvely. “I won’t keep you -up a minute longer, Gail. Go to bed, and get all the sleep you can. Only -sleep will keep those roses in your cheeks. Good-night,” and with a -parting caress, she went to her own room, with a sense of a duty well -performed. - -Gail smiled retrospectively, and tried the blue light under the canopy -lamp, but turned it out immediately. The green gave a much better effect -of moonlight on the floor. - -She called herself back out of the mists of her previous distress. Who -was this Gail, and what was she? There had come a new need in her, a new -awakening. Something seemed to have changed in her, to have -crystallised. Whatever this crystallisation was, it had made her know -that she could not marry Howard Clemmens. It had made her know, too, -that marriage was not to be looked upon as a mere inevitable social -episode. Her thoughts flew back to Aunt Helen. Her eyelashes brushed her -cheeks, and the little smile of sarcasm twitched the corners of her -lips. - -Aunt Helen’s list of eligibles. Gail reviewed them now deliberately; not -with the thought of the social advantages they might offer her, but as -men. She reviewed others whom she had met. For the first time in her -life, she was frankly and self-consciously interested in men; curious -about them. She had reached her third stage of development; the fairy -prince age, the “I suppose I shall have to be married one day” age, and -now the age of conscious awakening. She wondered, in some perplexity, as -to what had brought about her nascence; rather, and she knitted her -pretty brows, who had brought it about. - -The library clock chimed the hour, and startled her out of her reverie. -She turned on the lights, and sat in front of her mirror to give her -hair one of those extra brushings for which it was so grateful, and -which it repaid with so much beauty. She paused deliberately to study -herself in the glass. Why, this was a new Gail, a more potent Gail. What -was it Allison had said about her potentialities? Allison. Strong, -forceful, aggressive Allison. He was potence itself. A thrill of his -handclasp clung with her yet, and a slight flush crept into her cheeks. - -Aunt Grace had worried about Jim’s little cold, and the distant mouse -she thought she heard, and the silver chest, and Lucile’s dangerous -looking new horse, until all these topics had failed, when she detected -the unmistakable click of a switch-button near by. It must be in Gail’s -suite. Hadn’t the child retired yet? She lay quite still pondering that -mighty question for ten minutes, and then, unable to rest any longer, -she slipped out of bed and across the hall. There was no light coming -from under the doors of either the boudoir or the bedroom, so Aunt Grace -peeped into the latter apartment, then she tiptoed softly away. Gail, in -her cascade of pink flufferies, was at the north window, kneeling, with -her earnest face upturned to one bright pale star. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - STILL PIECING OUT THE WORLD - - -The map of the United States in Edward E. Allison’s library began, now, -to develop little streaks of red. They were not particularly long -streaks, but they were boldly marked, and they hugged, with -extraordinary closeness, the pencil mark which Allison had drawn from -New York to Chicago and from Chicago to San Francisco. There were long -gaps between them, but these did not seem to worry him very much. It was -the little stretches, sometimes scarcely over an inch, which he drew -with such evident pleasure from day to day, and now, occasionally, as he -passed in and out, he stopped by the big globe and gave it a -contemplative whirl. On the day he joined his far western group of -little marks by bridging three small gaps, he received a caller in the -person of a short, well-dressed, old man, who walked with a cane and -looked half asleep, by reason of the many puffs which had piled up under -his eyes and nearly closed them. - -“I’m ready to wind up, Tim,” remarked Allison, offering his caller a -cigar, and lighting one himself. “When can we have that Vedder Court -property condemned?” - -“Whenever you give the word,” reported Tim Corman, who spoke with an -asthmatic voice, and with the quiet dignity of a man who had borne grave -business responsibilities, and had borne them well. - -Allison nodded his head in satisfaction. - -“You’re sure there can’t be any hitch in it.” - -“Not if I say it’s all right,” and the words were Tim’s only reproof. -His tone was perfectly level, and there was no glint in his eyes. -Offended dignity had nothing to do with business. “Give me one week’s -notice, and the Vedder Court property will be condemned for the city -terminal of the Municipal Transportation Company. Appraisement, -thirty-one million.” - -“I only wanted to be reassured,” apologised Allison. “I took your word -that you could swing it when I made my own gamble, but now I have to -drag other people into it.” - -“That’s right,” agreed Tim. “I never get offended over straight -business.” In other times Tim Corman would have said “get sore,” but, as -he neared the end of his years of useful activity, he was making quite a -specialty of refinement, and stocking a picture gallery, and becoming a -connoisseur collector of rare old jewels. He dressed three times a day. - -“How about the Crescent Island subway?” - -“Ripe any time,” and Tim Corman flecked the ashes from his cigar with a -heavily gemmed hand. “The boosters have been working on it right along, -but never too strong.” - -“There’s no need for any particular manipulation in that,” decided -Allison, who knew the traction situation to the last nickel. “The city -needs that outlet, and it needs the new territory which will be opened -up. I think we’d better push the subway right on across to the mainland. -The extension would have to be made in ten years anyhow.” - -“It’s better right now,” immediately assented Corman. In ten years he -might be dead. - -“I think, too, that we’d better provide for a heavy future expansion,” -went on Allison, glancing expectantly into Tim’s old eyes. “We’d -probably better provide for a double-deck, eight track tube.” - -Tim Corman drew a wheezy breath, and then he grinned the senile shadow -of his old-time grin; but it still had the same spirit. - -“You got a hen on,” he deduced. In “society,” Tim could manage very -nicely to use fashionable language, but, in business, he found it -impossible after the third or fourth minute of conversation. He had -taken in every detail of the room on his entrance, and his glance had -strayed more than once to the red streaks on the big map. Now he -approached it, and studied it with absorbed interest. “You’re a smart -boy, Ed,” he concluded. “Across Crescent Island is the only leak where -you could snake in a railroad. You found the only crack that the big -systems haven’t tied up.” - -“All you can get me to admit, just now, is that the city needs an eight -track tube across Crescent Island, under lease to the Municipal -Transportation Company,” stated Allison, smiling with gratification. A -compliment of this sort from shrewd old Tim Corman, who was reputed to -be the foxiest man in the world, was a tribute highly flattering. - -“That’s right,” approved Tim. “All I know is a guess, and I don’t tell -guesses. This is a big job, though, Eddie. A subway to Crescent Island, -under proper restrictions, is just an ordinary year’s work for the boys, -but this tube pokes its nose into Oakland Bay.” - -“I’m quite aware of the size of the job,” chuckled Allison. “However, -Tim, there’ll be money enough behind this proposition to fill that tube -with greenbacks.” - -Between the narrow-slitted and puffy eyelids of Tim Corman there gleamed -a trace of the old-time genii. - -“Then it’s built.” He rose and leaned on his cane, twinkling down on the -man who, years before, he had picked as a “comer.” “I’ve heard people -say that money’s wicked, but they never had any. When I die, and go down -to the big ferry, if the Old Boy comes along and offers me enough money, -I’ll go to Hell.” - -Still laughing, Allison telephoned to the offices of the Midcontinent -Railroad, and dashed out to his runabout just in time to see Tim Corman -driving around the corner in his liveried landau. He found in President -Urbank, of the Midcontinent, a spare man who had worn three vertical -creases in his brow over one thwarted ambition. His rich but sprawling -railroad system ran fairly straight after it was well started for -Chicago, and fairly straight from that way-point until it became drunken -with the monotony of the western foot-hills, where it gangled and angled -its way to the far south and around up the Pacific coast, arriving there -dusty and rattling, after a thousand mile detour from its course—but -that road had no direct entrance into New York city. It approached from -the north, and was compelled to circle completely around, over hired -tracks, to gain a ferryboat entrance. Passengers inured to coming in -over the Midcontinent, which was a well-equipped road otherwise, counted -but half their journey done when they came in sight of New York, no -matter from what distance they had come. - -“Out marketing for railroads to-day, Gil?” suggested Allison. - -“I don’t know,” smiled Urbank. “I might look at a few.” - -“Here they are,” and Allison tossed him a memorandum slip. - -Urbank glanced at the slip, then he looked up at Allison in perplexity. -He had a funny forward angle to his neck when he was interested, and the -creases in his brow were deepened until they looked like cuts. - -“I thought you were joking, and I’m still charitable enough to think so. -What’s all this junk?” - -“Little remnants and job lots of railroads I’ve been picking up,” and -Allison drew forward his chair. “Some I bought outright, and in some I -hold control.” - -“If you’re serious about interesting the Midcontinent in any of this -property, we don’t need to waste much time.” Urbank leaned back and held -his knee. “There are only two of these roads approach the Midcontinent -system at any point, and they are useless property so far as we are -concerned; the L. and C., in the east, and the Silverknob and Nugget -City, in the west, which touches our White Range branch at its southern -terminus. We couldn’t do anything with those.” - -“You landed on the best ones right away,” smiled Allison. “However, I -don’t propose to sell these to the Midcontinent. I propose to absorb the -Midcontinent with them.” - -Urbank suddenly remembered Allison’s traction history, and leaned -forward to look at the job lots and remnants again. - -“This list isn’t complete,” he judged, and turned to Allison with a -serious question in his eye. - -“Almost,” and Allison hitched a little closer to the desk. “There -remains an aggregate of three hundred and twenty miles of road to be -built in four short stretches. In addition to this, I have a twenty year -contract over a hundred mile stretch of the Inland Pacific, a track -right entry into San Francisco, and this,” and he displayed to Urbank a -preliminary copy of an ordinance, authorising the immediate building of -an eight track tube through Crescent Island to the mainland. “Possibly -you can understand this whole project better if I show you a map,” and -he spread out his little pocket sketch. - -If it had been possible to reverse the processes of time and worry and -wearing concentration, President Urbank, of the Midcontinent, would have -raised from his inspection of that map with a brow as smooth as a -baby’s. Instead, his lips went dry, as he craned forward his neck at -that funny angle, and projected his chin with the foolish motion of a -goose. - -“A direct entrance right slam into the centre of New York!” he -exclaimed, cracking all his knuckles violently one by one. “Vedder -Court! Where’s that?” - -“That’s the best part of the joke,” exulted Allison, with no thought -that Vedder Court was, at this present moment, church property. “It’s -just where you said; right slam in the centre of New York; and the -building into which the Midcontinent will run its trains will be also -the terminal building of every municipal transportation line in -Manhattan! From my station platforms, passengers from Chicago or the Far -West will step directly into subway, L., or trolley. When they come in -over the line which is now the Midcontinent, they will be landed, not -across the river, or in some side street, but right at their own doors, -scattering from the Midcontinent terminal over a hundred traction -lines!” His voice, which had begun in the mild banter of a man passing -an idle joke, had risen to a ring so triumphant that he was almost -shouting. - -“But—but—wait a minute!” Urbank protested. He was stuttering. “Where -does the Midcontinent get to the Crescent Island tube?” - -“Right here,” and Allison pointed to his map. “You come out of the tube -to the L. and C., which has a long-time tracking privilege over fifty -miles of the Towando Valley, and terminates at Windfield. At Forgeson, -however, just ten miles after the L. and L. leaves the Towando, that -road—” - -“Is crossed by our tracks!” Urbank eagerly interpreted. “The -Midcontinent, after its direct exit, saves a seventy mile detour! Then -it’s a straight shoot for Chicago! Straight on again out west—Why, -Allison, your route is almost as straight as an arrow! It will have a -three hundred mile shorter haul than even the Inland Pacific! You’ll put -that road out of the business! You’ll have the king of transcontinental -lines, and none can ever be built that will save one kink!” His neck -protruded still further from his collar as he bent over the map. “Here -you split off from the Midcontinent’s main line and utilise the White -Range branch; from Silverknob—My God!” and his mouth dropped open. -“Why—why—why, you cross the big range _over the Inland Pacific’s own -tracks!_” and his voice cracked. - -Edward E. Allison, his vanity gratified to its very core, sat back -comfortably, smiling and smoking, until Urbank awoke. - -“I suppose we can come to some arrangement,” he mildly suggested. - -Urbank looked at him still in a daze for a moment, and a trace of the -creases came back into his brow, then they faded away. - -“You figured all this out before you came to me,” he remarked. “On what -terms do we get in?” - - - - - CHAPTER IX - THE MINE FOR THE GOLDEN ALTAR - - -Vedder Court was a very drunkard among tenement groups. Its decrepit old -wooden buildings, as if weak-kneed from dissipation and senile decay, -leaned against each other crookedly for support, and leered down, at the -sodden swarms beneath, out of broken-paned windows which gave somehow a -ludicrous effect of bleared eyes. A heartless civic impulse had once -burdened them with fire escapes, and these, though they were -comparatively new, had already partaken of the general decay, and -looked, with their motley cluttering of old bedding, and nondescript -garments hung out to dry, and various utensils of the kitchen and -laundry, and various unclassified junk, as if they were a sort of foul, -fungoid growth which had taken root from the unspeakable uncleanliness -within. There had once been a narrow strip of curbed soil in the centre -of the street, where three long-since departed trees had given the -quarter its name of “Court,” but this space was now as bare and dry as -the asphalt surrounding it, and, as it was too small even for the -purpose of children at play, a wooden bench, upon which no one ever sat, -as indeed why should they, had long ago been placed on it, to become -loose-jointed and weather-splintered and rotted, like all the rest of -the neighbourhood. - -As for its tenants; they were exactly the sort of birds one might expect -to find in such foul nests. They were of many nations, but of just two -main varieties; stupid and squalid, or thin and furtive; but they were -all dirty, and they bore, in their complexions, the poison of crowded -breathing spaces, and bad sewerage, and unwholesome or insufficient -food. - -Into this mire, on a day when melting snow had fallen and made all -underfoot a black, shining, oily, sticky canal, there drove an utterly -out-of-place little electric coupé, set low, and its glistening plate -glass windows hung with absurd little lace curtains held back by pink -ribbon bows. At the wheel was the fresh-cheeked Gail Sargent, in a -driving suit and hat and veil of brown, and with her was the -twinkling-eyed Rufus Manning, whose white beard rippled down to his -second waistcoat button. They drove slowly the length of the court and -back again, the girl studying every detail with acute interest. They -stopped in front of Temple Mission, which, with its ugly red and blue -lettering nearly erased by years of monthly scrubbings, occupied an old -store room once used as a saloon. - -“So this is the chrysalis from which the butterfly cathedral is to -emerge,” commented Gail, as Manning held the door open for her, and -before she rose she peered again around the uninviting “court,” which -not even the bright winter sunshine could relieve of its dinginess; -rather, the sun made it only the more dismal by presenting the ugliness -more in detail. - -“This is the mine which produces the gold which is to gild the altar,” -assented Manning, studying the sidewalk. “I don’t think you’d better -come in here. You’ll spoil your shoes.” - -“I want to see it all this time because I’m never coming back,” insisted -Gail, and placed one daintily shod foot on the step. - -“Then I’ll have to shame Sir Walter Raleigh,” laughed the -silvery-bearded Manning, and, to her gasping surprise, he caught her -around the waist and lifted her across to the door, whereat several -soiled urchins laughed, and one vinegary-faced old woman grinned, in -horrible appreciation, and dropped Manning a familiarly respectful -courtesy. - -There was no one in the mission except a broad-shouldered man with a -roughly hewn face, who ducked his head at Manning and touched his -forefinger to the side of his head. He was placing huge soup kettles in -their holes in the counter at the rear of the room, and Manning called -attention to this. - -“A practical mission,” he explained. “We start in by saving the bodies.” - -“Do you get any further?” inquired Gail, glancing from the empty benches -and the atrociously coloured “religious” pictures on the walls to the -windows, past which eddied a mass of humanity all but submerged in -hopelessness. - -“Sometimes,” replied Manning gravely. “I have seen a soul or two even -here. It is because of these two or three possibilities that the mission -is kept up. It might interest you to know that Market Square Church -spends fifteen thousand dollars a year in charity relief in Vedder Court -alone.” - -Gail’s eyelids closed, her lashes curved on her cheeks for an instant, -and the corners of her lips twitched. - -“And how much a year does Market Square Church take out of Vedder -Court?” - -“I was waiting for that bit of impertinence,” laughed Manning. “I shall -be surprised at nothing you say since that first day when you -characterised Market Square Church as a remarkably lucrative enterprise. -Have you never felt any compunctions of conscience over that?” - -“Not once,” answered Gail promptly. She had started to seat herself on -one of the empty benches, but had changed her mind. “If I had been given -to any such self-injustice, however, I should reproach myself now. I -think Market Square Church not only commercial but criminal.” - -“I’ll have to give your soul a chastisement,” smiled Manning. “These -people must live somewhere, and because Vedder Court, being church -property, is exempt from taxation, they find cheaper rents here than -anywhere in the city. If we were to put up improved buildings, I don’t -know where they would go, because we would be compelled to charge more -rent.” - -“In order to make the same rate of profit,” responded Gail. “Out of all -this misery, Market Square Church is reaping a harvest rich enough to -build a fifty million dollar cathedral, and I have sufficient disregard -for the particular Deity under whom you do business, to feel sure that -he would not destroy it by lightning. I want out of here.” - -“Frankly, so do I,” admitted Manning; “although I’m ashamed of myself. -It’s all right for you, who are young, to be fastidious, but your Daddy -Manning is coward enough to want to make his peace with Heaven, after a -life which put a few blots on the book.” - -She looked at him speculatively for a moment, and then she laughed. - -“You know, I don’t believe that, Daddy Manning. You’re an old fraud, who -does good by stealth, in order to gain the reputation of having been -picturesquely wicked. Tell me why you belong to Market Square Church.” - -“Because it’s so respectable,” he twinkled down at her. “When an old -sinner has lost every other claim to respectability, he has himself put -on the vestry.” - -He dropped behind on their way to the door, to surreptitiously slip -something, which looked like money, to the man with the roughly hewn -countenance, and as he stood talking, the Reverend Smith Boyd came in, -not quite breathlessly, but as if he had hurried. - -“I knew you were here,” he said, taking Gail’s slender hand in his own; -then his eyes turned cold. - -“You recognised my pink ribbon bows,” and she laughed up at him frankly. -“You haven’t been over to sing lately.” - -“No,” he replied, seemingly blunt, because he could not say he had been -too busy. - -“Why?” this innocently round-eyed. - -Even bluntness could not save him here. - -“Will you be at home this evening?” he evaded, still with restraint. - -“I’ll have our music selected,” and, in the very midst of her -brightness, she was stopped by the sudden sombreness in the rector’s -eyes. - -“Eight o’clock?” - -“That will be quite agreeable.” - -Simple little conversation; quite trivial indeed, but it had been -attended by much shifting thought. To begin with, the rector regretted -the necessity of disapproving of a young lady so undeniably attractive. -She was a pleasure to the eye and a stimulus to the mind, and always his -first impulse when he thought of her was one of pleasure, but in the -very moment of taking her hand, he saw again that picture of Gail, -clasped in the arms of the impulsive young man from home. That picture -had made it distasteful for him to call and sing. He had not been too -busy! Another incident flashed back to him. The night of the toboggan -party, when she had stood with her face upturned, and the moonlight -gleaming on her round white throat. He had trembled, much to his later -sorrow, as he fastened the scarf about her warm neck. However, she was -the visiting niece of one of his vestrymen, who lived next door to the -rectory. She was particularly charming in this outfit of brown, which -enhanced so much her rich tints. - -Gail jerked her pretty head impatiently. If the Reverend Smith Boyd -meant to be as sombre as this, she’d rather he’d stay at home. He was -dreadfully gloomy at times; though she was compelled to admit that he -was good-looking, in a manly sort of way, and had a glorious voice and a -stimulating mind. She invariably recalled him with pleasure, but -something about him aggravated her so. Strange about that quick -withdrawal of his hand. It was almost rude. He had done the same thing -at the toboggan party. He had fastened her scarf, and then he had jerked -away his hands as if he were annoyed! However, he was the rector, and -her Uncle Jim was a vestryman, and they lived right next door. - -“You just escaped a blowing up, Doctor Boyd,” observed “Daddy” Manning, -joining them, and his eyes twinkled from one to the other. “Our young -friend from the west is harsh with the venerable Market Square Church.” - -“Again?” and the Reverend Smith Boyd was gracious enough to smile. “What -is the matter with it this time?” - -“It is not only commercial, but criminal,” repeated Manning, with a sly -smile at Gail, who now wore a little red spot in each cheek. - -“In what way?” and the rector turned to her severely. - -“The mere fact that your question needs an answer is sufficient -indication of the callousness of every one connected with Market Square -Church,” she promptly informed him. “That the church should permit a -spot like this to exist, when it has the power to obliterate it, is -unbelievable; but that it should make money from the condition is -infamous!” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd’s cold eyes turned green, as he glared at this -daring young person. In offending the dignity of Market Square Church -she offended his own. - -“What would you have us do?” he quietly asked. - -“Retire from business,” she informed him, nettled by the covert sneer at -her youth and inexperience. She laid aside a new perplexity for future -solution. In moments such as this the rector was far from ministerial, -and he displayed a quickness to anger quite out of proportion to the -apparent cause. “The whole trouble with Market Square Church, and of the -churches throughout the world, is that they have no God. The Creator has -been reduced to a formula.” - -Daddy Manning saved the rector the pain of any answer. - -“You’re a religious anarchist,” he charged Gail. - -Her face softened. - -“By no means,” she replied. “I am a devoted follower of the Divine -Spirit, the Divine Will, the Divine Law; but not of the church; for it -has forgotten these things.” - -“You don’t know what you are saying,” the rector told her. - -“That isn’t all you mean,” she retorted. “What you have in mind is that, -being a woman, and young, I should be silent. You would not permit -thought if you could avoid it, for when people begin to think, religion -lives but the church dies; as it is doing to-day.” - -Now the Reverend Smith Boyd could be triumphant. There was a curl of -sarcasm on his lips. - -“Are you quite consistent?” he charged. “You have just been objecting to -the prosperity of the church.” - -“Financially,” she admitted; “but it is a spiritual bankrupt. Your -financial prosperity is a direct sign of your religious decay. Your -financial bankruptcy will come later, as it has done in France, as it is -doing in Italy, as it will do all over the world. Humanity treats the -church with the generosity due a once valuable servant who has out-lived -his usefulness.” - -“My dear child, humanity can never do without religion,” interposed -Daddy Manning. - -“Agreed,” said Gail; “but it outgrows them. It outgrew paganism, -idolatry, and a score of minor phases in between. Now it is outgrowing -the religion of creed, in its progress toward morality. What we need is -a new religion.” - -“You are blaming the church with a fault which lies in the people,” -protested the rector, shocked and disturbed, and yet feeling it his duty -to set Gail right. He was ashamed of himself for having been severe with -her in his mind. She was less frivolous than he had thought, and what -she needed was spiritual instruction. “The people are luke-warm.” - -“What else could they be with the watery spiritual gruel which the -church provides?” retorted Gail. “You feed us discarded bugaboos, -outworn tenets, meaningless forms and ceremonies. All the rest of the -world progresses, but the church stands still. Once in a decade some -sect patches its creed, and thinks it has been revolutionary, when in -fact it has only caught up with a point which was passed by humanity at -large, in its advancing intelligence, fifty years before.” - -“I am interested in knowing what your particular new religion would be -like,” remarked Daddy Manning, his twinkling eyes resting affectionately -on her. - -“It would be a return to the simple faith in God,” Gail told him -reverently. “It is still in the hearts of the people, as it will always -be; but they have nowhere to gather together and worship.” - -Daddy Manning laughed as he detected that bit of sarcasm. - -“According to that we are wasting our new cathedral.” - -“Absolutely!” and it struck the rector with pain that Gail had never -looked more beautiful than now, with her cheeks flushed and her brown -eyes snapping with indignation. “Your cathedral will be a monument, -built out of the profits wrung from squalor, to the vanity of your -congregation. If I were the dictator of this wonderful city of -achievement, I would decree that cathedral never to be built, and Vedder -Court to be utterly destroyed!” - -“It is perhaps just as well that you are not the dictator of the city.” -The young Reverend Smith Boyd gazed down at her from his six feet of -serious purpose, with all his previous disapproval intensified. “The -history of Market Square Church is rich with instances of its usefulness -in both the spiritual and the material world, with evidence of its power -for good, with justification for its existence, with reason for its -acts. You make the common mistake of judging an entire body from one -surface indication. Do you suppose there is no sincerity, no conscience, -no consecration in Market Square Church?” His deep, mellow baritone -vibrated with the defence of his purpose and that of the institution -which he represented. “Why do you suppose our vestrymen, whose time is -of enormous value, find a space amid their busy working hours for the -affairs of Market Square Church? Why do you suppose the ladies of our -guild, who have agreeable pursuits for every hour of the day, give their -time to committee and charity work?” He paused for a hesitant moment. -“Why do you suppose I am so eager for the building, on American soil, of -the most magnificent house of worship in the world?” - -Gail’s pretty upper lip curled. - -“Personal ambition!” she snapped, and, without waiting to see the pallor -which struck his face to stone, she heeled her way out through the mud -to her coupé. - - - - - CHAPTER X - THE STORM CENTRE OF MAGNETIC ATTRACTION - - -“Brother Bones,” said Interlocutor Ted Teasdale commandingly, with his -knuckles on his right knee and his elbow at the proper angle. - -“Yes, sir, Mr. Interlocutor,” replied Willis Cunningham, whose -“black-face make-up” seemed marvellously absurd in connection with his -brown Vandyke. - -“Brother Bones, when does everybody love a storm?” - -“I don’t know, Mr. Interlocutor,” admitted Brother Bones Cunningham, -touching his kinky wig with the tip of one forefinger. “When does -everybody love a storm?” - -Interlocutor Ted Teasdale roved his eye over the assemblage, of fifty or -more, in his own ballroom, and smiled in a superior fashion. The -ebony-faced semicircle of impromptu minstrels, banded together that -morning, leaned forward with anticipatory grins. They had heard the joke -in rehearsal. It was a corker! - -“When it’s a Gail,” he replied, whereat Gail Sargent, at whom everybody -looked and laughed, flushed prettily, and the bones and tambos made a -flourish, and the Interlocutor announced that the Self Help Glee Club -would now sing that entrancing ditty, entitled “Mary Had a Little Calf.” - -It was only in the blossom of the evening at Ted Teasdale’s country -house, the same being about eleven o’clock, and the dance was still to -begin. Lucile Teasdale’s vivid idea for making her house-party notable -was to induce their guests to amuse themselves; and their set had -depended upon hired entertainers for so long that the idea had all the -charm of distinct novelty. There had been an amazingly smart operetta -written on the spot by Willis Cunningham, and with musical settings by -Arlene Fosland. Rippingly clever thing! “The Tea Room Suffragettes!” -Ball afterwards, of course, until four o’clock in the morning. To-night -the minstrel show, and a ball; to-morrow night tableaux vivant, and a -ball; fancy dress this time, and all costumes to be devised from the -materials at hand by the wearer’s own ingenuity. Fine? No end of it! One -could always be sure of having a lively time around Lucile and Ted -Teasdale and Arly Fosland. Gerald Fosland was at this party. Fine chap, -Gerald, and beautifully decent in his attentions to Arly. Pity they were -so rotten bored with each other; but there you were! Each should have -married a blonde. - -Gail Sargent fairly scintillated with enjoyment. She had never attended -so brilliant a house-party. Her own set back home had a lot of fun, but -this was in some way different. The people were no more clever, but -there were more clever people among them; that was it. There had been a -wider range from which to pick, which was why, in New York, there were -so many circles, and circles within circles. - -Gail was sparkling all the time. There was a constant flash of wit, not -of a very high order, to be sure, nor exceptionally brilliant, which -latter was its chief charm. Some wit has to be taken so very seriously. -There were dashes into the brisk, exhilarating winter air, there were -lazy breakfasts, where three or four of the girls grouped in one room, -there was endless gaiety and laughter, and, above all, oceans and oceans -of flirtation. The men whom Lucile and Arly had collected were an -especial joy. They had all the accomplished outward symbols of fervour -without any of its oppressive insistence. Gail, as an agreeable duty to -her new found self, experimented with several of them, and found them -most amusing and pleasant, but nothing more disturbing. - -Dick Rodley was the most persistent, and, in spite of the fact that he -was so flawlessly handsome as to excite ridicule, Gail found herself, by -and by, defending him against her own iconoclastic sense of humour. He -reached her after the minstrel show, while Houston Van Ploon and Willis -Cunningham were still struggling profanely with their burnt cork, and he -stole her from under the very eyes of Jack Lariby, while that smitten -youth was exchanging wit, at a tremendous loss, with caustic Arly -Fosland. - -“Have you seen the new century plant in the conservatory?” Dick asked, -beaming down at her, his black eyes glowing like coals. - -Gail’s eyelids flashed down for an instant, and the corners of her lips -twitched. Young Lariby had only been with her five minutes, but she had -felt herself ageing in that time. - -“I love them,” she avowed, and glancing backward just once, she tiptoed -hastily away with the delighted Dick. That young man had looked deep -into the eyes of many women, and at last he was weary of being adored. -He led Gail straight to the sequestered corner behind the date palms, -but it was occupied by Bobby Chalmers and Flo Reynolds. He strolled with -Gail to the seat behind the rose screen, but it was fully engaged, and -he led the way out toward the geranium alcove. - -“I’ve missed you so this evening,” he earnestly confided to her. “I was -two hours in the minstrel show. It was forever, Gail!” and he bent his -glowing eyes upon her. That was it! His wonderful eyes! They were -magnetic, compelling, and one would be dull who could not find a -response to the thrill of them. - -“Where is the century plant?” He was a tremendously pleasant fellow. -When she walked through a crowded room with Dick, she knew, from the -looks of admiration, just what people were saying; that they were an -extraordinarily handsome couple. - -“There is no century plant,” he shamelessly confessed. - -“I knew it,” and she laughed. - -“I don’t mind admitting that it was a point-blank lie,” he cheerfully -told her. “I wanted to get you out here alone, all to myself,” and his -voice went down two tones. He did do it so prettily! - -“I’ve counted seven couples,” she gaily responded. - -He tightened his arm where her hand lay in it, and she left it there. - -“You’ve clinched Lucile’s reputation,” he stated. “She always has been -famous for picking good ones; but she saved you for the climax.” - -“My happy, happy childhood days,” laughed Gail. “The boys used to talk -that way on the way home from school.” - -“I don’t doubt it,” and Dick smiled appreciatively. “The dullest sort of -a boy would find himself saying nice things to you; but I shall stop -it.” - -“Oh, please don’t!” begged Gail. “You are so delightful at it.” - -He pounced on a corner half hidden by a tub of ferns. There was no bench -there, but it was at least semi-isolated, and he leaned gracefully -against the window-ledge, looking down at her earnestly as she stood, -slenderly outlined against the green of the ferns, in her gown of -delicate blue sparkling with opalescent flakes. - -“That’s just the trouble,” he complained. “I don’t wish you to be aware -that I am saying what you call pretty things. I wish, instead, to be -effective,” and there was a roughness in his voice which had come for -the first time. She was a trifle startled by it, and she lowered her -eyes before the steady gaze which he poured down on her. Why, he was in -earnest! - -“Then take me to Lucile,” she smiled up at him, and strolled in toward -the ballroom. - -Willis Cunningham met them at the door. - -“You promised me the first dance,” he breathlessly informed Gail. He had -been walking rapidly. - -“Are they ready?” she inquired, stepping a pace away from Dick. - -“Well, the musicians are coming in,” evaded Cunningham, tucking her hand -in his arm. - -“I’ve the second one, remember, Gail,” Dick reminded her, as he glanced -around the ballroom for his own partner, but Gail distinctly felt his -eyes following her as she walked away with Cunningham. - -“I know now of what your profile reminds me,” Cunningham told her; “the -Charmeaux ‘Praying Nymph.’ It is the most spiritually beautiful of all -the pictures in the Louvre.” - -“I wonder which is the stronger emotion in me just now,” she returned; -“gratified vanity or curiosity.” - -“I hope it’s the latter,” smiled Cunningham. “I recall now a gallery in -which there is a very good copy of the Charmeaux canvas, and I’d be -delighted to take you.” - -“I’ll go with pleasure,” promised Gail, and Cunningham turned to her -with a grateful smile. - -“I would prefer to show you the original,” he ventured. - -“Oh, look at them tuning their drums,” cried Gail, and he thought that -she had entirely missed his hint, that the keenest delight in his life -would be to lead her through the Louvre, and from thence to a -perspective of picture galleries, dazzling with all the hues of the -spectrum, and as long as life! - -He had other things which he wanted to say, but he calculatingly -reserved them for the day of the picture viewing, when he would have her -exclusive attention; so, through the dance, he talked of trifles far -from his heart. He was a nice chap, too. - -Dick Rodley was on hand with the last stroke of the music, to claim her -for his dance. By one of those waves of unspoken agreement, Gail was -being “rushed.” It was her night, and she enjoyed it to the full. -Perhaps the new awakening in Gail, the crystallisation of which she had -been forced to become conscious, had something to do with this. Her -cheeks, while no more beautiful in their delicacy of colouring, had a -certain quality of translucence, which gave her the indefinable effect -of glowing from within; her eyes, while no brighter, had changed the -manner of their brightness. They had lost something of their sparkle, -which had been replaced by a peculiarly enticing half-veiled -scintillation, much as if they were smouldering, only to cast off -streams of brilliant sparks at the slightest disturbance; while all -about her was the vague intangible aura of magnetic attraction which -seemed to flutter and to soothe and to call, all in one. - -Dick Rodley was the first to know this vague change in her; perhaps -because Dick, with all his experience in the social diversion of -love-making, was, after all, more spiritual in his physical perceptions. -At any rate he hovered near her at every opportunity throughout the -evening, and his own eyes, which had the natural trick of glowing, now -almost blazed when they met those of Gail. She liked him, and she did -not. She was thrown into a flutter of pleasure when he came near her, -she enjoyed a clash of wit, and of will, and of snappy mutual -attraction; then suddenly she wanted him away from her, only to welcome -him eagerly when he came back. - -Van Ploon danced with her, danced conscientiously, keeping perfect time -to the music, avoiding, with practised adroitness, every possible -pocketing, or even hem contacts with surrounding couples, and acquitting -himself of lightly turned observations at the expiration of about every -seventy seconds. He was aware that Gail was exceptionally pretty -to-night, but, if he stopped to analyse it at all, he probably ascribed -it to her delicate blue dancing frock with its opalescent flakes, or her -coiffure, or something of the sort. He quite approved of her; -extraordinarily so. He had never met a girl who approached so near the -thousand per cent. grade of perfection by all the blue ribbon points. - -It was while she was enjoying her second restful dance with Van Ploon -that Gail, swinging with him near the south windows, heard the honk of -an auto horn, and a repetition close after, and, by the acceleration of -tone, she discerned that the machine was coming up the drive at -break-neck speed. Moreover, her delicately attuned musical ear -recognised something familiar in the sound of the horn; perhaps tone, -perhaps duration, perhaps inflection, more likely a combination of all -three. Consequently, she was not at all surprised when, near the -conclusion of the dance, she saw Allison standing in the doorway of the -ballroom, with his hands in his pockets, watching her with a smile. Her -eyes lighted with pleasure, and she nodded gaily to him over Van Ploon’s -tall shoulder. When the dance stopped she was on the far side of the -room, and was instantly the centre of a buzzing little knot of dancers, -from out of which carefree laughter radiated like visible flashes of -musical sound. She emerged from the group with the arms of two -bright-eyed girls around her waist, and met Allison sturdily breasting -the currents which had set towards the conservatory, the drawing-rooms, -or the buffet. - -“Nobody has saved me a dance,” he complained. - -“Nobody expected you until to-morrow,” Gail smilingly returned, -introducing him to the girls. “I’ll beg you one of my dances from Ted or -somebody.” - -She was so obviously slated to entertain Allison during this little -intermission, that Van Ploon, following the trio in duty bound, took one -of the girls and went away, and her partner led the other one to the -music room. - -“I’ll have Lucile piece you out a card,” offered Gail, as they strolled -naturally across to the little glass enclosed balcony. “I don’t think I -can secure you one of Arly’s dances. She’s scandalously popular -to-night.” - -“One will be enough for me, unless you can steal me some more of your -own,” he told her, glancing down at her, from coiffure to blue pointed -slippers, with calm appreciation. “You are looking great to-night,” and -his gaze came back to rest in her glowing eyes. Her fresh colour had -been heightened by the excitement of the evening, but now an added flush -swept lightly over her cheeks, and passed. - -“I’ll see what I can do,” she speculated, looking at her dance card. -“The next three are with total strangers, and of course I can’t touch -those,” she laughed. “The fourth one is with Willis Cunningham, and -after that is a brief wilderness again. I think one is all you get.” - -“I’m lucky even to have that,” declared Allison in content. “The fourth -dance down. That will just give me time to punish the buffet. I’m hungry -as a bear. I started out here without my dinner.” - -They stood at the balcony windows looking out into the wintry night. -There was not much to see, not even the lacing of the bare trees against -the clouded sky. The snow had gone, and where the light from the windows -cut squarely on the ground were bare walks, and cold marble, and dead -lawn; all else was blackness; but it was a sufficient landscape for -people so intensely concentrated upon themselves. - -Her next partner came in search of her presently, and the music struck -up, and Allison, nodding to his many acquaintances jovially, for he was -in excellent humour in these days of building, and planning, and -clearing ground for an entirely new superstructure of life, circled -around to the dining room, where he performed savage feats at the -buffet. Soon he was out again, standing quietly at the edge of things, -and watching Gail with keen pleasure, both when she danced and when, in -the intermissions, the gallants of the party gravitated to her like -needles to a magnet. Her popularity pleased him, and flattered him. -Suddenly he caught sight of Eldridge Babbitt, a middle-aged man who was -watching a young woman with the same pleasure Allison was experiencing -in the contemplation of Gail. - -“Just the man I wanted to see,” announced Allison, making his way to -Babbitt. “I have a new freightage proposition for the National Dairy -Products Consolidation.” - -Babbitt brightened visibly. He had been missing something keenly these -past two days, and now all at once he realised what it was; business. - -“I can’t see any possible new angle,” returned Babbitt cautiously, and -with a backward glance at the dashing young Mrs. Babbitt. He headed -instinctively for the library. - -Laughingly Gail finished her third dance down. She had enjoyed several -sparkling encounters in passing with Dick Rodley, and she was buoyantly -exhilarated as she started to stroll from the floor with her partner. -She had wanted to find cherub-cheeked Marion Kenneth, and together they -walked through the conservatory, and the dining room, and the deserted -billiard room, with its bright light on the green cloth and all the rest -of the room in dimness. There was a narrow space at one point between -the chairs and the table, and it unexpectedly wedged them into close -contact. With a sharp intake of his breath, the fellow, a ruddy-faced, -thick-necked, full-lipped young man who had followed her with his eyes -all evening, suddenly turned, and caught her in his embrace, and, -holding back her head in the hollow of his arm, kissed her; a new kiss -to her, and horrible! - -Suddenly he released her, and stepped back abruptly, filled with -remorse. - -“Forgive me, Miss Sargent,” he begged. - -Gail nodded her numb acceptance of the apology, and turning, hurried out -of the side door to the veranda. Her knees were trembling, but the -fresh, cold air steadied her, and she walked the full length of the wide -porch, trying instinctively to forget the sickening humiliation. As she -came to the corner of the house, the sharp winter wind tore at her, -smote her throat, clutched at her bare shoulders, and stopped her with a -sharp physical command. She drew her gauzy little dancing scarf around -her, and held it tightly knotted at her throat, and edged closer to the -house. She was near a window, and, advancing a step, she looked in. It -was the library, and Allison sat there, so clean and wholesome looking, -with his pink shaven face and his white evening waistcoat, and his dark -hair beginning to sprinkle with grey at the temples. He was so sturdy -and so strong and so dependable looking, as he sat earnestly talking -with Babbitt. Allison said something, and they both smiled; then Babbitt -said something and they both threw back their heads and laughed, while -Allison, with one hand in his pocket, waved his other hand over a -memorandum pad which lay between them. Gail hurried to the front door -and rang the bell. - -“Hello, Gail,” greeted the cheery voice of Allison, as she came in. “My -dance next, isn’t it?” - -His voice was so good, so comforting, so reassuring. - -“I think so,” she replied, standing hesitantly in the doorway, and -thankful that the lights were canopied in this room. - -Allison drew the memorandum pad toward him, and rose. - -[Illustration: She was glad to be alone, to rescue herself from the -whirl of anger and indignation and humiliation which had swept around -her] - -“By the way, there’s one thing I forgot to tell you, Babbitt, and it’s -rather important.” He hesitated and glanced toward the door. “You’ll -excuse me just half a minute, won’t you, Gail?” - -She had noticed that assumption of intimate understanding in him before, -and she had secretly admired it. Now it was a comfort and a joy. - -“Surely,” she granted, and passed on in to the library alcove, a -sheltered nook where she was glad to be alone, to rescue herself from -the whirl of anger, and indignation, and humiliation—above all, -humiliation!—which had swept around her. What had she done to bring this -despicable experience upon herself? What evil thing had there been in -her to summons forth this ugly spectre? She had groped almost -deliberately for that other polarity which should complete her, but this -painful moment was not one of the things for which she had sought. She -could not know, but she had passed one of the inevitable milestones. The -very crystallisation which had brightened and whetted her to a keen zest -in her natural destiny, had attracted this fellow, inevitably. Her face -was hot and cold by turns, and she was almost on the point of crying, in -spite of her constantly reiterated self-admonishment that she must -control herself here, when Allison came to the door of the alcove. - -“All right, Gail,” he said laconically. - -She felt suddenly weary, but she rose and joined him. When she slipped -her hand in his arm, strong, and warm, and pulsing, she was aware of a -thrill from it, but the thrill was just restfulness. - -“You look a little tired,” judged the practical Allison, as they -strolled, side by side, into the hall, and he patted the slender hand -which lay on his arm. - -“Not very,” she lightly replied, and unconsciously she snuggled her hand -more comfortably into its resting place. A little sigh escaped her lips, -deep-drawn and fluttering. It was a sigh of content. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - “GENTLEMEN, THERE IS YOUR EMPIRE!” - - -The seven quiet gentlemen who sat with Allison at his library table, -followed the concluding flourish of his hand toward the map on the wall, -and either nodded or blinked appreciatively. The red line on his map was -complete now, a broad, straight line from the Atlantic to the Pacific, -and to it were added, on either side, irregular, angling red lines like -the legs of a centipede, the feeders of the various systems which were -under control of the new Atlantic-Pacific Railroad. - -“That’s a brilliant piece of engineering, Allison,” observed huge -Richard Haverman, by way of pleasant comment, and he glanced admiringly -at Allison after his eye had roved around the little company of -notables. The feat of bringing these seven men together at a specific -hour, was greater than having consolidated the brilliant new -Atlantic-Pacific Railroad. - -“Let’s get to the details,” barked a voice with the volume of a St. -Bernard. It came from Arthur Grandin, the head of the Union Fuel -Company, which controlled all the wood and coal in the United States, -and all the oil in the world. His bald spot came exactly on a level with -the back of his chair, and he wore a fierce moustache. - -“I’m putting in the Atlantic-Pacific as my share of the pool, -gentlemen,” explained Allison. “My project, as I have told you, is to -make this the main trunk, the vertebræ as it were, of the International -Transportation Company. I have consolidated with the A.-P. the Municipal -Transportation Company, and I have put my entire fortune in it, to lay -it on the table absolutely unencumbered.” - -He threw down the Atlantic-Pacific Railroad and the Municipal -Transportation Company in the form of a one sheet typewritten paper. - -“We’d better appoint some one to look after the legal end of things,” -suggested the towering Haverman, whose careless, lounging attitude -contrasted oddly with his dignified long beard. - -“I’ll take care of it,” said W. T. Chisholm, of the Majestic Trust -Company, and drawing the statement in front of him, he set a paperweight -on it. - -“The first step is not one of incorporation,” went on Allison. “Before -that is done there must be but one railroad system in the United -States.” - -Smooth-shaven old Joseph G. Clark nodded his head. There was but one -cereal company in the United States, and the Standard, in the beginning, -had been the smallest. Two of the heads of rival concerns were now in -Clark’s employ, one was a pauper, and three were dead. He disliked the -pauper. - -Robert E. Taylor, of the American Textiles Company, a man who had quite -disproved the theory that constructive business genius was confined to -the North, smoothed his grey moustache reflectively, with the tip of his -middle finger, all the way out to its long point. - -“I can see where you will tear up the east and west traffic situation to -a considerable extent,” he thoughtfully commented; “but without the -important north and south main trunks you can not make a tight web.” - -Allison went over to his wall map, with a step in which there was the -spring of a boy. A. L. Vance, of the United States Supplies Company, -which controlled beef, sugar, and practically all other food products, -except those mighty necessities under the sways of the Standard Cereal -Company and Eldridge Babbitt’s National Dairy Products Consolidation, -studied the buoyant Allison with a puzzled expression. He had seen -Allison grow to care-burdened manhood, and suddenly Ed seemed twenty -years younger. Only Eldridge Babbitt knew the secret of this miraculous -rejuvenescence. Babbitt had married late in life; a beautiful young -woman! - -“The key to the north and south situation is here,” said Allison, and he -drew a firm, swift, green line down across the United States, branching -at each end. “George Dalrymple will be here in half an hour, and by that -time I trust we may come to some agreement.” - -“It depends on what you want,” boomed Arthur Grandin, who, sitting -beside the immense Haverman, looked as if that giant had shrunk him by -his mere proximity. - -“Freight, to begin with,” stated Allison, resuming his place at the head -of the table, but not his seat. “You gentlemen represent the largest -freightage interests in the United States. You all know your relative -products, and yet, in order to grasp this situation completely, I wish -to enumerate them. Babbitt’s National Dairy Products Consolidation can -swing the shipment of every ounce of butter, cream, cheese, eggs and -poultry handled in this country; Clark’s Standard Cereal Company, wheat, -corn, oats, rice, barley, malt, flour, every ounce of breadstuffs or -cereal goods, grown on American soil; Haverman, the Amalgamated Metals -Constructive Company, every pound of iron, lead, and copper, and every -ton of ore, from the moment it leaves the ground until it appears as an -iron web in a city sky or spans a river; Grandin, the Union Fuel -Company, coal and wood, from Alaska to Pennsylvania, with oil and all -its enormous by-products; Taylor, the American Textiles Company, wool, -cotton, flax, the raw and finished material of every thread of clothing -we wear, or any other textile fabric we use except silk; Vance, the -United States Supplies Company, meat, sugar, fruit, the main blood and -sinew builders of the country. Gentlemen, give me the freightage -controlled by your six companies, and I’ll toss the rest of the -country’s freightage to a beggar.” - -“You forgot Chisholm,” Babbitt reminded him, and Banker Chisholm’s white -mutton chops turned pink from the appreciation which glowed in his -ruddy-veined face. - -“Allison was quite right,” returned big Haverman with a dry smile. “The -freightage income on money is an item scarcely worth considering.” - -“Give the Atlantic-Pacific this freight, and, inside of two years, the -entire business of the United States, with all its ramifications, will -be merged in one management, and that management ours. We shall not need -to absorb, nor purchase, a single railroad until it is bankrupt.” - -“Sensible idea, Allison,” approved Clark, of the Standard Cereal -Company. “It’s a logical proposition which I had in mind years ago.” - -“Allison’s stroke of genius, it seems to me, consists in getting us -together,” smiled big Haverman, hanging his arm over the back of his -chair. - -Banker Chisholm leaned forward on the table, and stroked his round chin -reflectively. “There would be some disorganisation, and perhaps -financial disorder, in the first two years,” he considered; “but the -railroads are already harassed too much by the government to thrive -under competition, and, in the end, I believe this proposed -centralisation would be the best thing for the interests of the -country”; wherein Chisholm displayed that he was a vestryman of Market -Square Church wherever he went. - -“What is your proposition?” asked Grandin, who, because of the -self-assertion necessitated by his diminutive size, seemed pompous, but -was not. No pompous man could have merged the wood, coal, and oil -interests, and, having merged them, swung them over his own shoulder. - -Allison’s answer consisted of one word. - -“Consolidation,” he said. - -There was a moment of silence, while these men absorbed that simple -idea, and glanced speculatively, not at Allison, but at each other. They -were kings, these heads of mighty corporations, whose emissaries carried -their sovereignties into the furthest corners of the earth. Like -friendly kings, they had helped each other in the protection of their -several domains; but this was another matter. - -“That’s a large proposition, Ed,” stated Vance, very thoughtfully. All -sense of levity had gone from this meeting. They had come, as they -thought, to promote a large mutual interest, but not to weld a -Frankenstein. “I did not understand your project to be so comprehensive. -I fancied your idea to be that the various companies represented here, -with Chisholm as financial controller, should take a mutual interest in -the support of the Atlantic-Pacific Railroad, for the purpose of -consolidating the railroad interests of the country under one -management, thereby serving our own transportation needs.” - -“Very well put, Vance,” approved Taylor, smoothing his pointed -moustache. - -“That is a mere logical development of the railroad situation,” returned -Allison. “If I had not cemented this direct route, some one would have -made the consolidation you mention within ten years, for the entire -railroad situation has been disorganised since the death of three big -men in that field; and the scattered holdings would be, and are, an easy -prey for any one vitally interested enough to invade the industry. I -have no such minor proposition in mind. I propose, with the -Atlantic-Pacific as a nucleus, to, first, as I have said, bring the -financial terminals of every mile of railroad in the United States into -one central office. With this I then propose to combine the National -Dairy Products Consolidation, the Standard Cereal Company, the -Amalgamated Metals Constructive Company, the Union Fuel, American -Textiles, the United States Supplies, and the stupendous financial -interests swayed by the banks tributary to the Majestic Trust Company. I -propose to weld these gigantic concerns into one corporation, which -shall be the mightiest organisation the world has ever known. Beginning -with the control of transportation, it will control all food, all -apparel, all construction materials, all fuel. From the shoes on his -feet to the roof over his head, every man in the United States of -America, from labourer to president, shall pay tribute to the -International Transportation Company. Gentlemen, if I have dreamed big, -it is because I have dealt with men who deal only in large dreams. What -I propose is an empire greater than that ever swayed by any monarch in -history. We eight men, who are here in this room, can build that empire -with a scratch of a pen, and can hold it against the assaults of the -world!” - -His voice rang as he finished, and Babbitt looked at him in wonder. -Allison had always been a strong man, but now, in this second youth, he -was an Anteus springing fresh from the earth. There was a moment’s lull, -and then a nasal voice drawled into the silence. - -“Allison;” it was the voice of old Joseph G. Clark, who had built the -Standard Cereal Company out of one wheat elevator; “who is to be the -monarch of your new empire?” - -For just a moment Allison looked about him. Vastly different as these -men were, from the full-bearded Haverman to the smooth-shaven old Joseph -G. Clark, there was some one expression which was the same in every man, -and that expression was mastery. These men, by the sheer force of their -personality, by the sheer dominance of their wills, by the sheer -virility of their purposes, by the sheer dogged persistence which balks -at no obstacle and hesitates at no foe, had fought and strangled and -throttled their way to the top, until they stood head and shoulders -above all the strong men of their respective domains, safe from protest -or dispute of sovereignty, because none had risen strong enough to do -them battle. They were the undefeated champions of their classes, and -the life of every man in that group was an epic! Who was to be monarch -of the new empire? Allison answered that question as simply as he had -the others. - -“The best man,” he said. - -There had been seven big men in America. Now there were eight. They all -recognised that. - -“Of course,” went on Allison, “my proposition does not assume that any -man here will begin by relinquishing control of his own particular -branch of the International Transportation Company; sugar, beef, iron, -steel, oil, and the other commodities will all be under their present -handling; but each branch will so support and benefit the other that the -position of the consolidation itself will be impregnable against -competition or the assaults of government. The advantages of control, -collection, and distribution, are so vast that they far outweigh any -possible question of personal aggrandisement.” - -“Don’t hedge, Allison,” barked Arthur Grandin. “You expressed it right -in the first place. You’re putting it up to us to step out of the local -championship class, and contend for the big belt.” - -“The prize isn’t big enough,” pronounced W. T. Chisholm, as if he had -decided for them all. As befitted his calling, he was slower minded than -the rest. There are few quick turns in banking. - -“Not big enough?” repeated Allison. “Not big enough, when the Union Fuel -Company already supplies every candle which goes into the Soudan, runs -the pumps on the Nile and the motor boats on the Yang-Tse-Kyang, -supplies the oil for the lubrication of the car of Juggernaut, and works -the propeller of every aeroplane? Not big enough, when already the -organisations represented here have driven their industries into every -quarter of the earth? What shall you say when we join to our nucleus the -great steamship lines and the foreign railroads? Not big enough? -Gentlemen, look here!” He strode over to the big globe. From New York to -San Francisco a red line had already been traced. Now he took a pencil -in his hand, and placing the point at New York, gave the globe a whirl, -girding it completely. “Gentlemen, there is your empire!” - -Again the nasal voice of old Joseph G. Clark drawled into the silence. - -“I suggest that we discuss in detail the conditions of the -consolidation,” he remarked. - -The bell of Allison’s house phone rang. - -“Mr. Dalrymple, sir,” said the voice of Ephraim. - -“Very well,” replied Allison. “Show him into the study. Babbitt, will -you read to the gentlemen this skeleton plan of organisation? If you’ll -excuse me, I’ll be back in five minutes.” - -“Dalrymple?” inquired Taylor. - -“Yes,” answered Allison abstractedly, and went into the study. - -He and Dalrymple looked at each other silently for a moment, with the -old enmity shining between them. Dalrymple, a man five years Allison’s -senior, a brisk speaking man with a protruding jaw and deep-set grey -eyes, had done more than any other one human being to develop the -transportation systems of New York, but his gift had been in -construction, in creation, whereas Allison’s had been in combination; -and Dalrymple had gone into the railroad business. - -“Dalrymple, I’m going to give you a chance,” said Allison briskly. “I -want the Gulf and Great Lakes Railroad system.” - -Dalrymple had produced a cigar while he waited for Allison, and now he -lit it. He sat on the corner of the study table and surveyed Allison -critically. - -“I don’t doubt it,” he replied. “The system is almost completed.” - -“I’ll accept a fair offer for your controlling interest,” went on -Allison. - -“And if I won’t sell?” - -“Then I’ll jump on you to-morrow in the stock exchange, and take it away -from you.” - -Dalrymple smiled. - -“You can’t do it. I own my controlling interest outright, and no stock -gamblings on the board of trade can affect either a share of my stock or -the earning capacity of my railroad. When you drove me out of the -traction field, I took advantage of my experience and entrenched myself. -Go on and gamble.” - -“I wish you wouldn’t take that attitude,” returned Allison, troubled. -“It looks to you as if I were pursuing you because of that old quarrel; -but I want you to know that I’m not vindictive.” - -“I don’t think you are,” replied Dalrymple, with infinite contempt. -“You’re just a damned hog.” - -A hot flush swept over Allison’s face, but it was gone in an instant. - -“It happens that I need the new Gulf and Great Lakes system,” he went -on, in a perfectly level voice; “and I prefer to buy it from you at a -fair price.” - -Dalrymple put on his hat. - -“It isn’t for sale,” he stated. - -“Just a minute, Dalrymple,” interposed Allison. “I want to show you -something. Look in here,” and he opened the library door. - -Dalrymple stepped to the opening and saw, not merely seven men, -middle-aged and past, sitting around a library table, but practically -all the freightable necessities of the United States and practically all -its money, a power against which his many million dollar railroad system -was of no more opposition than a toy train. - -“—the transportation department to be governed by a council composed of -the representatives of the various other departments herein mentioned,” -droned on the voice of Babbitt. - -The representatives of the various other departments therein mentioned -were bent in concentrated attention on every sentence, and phrase, and -word, and syllable of that important document, not omitting to pay -important attention to the pauses which answered for commas; and none -looked up. Dalrymple closed the door gently. - -“Now will you sell?” inquired Allison. - -For a moment the two men looked into each other’s eyes, while the old -enmity, begun while they were still in the womb of time, lay chill -between them. At one instant, Dalrymple, whose jaw muscles were working -convulsively, half raised his hands, as if he were minded to fall on -Allison and strangle him; and it was not the fact that Allison was -probably the stronger man which restrained him, but a bigger pride. - -“No,” he said, again with that infinite contempt in his tone. “Break -me.” - -“All right,” accepted Allison cheerfully, and even with relief; for his -way was now free to pursue its normal course. He crossed to the door -which opened into the hall, and politely bowed Dalrymple into the -guidance of old Ephraim. - -“Dalrymple won’t sell,” he reported, when he rejoined his fellow members -of the International Transportation Company. - -Joseph G. Clark looked up from a set of jotted memoranda which he had -been nonchalantly setting down during the reading. - -“We’ll pick it up in the stock market,” he carelessly suggested. - -“Can’t,” replied Allison, with equal carelessness. “He’s entrenched with -solid control, and I imagine he doesn’t owe a dollar.” - -Chisholm, with his fingers in his white mutton chops, was studying -clean-shaven old Clark’s memoranda. - -“A panic will be necessary, anyhow,” he observed. “We’ll acquire the -road then.” - - - - - CHAPTER XII - GAIL SOLVES THE PROBLEM OF VEDDER COURT - - -The Reverend Smith Boyd, rector of the richest church in the world, -dropped his last collar button on the floor, and looked distinctly -annoyed. The collar button rolled under his mahogany highboy, and -concealed itself carefully behind one of the legs. The Reverend Smith -Boyd, there being none to see, laid aside his high dignity, and got down -on his knees, though not for any clerical purpose. With his suspenders -hanging down his back, he sprawled his long arms under the highboy in -all directions, while his face grew red; and the little collar button, -snuggled carefully out of sight behind the furthest leg, just shone and -shone. The rector, the ticking of whose dressing-room clock admonished -him that the precious moments were passing never to return again, -twisted his neck, and bent his head sidewise, and inserted it under the -highboy, one ear scraping the rug and the other the bottom of the lowest -drawer. No collar button. He withdrew his neck, and twisted his head in -the opposite direction, and inserted his head again under the highboy, -so that the ear which had scraped the carpet now scraped the bottom of -the drawer, whereat the little collar button shone so brightly that the -rector’s bulging eye caught the glint of it. His hand swung round, at -the end of a long arm, and captured it before it could hide any further, -then the young rector withdrew his throbbing head and started to raise -up, and bumped the back of his head with a crack on the bottom of an -open drawer, near enough to the top to give him a good long sweep for -momentum. This mishap being just one degree beyond the point to which -the Reverend Smith Boyd had been consecrated, he ejaculated as follows:— - -No, it is not respectful, nor proper, nor charitable, to set down what -the Reverend Smith Boyd, in that stress, ejaculated; but a beautiful, -grey-haired lady, beautiful with the sweetness of content and the -happiness of gratified pride and the kindliness of humour, who had -paused at the Reverend Smith Boyd’s open door to inquire how soon he -would be down to dinner, hastily covered her mouth with her hand, and -moved away from the door, with moist blue eyes, around which twinkled a -dozen tiny wrinkles born of much smiling. - -When the dignified young rector came down to dinner, fully clothed and -apparently in his right mind, his mother, who was the beautiful -grey-haired lady with the twinkling blue eyes, looked across the table -and smiled indulgently at his disguise; for he was not a grown-up, tall, -broad-shouldered man of thirty-two at all. In reality he was a -shock-headed, slightly freckled urchin of nine or ten, by the name of -“Smitty” on the town commons, and “Tod” at home. - -“Aren’t you becoming a trifle irritable of late, Tod?” she inquired with -solicitude, willfully suppressing a smile which flashed up in her as she -remembered that ejaculation. It was shocking in a minister, of course, -but she had ever contended that ministers were, and should be, made of -clay; and clay is friable. - -“Yes, mother, I believe I am,” confessed the Reverend Smith Boyd, -considering the matter with serious impartiality. - -“You are not ill in any way?” - -“Not at all,” he hastily assured her. - -“Your cold is all gone?” - -“Entirely. As a matter of fact, mother,” and he smiled, “I don’t think I -had one.” - -“If you hadn’t drank that tea, and taken the mustard foot bath, and -wrapped the flannel around your throat, it might have been a severe -one,” his mother complacently replied. “You haven’t been studying too -much?” - -“No,” and the slightest flicker of impatience twitched his brows. - -“You’ve no headache?” and the tone was as level as if she had not seen -that flicker. - -“No, mother.” - -“Do you sleep well?” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd took a drink of water. His hand trembled -slightly. - -“Excellently.” - -Mrs. Boyd surveyed her son with a practised eye. - -“I think your appetite’s dropping off a little,” she commented, and then -she was shrewdly silent, though the twinkles of humour came back to her -eyes by and by. “I don’t think you take enough social diversion,” she -finally advised him. “You should go out more. You should ride, walk, but -always in the company of young and agreeable people. Because you are a -rector is no reason for you to spend your spare time in gloomy solitude, -as you have been doing for the past week.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd would have liked to state that he had been very -busy, but he had a conscience, which was a nuisance to him. He had spent -most of his spare time up in his study, with his chin in his hand. - -“You are quite right, mother,” he sombrely confessed, and swallowed two -spoonfuls of his soup. It was excellent soup, but, after taking a bite -of a wafer, he laid his spoon on the edge of the plate. - -“I think I’ll drive you out of the house, Tod,” Mrs. Boyd decided, in -the same tones she had used to employ when she had sent him to bed. “I -think I’ll send you over to Sargent’s to-night, to sing with Gail.” - -The rector of the richest church in the world flushed a trifle, and -looked at the barley in the bottom of his soup. His mother regarded him -quietly, and the twinkles went out of her eyes. She had been bound to -get at the bottom of his irritability, and now she had arrived at it. - -“I would prefer not to go,” he told her stiffly, and the eyes which he -lifted to her were coldly green. - -“Why?” - -Again that slight twitch of impatience in his brows, then he suppressed -a sigh. The catechism was on the way, and he might just as well answer -up promptly. - -“I do not approve of Miss Sargent.” - -For just one second the rector’s mother felt an impulse to shake Tod -Boyd. Gail Sargent was a young lady of whom any young man might -approve—and what was the matter with Tod? She was beginning to be -humiliated by the fact that, at thirty-two, he had not lost his head and -made a fool of himself, to the point of tight shoes and poetry, over a -girl. - -“Why?” and the voice of Mrs. Boyd was not cold as she had meant it to -be. She had suddenly felt some tug of sympathy for Tod. - -“Well, for one thing, she has a most disagreeable lack of reverence,” he -stated. - -“Reverence?” and Mrs. Boyd knitted her brows. “I don’t believe you quite -understand her. She has the most beautifully simple religious faith that -I have ever seen, Tod.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd watched his soup disappearing, as if it were -some curious moving object to which his attention had just been called. - -“Miss Sargent claims to have a new religion,” he observed. “She has said -most unkind things about the Church as an institution, and about Market -Square Church in particular. She says that it is a strictly commercial -institution, and that its motive in desiring to build the new cathedral -is vanity.” - -He omitted to mention Gail’s further charge that his own motive in -desiring the new cathedral was personal ambition. Candour did not compel -that admission. It did not become him to act from piqued personal pride. - -Mrs. Boyd studied him as he gazed sombrely at his fish, and the twinkles -once more returned to her eyes, as she made up her mind to cure Tod’s -irritability. - -“I am ashamed of you,” she told her son. “This girl is scarcely twenty. -If I remember rightly, and I’m sure that I do, you came to me, at about -twenty, and confessed to a logical disbelief in the theory of creation, -which included, of course, a disbelief in the Creator. You were an -infidel, an atheist. You were going to relinquish your studies, and give -up all thought of the Church.” - -The deep red of the Reverend Smith Boyd’s face testified to the truth of -this cruel charge, and he pushed back his fish permanently. - -“I most humbly confess,” he stated, and indeed he had writhed in spirit -many times over that remembrance. “However, mother, I have since -discovered that to be a transitional stage through which every -theological student passes.” - -“Yet you won’t allow it to a girl,” charged Mrs. Boyd, with the severity -which she could much better have expressed with a laugh. “When you -discover that this young lady, who seems to be in every way delightful, -is so misled as to criticise the motives of Market Square Church, you -withdraw into your dignity, with the privilege of a layman, and announce -that ‘you do not approve of her.’ What she needs, Tod, is religious -instruction.” - -She had carefully ironed out the tiny little wrinkles around her blue -eyes by the time her son looked up from the profound cogitation into -which this reproof had thrown him. - -“Mother, I have been wrong,” he admitted, and he seemed ever so much -brighter for the confession. He drew his fish towards him and ate it. - -Later the Reverend Smith Boyd presented himself at James Sargent’s -house, with a new light shining in his breast; and he had blue eyes. He -had come to show Gail the way and the light. If she had doubts, and lack -of faith, and flippant irreverence, it was his duty to be patient with -her, for this was the fault of youth. He had been youthful himself. - -Gail’s eyelids dropped and the corners of her lips twitched when the -Reverend Smith Boyd’s name was brought up to her, but she did her hair -in another way, high on her head instead of low on her neck, and then -she went down, bewildering in her simple little dark blue velvet cut -round at the neck. - -“I am so glad your cold is better,” she greeted him, smiling as -pleasantly as if their last meeting had been a most joyous occasion. - -“I don’t think I had a cold,” laughed the young rector, also as happily -mannered as if their last meeting had been a cheerful one. “I sneezed -twice, I believe, and mother immediately gave me a course of doctoring -which no cold could resist.” - -“I was afraid that your voice was out,” remarked Gail, in a tone -suggestive of the fact that that would be a tragedy indeed; and she -began hauling forth music. “You haven’t been over for so long.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd coloured. At times the way of spiritual -instruction was quite difficult. Nevertheless, he had a duty to perform. -Mechanically he had taken his place at the piano, standing straight and -tall, and his blue eyes softened as they automatically fell on the piece -of music she had opened. Of course it was their favourite, the one in -which their voices had soared in the most perfect unison. Gail glanced -up at him as she brushed a purely imaginary fleck of dust from the keys. -For an instant the brown eyes and the blue ones met. He was a -tremendously nice fellow, after all. But what was worrying him? - -“Before we sing I should like to take up graver matters,” he began, -feeling at a tremendous disadvantage in the presence of the music. To -obviate this, he drew up a chair, and sat facing her. “I have called -this evening in the capacity of your temporary rector.” - -Gail’s eyelids had a tendency to flicker down, but she restrained them. -She was adorable when she looked prim that way. Her lips were like a -rosebud. The Reverend Smith Boyd himself thought of the simile, and cast -it behind him. - -“You are most kind,” she told him, suppressing the imps and demons which -struggled to pop into her eyes. - -“I have been greatly disturbed by the length to which your unbelief has -apparently gone,” the young rector went on, and having plunged into this -opening he began to breathe more freely. This was familiar ground. “I am -willing to admit, to one of your intelligence, that there are certain -articles of the creed, and certain tenets of the Church, which humanity -has outgrown, as a child outgrows its fear of the dark.” - -Gail rested a palm on the edge of the bench behind her, and leaned back -facing him, supported on one beautifully modelled arm. Her face had set -seriously now. - -“However,” went on the rector, “it is the habit and the privilege of -youth to run to extremes. Sweeping doubt takes the place of reasonable -criticism, and the much which is good is condemned alike with the little -which has grown useless.” - -He paused to give Gail a chance for reply, but that straight-eyed young -lady had nothing to say, at this juncture. - -“I do not expect to be able to remove the spiritual errors, which I am -compelled to judge that you have accumulated, by any other means than -patient logic,” he resumed. “May I discuss these matters with you?” His -voice was grave and serious, and full of earnest sincerity, and the -musical quality alone of it made patient logical discussion seem -attractive. - -“If you like,” she assented, smiling at him with wileful and wilful -deception. The wicked thought had occurred to her that it might be her -own duty to broaden his spiritual understanding. - -“Thank you,” he accepted gravely. “If you will give me an hour or so -each week, I shall be very happy.” - -“I am nearly always at home on Tuesday and Friday evenings,” suggested -Gail. “Scarcely any one calls before eight thirty, and we have dinner -quite early on those evenings.” She began to be sincerely interested in -the project. She had never given herself time to quite exactly define -her own attitude towards theology as distinct from religion, and she -felt that she should do it, if for no other reason than to avoid making -impulsive over-statements. The Reverend Smith Boyd would help her to -look squarely into her own mind and her own soul, for he had a very -active intelligence, and was, moreover, the most humanly forceful cleric -she had ever met. Besides, they could always finish by singing. - -“I shall make arrangements to be over as early as you will permit,” -declared the rector, warmly aglow with the idea. “We shall begin with -the very beginnings of things, and, step by step, develop, I hope, a -logical justification of the vast spiritual revolution which has -conquered the world.” - -“I should like nothing better,” mused Gail, and since the Reverend Smith -Boyd rose, and stood behind her and filled his lungs, she turned to the -piano and struck a preliminary chord, which she trailed off into a -tinkling little run, by way of friendly greeting to the piano. - -“We shall begin with the creation,” pursued the rector, dwelling, with -pleasure, on the idea of a thorough progress through the mazes of -religious growth. There were certain vague points which he wanted to -clear up for himself. - -“And wind up with Vedder Court.” She had not meant to say that. It just -popped into her mind, and popped off the end of her tongue. - -“Even that will be taken up in its due logical sequence,” and the -Reverend Smith Boyd prided himself on having already displayed the -patience which he had come expressly to exercise. - -Gail was immediately aware that he was exercising patience. He had -reproved her, nevertheless, and quite coldly, for having violated the -tacit agreement to take up the different phases of their weighty topic -only “in their due logic sequence.” The rector, in this emergency, would -have found no answer which would stand the test, but Gail had the -immense advantage of femininity. - -“It altogether depends at which end we start our sequence,” she sweetly -reminded him. “My own impression is that we should begin at Vedder Court -and work back to the creation. Vedder Court needs immediate attention.” - -That was quite sufficient. When Allison called, twenty minutes later, -they were at it hammer and tongs. There was a bright red spot in each of -Gail’s cheeks, and the Reverend Smith Boyd’s cold eyes were distinctly -green! Allison had been duly announced, but the combatants merely -glanced at him, and finished the few remarks upon which they were, at -the moment, engaged. He had been studying the tableau with the interest -of a connoisseur, and he had devoted his more earnest attention to the -Reverend Smith Boyd. - -“So glad to see you,” said Gail conventionally, rising and offering him -her hand. If there was that strange thrill in his clasp, she was not -aware of it. - -“I only ran in to see if you’d like to take a private car trip in the -new subway before it is opened,” offered Allison, turning to shake hands -with the Reverend Smith Boyd. “Will you join us, Doctor?” - -For some reason a new sort of jangle had come into the room, and it -affected the three of them. Allison was the only one who did not notice -that he had taken Gail’s acceptance for granted. - -“You might tell us when,” she observed, transferring the flame of her -eyes from the rector to Allison. “I may have conflicting engagements.” - -“No, you won’t,” Allison cheerfully informed her; “because it will be at -any hour you set.” - -“Oh,” was the weak response, and, recognising that she was fairly -beaten, her white teeth flashed at him in a smile of humour. “Suppose we -say ten o’clock to-morrow morning.” - -“I am free at that hour,” stated Doctor Boyd, in answer to a glance of -inquiry from Allison. He felt it his duty to keep in touch with public -improvements. Also, beneath his duty lay a keen pleasure in the task. - -“You’ll be very much interested, I think,” and Allison glowed with the -ever-present pride of achievement, then he suddenly grinned. “The new -subway stops at the edge of Vedder Court, waiting.” - -There was another little pause of embarrassment, in which Gail and the -Reverend Smith Boyd were very careful not to glance at each other. -Unfortunately, however, the Reverend Smith Boyd was luckless enough to -automatically, and without conscious mental process, fold the sheet of -music which had long since been placed on the piano. - -“Why stop at the edge of Vedder Court?” inquired Gail, with a nervous -little jerk, much as if the words had been jolted out of her by the -awkward slam of the music rack, which had succeeded the removal of the -song. “Why not go straight on through, and demolish Vedder Court? It is -a scandal and a disgrace to civilisation, and to the city, as well as to -its present proprietors! Vedder Court should be annihilated, torn down, -burned up, swept from the face of the earth! The board of health should -condemn it as unsanitary, the building commission should condemn it as -unsafe, the department of public morals should condemn it as -unwholesome!” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd had been engaged in a strong wrestle within -himself, but the spirit finally conquered the flesh, and he held his -tongue. He remembered that Gail was young, and youth was prone to -extravagant impulse. His spirit of forbearance came so strongly to his -aid that he was even able to acknowledge how beautiful she was when she -was stiffened. - -Allison had been viewing her with mingled admiration and respect. - -“By George, that’s a great idea,” he thoughtfully commented. “Gail, I -think I’ll tear down Vedder Court for you!” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST - - -A short, thick old man, grey-bearded and puff-eyed and loaded with -enormous jewels, met Gail, Lucile and Arly, Ted Teasdale and the -Reverend Smith Boyd, at the foot of the subway stairs, and introduced -himself with smiling ease as Tim Corman, beaming with much pride in his -wide-spread fame. - -“Mr. Allison sent me to meet you,” he stated, with a bow on which he -justly prided himself. “Allison played a low trick on me, ladies,” and -he gazed on them in turns with a jovial familiarity, which, in another, -they might have resented. “From the description he gave me, I was -looking for the most beautiful young lady in the world, and here there’s -three of you.” His eyes swelled completely shut when he laughed. “So -you’ll have to help me out. Which one of you is Miss Sargent?” - -“The young lady who answers the description,” smiled Arly, delighted -with Tim Corman, and she indicated Gail. - -“Mr. Allison couldn’t be here,” explained Tim, leading the way to the -brightly lighted private car. “We’re to pick him up at Hoadley Park. -Miss Sargent, as hostess of the party, is to have charge of everything.” - -The side doors slid open as they approached, and they entered the -carpeted and draped car, furnished with wicker chairs and a well-stocked -buffet. In the forward compartment were three responsible looking men -and a motorman, and one of the responsibles, a fat gentleman who did not -seem to care how his clothes looked, leaned into the parlour. - -“All ready?” he inquired, with an air of concealing a secret impression -that women had no business here. - -Tim Corman, who had carefully seen to it that he had a seat between Gail -and Arly, touched Gail on the glove. - -“Ready, thank you,” she replied, glancing brightly at the loosely -arrayed fat man, and she could see that immediately a portion of that -secret impression was removed. - -With an easy glide, which increased with surprising rapidity into -express speed, the car slid into the long, glistening tunnel, still -moist with the odours of building. - -“This is the most stunningly exclusive thing in the world!” exclaimed -Lucile Teasdale. “A private subway!” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd bent forward. All the way down to the subway -entrance he had enjoyed the reversal to that golden age where no one -says anything and everybody laughs at it. - -“To my mind that is not the greatest novelty,” he observed. “The most -enjoyable part of the journey so far has been getting into the subway -without paying a nickel.” He glanced over at Gail as he spoke, but only -Arly, Lucile and Ted laughed. Tim Corman had adroitly blocked Gail into -a corner, and was holding her attention. - -“Ed Allison’s one of the smartest boys in New York,” he enthusiastically -declared. “Did you ever see anybody as busy as he is?” - -“He seems to be a very energetic man,” Gail assented, with a sudden -remembrance of how busy Allison had always been. - -“Gets anything he goes after,” Tim informed her, and screwed one of his -many-puffed eyes into a wink; at which significant action Gail looked -out at the motorman. “Never tells his plans to anybody, nor what he -wants. Just goes and gets it.” - -“That’s a successful way, I should judge,” she responded, now able to -see the humour of Tim Corman’s volunteer mission, but a red spot -beginning to dawn, nevertheless, in either cheek. - -“Well, he’s square,” asserted Tim judicially. “Understand, he don’t care -how he gets a thing just so he gets it, but if he makes you a promise -he’ll keep it. That’s what I call square.” - -Gail nodded. She had discerned that quality in Allison. - -“What I like about him is that he always wins,” went on Tim. “Nobody in -this town has ever passed him the prunes. Do you know what he did? He -started with two miles of rust and four horse cars, and now he owns the -whole works.” - -Gail knitted her brows. She had heard something of this marvellous tale -before, and it had interested her. She had been groping for an -explanation of Allison’s tremendous force. - -“That was a wonderful achievement. How did he accomplish it?” - -“Made ’em get off and walk!” boasted Tim, with vast pride in the fact. -“Any time Eddie run across a man that had a street car line, he choked -it out of him. He’s a wizard.” - -Tim’s statement seemed to be somewhat clouded in metaphor, but Gail -managed to gather that Allison had possibly used first-principle methods -on his royal pathway to success. - -“You mean that he drove them out of business.” - -“Pushed ’em off!” and Tim’s voice was exultant. - -“I don’t think I understand business,” worried Gail. “It seems so -cruel.” - -“So is baseball, if you want to figure that it’s a shame the losers have -to take a licking,” chuckled Tim. “Anybody Allison likes is lucky,” and -with the friendly familiarity of an old man, Tim Corman patted Gail on -the glove. - -“It occurs to me that I’m neglecting my opportunities,” observed Gail, -rising. “I’m supposed to be running this car,” and going to the glass -door she looked into the motorman’s compartment, which was large, and -had seats in it, and all sorts of mysterious tools and appliances in the -middle of the floor. - -Tim Corman, as Allison’s personal representative, was right on the spot. - -“Come on out,” he invited, and opened the door, whereupon the three -responsible looking men immediately arose. - -Gail hesitated, then smiled. She turned to look at the others, half -wondering if she should invite them to come, and whether a crowd would -be welcomed, but the quartette were gathered on the observation -platform, watching the tunnel swallowing itself in a faraway point. - -“Mr. Greggory, general manager of the Municipal Transportation Company, -Miss Sargent,” introduced Tim, and the fat man bowed, with still another -portion of that secret opinion removed. “Mr. Lincoln, general engineer -of the Transportation Company, Miss Sargent,” and the thin-faced man -with the high forehead and the little French moustache, bowed, smiling -his decided approval. “Mr. McCarthy, general construction manager of the -Transportation Company, Miss Sargent,” and the red-faced man with the -big red moustache, bowed, grinning. Tim Corman led Gail forward to the -motorman, and tapped him on the shoulder. “Show her how it works, Tom,” -he directed. - -So it was that Edward E. Allison, standing quite alone on the platform -of the Hoadley Park station, saw the approaching trial trip car stop, -and run slowly, and run backwards, and dart forwards, and perform all -sorts of experimental movements, before it rushed down to his platform, -with a rosy-cheeked girl standing at the wheel, her brown eyes -sparkling, her red lips parted in a smile of ecstatic happiness, her hat -off and her waving brown hair flowing behind her in the sweep of the -wind. To one side stood a highly pleased motorman, while a short, thick -old man, and a careless fat man, and a man with a high forehead and one -with a red moustache, all smiling indulgently, clogged the space in the -rear. - -Allison boarded the car, and greeted his guests, and came straight -through to the motorman’s cage, as Gail, in response to the clang of the -bell, pulled the lever. She was just getting that easy starting glide, -and she was filled with pride in the fact. - -“You should not stand bare-headed in front of that window,” greeted -Allison, almost roughly; and he closed it. - -Gail turned very sweetly to the motorman. - -“Thank you,” she said, and gave him the lever, then she walked back into -the car. It had required some repression to avoid recognising that -dictatorial attitude, and Allison felt that she was rather distant, and -wondered what was the matter; but he was a practical minded person, and -he felt that it would soon blow over. - -“This is the deepest line in the city,” he informed her, as she led the -way back to the group in the parlour division. “Every subway we build -presents more difficult problems of construction because of the -crossings.” - -“I should think it would be most difficult,” she indifferently -responded, and hurried back to the girls. - -“I feel horribly selfish,” she confessed, slipping her arm around Lucile -on one side and Arly on the other; and the Reverend Smith Boyd, -strangely inclined to poetry these days, compared them to the Three -Graces, with Hope in the centre. They were an attractive picture for the -looking of any man; the blonde Lucile, the brown Gail, and the -black-haired Arly, all fresh-cheeked, slender, and sparkling of eye. - -“I’m glad your conscience smites you,” smiled Arly. “Wasn’t it fun?” - -“The most glorious in the world!” and Gail glanced doubtfully at Tim -Corman, who was right on the spot. - -“Come on, girls,” heartily invited Tim, who could catch a hint as fast -as any man. “I’ll introduce you to Tom,” and, profoundly happy in his -gallantry, he returned to the front of the car with a laughing blonde on -one arm and a laughing brunette on the other. - -Allison turned confidently to chat with Gail, but that young lady, -smiling on the Reverend Smith Boyd, moved back to the observation -platform, and the Reverend Smith Boyd followed the smile with alacrity. - -“I’ve been neglecting this view,” she observed, gazing out into the -rapidly diminishing perspective, then she glanced up sidewise at the -tall young rector, whose eyes were perfectly blue. - -He answered something or other, and the conversation was so obviously a -tête-à-tête that Allison remained behind. Ted Teasdale had long since -found, in the engineer, a man who knew motor boating in every phase of -its failures; so that Allison and Tim Corman were in sole possession of -the parlour compartment, and Tim looked up at Allison with a complacent -grin, as the latter sat beside him. - -“Well, Eddie, I put in a plug for you,” stated Tim, with the air of one -looking for approval. - -“How’s that?” inquired Allison, abstractedly. - -“Boosted you to the girl. Say, she’s a peach!” - -Allison looked quickly back at the platform, and then frowned down on -his zealous friend Tim. - -“What did you tell Miss Sargent about me?” - -“Don’t you worry, Eddie; it’s all right,” laughed Tim. “I hinted to her, -so that she had to get it, that you’re about the most eligible party in -New York. I let her know that no man in this village had ever skinned -you. She wanted to know how you made this big combination, and I told -her you made ’em all get off; pushed ’em off the map. Take it from me, -Eddie, after I got through, she knew where to find a happy home.” - -Allison’s brows knitted in quick anger, and then suddenly he startled -the subway with its first loud laugh. He understood now, or thought he -did, Gail’s distant attitude; but, knowing what was the matter, he could -easily straighten it out. - -“Thanks, Tim,” he chuckled. “Let’s talk business a minute. I had you -hold up the Vedder Court condemnation because I got a new idea last -night. Those buildings are unsafe.” - -“Well, the building commissioners have to make a living,” considered -Tim. - -“That’s what I think,” agreed Allison. - -Tim Corman looked up at him shrewdly out of his puffy slits of eyes, for -a moment, and considered. - -“I get you,” he said, and the business talk being concluded, Allison -went forward. - -“McCarthy,” he snapped, in a voice which grated; “what are all those -boxes back in the beginning of the ‘Y’ of the West Docks branch?” - -“Blasting material,” and McCarthy looked uncomfortable. - -“Get it out,” ordered Allison, and returned to Tim. - -The girls and Ted came back presently, and, with their arrival, Gail -brought the Reverend Smith Boyd into the crowd, thereupon they resolved -themselves into some appearance of sociability, and Allison, for the -amusement of the company, slyly started old Tim Corman into a line of -personal reminiscences, so replete in unconscious humour and so frank in -unconscious disclosure of callous knavery, that the company needed no -other entertainment. - -Out into the open, where the sun paled the electric lights of the car -into a sickly yellow, up into the air, peering into third story -tenements and down narrow alleys, aflutter with countless flapping -pieces of laundry work, then suddenly into the darkness of the tunnel -again, then out, on the surface of country fields, and dreary winter -landscape, to the terminal. It was more cosy in the tunnel, and they -returned there for lunch, while the general manager and the general -engineer and the general construction manager of the Municipal -Transportation Company, with occasional crisp visits from President -Allison, soberly discussed the condition of the line. The Reverend Smith -Boyd displayed an unexpected technical interest in that subject. He had -taken an engineering course in college, and, in fact, he had once -wavered seriously between that occupation and the Church, and he put two -or three questions so pertinent that he awakened a new respect in -Allison. Allison took the rector to the observation platform to explain -something in the construction of the receding tunnel, and as they stood -there earnestly talking, with concentrated brows and eyes searching into -each other for quick understanding, Gail Sargent was suddenly struck by -a wonder as to what makes the differences in men. Allison, slightly -stocky, standing with his feet spread sturdily apart and his hands in -his coat pockets, and his clean-cut profile slightly upturned to the -young rector, was the very epitome of force, of decisive action, of -unconquerable will. He seemed to fairly radiate resistless energy, and -as she looked, Gail was filled with the admiration she had often felt -for this exponent of the distinctively American spirit of achievement. -She had never seen the type in so perfect an example, and again there -seemed to wave toward her that indefinable thrill with which he had so -often impressed her. Was the thrill altogether pleasurable? She could -not tell, but she did know that with it there was mixed a something -which she could not quite fathom in herself. Was it dislike? No, not -that. Was it resentment? Was it fear? She asked herself that last -question again. - -The young rector was vastly different; taller and broader-shouldered, -and more erect of carriage, and fully as firm of profile, he did not -somehow seem to impress her with the strength of Allison. He was more -temperamental, and, consequently, more susceptible to change; therefore -weaker. Was that deduction correct? She wondered, for it troubled her. -She was not quite satisfied. - -Suddenly there came a dull, muffled report, like the distant firing of a -cannon; then an interval of silence, an infinitesimal one, in which the -car ran smoothly on, and, half rising, they looked at each other in -startled questioning. Then, all at once, came a stupendous roar, as if -the world had split asunder, a jolting and jerking, a headlong stoppage, -a clattering, and slapping and crashing and grinding, deafening in its -volume, and with it all, darkness; blackness so intense that it seemed -almost palpable to the touch! - -There was a single shriek, and a nervous laugh verging on hysteria. The -shriek was from Arly, and the laugh from Lucile. There was a cry from -the forward end of the car, as if some one in pain. A man’s yell of -fright; Greggory the general manager. A strong hand clutched Gail’s in -the darkness, firm, reassuring. The rector. - -“Don’t move!” it was the voice of Allison, crisp, harsh, commanding. - -“Anybody hurt?” Tim Corman, the voice of age, but otherwise steady. One -could sense, somehow, that he sat rigid in his chair, with both hands on -his cane. - -“It’s me,” called Tom, the motorman. “Head cut a little, arm bruised. -Nothing bad.” - -“Gail?” Allison again. - -“Yes.” Clear voiced, with the courage which has no sex. - -“Mrs. Teasdale? Mrs. Fosland?” - -Both all right, one a trifle sharp of voice, the other nervous. - -“Ted? Doctor Boyd?” and so through the list. Everybody safe. - -“It is an accidental blast,” said the voice of Allison. He had figured -that a concise statement of just what had happened might expedite -organisation. “We are below the Farmount Ridge, over a hundred feet -deep, and the tube has caved in on us. There must be no waste of -exertion. Don’t move until I find what electrical dangers there are.” - -They obeyed his admonition not to move, even to the extent of silence; -for there was an instinct that Allison might need to hear minutely. He -made his way into the front compartment, he called the chief engineer. -There was a clanking of the strange looking implements on the floor of -the car. A match flared up, and showed the pale face of the engineer -bending over. - -“No matches,” ordered Allison. “We may need the oxygen.” - -He and the engineer made their way back into the parlour compartment. -They took up the door of the motor well in the floor, and in a few -minutes they replaced it. From the sounds they seemed remarkably clumsy. - -“That much is lucky,” commented Allison. “The next thing is to dig.” - -They were quiet a moment. - -“In front or behind?” wondered the engineer. - -Again a pause. - -“In front,” decided Allison. “The explosion came from that direction, -and has probably shaken down more of the soil there than behind, but -it’s solid clay in the rear, and further out.” - -Gail felt the rector’s hand suddenly leave her own. It had been -wonderfully comforting there in the dark; so firm and warm and steady. -He had not talked much to her, just a few reassuring words, in that low, -melodious voice, which thrilled her as did occasionally the touch of -Allison’s hand, as did the eyes of Dick Rodley. But she had received -more strength from the voice of Allison. He was big, Allison, a power, a -force, a spirit of command. She began, for the first time, to comprehend -his magnitude. - -“What have we to dig with?” The voice of the Reverend Smith Boyd, and -there was a note of eagerness in it. - -“The benches up in front here,” yelled McCarthy, and there was a ripping -sound as he tore the seat from one of them. - -“Pardon me.” It was the voice of the rector, up in front. - -“The balance of you sit down, and keep rested,” ordered Allison, now -also up in front. “McCarthy, Boyd and I go first.” - -The long struggle began. The girls grouped together in the back of the -car, moving but very little, for there was much broken glass about. Up -in front the three men could be heard making an opening into the débris -through the forward windows. They talked a great deal, at first, strong, -capable voices. They were interfering with each other, then helping, -combining their strength to move heavy stones and the like, then they -were silent, working independently, or in effective unison. - -Tim Corman was the possessor of a phosphorescent-faced watch, with -twenty-two jewels on the inside and a ruby on the winding stem, and he -constituted himself timekeeper. - -“Thirty minutes,” he called out. “It’s our shift.” - -“You’d better save yourself, Tim,” suggested Greggory, in a kindly tone. - -“I’ll do as much as any of you!” growled old Tim, with the will, if not -the quality, of youth in his voice. “Will one of you girls take care of -my rings?” and stripping them from his fingers, he laid them carefully -in the outstretched hands of Arly. There was a good handful of them. - -The men crawled in from outside, but they stayed in the front -compartment. The air was growing a trifle close, and they breathed -heavily. - -“Good-bye Girl,” called the gaily funereal voice of Ted Teasdale. -“Husband is going to work.” - -“Put on your gloves,” Lucile reminded him. - -“Greggory,” called Allison. - -“Here,” responded the careless fat man. “How did you find it?” - -“Loose,” reported Allison, and there was a sound suspiciously like -grunting, as Greggory crawled through the narrow opening. - -Another interminable wait, while the air grew more stifling. There was -no further levity after Lincoln and the motorman and McCarthy had come -back; for the condition was becoming serious. Some air must undoubtedly -be finding its way to the car through the loose débris, but the carbonic -acid gas exhaled from a dozen pairs of lungs was beginning to pocket, -and the opening ahead, though steadily pushing forward, displayed no -signs of lessening solidity. - -They established shorter shifts now; a quarter of an hour. The men came -silently in and out, and as silently worked, and as silently rested, -while the girls carried that heavy burden of women’s hardest labour; -waiting! - -Greggory was the first to give out, then the injured motorman. When -their turns came, they had not the strength nor the air in their lungs. -Strong McCarthy was the next to join them. - -The shifts had reduced to two, of two men each by now; Ted and old Tim, -and Allison and the rector; and these latter two worked double time. -Their lips and their tongues were parched and cracking, and in their -periods of rest they sat motionlessly facing each other, with a wheeze -in the drawing of their breath. Their stentorian breathing could be -heard from the forward end of their little tunnel clear back into the -car, where the three girls were battling to preserve their senses -against the poisonous gases which were now all that they had to breathe. -Acting on the rector’s advice, they had stood up in the car to escape -the gradually rising level of the carbonic gas, stood, as the time -progressed, with their mouths agape and their breasts heaving and sharp -pains in their lungs at every breath. Arly dropped, silently crumpling -to the floor; then, a few minutes later, Lucile, and, panic-stricken by -the thought that they had gone under, Gail felt her own senses reeling, -when suddenly, looking ahead through eyes which were staring, she saw a -crack of blessed light! - -There was a hoarse cry from ahead! The crack of light widened. Another -one appeared, some four feet to the right of it, and Gail already -fancied that she could feel a freshening of the air she breathed with -such tearing pain. Against the light of the openings, two figures, the -only two which were left to work, strove, at first with the slow, limp -motions of exhaustion, and then with the renewed vigour of approaching -triumph. She could distinguish them clearly now, by the light which -streamed in, the stocky, strong figure of Allison and the tall, sinewy -figure of the rector. They were working frantically, Allison with his -coat off, and the rector with his coat and vest both removed, and one -sleeve torn almost entirely from his shirt, revealing his swelling -biceps, and a long, red scratch. Gail’s senses were numbed, so that they -were reduced to almost merely optical consciousness, so that she saw -things photographically; but, even in her numbness, she realised that -what she had thought a trace of weakness in the rector, was only the -grace which had rounded his strength. - -The two figures bent inward toward each other. There was a moment of -mighty straining, and then the whole centre between the two cracks -rolled away. A huge boulder had barred the path, and its removal let -down a rush of pure, fresh air from the ground above, let down, too, a -flood of dazzling light; and in the curving, under-rim of the opening, -stood the two stalwart men who were the survival of the fittest! The -mere instinct of self-preservation drove Gail forward, with a cry, -toward the source of that life-giving air, and she scrambled through the -window and ran toward the two men. They came hurriedly down to meet her, -and each gave her a hand. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - THE FREE AND ENTIRELY UNCURBED - - -Gail Sargent became suddenly and acutely aware of an entirely new and -ethnological subdivision of the human race. She had known of Caucasians, -Mongolians, Ethiopians, and the others, but now she was to meet the -representatives of the gay, carefree, and entirely uncurbed metropolitan -press! They figuratively swarmed from the ground, dropped from the -eaves, and wriggled from under the rugs! - -Immediately after Gail had reached home from the accident in the subway, -and had been put to bed and given tea, and had repeatedly assured the -doctor there was nothing the matter with her, they brought, at her -urgent request, copies of the “extras,” which were already being yelled -from every street corner and down every quiet residence block. - -The accounts were, in the main, more or less accurate, barring the fact -that they started with the assumption that there had been one hundred in -Allison’s party, all killed. Later issues, however, regretfully reduced -the number of dead to forty, six, and finally none, at which point they -became more or less coherent, and gave an exact list of the people who -were there, the cause of the accident, and a most appreciatively -accentuated history of the heroic work of the men. Although she -regretted that her picture had by this time crept into the public -prints, grouped with the murders and defalcations of the day, she was -able to overlook this personal discomfort as one of the minor penalties -which civilisation has paid for its progress; like electric light bugs -and electric fan neuralgia, and the smell of gasolene. - -Long before this period, however, the reporters had tracked her to her -lair; so long before, in fact, that there had been three of them waiting -on the doorstep when she was brought into the house, eager young men, -with a high spirit of reverence and delicacy, which was concentrated -entirely on their jobs. They would have held her on the doorstep until -she fainted or dropped dead, if, by so doing, they could have secured -one statement, or hint of a statement, upon which they could have -fastened something derogatory to her reputation, or the reputation of -any of her family or friends; for that was great stuff, and what the -public wanted; and they would have photographed her gleefully in the -process of expiring. Aunt Helen Davies, being a woman of experience, -snatched Gail into the house before they had taken more than eight or -nine photographs of her, but, from that instant, the doorbell became a -nuisance and the telephone bell a torture! Both were finally -disconnected, but, at as late an hour as one A.M., the house was -occasionally assaulted. - -By that time Gail had telegrams of frantic inquiry from all her friends -back home, including the impulsive Clemmens, and particularly including -a telegram from her mother, stating that that highly agitated lady could -not secure a reservation on the first train on account of its being -Saturday night, but that she would start on the fast eleven-thirty the -next morning, whereat Gail kissed the telegram, and cried a little, and -gave way to the moist joy of homesickness. - -In the meantime, the representatives of the gay and carefree and -absolutely uncurbed metropolitan press, were by no means discouraged by -the fact that they had not been able to secure much, except hectic -imaginings from the exterior of the Sargent house. They were busy in -every other possible direction, with the same commendable persistence -which we observe in an ant trying to drag a grasshopper up and down a -cornstalk on the way home. They secured a straight story from Allison, a -modest one from the rector, and variously viewed experiences from other -male members of the party, and collected huge piles of photographs, -among them the charming pictures of Gail, which had previously been -printed on the innocent pages of arrivals at Palm Beach and the Riviera -and other fashionable winter resorts, the whole spread being headed -“What Society Is Doing.” - -So far the explosion editors of the various papers had seen nothing to -particularly commend in the work of their fevered emissaries, and even -the heavy-jawed genius who gathered, from silent cogitation over four -cigarettes and a quart of beer, the purple fiction that the explosion -had cracked the walls of every subway in the city, which were likely to -cave in at any time, only received the compliment of a grateful grunt. - -Little Miss Piper, of the _Morning Planet_, however, was possessed of a -better thought. She was a somewhat withered and puckered little woman, -who had sense enough to dress so as to excite nothing but pity, and she -quietly slipped on her ugly little bonnet with the funny ribbon bow in -the back, and hurried out to the magnificent residence of Mrs. Phyllis -Worthmore, who loathed publicity and had photographs taken once a month -for the purpose. - -Mrs. Phyllis Worthmore was invariably sweet and gracious to working -women, for, after all, they were her sisters, you know; and she excused -herself from a caller in order to meet little Miss Piper in Mr. -Worthmore’s deserted den. Mrs. Worthmore was highly agitated over the -news of the explosion, and she required no particular urging to jabber -on and on about her dear friends who had been in that terrible -catastrophe, and she was ultra enthusiastic when the name of Gail was -mentioned. - -“Oh, Miss Sargent is quite the sensation of the season!” she gushed. -“Her people are fairly well to do, I believe; but her beauty makes up -for the absence of any extravagant fortune. It is commonly conceded that -none of the eligibles in our set are available until Miss Sargent has -made her choice. Positively all of them are at her feet!” and, at -puckered little Miss Piper’s later request, she lightly enumerated a few -of the eligibles in their set; after which Miss Piper took to furtive -glances at her watch, and to feeling the excessively modulated voice of -Mrs. Phyllis Worthmore pounding into her brain like the clatter of a -watchman’s rattle. - -The result of that light-hearted and light-headed interview, in which -Mrs. Phyllis Worthmore, by special request, was not quoted, suddenly -sprang on the startled eyes of Gail, when she leaped through the _Sunday -Morning Planet_ at eight o’clock next morning. An entire page, -embellished in the centre with a beautifully printed photograph, was -devoted to the sensational beauty from the middle-west! Around her were -grouped nine smaller photographs; Allison, Dick Rodley, Willis -Cunningham, Houston Van Ploon, the Reverend Smith Boyd, a callow youth -who had danced with her three times, a Count who had said “How do you -do?” and sailed for Europe, and two men whom she had never met. All -these crack eligibles were classified under the general head of “Slaves -to Her Witching Smile,” and a big, boxed-in list was given, in extremely -black-faced type, stating, in dollars and cents, the exact value in the -matrimonial market of each slave; and the lively genius who had put -together this symposium, by a toweringly happy thought conceived in the -very height of the rush hours, totalled the whole, and gave it as the -commercial worth of Gail’s beauty and charm. It ran into thirteen -figures, including the dollar mark and the two ciphers for cents. - -Nor was this all! A lightning fingered artist had depicted, at the -bottom of the group, outline sketches of the nine suitors, on their -knees in a row, holding up, towards the beautiful picture of Gail in the -centre, their hearts in one hand and their bags of money in the other; -and, even though overworked, the artist had not forgotten to put the -Cross of the Legion of Honour on the breast of the Count, nor the sparse -Van Dyke on Willis Cunningham. Flowing with further facile fancy, he had -embellished the upper right-hand corner of the group with an extremely -lithe and slim-waisted drawing of the streaming haired Gail, as a siren -fishing in the sea; and the sea, represented by many frothing curls, -was, in the upper left-hand corner, densely populated by foolish little -gold fish, rushing eagerly to the dangling bait of the siren. Any one of -the parties mentioned could have sued the _Planet_ for libel; but they -would not, and they would have been made highly ridiculous if they had, -which was the joke of the whole matter, and left the metropolitan press -more and more highly uncurbed; which was a right sturdily to be -maintained in a land of free speech! - -When Lucile Teasdale and Arly Fosland arrived at Jim Sargent’s house at -ten o’clock, and had been let in at the side entrance, they found Gail -dabbing her eyes with a powder puff, taken from a little black -travelling bag which stood open at her side. Arlene was a second later -than Lucile in clasping Gail in her arms, because she had to lift a -travelling veil. The two girls expressed their condolence and their -horror of the outrage, and volubly poured out more sympathy; then they -sat down and shrieked with laughter. - -“It’s too awful for words!” gasped Lucile. “But it is funny, too.” - -Gail’s chin quivered. - -“There should be a law against such things,” she broken-heartedly -returned, in a voice which wavered and halted with the echoes of recent -sobs. - -“I’ll put the _Planet_ out of business!” stormed Jim Sargent, stalking -up and down the library, with his fists clenched and his face purple. -“I’ll bankrupt them!” and he paused, as he passed, to reassuringly pat -the shoulder of poor Aunt Grace, who sat perfectly numb holding one -thumb until the bone ached. Her eyes were frankly red, and the creases -of worry had set into her brow so deeply that they must have scarred her -skull. “I’ll hunt up the whelp who wrote that stuff, and the cur who -drew it, and the dog who inserted it!” frothed the raging Jim. “I’ll—” - -“The press is the palladium of our national liberty, Uncle Jim,” drawled -the soothing voice of Ted. - -“You can’t do a thing about it,” counselled Gerald Fosland, a stiff -looking gentleman who never made a mistake of speech, or manner, or -attire. - -“Shucks, Gail!” suddenly remembered Lucile. “The big Faulker reception -is this week, and your gown was to be so stunning. Don’t go home!” - -Mrs. Helen Davies cast on her feather-brained daughter a glance of -severe reproof. - -“Have you no sense of propriety, Lucile?” she warned. “Gail, very -naturally, can not remain here under the circumstances. It does great -credit to her that, immediately upon realising this horrible occurrence, -she telegraphed to her mother, without consulting any of us, that she -was returning.” - -“I just wanted to go home,” said Gail, her chin quivering and her pretty -throat tremulous with breath pent from sobbing. - -“It’ll all blow over, Gail,” argued Uncle Jim, in deep distress because -she was going so soon. If she had only stopped long enough to pack up, -they might have persuaded her to stay. “Just forget it, and have a good -time.” - -“Jim,” ordered the stern voice of Aunt Helen, “will you be kind enough -to see if any one is out in front?” - -“Certainly,” agreed Jim, wondering why his wife’s sister was suddenly so -severe with him. - -“It’s time to start,” called Ted, with practised wisdom allowing ten -minutes for good-byes, parting instructions, and forgotten messages. - -The adieus were said. Aunt Grace, clasping Gail in her arms, began to -sob, out of a full heart and a general need for the exercise. Gerald -Fosland took the hand of his wife and kissed it, in most gallant -fashion. - -“I shall miss you dreadfully, my dear,” he stated. - -“I shall be thinking of you,” responded Arlene, adjusting her veil. - -Mrs. Davies drew Arlene into the drawing room. - -“It was so sweet of you to agree to accompany Gail,” she observed. “It -would be useless to attempt to influence her now, but I look to you to -bring her back in a week. Her prospects are really too brilliant to be -interrupted by an unfortunate episode of this nature.” - - - - - CHAPTER XV - BUT WHY WAS SHE LONESOME? - - -Everybody was at the depot to meet Gail; just everybody in the world! It -was midnight when the train rolled in, and, as she came toward the gate, -the faces outside, with the high station lights beaming down upon their -eagerness, were like a flashing dream of all the faces she had ever -loved. Of course there was her mother, a little stiff, a little sedate, -a little reserved, but, under her calm exterior, fluttering with a flood -of pent-up emotion. There was her father, a particularly twinkling-eyed -gentleman, a somewhat thinner, somewhat older, somewhat neater edition -of Uncle Jim, and he had, of all things, her favourite collie, Taffy, -perched high on his shoulder! It was from her father that Gail had her -vivacity and from her mother her faculty of introspection. Dazed by the -unexpected delight, and the pain, too, of seeing all these dear old -faces, she was for picking them out in detail, when Taffy made a blur of -them. Taffy, suddenly recognising his playfellow in the throng, first -deafened Miles Sargent with a series of welcoming barks, and then began -climbing up his back. Sargent, always gifted with the capacity for -over-estimating his own powers, a quality which had permitted his -brother Jim to slightly outrun him in the game of life, had fondly hoped -that he could restrain Taffy by the firm hold of the forepaws over his -shoulder; but collies are endowed with a separate set of muscles for -wriggling purposes alone, and the first thing Miles Sargent knew, Taffy -had crawled right over him, and had kicked off from his cravat, and had -shot straight through the outcoming throng, a flash of yelping brown and -white, brushing over a woman with a basket, and landing against Gail -with the force of all his lively affection. - -That was only the beginning of the impetuosity with which she was -received at home. She had never realised that she had quite so many -friends, and even the people in the street seemed familiar, as she was -bundled out to the car, with Arly smiling steadfastly in the background -and remembered only at intervals. They looked more substantial and -earnest and sincere and friendly, these people, than the ones with whom -she had been recently associated. They were more polished in New York, -more sure of themselves, more indifferent to the great mass of their -fellow humanity, but here one could be trustful. It was so good to be -home! - -Of course Howard was there, just the same old Howard, and he bustled up -to her with the same old air of proprietorship, quite as if nothing had -ever happened to disturb their relations. It was he who took her by the -arm and engineered her out to her father’s car. At first she was puzzled -by his air of having a right to boss her around, and then the reason -flashed on her mind. Pride! Howard did not want their set to know that -he was no longer drum major in the Sargent procession. - -“There’s a wad of roses at the house for you, Snapsy,” her father -informed her as the machine started, and his brown eyes twinkled until -they almost seemed to be surrounded by a halo. “They’re from number one, -I think.” - -“Number one?” puzzled Gail, who had taken a folding seat so that she -might occasionally pat Taffy, who sat up sedately with the chauffeur. - -“Miles,” protested Mrs. Sargent, trying to direct his glance toward -Arly. - -“Edward E. Allison,” grinned Gail’s father. “He must be a very active -gentleman. Probably telephoned his own florist in New York to telegraph -Marty here to supply you. Nothing has arrived from the other eight.” - -Gail had a mad impulse to search for her time table. She remembered -now—could she ever forget it—that her nine slaves had been numbered! - -“Dad!” she wailed. “You couldn’t have seen that awful paper!” - -“We receive the New York papers now at four P.M.,” he informed her, with -an assumption of local pride in the fact. “This morning’s _Planet_ had a -wonderful circulation here. I think everybody in town has seen it.” - -Arly Fosland had the bad grace to giggle. Mrs. Sargent looked at her -dubiously. She had, of course, implicit confidence in Gail’s selection -of friends, but nevertheless she was not one to make up her own mind too -rapidly. - -“Everybody’s proud of you, Snapsy!” went on Miles Sargent. “That’s a -wonderful collection of slaves to have made in so short a time.” - -“Please don’t, Dad!” begged Gail. - -“For myself, I favour number five,” continued her father, enjoying -himself very much, and Arly Fosland made up her mind that she was going -to feel very homelike in the Sargent house, at dinner times. “Number -five is—” - -“Miles!” and Mrs. Sargent put her hand comfortingly on Gail’s knee, -while she turned reproachful eyes on her husband. - -“Why, Judith,” protested Mrs. Sargent’s husband, in mock surprise; -“number five—” - -“Dad, I’ll jump out of this car!” - -“—is the Reverend Smith Boyd, of Market Square Church, the wealthiest -and most fashionable congregation in the world. Number six—Mrs. Fosland, -I couldn’t make out number six very well. I suppose you know him.” - -Arly shrieked. - -“I can tell you all about them,” she volunteered, judging that this was -perhaps the best way to relieve Gail’s embarrassment. “Number one, the -gentleman who sent the flowers, is a good-looking bachelor of -forty-five, whose specialty is in making big street car companies out of -little ones, and Gail hadn’t been in New York a week, when he took the -first vacation he’s had in ten years. He’ll probably go back to work -to-morrow morning. He was the hero of the wreck.” - -“No doubt a good provider,” commented Mr. Sargent, gravely checking off -number one. - -Even Mrs. Sargent was smiling now, but Gail was looking interestedly at -the old familiar street, and marvelling that it had changed so little. -It seemed impossible that she had only been gone a few weeks. She was -particularly not hearing the flippant conversation in the car. - -“Number two is Dick Rodley,” enumerated Arly, remembering vividly the -grouping of the nine slaves. “He’s the handsomest man in the world!” - -“Probably fickle.” - -“Number three, Willis Cunningham. He wears a beard. I’d rather talk -about number four, Houston Van Ploon,” and she babbled on with her -descriptions of the nine slaves, until finally Gail laughed and helped -her out. - -Somehow, the returned wanderer felt lonely, even with three cars of -friends following her home, as a guard of honour. That was a strange -sensation. Everything was the same, all her friends were steadfast in -their affection, and she was overjoyed to be back among them; yet she -was lonely. Who could explain it? - -Here was Main Street. Dear old busy Main Street, with its shops and its -hotels and its brilliantly lighted drugstores, the latter only serving -to accentuate the deserted blackness. She was sorry that she had not -arrived at an earlier hour, when the windows would have been lighted and -the streets busier with people; though, of course, it was always dull on -Sunday night. Cricky! Sunday! She had an engagement with Houston Van -Ploon to attend a concert to-night, and she had forgotten to send him -word. He had been at Uncle Jim’s, stiff as a ramrod and punctual to the -second, of course. - -Taffy, who had been whining his newly re-aroused distress over the -absence of Gail, now suddenly remembered that she was home again, and -turned around with a short, sharp bark. He stuck out his tongue and -rolled it at her, laughing, and his tail flopped. He quivered all over. - -Now up the avenue, the dear old wide avenue, with its double rows of -trees and its smooth asphalt, glistening like sprinkling rain from the -quartz sand embedded in its surface, and with the prosperous looking -brown stone houses lining each side of the way, every house with its -lawn and its shrubbery and its glass-doored vestibule. They were nearly -all alike these houses, even to lawns and shrubbery, except that some of -them had no iron dogs in the grass, and others had no little white -cupids holding up either a goose spouting water out of its mouth or an -umbrella which furnished its own rain. They were dear houses, every one, -ever so much more personal than the heartless residences of New York; -and her friends lived in them. It was so good to be home! - -She became more excited now. There was their own house just ahead, -occupying nearly half the block, and slightly larger than the others! It -was brilliantly lighted from the basement to the attic, and all the -servants were either on the front steps or peeping from around the -corner of the house, and old mammy Emma, who had cooked Gail’s own -little individual custard pies since she was a baby, had her apron to -her eyes. Gail’s heart was just plumb full! There was no place, oh, no -place in all the world like home! - -Taffy jumped out of the machine as it turned in at the gate, and ran up -ahead to bark a proper welcome, and touched the top step with a circle -like a whip-snapper, and was back again, a long brown and white streak -bellying down to the grass, and prancing a circle around the machine, -and leaping in the air to bark, and back up to the steps and back to the -machine; then lay down in the grass and rolled over, and, jumping up, -chased a cat out of the next yard, in the mere exuberance of joy; but -was back again to crouch before Gail, and whine, as she stepped out of -the car. - -Old Plympton was there, the hollow-stomached black butler, whose -long-tailed coat dropped straight from the middle of his back, and -flapped against the bend of his knees when he walked. His voice trembled -when he greeted Miss Gail, and old Auntie Clem, who had tended Miss Gail -when she was a little girl no bigger than that, and until the fancy -French maid came, just politely took her young missus upstairs to her -room, and took off those heavy shoes, and made her drink her thimble -glass of hot-spiced port wine. It was so good to be home! - -Of course her friends had piled into the house after her, a whole -chattering mob of them, and, late as the hour was, Vivian Jennings -opened the piano and rattled into Auld Lang Syne, which the company sang -with a ringing zest! The tears filled Gail’s eyes as she listened. They -were such faithful, whole-hearted people back here! It was good to go -away, now and then, just for the joy of coming home again; but one -should not go too often. After all, this was a better life. - -Auntie Clem triumphed. She had Miss Gail all fixed up before that fancy -French maid had on her trifling little cap and her hair primped. Arly, -choosing Auntie Clem instantly for her personal attendant on this brief -visit, naturally refused to intrude further on the home coming, and -expressed herself as frantically in love with her little blue bedroom -and boudoir. - -When Gail went downstairs, in a comfortable little red house gown which -was tremendously artful in its simplicity, she found the whole jolly -company in the big dining room, where Miles Sargent had insisted on -opening something in honour of the happy event. She coloured as her -father turned his twinkling eyes on her, but he did not take occasion to -call her a slave driver or to tease her any further about the work of -art which had driven her home. She reproached herself crossly for having -suspected him of such a crudity. Of course he would not do that! - -They had sandwiches, and olives, and cake, and cookies—trust Mammy Emma -for that—and nuts and fruit and bonbons, and coffee, and champagne. -Everybody was excited, walking around with a sandwich in one hand and an -olive in the other, joking with Gail, and complimenting her, and teasing -her, but in every word and look and action, showing that they loved her. - -She had a new knowledge of them, an understanding of what it is like to -have a whole circle of friends who have grown up from childhood -together. They understood each other, and knew each other’s weaknesses -and faults, so that they were not shocked when they saw evidences of -them, and they knew each other’s virtues, so that they did not -overestimate anything and look for too much, and they were dependent -upon each other and knew it, and they were loyal; that was it! Loyal! -Loyal to the very core! It was good, so good to be home! - -No one thought anything about it when Howard Clemmens stayed behind, -after all the rest had gone home. Howard had always done that. It was -his right. - -Howard was distressed in his mind about several things, and, out of a -habitual acquiescence in his old assumption of leadership, and because -she was tired, and because she was tender of thought toward all her old -friends, she answered his very direct questions. Yes, she had finished -her visit. No, she was not engaged. That atrocious newspaper article had -only been a regular Sunday paper social sensation. They fastened that -sort of a story on some one at least once a year. These little matters -settled, Howard was himself again. He was very glad that Gail had -returned to her normal mode of existence, and now that all this -foolishness was over, he took the earliest opportunity to mention the -little matter between them. Would Gail reconsider her answer to the -question he had asked her in New York? He informed her fully as to the -state of his affections, which had not changed in the least, and he -rather expected that this magnanimous attitude on his part would meet -with melting appreciation. He was very much astonished that it did not, -and displeased when she refused him again. Confound it, he had not given -her time to settle down! - -She was only slightly troubled when he bade her good-night. She was -sorry that she could not see the matter as he did, but there was no -trace of doubt in her mind. Somehow, Howard seemed rather colourless of -late. He was a dear, good boy; but she was not the kind of a girl he -needed. - -With only as much trouble on her brow as could be smoothed away by her -fingertips, she went back into the dining room, where her father, who -liked to have a table near him, was enjoying an extra cup of coffee with -his cigar, and shedding the mild disapproval of Mrs. Sargent, who -foresaw a restless night for him. Gail, who had not spared time for -food, poured herself a glass of water, picked up one of the delicious -little chicken sandwiches, and sat down, within easy leaning distance of -her father, for one of the good, old-time, comfortable family chats. -Taffy curled around her feet, and the group was complete. - -Somehow, that inexplicable feeling of loneliness returned to her, in the -midst of this most dear intimacy. What was it? No one can form far ties -without leaving behind some enduring thread of spiritual communication; -for better or for worse. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - GAIL AT HOME - - -“I hear Miss Gail’s back home.” It was the ice man. He had given her -slivers of ice in the days when she had wished that she were a boy. - -“Yassum.” Mammy Emma. She said “Yassum” to everybody; men, women, and -children. - -Gail, still snuggled in the pillows, smiled affectionately, and knew -what time it was. She reached lazily out and pressed the button. - -“Prettier than ever, I suppose.” A slam and a bang and a rattle of -crockery. - -“Heaps.” The clink of a muffin pan. Gail knew the peculiar sound from -that of all the other pans in the house. “I thought I done tole you -yeahs ago to saw that ice straight. Does it fit that away?” - -“All right, Emma.” The slam of a lid. “I’ll remember it next time. Miss -Gail home for good?” - -“Praise the Lawd, yes.” - -The clank of ice tongs. - -“She’s a fine girl!” This with profound conviction. “She didn’t get her -head turned and marry any of those rich New Yorkers.” - -“She could if she’d ‘a’ wanted to!” This indignantly. - -“Sure she could.” Sounds of a heavy booted iceman coming down the steps -of the kitchen porch. “New York papers said she could have her pick; but -she come back home.” - -Gail’s maid came in, a neat French girl who had an artist’s delight in -her. She shivered and closed the windows. - -“Arly!” - -“Good morning,” came a cheerful voice through three open doors. “I’m up -hours,” and Arly trotted in, fresh-eyed and smiling, clad in a rich blue -velvet boudoir robe and her black hair braided down her back. “I peeped -in a few minutes ago, but you were sound asleep. I want my coffee.” - -“You poor infant,” and Gail promptly slid two pink feet out of bed to be -slippered by Nanette. “I’ll be ready in a minute. Why didn’t you ring?” - -“I did. Aunty Clem was up and took all the burden of living away from -me. I wouldn’t have coffee by myself, though. I get that at home,” and -there was the slightest trace of wistfulness in her tone. - -“Call Clem again,” directed Gail. “Shall we have it in your -dressing-room or mine?” - -“All over both suites,” laughed Arly. “I shall never have enough of -these beautiful little rooms,” and she hurried back to her own quarters, -to summons, once more, the broadly smiling face of Aunty Clem. - -That was the beginning of the first morning at home, with every -delightful observance just as it had used to be; first the fragrant -coffee, and the pathetically good hot muffins and jam; then the romping, -laughing, splashing process of dressing; then interrupted by a visit -from Mrs. Sargent, and from Taffy, and from Vivian Jennings, who lived -next door, and from Madge Frazier, who had stayed the night with Vivian; -then a race out to the stables, to say good morning to the horses, and -laughing with moist eyes, hear their excited whinnies of greeting, and -slip them lumps of sugar; then to the kennels to be half smothered by -the eager collies; then over to Vivian’s, to surround deaf old -grandmother Jennings with the flowers she loved best, the faces of young -girls; then back to the house and the telephone, for a cheery good -morning to everybody in the world, beginning with Dad, who was already -plugging away in his office, the morning half gone, and looking forward -to lunch. - -Breakfast at eleven, a brisk horseback ride, a change, and Gail’s little -grey electric was at the door. There was a tremendous lot of shopping to -be done. To begin with, sixteen new hair ribbons, and nine fancy -marbles, not the big ones that you can’t use, but the regular -unattainable fifteen centers, and twenty-five pears, and twenty-five -small boxes of candy, and eleven pound packages of special tea, and six -pound packages of special tobacco, and one quart of whiskey, and -eighteen bunches of red carnations, five to the bunch, five grouping -better than four or six. None of these things were to be delivered. Gail -piled them all in her coupé, and, after saying “howdydo” to about -everybody on Main Street, and feeling immensely uplifted thereby, she -inserted Arly in among the carnations and pears and tobacco and things, -and whirled her out to Chickentown, which was the actively devilish -section of the city allotted to Gail’s church work. - -There were those of the guild who made of this religious duty a solemn -and serious task, to be entered upon with sweet piety and uplifting -words; but Gail had solved her problem in a fashion which kept -Chickentown from hating her and charity. She distributed flowers and -pears and tobacco and things, and perfectly human smiles, and a few -commonsense observations when they seemed to be necessary, and scoldings -where they seemed due, and it was a lasting tribute to her diplomacy and -popularity that all the new born babies in the district were named -either Gail or Gale. - -Chickentown lay in a smoky triangle, entirely surrounded by railroad -yards and boiler factories and packing houses and the like, and it was -as feudal in its instincts as any stronghold of old. Its womenfolk would -not market where the Black Creek women marketed, its men would not drink -in the same saloons, and its children came home scarred and prowed from -gory battles with the Black Creek gang; yet, in their little cottages -and in their tiny yards was the neatness of local pride, which had -sprung up immediately after Gail had inaugurated the annual front yard -flower prize system. - -No sooner had the familiar coupé crossed the Black Creek bridge than a -yell went up, which could be heard echoing and reverberating from street -to street throughout the entire domain of Chickentown! One block inside -the fiefdom, the progress of the car was impeded by exactly twenty-five -children. By some miracle they all arrived at nearly the same time, the -only difference being that those who had come the farthest were the most -out of breath. Gail jumped out among them, and twenty-five right hands -went straight up in the air. She inspected the hands critically, one by -one, and, by that inspection alone, divided the mobs into two groups, -the clean handed ones, who were mostly girls, and the dirty-handed ones, -who looked sorry. She shook hands with the first group, and she smiled -on both, and she distributed hair ribbons and marbles and pears and -candy with cordial understanding. - -“It doesn’t do for me to be away so long,” she confessed, looking them -over regretfully. “I don’t believe you are as clean.” - -Those who were as clean looked consciously hurt, but for the most part -they looked guilty; and Gail apologised individually, to those who -merited it. - -“Now we’ll hear the troubles,” she announced; “and you must hurry. The -cleanest first.” - -Twenty-five hands went up, and she picked out the cleanest, a neat -little girl with yellow hair and blue eyes and a prim little walk, who -shyly came forward alone out of the group and wiggled her interlocked -fingers behind her, while Gail sat in the door of her coupé and held her -court. - -A half-whispered conversation; a genuine trouble, and some sound and -sensible advice. Yellow Hair did not like her school-teacher; and what -was she to do about it? A difficult problem that, and while Gail was -inculcating certain extremely cautious lessons of mingled endurance and -diplomacy, which would have been helpful to grown-ups as well as to -yellow-haired little girls, and which Gail reflected that she might -herself use with profit, Arly, with an entirely new sort of smile in her -softened eyes, walked over to the chattering group, all of whom had -troubles to relate, and asked a boy to have a bill changed for her into -quarter dollars. The boy looked at his hand. - -“I guess I won’t be next for a long time,” and taking the bill ran for -the candy shop, which was nearest. There were seven places of retail -business in Chickentown, and since they dealt mostly in coppers, he -expected to be a long time on this errand. - -Arly watched Gail handle the case of a particularly black-eyed little -girl, whose brother was getting too big to play with her any more; and -she grew wistful. - -“Do you mind if I hear a few troubles, Gail?” she requested. - -“Help yourself,” was the laughing reply. “I think there’s enough to go -around.” - -“I’ll begin at the other end,” decided Arly. “Put up your hands, -kiddies,” and they went up slowly. She conscientiously picked the -dirtiest one, but the boy who owned it came forward with a reluctance -which was almost sullen. - -“I druther tell Miss Gail,” he frankly informed her. - -“Of course,” Arly immediately agreed, smiling down into his eyes with -more charm than she had seen fit to exert on anybody in many months. -“But you can tell Miss Gail about it afterwards, if you like, or you -might tell me your littlest trouble and save your biggest one for Miss -Gail.” - -“I ain’t got but one,” responded the boy, and he looked searchingly into -Arly’s black eyes. Her being pretty, like Gail, was a recommendation. - -“There’s a kid over in Black Creek that I used to lick; but now he’s got -me faded.” - -From his intensity, this was a serious trouble, and Arly considered it -seriously. - -“Does he fight fairly?” she asked, and that one question alone showed -that she knew the first principles of human life and conduct, which was -rare in a girl or woman of any type. - -He came a step closer, and looked up into her eyes with all his -reservation gone. - -“Yessum,” he confessed, and there was something of a clutch in his -throat which would never grow up to be a sob, but which would have been -one in a girl. He’d rather have lied, but you couldn’t get any useful -advice that way. - -“Maybe he’s growing faster than you.” - -“Yessum. I eat all the oatmeal they give me, and I take trainin’ runs -every evening after school, clear up to Scraggers Park and back; but it -don’t do any good.” - -Arly pondered. - -“When does he lick you?” she asked. - -“Right after supper when he catches me.” - -“Do you play all day?” - -“I go to school.” - -“Baseball?” - -“Yessum. Baseball, and one-old-cat, and two-old-cat, and rounders, and -marbles, and prisoner’s base, and high-spy, but mostly baseball and -marbles.” - -Arly studied the future citizen with the eye of a practical physical -culturist, who knew exactly how she had preserved her clear complexion -and lithe figure. In spite of his sturdy build, there was not enough -protuberance to his chest, and, though his cheeks were full enough, -there was a hollow look about his jaws and around his eyes. - -“You’re over-trained,” she decisively told him. “You mustn’t play -marbles very often, or very long at a time, because that stooping over -in the dust isn’t good for you, and you mustn’t take your training runs -up to that park. The other boy licks you because you’re all tired out. I -don’t believe it’s because he’s a better fighter.” - -That boy breathed with the sigh of one freed from a mighty burden, and -the eyes which looked up into Arly’s were almost swimming with -gratitude. - -“She’s all right,” he told the next candidate. “She’s a pippin! Say, do -you know what’s the matter with me? I’m over-trained,” and he smacked -his chest resounding whacks and felt of his biceps. - -There were troubles of all sorts and shapes and sizes, and Arly bent to -them more concentrated wisdom than she had been called upon to display -for years. It was a new game, one with a live zest, and Gail had -invented it. Her admiration for Gail went up a notch. One boy was not so -funny as his brother, and was never noticed; another had to eat turnips; -and Arly’s only little girl, for she had started at the boy end, -couldn’t have little slippers that pinched her feet! - -“I’m glad I came home with you,” commented Arly, when she had finished -her court and had distributed her money, which Gail had permitted her -just this once, and they had driven up the block attended by an escort -of exactly twenty-five. “It makes me think, and I’d almost forgotten -how.” - -“It makes me think, too,” confessed Gail, very seriously. “Suppose I -should go away. They’d go right on living, but I like to flatter myself -that I’m doing more good for them than somebody else could do.” Why that -thought had worried her she could not say. She was home to stay now, -except for the usual trips. - -“You’d find the same opportunities anywhere,” Arly quickly assured her. - -“Yes, but they wouldn’t be these same children,” worried Gail. “I’d -never know others like I know these.” - -“No,” admitted Arly slowly. “I think I’ll pick out a few when I go back -home. I’ve often wondered how to do it, without having them think me a -fool or a nosy, but you’ve solved the problem. You’re tremendously -clever.” - -“Here’s Granny Jones’s,” interrupted Gail, with a smile for the -compliment. “Don’t come in, for she’s my worst specimen. She’s a duty,” -and taking some carnations and a package of tea, she hurried away. - -Flowers and tea for the old ladies, tobacco and flowers for the old men, -and the bottle of whiskey for old Ben Jackson, to whom his little nip -every morning and night was a genuine charity, though one severe worker -left the guild because Gail persisted in taking it to him. - -At the house they found silver-haired old Doctor Mooreman, the rector of -the quaintly beautiful little chapel up the avenue, and he greeted Gail -with a smile which was a strange commingling of spiritual virtue and -earthly shrewdness. - -“Well, how’s my little pagan?” he asked her, in the few minutes they had -alone. - -“Worse than ever, I’m afraid,” she confessed. “I suppose you’re asking -about the state of my mind and the degree of my wickedness.” - -“That’s it exactly,” agreed the Reverend Doctor, smiling on her fondly. -“Are you still quarrelling with the Church, because it prefers to be -respectable rather than merely good?” - -“I’m afraid so,” she laughed. “I still don’t understand why Hell is -preached when nobody believes it; nor why we are told the material -details of a spiritual Heaven, when no one has proved its existence -except by ancient literature; nor why an absolutely holy man whose works -are all good, from end to end of his life, can’t go to Heaven if he -doubts the divinity of the Saviour; nor why so much immorality is -encouraged in the world by teaching that marriage itself is sinful; nor -why a hundred other things, which are necessarily the formulas of man, -are made a condition of the worship of the heart. You see, I’m as bad as -ever.” - -The smile of Doctor Mooreman was a pleasant sight to behold. - -“You’re in no spiritual difficulties,” he told her. “You’re only having -fun with your mind, and laying tragic stress on the few little innocent -fictions which were once well-meant and useful.” - -Gail looked at him in astonishment. - -“I never heard you admit that much!” she marvelled. - -“You’re approaching years of discretion,” laughed her old rector. “All -these things are of small moment compared with the great fact that the -Church does stand as a constant effort to inculcate the grace of God. -The young are prone to require roses without a blemish, but even God has -never made one.” - -“I don’t understand,” she puzzled. “You’re not combatting me on any of -these things as you used to,” and it actually worried her. - -“Let me whisper something to you,” and the Reverend Doctor Mooreman, -whose face had the purity which is only visible in old age, leaned -forward, with his eyes snapping. “I don’t believe a lot of them myself; -but Gail, I believe much in the grace of God, and I believe much in its -refining and bettering influence on humanity, so to the people who would -discard everything for the reason of one little flaw, I teach things I -don’t believe; and my conscience is as clean as a whistle.” - -“You’re a darling old fraud!” Gail’s mind was singularly relieved. She -had worried how a man of Doctor Mooreman’s intelligence could swallow so -many of the things which were fed him in his profession. The -conversation had done her good. It tempered her attitude toward certain -things, but it did not change her steadfast principle that the Church -would be better off if it did not require the teachings of tenets and -articles of faith which were an insult to modern intelligence. - -Had she been unfair with the Reverend Smith Boyd? She could not shake -off that thought. She must tell him the attitude of Doctor Mooreman. -That is, if she ever saw him again. Of course she would, however. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - SOMETHING HAPPENS TO GERALD FOSLAND - - -There was something radically wrong with the Fosland household. Gerald’s -man had for years invariably said: “Good morning, sir; I hope you slept -well, sir.” This time he merely said: “Good morning, sir”; and he forgot -the salt. What was the matter with the house? With the exception of -William’s slip, the every morning programme was quite as usual. Gerald -arose, had his plunge, his breakfast, read his mail and his paper, went -for a canter in the Park, had luncheon at the Papyrus Club, and unless -his morning engagement slip had shown him some social duty for the -afternoon, he did not see Mrs. Fosland until he came down, from the -hands of William, dressed for dinner. - -One can readily see that no deviation from this routine confronted -Gerald Fosland this morning. He had had his plunge and his breakfast, -his mail and his paper laid before him, and yet there was something -ghastly about the feel of the house. It was as if some one were dead! -Gerald Fosland made as radical a deviation from his daily life as -William had done. He left his mail unopened, after a glance at the -postmark; he left his paper unread, and he started for his canter in the -Park a full half hour early! - -He arrived at the Papyrus Club a full half hour early, and sat in the -dimmest corner of the library, taking himself seriously in hand. -Somehow, he was not quite fit, not quite up to himself. It seemed -desperately lonely in the Club. There were plenty of fellows there, but -they were merely nodders. They were not the ones who came at his hour. -He brightened a shade as Tompkinson came in five minutes early. He was -about to wonder if all the world had started a trifle early this -morning, when he remembered that, ordinarily on his arrival, he found -Tompkinson there. He could not analyse why this should be such a relief -to him, unless it was that he found mere normality comforting to-day. - -“Good morning, Fosland,” drawled Tompkinson. “Beautiful weather.” - -“Yes,” said Gerald, and they sat together in voiceless satisfaction -until Connors came in. - -“Good morning,” observed Connors. “Beautiful weather.” - -“Yes,” replied Fosland and Tompkinson, and Connors sat. - -“Depressing affair of Prymm’s,” presently remarked Tompkinson, calling a -boy for the customary appetiser. - -“Rotten,” agreed Connors, with some feeling. All his ancestors had been -Irish, and it never quite gets out of the blood. - -“I haven’t heard,” suggested Fosland, with the decent interest one -club-fellow should have in another. - -“Wife went to Italy with the sculptor who made her portrait; Carmelli, -that’s the name. Intense looking fellow, you know. Prymm had him here at -the club.” - -“You don’t tell me.” Gerald felt an unusual throb of commiseration for -Prymm. “Mighty decent chap.” - -“Yes, Prymm’s all cut up about it,” went on Tompkinson. “Has a sort of -notion he should kill the fellow, or something of the kind.” - -“Why?” demanded Connors, with some feeling again. Connors was a widower, -and Fosland suddenly remembered, though he could not trace a connection -leading to the thought, that Connors had not been a frequenter of the -club until after the death of his wife. “Prymm’s a thoroughly decent -chap, but he was so wasteful.” - -This being a new word in such connection, both Fosland and Tompkinson -looked at Connors inquiringly. - -“I hadn’t noticed.” This Tompkinson. - -“Wasteful of Mrs. Prymm,” explained Connors. “She is a beautiful young -woman, clever, charming, companionable, and, naturally, fond of -admiration. Prymm admired her. He frequently intimated that he did. He -admired his horse, and an exceptional Botticelli which hung in his music -room, but his chief pleasure lay in their possession. He never -considered that he should give any particular pleasure to the -Botticelli, but he did to the horse.” - -Gerald Fosland was aware of a particular feel of discomfort. Rather -heartless to be discussing a fellow member’s intimate affairs this way. - -“It is most unfortunate,” he commented. “Shall we go down to lunch?” - -In the hall they met Prymm, a properly set up fellow, with neatly -plastered hair and an air of unusually perfect grooming. He presented -the appearance of having shaved too closely to-day. - -“Good morning,” said Prymm. “Beautiful weather.” - -Inconsiderate of Prymm to show up at the club. A trifle selfish of him. -It put such a strain on his fellow members. Of course, though, he had -most of his mail there. He only stopped for his mail, and went out. - -“You’ll be in for the usual Tuesday night whist, I dare say,” inquired -Tompkinson perfunctorily. - -“Oh yes,” remembered Fosland, and was thoughtful for a moment. “No, I -don’t think I can come. Sorry.” He felt the eye of Connors fixed on him -curiously. - -On Fosland’s book was a tea, the date filled in two weeks ago; one of -those art things to which men are compelled. Arly had handed it to him, -much like a bill for repairs, or a memorandum to secure steamer tickets. -He drove home, and dressed, and when William handed him his hat and -gloves and stick he laid them on the table beside him, in his lounging -room, and sat down, looking patiently out of the window. He glanced at -his watch, by and by, and resumed his inspection of the opposite side of -the street. He stirred restlessly, and then he suddenly rose, with a -little smile at himself. He had been waiting for word from Mrs. Fosland, -that she was ready. For just a few abstracted moments he had forgotten -that he was to pay the social obligations of the house of Fosland -entirely alone. - -He picked up his hat and gloves and stick, and started to leave the -room. As he passed the door leading to Arly’s apartments, he hesitated, -and put his hand on the knob. He glanced over his shoulder, as a guilty -conscience made him imagine that William was coming in, then he gently -turned the knob, and entered. A tiny vestibule, and then a little -French-grey salon, and then the boudoir, all in delicate blue, and sweet -with a faint, delicate, evasive fragrance which was like the passing of -Arly. Something made him stand, for a moment, with a trace of feeling -which came to awe, and then he turned and went out of the terribly -solemn place. He did not notice, until afterwards, that he had tiptoed. - -Gerald Fosland had never been noted for brilliance, but he was an -insufferable bore at the art tea. People asked him the usual polite -questions, and he either forgot that they were talking or answered about -something else, and he entirely mislaid the fragments of art -conversation which he was supposed to have put on with his ascot. Nearly -every one asked about Arly, and several with more than perfunctory -courtesy. He had always known that Arly was very popular, but he had a -new perception, now, that she was extremely well liked; and it gratified -him. - -Occupied with his own reflections, which were not so much thought as a -dull feeling that he was about to have a thought, he nevertheless felt -that this was a rather agreeable gathering, after all, until he -accidentally joined a group which, with keen fervour, was discussing the -accident to Prymm. He had a general aversion to gossip anyhow, and -shortly after that he went home. - -He wrote some letters, and, when it grew dark, he rang for William. - -“I shall remain in for dinner to-night,” he observed, and mechanically -took up the evening paper which the quiet William laid before him. A -headline which made his hand tremble, caught his eye, and he dropped the -paper. Prymm had shot himself. - -No tragedy had ever shaken Gerald Fosland so much as this. Why, he had -met Prymm only that noon. Prymm had said: “Good morning, beautiful -weather.” For a moment Fosland almost changed his mind about remaining -in for dinner, but, after all, the big panelled dining room, with its -dark wainscoting and its heavily carved furniture and its super-abundant -service, was less lonely than the club. The only words which broke the -silence of the dim dining room during that dinner, were: “Sauce, sir?” - -Gerald took his coffee in his lounging room, and then he went again to -Arly’s door. He turned before he opened it, and tossed his cigarette in -the fireplace. He did not enter by stealth this time. He walked in. He -even went on to the dainty blue bedroom, and looked earnestly about it, -then he went back to the boudoir and seated himself on the stiff chair -in which he had, on rare occasions, sat and chatted with her. He -remained there perhaps half an hour. Suddenly he arose, and called for -his limousine, and drove to Teasdale’s. They were out, he was told. They -were at Mr. Sargent’s, and he drove straight there. Somehow, he was glad -that, since they were out, they had gone to Sargent’s. He was most -anxious to see Lucile. - -“Just in time to join the mourners, Gerald,” greeted Ted. “We’re doing a -very solemn lot of Gailing.” - -“I’ll join you with pleasure,” agreed Gerald, feeling more at home and -lighter of heart here than he had anywhere during the day. Lucile seemed -particularly near to him. “Have you any intimation that Gail expects to -return soon?” - -“None at all,” stated Aunt Helen, with a queer mixture of sombreness and -impatience. “She only writes about what a busy time they are having, and -how delightfully eager her friends have been about her, and how popular -Arly is, and such things as that.” - -“Arly is popular everywhere,” stated Gerald, and Lucile looked at him -wonderingly, turning her head very slowly towards him. - -“What do you hear from Arly?” she inquired, holding up her hand as if to -shield her eyes from the fire, and studying him curiously from that -shadow. - -“Much the same,” he answered; “except that she mentions Gail’s -popularity instead of her own. She had her maid send her another -trunkful of clothing, I believe,” and he fell to gazing into the -fireplace. - -“I am very much disappointed in Arly,” worried Aunt Helen. “I sent Arly -specifically to bring Gail back in a week, and they have been gone nine -days!” - -“I’m glad they’re having a good time,” observed Jim Sargent. “She’ll -come back when she gets ready. The New York pull is something which hits -you in the middle of the night, and makes you get up and pack.” - -“Yes, but the season will soon be over,” worried Aunt Helen. “Gail’s -presence here at this time is so important that I do not see how she can -neglect it. It may affect her entire future life. A second season is -never so full of opportunities as the first one.” - -“Oh nonsense,” laughed Jim. “You’re a fanatic on match-making, Helen. -What you really mean is that Gail should make a choice out of the -matrimonial market before it has all been picked over.” - -“Jim,” protested Mrs. Sargent, the creases of worry appearing in her -brow. Her husband and sister had never quarrelled, but they had -permitted divergences of opinion, which had required much mutual -forbearance. - -“A spade is a spade,” returned Jim. “I think it’s silly to worry about -Gail’s matrimonial prospects. Whenever she’s ready to be married, she’ll -look them all over, and pick out the one who suits her. All she’ll have -to say is ‘Eeny-meeny-miny-moe, you’re it,’ and the fellow will rush -right out and be measured for his suit.” - -“Just the same, I’d rather she’d be here when she counts out,” laughed -Lucile. - -“So would I,” agreed Jim; “but, after all, there are good men -everywhere. Girls get married out in the middle-west as well as here, -and live happily ever after.” - -“They grow fine men out there,” stated Mrs. Sargent, with a -complimentary glance at her husband. She had never wavered in her -opinion of that fine man. - -“Right you are,” agreed Sargent heartily. “They have not the polish of -eastern men perhaps, but they have a strength, and forcefulness, and -virility, which carries them through. There are men out there, stacks of -them, who would appeal to any bright and vivacious woman, sweep her off -her feet, carry her away by storm, and make her forget a lot of things. -If any handsome woman is unappreciated in New York, all she has to do is -to go out to the middle-west.” - -Lucile, listening to the innocently blundering speech of Gail’s proud -uncle, watched Gerald with intense interest. She could scarcely believe -the startling idea which had popped into her head! Gerald’s only -apparent deviation from his normal attitude had consisted in -abstractedly staring into the fire, instead of paying polite attention -to every one, but that he had heard was evidenced by the shifting glance -he gave Sargent. Otherwise he had not moved. - -“You scare me,” said Lucile, still watching Gerald. “I’m not going to -leave Gail out there any longer. I’m going to have her back at once.” - -Gerald raised his head immediately, and smiled at her. - -“Splendid,” he approved. “Fact of the matter is,” and he hesitated an -instant, “I’m becoming extremely lonesome.” - -Even Ted detected something in Gerald’s tone and in his face. - -“It’s time you were waking up,” he bluntly commented. “I should think -you would be lonely without Arly.” - -“Yes, isn’t it time,” agreed Gerald, studying the matter carefully. “You -know, both having plenty of leisure, there’s never been any occasion for -us to travel separately before, and, really, I miss her dreadfully.” - -“I think I’ll have to get her for you, Gerald,” promised Lucile, -removing her hand from in front of her eyes, and smiling at him -reassuringly. She could smile beautifully just now. The incredible thing -she had thought she detected was positively true, and it made her -excitedly happy! Gerald Fosland had been in love with his wife, and had -never known it until now! - -“If you can work that miracle, and bring Gail back with her, you’ll -spread sunshine all over the place,” declared Jim Sargent. “It’s been -like a funeral here since she went home. You’d think Gail was the most -important section of New York. Everybody’s blue; Allison, Doctor Boyd; -everybody who knew her inquires, with long faces, when she’s coming -back!” - -“What do you propose?” inquired Mrs. Helen Davies, with a degree of -interest which intimated that she was quite ready to take any part in -the conspiracy. - -“I have my little plan,” laughed Lucile. “I’m going to send her an -absolutely irresistible reminder of New York!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - THE MESSAGE FROM NEW YORK - - -It was good to be home! Gail wondered that she could ever have been -content away from the loving shelter of her many, many friends. She had -grown world weary in all the false gaiety of New York! She was -disillusioned! She was blasé. She was tired of frivolity; and she -immediately planned or enthusiastically agreed to take part in a series -of gaieties which would have made an average hard-working man anticipate -them with an already broken constitution. - -The house was full of them, morning, noon and night; young girls, sedate -and jolly, and all of them excitedly glad that Gail was among them -again; and young men, in all the degrees from social butterflies to -plodding business pluggers, equally glad. - -Good comfortable home folks these, who were deliciously nice to the -stately black-haired Arly, and voted her a tremendous beauty, and stood -slightly in awe of her. The half cynical Arly, viewing them critically, -found in them one note of interesting novelty; a certain general -clean-hearted wholesomeness, and, being a seeker after the unusual, and -vastly appreciative, she deliberately cultivated them; flattering the -boys, but not so much as to make the other girls hate her. To the girls -she made herself even more attractive, because she liked them better. -She complimented them individually on the point of perfection for which -each girl most prided herself; she told them that they were infinitely -more clever than the women of New York, and better looking, in general; -for the New York women were mostly clothes and make-up; and, above all, -she envied them their truer lives! - -No group of young people could resist such careful work as that, -especially when performed by a young woman so adroit and so attractive, -and so well gowned; so they lost their awkwardness with her, which -removed any sense of discomfort Gail might have felt, which was the aim -to be accomplished. In those first few days Gail was the happiest of all -creatures, in spite of the fact that the local papers had carried a -politer echo of that despicable slave story. At nights, however, -beginning with the second one, when the girls had retired to the mutual -runway of their adjoining suites, the conversation would turn something -like this. - -“Let’s see, this is the seventeenth, isn’t it?” thus Arly. - -“Yes; Tuesday,” concentratedly selecting a chocolate, the box of which -bore a New York name. - -“Mrs. Matson’s ice skating ball is to-night.” A sidelong glance at the -busy Gail. - -“Um-hum.” A chocolate between her white teeth. - -“She always has such original affairs.” - -“Doesn’t she!” Gail draws her sandalled feet up under her and stretches -down her pink negligee, so that she looks like a stiff little statue in -tinted ivory. - -“And such interesting people. That new artist is certain to be there. -What’s his name? Oh yes, Vloddow. I could adore him.” - -“You’re a mere verbal adorer,” laughs Gail, studying anxiously over the -problem of whether she wants another piece of chocolate or not. Allison -had sent such good ones. “Vloddow eats garlic.” - -“That’s why I adore him, from a distance. Of course all the nice regular -fellows will be there; Dick Rodley, and Ted, and Houston, and — Oh, oh! -I forgot to write Gerald,” and with a swift passing kiss somewhere -between Gail’s ear and her chin, she hurries into her own dressing-room, -with a backward glance to make sure that Gail is staring, with softened -brown eyes, down into her chocolate box, and seeing there amid the brown -confections, the laughing, swirling skaters in Mrs. Matson’s glistening -ballroom. Dick, and Ted, and Houston, and Willis, Lucile and Marion, Flo -Reynolds, and the gay little Mrs. Babbitt, and a host of others. There -were some who would not be at that ball; Allison, and the Reverend Smith -Boyd, and—Arlene has plenty of time to write her formally dutiful letter -without disturbance. - -Gail has letters, too, as the days wear on. She scarcely has time for -them amid all the impromptu gaieties, but she does find a chance to read -them; some of them twice. Of course there are letters from “home,” a -prim and still affectionate one from Aunt Helen Davies, and a loving -one, full of worry about Gail’s possible tonsilitis, from Aunt Grace, a -hearty scrawl from Jim, a bubbling little note from Lucile, an absurd -love letter from Ted, couched in terms of the utmost endearment, and -winding up with the proposition to elope with her if she’d only come -back. That was the tenor of all her letters; if she’d only come back! -Bless their hearts, she loved them; and yes, longed for them, even here -in the happy, sheltering environment of her own dear home and friends! -There were still other letters; a confidently friendly one from Allison, -who sent her regularly candy and flowers on alternate days; a -substantial one from Houston Van Ploon; a thoughtful one from Willis -Cunningham; a florid one from Dick Rodley; nice little notes, calculated -to relieve her embarrassment, from all her “slaves” except the missing -Count; and a discussion from the Reverend Smith Boyd. That was one of -those which she read more than once; for it was quite worth it. - - “Dear Miss Sargent: - - “This being our regular evening for discussion, I beg to remind you - that on our last debate, I shall not call it a dispute, we had - barely touched upon the necessity for ritual, or rather, to avoid - any quibble over the word necessity, on my insistence for the need - of a ritual, when we decided that it was better to sing for the - balance of the evening. I was the more ready to acquiesce in this, - as we had, for the first time, hit upon a theorem to which we could - both subscribe; namely, that it is just as easy for the human mind - to grasp the biblical theory of creation as to grasp the creation of - the life-producing chaos out of which evolution must have - proceeded.” - -Gail laid down the letter at this point and smiled, with dancing eyes. -She could see the stern face of the young rector brightening with -pleasure as she had herself propounded this thought, and she could -revisualise his grave pleasure as he had clothed it in accurate words -for them both. It was, as he had said, an extremely solid starting -point, to which they could always return. - - “That this belief is sufficient, even including a continuance of the - omnipresent personal regard which we both admit to assume in that - Creator, I deny. I can see your cheeks flush and your brown eyes - sparkle as you come to this flat statement; and I am willing to - answer for you that you object to my making so far-sweeping a - statement, in the very beginning of what was to have been a slowly - deductive process. You may not be wording it in just this manner, - but this is, in effect, what you are saying. - - “With much patience, I reply that you have not waited for me to - finish, which, I must observe, in justice to myself, you seldom do. - - “Kindly wait just a minute, please. You have thrown back your head, - your brown hair tossing, your pointed chin uptilted, and a little - red spot beginning to appear in your delicately tinted cheeks, but I - hasten to remind you that, if we take up this little side matter of - my unfortunate mention of one of your youthful proclivities, we - shall forget entirely the topic under discussion. I apologise for - having been so rude as to remind you of it, and beg to state that - when I pause at a comma, you had heard but half a statement. - - “At this point you remark that no discussion should be based upon a - half statement, and I admit, with shame, that I am slightly - indignant, for you have not yet permitted me to finish my original - proposition. Now you are sitting back, with your slender white hands - folded in your lap, and the toe of one of your little pointed - slippers waving gently, your curved lashes drooping, and your eyes - carelessly fixed on my cravat, which I can not see, but which I - believe to have been tied with as much care as a gentleman should - expend upon his attire. - - “Miss Sargent, you leave me helpless. I feel a chill sensation in my - cheeks, as if a cold draught had blown upon them. You are firmly - resolved to let me talk without interruption for the next half hour, - upon which you will give me a most adroit answer to everything I - have said. Your answer will have all the effect of refuting my - entire line of logic, without having given me an opportunity to - defend the individual steps. - - “I decline, with much patience, very much patience indeed, to lay - myself open to this conclusion, not because of the undeserved sense - of defeat it will force upon me, but because the matter at issue is - too grave and important to be given a prejudiced dismissal. - - “I can see you now, as I refuse to carry the subject further at this - session. You stiffen in your chair, your eyes, which have seemed so - carelessly indifferent, suddenly glow, and snap, and sparkle, and - flash. The tiny red spots have deepened, enhancing the velvet of - your cheeks. Your red lips curl. You impatiently touch back the - waves of your rippling brown hair with your slender white hand, - which turns so gracefully upon its wrist. You blaze straight into my - eyes, and tell me that I have taken this means of avoiding the - discussion, because I perceive in advance that I am beaten. - - “Miss Sargent, I do not tell you that you are unfair and ungenerous - to seize upon this advantage; instead, I bite my lip, and compel my - countenance to befitting gravity, knowing that I should be above the - petty emotions of anger, impatience, and offended pride; but humbly - confessing, to myself, that I have not my nature under such perfect - subjection as I should like to have. - - “Consequently, I beg you to defer this step in our logical deduction - to another night, and turn, with grateful relief, to the music. I - need not say how heartily I wish that you were here to sing with me. - - “Yours earnestly, - “SMITH BOYD.” - -Gail shrieked when she first read that letter, then she read it again -and blushed. She had, as she came upon his initial flat statement of -denial, felt a flush in her cheeks and a snap in her eyes. She had, as -she read, stiffened with indignation, and relaxed in scornful disdain, -and flashed with hot retort, in advance of his discernment that she -would do so! She was flamingly vexed with him! On the third reading her -eyes twinkled, and her red lips curved deliciously with humour, as she -admired the cleverness which she had previously only recognised. In -subsequent readings this was her continued attitude, and she kept the -letter somewhere in the neighbourhood where she might touch it -occasionally, because of the keen mental appreciation she had for it. -Were her eyes really capable of such an infinite variety of expression -as he had suggested? She looked in the glass to see; but was -disappointed. They were merely large, and brown, and deep, and, just -now, rather softened. - -There was an impromptu party at Gail’s house, a jolly affair, indeed. -All her old, steadfast friends, you know, who were quite sufficient to -fill her life; and this was the night of the gay little Mrs. Babbitt’s -affair in New York. How much better than those great, glittering, social -pageants was a simple, wholesome little ball like this, with all her -dear girl chums, in their pretty little Paris model frocks, and all the -boys, in their shiny white fronts. No one had changed, not even -impulsive Howard Clemmens. Poor Howard! He knew now that his refusal was -permanent and enduring, yet he came right to the front with his same -assumption of proprietorship. She let him do it. You see, in all these -years, the boys had tacitly admitted that Howard “had the inside track”; -so, while they all admired and loved her, they stepped aside and -permitted him to monopolise her. Back home there was a sort of esprit de -corps like that, though it was sometimes hard on the girl. When Gail had -flown home from the cruel world to the sheltering arms of her mother and -her friends, she had firmly planned to set Howard in his proper place as -a formal friend, and thereafter be free. There were quite a number of -the boys who had, at one time or another, seemed quite worth -cultivation. When she came to meet them again, however, with that same -old brotherly love shining in their eyes, she somehow found that she did -not care to be free. Anyhow, it would humiliate Howard to reduce him so -publicly to the ranks, snip off his buttons and take his sabre, as it -were; so she allowed him to clank his spurs, to the joy and delight of -Arly. - -This was the gayest party of which Gail had been the bright particular -ornament since her return, and she quite felt, except for the presence -of Arly, that she had fallen back into her old familiar life. Why, it -seemed as if she had been home for ages and ages! There was the same old -dance music, the Knippel orchestra, with the wonderfully gifted fat -violinist, and the pallid pianist with the long hair, who had four -children, and the ’cellist who scowled so dreadfully but played the deep -passages so superbly, and clarinettist, whom every one thought should -have gone in for concert work, and the grey-haired old basso player, who -never looked up and who never moved a muscle except those in his arms, -one up and down and the other crosswise; there was a new second -violinist, a black-browed man who looked as if he had been disappointed -in life, but second violinists always do. - -At the end of the Sargent ballroom, where Gail’s sedate but hospitable -mother always sat until the “Home, Sweet Home” dance was ended, were the -same dear, familiar palms, which Marty, the florist, always sent to -everybody’s house to augment the home collection. The gorgeous big one -had a leaf gone, but it was sprouting two others. - -Tremendously gay affair. Everybody was delighted, and said so; and they -laughed and danced and strolled and ate ices, and said jolly nothings, -and knew, justifiably, that they were nice, and clever, and happy young -people; and Arly Fosland, with any number of young men wondering how old -her husband was, danced conscientiously, and smiled immediately when any -one looked at her. Gail also was dancing conscientiously, and having a -perfectly happy evening. At about this hour there would be something -near four hundred people in the ballroom, and the drawing-rooms, and the -conservatory of Mrs. Babbitt’s. - -She was whirling near the balcony windows with a tall young friend who -breathed, when there was an exclamation from a group of girls at the -window. Vivian Jennings turned. She was a girl with the sort of eyes -which, in one sweep, can find the only four-leafed clover in a -forty-acre field. - -“Gail!” she cried, almost dancing. “Gail! Do come and see it!” - -Gail did not desert her partner; she merely started over to the window -with one hand trailing behind her as an indication to follow, and -immediately, without looking around, she called: - -“Arly! Where’s Arly?” - -What she saw was this. A rich brown limousine, in which the dome light -was brightly burning, had drawn up to the steps. Inside, among the rich -brown cushions and hangings, and pausing to light a leisurely cigarette, -sat the most wickedly handsome man in the world! He was black-haired, -and black-moustached and black-goateed, and had large, lustrous, melting -black eyes, while on his oval cheeks was the ruddy bloom of health. -Every girl in the window sighed, as, with a movement which was grace in -every changing line, he stepped out of the brilliantly lighted -limousine, and came slowly up the steps, tall, slender, magnificent, in -his shining silk hat and his flowing Inverness, and his white tie, and -his pleated shirt front—Oh, everything; correct to the last detail, -except for the trifling touches of originality, down to his patent -leather tips! With a wave of careless ease he flung back his Inverness -over one shoulder, and rang the bell! - -“Dick!” cried a voice just behind Gail’s ear. Gail had not known that -any one was leaning heavily on her shoulders, but now she and Arly, with -one accord, turned and raced for the vestibule! - -“You handsome thing!” cried Arly, as he stepped into the hall and held -out a hand to each of them. “I’ve a notion to kiss you!” - -“All right,” he beamed down on her, sparing another beam for Gail. No, -Gail had not exaggerated in memory the magic of his melting eyes. It -could not be exaggerated! - -“There aren’t any words to tell you how welcome you are!” said Gail, as -the butler disappeared with his hat and Inverness. - -“What on earth brought you here to bless us?” demanded Arly. - -“I came to propose to Gail,” announced Dick calmly, and took her hand -again, bending down on her that wonderfully magnetic gaze, so that she -was panic-stricken in the idea that he was about to proceed with his -project right on the spot. - -“Wait until after the dance,” she laughingly requested, drawing back a -step and blushing furiously. - -“We’re wasting time,” protested Arly. “Hurry on in, Dick. We want to -exhibit you.” - -“I don’t mind,” consented Dick cheerfully, and stepped through the -doorway, where he created the gasp. - -Eleven girls dreamed of his melting eyes that night; and Howard Clemmens -lost his monopoly. Viewing Gail’s victorious scramble with Arly for -Dick’s exclusive possession, Howard’s friends unanimously reduced him to -the ranks. - -After the dance, Dick made good his threat with Gail, and formally -proposed, urging his enterprise in coming after her as one of his claims -to consideration; but Gail, laughing, and liking him tremendously, told -him he was too handsome to be married, and sent him back home with a -fresh gardenia in his buttonhole. That night Arly and Gail sat long and -silently on the comfortable couch in front of Arly’s fireplace, one in -fluffy blue and the other in fluffy pink, and the one in fluffy blue -furtively studying the one in fluffy pink from under her black -eyelashes. The one in pink was gazing into the fire with far-seeing -brown eyes, and was braiding and unbraiding, with slender white fingers, -a flowing strand of her brown hair. - -“Gail,” ventured the one in blue. - -“Yes.” This abstractedly. - -“Aren’t you a little bit homesick? I am.” - -“So am I!” answered Gail, with sudden animation. - -“Let’s go back!” excitedly. - -“When?” and Gail jumped up. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - THE RECTOR KNOWS - - -The Reverend Smith Boyd came down to breakfast with a more or less -hollow look in his face, and his mother, inspecting him keenly, poured -his coffee immediately. There was the trace of a twinkle in her eyes, -which were nevertheless extremely solicitous. - -“How is your head?” she inquired. - -“All right, thank you.” This listlessly. - -“Are you sure it doesn’t ache at all?” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd dutifully withdrew his mind from elsewhere, to -consider that proposition justly. - -“I think not,” he decided, and he fell into exactly such a state of -melancholy, trifling with his grape fruit, as Mrs. Boyd wished to test. -She focussed her keen eyes on him microscopically. - -“Miss Sargent is coming back to-night; on the six-ten train.” - -There was a clatter in the Reverend Smith Boyd’s service plate. He had -been awkward with his spoon, and dropped it. He made to pick it up, but -reached two inches the other side of the handle. Mrs. Boyd could have -laughed aloud for sheer joy. She made up her mind to do some energetic -missionary work with Gail Sargent at the first opportunity. The foolish -notions Gail had about the church should be removed. Mrs. Boyd had long -ago studied this matter of religion, with a clear mind and an honest -heart. It was a matter of faith, and she had it; so why be miserable! -Her reverie was broken by the calm and mellow voice of her son. - -“That is delightful news,” he returned with a frank enthusiasm which was -depressing to his mother. - -“I think I shall have the Sargents over to dinner,” she went on, -persisting in her hope. - -“That will be pleasant.” Frank again, carefree, aglow with neighbourly -friendliness; even affection! - -Mrs. Boyd had nothing more to say. She watched her son Tod start -vigorously at his grape fruit, with a vivacity which seemed to indicate -that he might finish with the rind. He drew his eggs energetically -toward him, buttered a slice of toast, and finished his breakfast. -Suddenly he looked at his watch. - -“I have an extremely busy day before me,” he told her briskly. “I have -Vedder Court this morning, some calls in the afternoon, and a mission -meeting at four-thirty. I might probably be late for dinner,” and -feeling to see if he had supplied himself with handkerchiefs, he kissed -his mother, and was gone without another word about Gail! She could have -shaken him in her disappointment. What was the matter with Tod? - -The Reverend Smith Boyd sang as he went out of the door, not a tune or -any set musical form, but a mere unconscious testing of his voice. It -was quite unusual for him to sing on the way to Vedder Court, for he -devoted his time to this portion of his duties because he was a -Christian. He had sympathy, more than enough, and he both understood and -pitied the people of Vedder Court, but, in spite of all his intense -interest in the deplorable condition of humanity’s weak and helpless, he -was compelled to confess to himself that he loathed dirt. - -Vedder Court was particularly perfect in its specialty this morning. The -oily black sediment on its pavements was streaked with iridescence, and -grime seemed to be shedding from every point of the drunken old -buildings, as if they had lain inebriated in a soaking rain all night, -and had just staggered up, to drip. They even seemed to leer down at the -Reverend Smith Boyd, as if his being the only clean thing in the street -were an impertinence, which they would soon rectify. It had been -comparatively dry in the brighter streets of New York, but here, in -Vedder Court, there was perpetual moisture, which seemed to cling, and -to stick, and to fasten its unwholesome scum permanently on everything. -Never had the tangle of smudge-coated children seemed so squalid; never -had the slatternly women seemed so unfeminine; never had the spineless -looking men seemed so shuffling and furtive and sodden; never had the -whole of the human fungi in Vedder Court seemed so unnecessary, and -useless, and, the rector discovered in himself with startled contrition, -so thoroughly not worth saving, body or soul! - -A half intoxicated woman, her front teeth missing and her colourless -hair straggling, and her cheekbones gleaming with the high red of -debauchery, leered up at him as he passed, as if in all her miserable -being there could be one shred, or atom, to invite or attract. A -curly-headed youngster, who would have been angelically beautiful if he -had been washed and his native blood pumped from him, threw mud at the -Reverend Smith Boyd, out of a mere artistic desire to reduce him to -harmony with his surroundings. A mouthing old woman, with hands clawed -like a parrot’s, begged him for alms, and he was ashamed of himself that -he gave it to her with such shrinking. The master could not have been -like this. A burly “pan handler” stopped him with an artificial whine. A -cripple, displaying his ugly deformity for the benefit and example of -the unborn, took from him a dole and a wince of repulsion. - -“The poor ye have always with ye!” For ages that had been the excuse for -such offences as Vedder Court. They were here, they must be cared for -within their means, and no amount of pauperising charity could remove -them from the scheme of things. In so far, Market Square Church felt -justified in its landlordship, that it nursled squalor and bred more. -Yet, somehow, the rector of that solidly respectable institution was not -quite satisfied, and he had added a new expense to the profit and loss -account in the ledger of this particular House of God. He had hired a -crew of forty muscular men, with horses and carts, and had caused them -to be deputised as sanitary police, and had given them authority to -enter and clean; which may have accounted for the especially germ laden -feel of the atmosphere this morning. Down in the next block, where the -squad was systematically at work, there were the sounds of countless -individual battles, and loud mouthings of the fundamental principles of -anarchy. A government which would force soap and deodorisers and -germicides on presumably free and independent citizens, was a government -of tyranny; and it had been a particular wisdom, on the part of the -rough-hewn faced man who had hired this crew, to select none but -accomplished brick dodgers. In the ten carts which lined the curb on -both sides, there were piled such a conglomerate mass of nondescript -fragments of everything undesirable that the rector felt a trace better, -as if he had erased one mark at least of the long black score against -himself. Somehow, recently, he had acquired an urgent impulse to clean -Vedder Court! - -He turned in at one of the darkest and most uninviting of the rickety -stairways. He skipped, with a practised tread, the broken third step, -and made a mental note to once more take up, with the property -committee, the battle of minor repairs. He stopped at the third landing, -and knocked at a dark door, whereupon a petulant voice told him to come -in. The petulant voice came from a woman who sat in a broken rockered -chair, with one leg held stiffly in front of her. She was heavy with the -fat which rolls and bulges, and an empty beer pail, on which the froth -had dried, sat by her side. On the rickety bed lay a man propped on one -elbow, who had been unshaven for days, so that his sandy beard made a -sort of layer on his square face. The man sat up at once. He was a -trifle under-sized, but broad-shouldered and short-necked, and had -enormous red hands. - -“How are you to-day, Mrs. Rogers?” asked the rector, sitting on a -backless and bottomless chair, with his hat on his knees, and holding -himself small, with an unconscious instinct to not let anything touch -him. - -“No better,” replied the woman, making her voice weak. “I’ll never know -a well day again. The good Lord has seen fit to afflict me. I ain’t -saying anything, but it ain’t fair.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd could not resist a slight contraction of his -brows. Mrs. Rogers invariably introduced the Lord into every -conversation with the rector, and it was his duty to wrestle with her -soul, if she insisted. He was not averse to imparting religious -instruction, but, being a practical man, he could not enjoy wasting his -breath. - -“There are many things we can not understand,” he granted. “What does -the doctor say about your condition?” - -“He don’t offer no hope,” returned the woman, with gratification. “This -knee joint will be stiff till the end of my days. If I had anything to -blame myself with it would be different, but I ain’t. I say my prayers -every night, but if I’m too sick, I do it in the morning.” - -“Can that stuff!” growled the man on the bed. “You been prayin’ once a -day ever since I got you, and nothin’s ever happened.” - -“I’ve brought you a job,” returned the Reverend Smith Boyd promptly. “I -have still ten places to fill on the sanitary squad which is cleaning up -Vedder Court.” - -The man on the bed sat perfectly still. - -“How long will it last?” he growled. - -“Two weeks.” - -“What’s the pay?” - -“A dollar and a half a day.” - -The man shook his head. - -“I can’t do it,” he regretted. “I don’t say anything about the pay, but -I’m a stationary engineer.” He was interested enough in his course of -solid reasoning to lay a stubby finger in his soiled palm. “If I take -this two weeks’ job, it’ll stop me from lookin’ for work, and I might -miss a permanent situation.” - -The rector suppressed certain entirely human instincts. - -“You have not had employment for six months,” he reminded Mr. Rogers. - -“That’s the reason I can’t take a chance,” was the triumphant response. -“If I’d miss a job through takin’ this cheap little thing you offer me, -I’d never forgive myself; and you’d have it on your conscience, too.” - -“Then you won’t accept it,” and the rector rose, with extremely cold -eyes. - -“I’d like to accommodate you, but I can’t afford it,” and the man -remained perfectly still, an art which he had brought to great -perfection. “All we need is the loan of a little money while I’m huntin’ -work.” - -“I can’t give it to you,” announced the Reverend Smith Boyd firmly. -“I’ve offered you an opportunity to earn money, and you won’t accept it. -That ends my responsibility.” - -“You’d better take it, Frank,” advised the woman, losing a little of the -weakness of her voice. - -“You ’tend to your own business!” advised Mr. Rogers in return. “You’re -supposed to run the house, and I’m supposed to earn the living! Reverend -Boyd, if you’ll lend me two dollars till a week from Saturday—” - -“I told you no,” and the rector started to leave the room. - -There was a knock at the door. A thick-armed man with a short, wide face -walked in, a pail in one hand and a scrubbing brush in the other. On the -back of his head was pushed a bright blue cap, with “Sanitary Police” on -it, in tarnished braid. Mr. Rogers stood up. - -“What do you want?” he quite naturally inquired. - -“Clean up,” replied the sanitary policeman, setting down his pail and -ducking his head at the rector, then mopping his brow with a bent -forefinger, while he picked out a place to begin. - -“Nothin’ doing!” announced Mr. Rogers, aflame with the dignity of an -outraged householder. “Good-night!” and he advanced a warning step. - -The wide set sanitary policeman paused in his survey long enough to wag -a thick forefinger at the outraged householder. - -“Don’t start anything,” he advised. “There’s some tough mugs in this -block, but you go down to the places I’ve been, and you’ll find that -they’re all clean.” - -With these few simple remarks, he turned his back indifferently to Mr. -Rogers, and, catching hold of the carpet in the corner with his fingers, -he lifted it up by the roots. - -“There’s no use buckin’ the government,” Mr. Rogers decided, after a -critical study of the sanitary policeman’s back, which was extremely -impressive. “It’s a government of the rich for the rich. Has a poor man -got any show? I’m a capable stationary engineer. All I ask is a chance -to work—at my trade.” This by an afterthought. “If you’ll give me two -dollars to tide me over—” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd stepped out of the way of the sanitary -policeman, and then stepped out of the door. - -“And you call yourself a minister of the gospel!” Mr. Rogers yelled -after him. - -That was a sample of the morning’s work, and the Reverend Smith Boyd -felt more and more, as he neared luncheon time, that he merited some -consideration, if only for the weight of the cross he bore. There were -worse incidents than the abuse of men like Rogers; there were the -hideous sick to see, and the genuinely distressed to comfort, and -depthless misery to relieve; and any day in Vedder Court was a terrific -drain, both upon his sympathies and his personal pocket. - -He felt that this was an exceptionally long day. - -Home in a hurry at twelve-thirty. A scrub, a complete change of -everything, and a general feeling that he should have been sterilised -and baked as well. Luncheon with the mother who saw what a long day this -was, then a far different type of calls; in a sedate black car this -time, up along the avenue, and in and out of the clean side streets, -where there was little danger of having a tire punctured by a wanton -knife, as so often happened in Vedder Court. He called on old Mrs. -Henning, who read her Bible every day to find knotty passages for him to -expound; he called on the Misses Crasley, who were not thin but bony, -who sat frozenly erect with their feet neatly together and their hands -in their laps, and discussed foreign missions with greedy relish; he -spent a half hour with plump Mrs. Rutherford, who shamelessly hinted -that a rector should be married, and who was the worried possessor of -three plump daughters, who did not seem to move well from the shelves; -he listened to the disloyal confessions of Mrs. Sayers, who at heart -liked her husband because he provided her so many faults to brood upon; -he made brief visits with three successive parishioners who were sweet, -good women with a normally balanced sense of duty, and with two -successive parishioners who looked on the Kingdom of Heaven as a -respectable social circle, which should be patronised like a sewing -girls’ club or any other worthy institution. - -Away to Vedder Court again, dismissing his car at the door of Temple -Mission, and walking inside, out of range of the leers of those senile -old buildings, but not out of the range of the peculiar spirit of Vedder -Court, which manifested itself most clearly to the olfactory sense. - -The organ was playing when he entered, and the benches were half filled -by battered old human remnants, who pretended conversion in order to -pick up the crumbs which fell from the table of Market Square Church. -Chiding himself for weariness of the spirit, and comforting himself with -the thought that one greater than he had faltered on the way to Golgotha -he sat on the little platform, with a hymn book in his hand, and, when -the prelude was finished, he devoted his wonderful voice to the -blasphemy. - -The organist, a volunteer, a little old man who kept a shoemaker’s shop -around the corner, and who played sincerely in the name of helpfulness, -was pure of heart. - -The man with the rough-hewn countenance, unfortunately not here to-day, -was also sincere in an entirely unspiritual sort of way; but, with these -exceptions, and himself, of course, the rector knew positively that -there was not another uncalloused creature in the room, not one who -could be reached by argument, sympathy, or fear! They were past -redemption, every last man and woman; and, at the conclusion of the -hymn, he rose to cast his pearls before swine, without heart and without -interest; for no man is interested in anything which can not possibly be -accomplished. - -With a feeling of mockery, yet upheld by the thought that he was holding -out the way and the light, not only seven times but seventy times seven -times, to whatever shred or crumb of divinity might lie unsuspected in -these sterile breasts, he strove earnestly to arouse enthusiasm in -himself so that he might stir these dead ghosts, even in some minute and -remote degree. - -Suddenly a harsh and raucous voice interrupted him. It was the voice of -Mr. Rogers, and that gentleman, who had apparently secured somewhere the -two dollars to tide him over, was now embarked on the tide. He had taken -just enough drinks to make him ugly, if that process were possible, and -he had developed a particularly strong resentment of the latest -injustice which had been perpetrated on him. That injustice consisted of -the Reverend Smith Boyd’s refusal to lend him money till a week from -next Saturday night; and he had come to expose the rector’s shallow -hypocrisy. This he proceeded to do, in language quite unsuited to the -chapel of Temple Mission and to the ears of the ladies then present; -most of whom grinned. - -The proceedings which followed were but brief. The Reverend Smith Boyd -requested the intruder to stop. The intruder had rights, and he stood on -them! The Reverend Smith Boyd ordered him to stop; but the intruder had -a free and independent spirit, which forbade him to accept orders from -any man! The Reverend Smith Boyd, in the interests of the discipline -without which the dignity and effectiveness of the cause could not be -upheld, and pleased that this was so, ordered him out of the room. Mr. -Rogers, with a flood of abuse which displayed some versatility, invited -the Reverend Smith Boyd to put him out; and the Reverend Smith Boyd did -so. It was not much of a struggle, though Mr. Rogers tore two benches -loose on his way, and, at the narrow door through which it is difficult -to thrust even a weak man, because there are so many arms and legs -attached to the human torso, he offered so much resistance that the -reverend doctor was compelled to practically pitch him, headlong, across -the sidewalk, and over the curb, and into the gutter! The victim of -injustice arose slowly, and turned to come back, but he paused to take a -good look at the stalwart young perpetrator, and remembered that he was -thirsty. - -The Reverend Smith Boyd found himself standing in the middle of the -sidewalk, with his fists clenched and his blood surging. The atmosphere -before his eyes seemed to be warm, as if it were reddened slightly. He -was tingling from head to foot with a passion which he had repressed, -and throttled, and smothered since the days of his boyhood! He had -striven, with a strength which was the secret of his compelling voice, -to drive out of him all earthly dross, to found himself on the great -example which was without the cravings of the body; he had sought to -make himself spiritual; but, all at once, this conflict had roused in -him a raging something, which swept up from the very soles of his feet -to his twirling brain, and called him man! - -For a quivering moment he stood there, alive with all the virility which -was the richer because of his long repression. He knew many things now, -many things which ripened him in an instant, and gave him the heart to -touch, and the mind to understand, and the soul to flame. He knew -himself, he knew life, he knew, yes, and that was the wonderful miracle -of the flood which poured in on him, he knew love! - -He reached suddenly for his watch. Six-ten. He could make it! Still -impelled by this new creature which had sprung up in him, he started; -but at the curb he stopped. He had been in such a whirl of emotion that -he had not realised the absence of his hat. He strode into the mission -door, and the rays of the declining sun, struggling dimly through the -dingy glass, fell on the scattered little assemblage—as if it had been -sent to touch them in mercy and compassion—on the weak, and the poor, -and the piteously crippled of soul; and a great wave of shame came to -him; shame, and thankfulness, too! - -He walked slowly up to the platform, and, turning to that reddened -sunlight which bathed his upturned face as if with a benediction, he -said, in a voice which, in its new sweetness of vibration, stirred even -the murky depths of these, the numb: - -“Let us pray.” - - - - - CHAPTER XX - THE BREED OF GAIL - - -Who was that tall, severely correct gentleman waiting at the station, -with a bunch of violets in his hand, and the light in his countenance -which was never on sea or land? It was Gerald Fosland, and he astonished -all beholders by his extraordinary conduct. As the beautiful Arly -stepped through the gates, he advanced with an entirely unrepressed -smile, springing from the ball of his feet with a buoyancy too active to -be quite in good form. He took Arly’s hand in his, but he did not bend -over it with his customary courteous gallantry. Instead, he drew her -slightly towards him, with a firm and deliberate movement, and, bending -his head sidewise under the brim of her hat, kissed her; kissed her on -the lips! - -Immediately thereafter he gave a dignified welcome to Gail, and with -Arly’s arm clutched tightly in his own, he then disappeared. As they -walked rapidly away, Arly looked up at him in bewilderment; then she -suddenly hugged herself closer to him with a jerk. As they went out -through the carriage entrance, she skipped. - -It was good to see Allison, big, strong, forceful, typical of the city -and its mighty deeds. His eye had lighted with something more than -pleasure as Gail stepped out through the gates of the station; something -so infinitely more than pleasure that her eyes dropped, and her hand -trembled as she felt that same old warm thrill of his clasp. He was so -overwhelming in his physical dominance. He took immediate possession of -her, standing by while she greeted her uncle and aunt and other friends, -and beaming with justifiably proud proprietorship. Gail had laughed as -she recognised that attitude, and she found it magnificent after the -pretentions of Howard Clemmens. The difference was that Allison was -really a big man, one born to command, to sway things, to move and shift -and re-arrange great forces; and that, of course, was his manner in -everything. She flushed each time she looked in his direction; for he -never removed his gaze from her; bold, confident, supreme. When a man -like that is kind and gentle and considerate, when he is tender and -thoughtful and full of devotion, he is a big man indeed! - -She let him put her hand on his arm, and felt restful, after the -greetings had been exchanged, as he led her out to the big touring car, -asking her all sorts of eager questions about how she found her home and -her friends, and if the journey had fatigued her, and telling her, over -and over, how good she looked, how bright and how clear-eyed and how -fresh-cheeked, and how charming in her grey travelling costume. She felt -the thrill again as he took her hand in his to help her into the car, -and she loved the masterful manner in which he cleared a way to their -machine through the crowded traffic. In the same masterful air, he -gently but firmly changed her from the little folding seat to the big -soft cushions in the rear, beside her Aunt Grace. - -The Reverend Smith Boyd was at the steps of the Sargent house to greet -her, and her heart leaped as she recognised another of the dear familiar -faces. This was her world, after all; not that world of her childhood. -How different the rector looked; or was it that she had needed to go -away in order to judge her friends anew? His eyes were different; -deeper, steadier and more penetrating into her own; and, yes, bolder. -She was forced to look away from them for a moment. There seemed a warm -eagerness in his greeting, as if everything in him were drawing her to -him. It was indescribable, that change in the Reverend Smith Boyd, but -it was not unexplainable; and, after he had swung back home, with the -earnest promise to come over after dinner, she suddenly blushed -furiously, without any cause, while she was talking of nothing more -intense than the excellent physical condition of Flakes. - -Gay little Mrs. Babbitt brought her husband, while the family group was -still jabbering over its coffee, and after them came the deluge; Dick -Rodley and the cherub-cheeked Marion Kenneth, and Willis Cunningham, and -a host of others, including the Van Ploons, father, son, and solemn -daughter. The callow youth who had danced with her three times was -there, with a gardenia all out of proportion to him, and he sat in the -middle of the Louis XIV salon, where he was excessively in everybody’s -road, and could feast on Gail, for the most of the evening, in numb -admiration; for his point of vantage commanded a view into the library -and all the parlours. - -With a rapidity which was a marvel to all her girl friends, Gail had -slipped upstairs and into a creamy lace evening frock without having -been missed; and she was in this acutely harmonious setting when the -Reverend Smith Boyd called, with his beautiful mother on his arm. The -beautiful mother was in an exceptional flurry of delight to see Gail, -and kissed that charming young lady with clinging warmth. The rector’s -eyes were even more strikingly changed than they had been when he had -first met her on the steps, as they looked on Gail in her creamy lace, -and after she had read that new intense look in his eyes for the second -time that evening, she hurried away, with the license of a busy hostess, -and cooled her face at an open window in the side vestibule. There was a -new note in the Reverend Smith Boyd’s voice; not a greater depth nor -mellowness nor sweetness, but a something else. What was it? It was a -call, that was it; a call across the gulf of futurity. - -They came after her. Ted and Lucile had arrived. She was in a vortex. -Dick Rodley hemmed her in a corner, and proposed to her again, just for -practice, within eye-shot of a dozen people, and he did it so that -onlookers might think that he was complimenting her on her clever -coiffure or discussing a new operetta; but he made her blush, which was -the intention in the depths of his black eyes. It seemed that she was in -a perpetual blush to-night, and something within her seemed to be -surging and halting and wavering and quivering! Her Aunt Helen Davies, -rather early in the evening, began to act stiff and formal. - -“Go home,” she murmured to Lucile. “All this excitement is bad for -Gail’s beauty.” - -She felt free to give the same advice to the gay little Mrs. Babbitt, -and the departure of four people was sufficient to remind the stiff Van -Ploon daughter of the conventions. She removed the elder Van Ploon’s -eyes from Gail, and gathered up Houston, who was energetically talking -horse with Allison. After that the exodus became general, until only the -callow youth and Allison and the Reverend Smith Boyd remained. The -latter young gentleman had taken his flutteringly happy mother home -early in the evening, and he had resorted to dulness with such of the -thinning guests as had seemed disposed to linger. - -It was Aunt Helen who, by some magic of adroitness, sent the callow -youth on his way. He was worth any amount of money to which one cared to -add ciphers, and his family was flawless except for him; but Aunt Helen -had decisively cut him off her books, because he was so well fitted to -be the last of his line. She thought she had better go upstairs after -that, and she glanced into the music room as she passed, and knitted her -brows at the tableau. The Reverend Smith Boyd, who seemed unusually fine -looking to-night, stood leaning against the piano, watching Gail with an -almost incendiary gaze. That young lady, steadily resisting an impulse -to feel her cheek with the back of her hand, sat on the end of the piano -bench furthest removed from the rector, and directed the most of her -attention to Allison, who was less disconcerting. Allison, casting an -occasional glance at the intense young rector, seemed preoccupied -to-night; and Mrs. Helen Davies, pausing to take her sister Grace with -her, walked up the stairs with a forefinger tapping at her well-shaped -chin. She seemed to have reversed places with her sister to-night; for -Mrs. Sargent was supremely happy, while Helen Davies was doing the -family worrying. - -She could have bid Allison adieu had she waited a very few minutes. He -was a man who had spent a lifetime in linking two and two together, and -he abided unwaveringly by his deductions. There was no mistaking the -nature of the change which was so apparent in the Reverend Smith Boyd; -but Allison, after careful thought on the matter, was able to take a -comparatively early departure. - -“I’ll see you to-morrow, Gail,” he observed finally. Rising, he crossed -to where she sat, and, reaching into her lap, he took both her hands. He -let her arms swing from his clasp, and, looking down into her eyes with -smiling regard, he gave her hands an extra pressure, which sent, for the -hundredth time that night, a surge of colour over her face. - -The Reverend Smith Boyd, blazing down at that scene, suddenly felt -something crushing under his hand. It was the light runner board of the -music rack, and three hairs, which had lain in placid place at the crown -of his head, suddenly popped erect. Ten thousand years before had these -three been so grouped, Allison would have felt a stone axe on the back -of his neck, but as it was he passed out unmolested, nodding carelessly -to the young rector, and bestowing on Gail a parting look which was the -perfection of easy assurance. - -The Reverend Smith Boyd wasted not a minute in purposeless hesitation or -idle preliminary conversation. - -“Gail!” he said, in a voice which chimed of all the love songs ever -written, which vibrated with all the love passion ever breathed, which -pleaded with the love appeal of all the dominant forces since creation. -Gail had resumed her seat on the end of the piano bench, and now he -reached down and took her hand, and held it, unresisting. She was weak -and limp, and she averted her eyes from the burning gaze which beamed -down on her. Her breath was fluttering, and the hand which lay in her -lap was cold and trembling. “Gail, I love you!” He bent his head and -kissed her hand. The touch was fire, and she felt her blood leap to it. -“Gail dear,” and his voice was like the suppressed crescendo of a -tremendous organ flute; “I come to you with the love of a man. I come to -you with the love of one inspired to do great deeds, not just to lay -them at your feet, but because you are in the world!” He bent lower, and -tried to gaze into the brown eyes under those fluttering lashes. He held -her hand more tightly to him, clasped it to his breast, oppressed her -with the tremendous desire of his whole being to draw her to him, and -hold her close, as one and a part of him for all time to come, mingling -and merging them into one ecstatic harmony. “Gail! Oh, Gail, Gail!” - -There was a cry in that repetition of her name, almost an anguish. She -stole an upward glance at him, her face pale, her beautiful lips half -parted, and in her depthless brown eyes, alive now with a new light -which had been born within her, there was no forbiddance, though she -dropped them hastily, and bent her head still lower. She had made -herself an eternal part of him just then, had he but seized upon that -unspoken assent, and taken her in his arms, and breathed to her of the -love of man for woman, the love that never dies nor wavers nor falters, -so long as the human race shall endure. - -He bent still closer to her, so that he all but enfolded her. His warm -breath was upon her cheek. The sympathy which was between them bridged -the narrow chasm of air, and enveloped them in an ethereal flame which -coursed them from head to foot, and had already nigh welded them into -one. - -“I need you, Gail!” he told her. “I need you to be my wife, my -sweetheart, my companion. I need you to go with me through life, to walk -hand in hand with me about the greatest work in the world, the -redemption of the fallen and helpless, into whose lives we may shed some -of the beauty which blossoms in our own.” - -There was a low cry from Gail, a cry which was half a sob, which came -with a sharp intake of the breath, and carried with it pain and sorrow -and protest. She had been so happy, in what she fancied to be the near -fulfilment of the promptings which had grown so strong within her. No -surge of emotion like this had ever swept over her; no such wave of -yearning had ever carried her impetuously up and out of herself as this -had done. It had been the ecstatic answer to all her dreams, the ripe -and rich and perfect completion of every longing within her; yet, in the -very midst of it had come a word which broke the magic thrall; a thought -which had torn the fairy web like a rude storm from out the icy north; a -devouring genii which, dark and frightening, advanced to destroy all the -happiness which might follow this first inrushing commingling of these -two perfectly correlated elements! - -“I can’t!” she breathed, but she did not withdraw her hand from his -clasp. She could not! It was as if those two palms had welded together, -and had become parts of one and the same organism. - -There was an instant of silence, in which she slowly gathered her -swirling senses, and in which he sat, shocked, stunned, disbelieving his -own ears. Why, he had known, as positively, and more positively, than if -she had told him, that there was a perfect response in her to the great -desire which throbbed within him. It had come to him from her like the -wavering of soft music, music which had blended with his own pulsing -diapason in a melody so subtle that it drowned the senses to languorous -swooning; it had come to him with the delicate far-off pervasiveness of -the birth of a new star in the heavens; it had come to him as a -fragrance, as a radiance, as the beautiful tints of spring blossoms, as -something infinitely stronger, and deeper, and sweeter, than the sleep -of death. That tremendous and perfect fitness and accord with him he -felt in her hand even now. - -“I can’t, Tod,” she said again, and neither one noticed that she had -unconsciously used the name she had heard from his mother, and which she -had unconsciously linked with her thoughts of him. “There could never be -a unity of purpose in us,” and now, for the first time, she gently -withdrew her hand. “I could never be in sympathy with your work, nor you -with my views. Have you noticed that we have never held a serious -dispute over any topic but one?” - -He drew a chair before her, and took her hand again, but this time he -patted it between his own as if it were a child’s. - -“Gail, dear, that is an obstacle which will melt away. There was a time -when I felt as you do. The time will come when you, too, will change.” - -“You don’t understand,” she gently told him. “I believe in God the -Creator; the Maker of my conscience; my Friend and my Father. I am in no -doubt, no quandary, no struggle between faith and disbelief. I see my -way clearly, and there are no thorns to cut for me. I shall never -change.” - -He looked at her searchingly for a moment, and then his face grew grave; -but there was no coldness in it, nor any alteration in the blueness of -his eyes. - -“I shall pray for you,” he said, with simple faith. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - THE PUBLIC IS AROUSED - - -Clad in her filmy cream lace gown, Gail walked slowly into her boudoir, -and closed the door, and sank upon her divan. She did not stop to-night -to let down her hair and change to her dainty negligee, nor to -punctiliously straighten the room, nor to turn on the beautiful green -light; instead, with all the electric bulbs blazing, she sat with her -chin in her hand, and, with her body perfectly in repose, tried to study -the whirl of her mind. - -She was shaken, she knew that, shaken and stirred as she had never been -before. Something in the depths of her had leaped up into life, and -cried out in agony, and would not stop crying until it was satisfied. - -The hardest part of the whirl from which to untangle herself was the -tremendous overwhelming attraction there had been between them. The red -wave of consciousness rose up over her neck and crimsoned her cheeks and -flushed her very brow, as the nearness of him came back to her. Again -she could feel that marvellous welding of their palms, the tingle of her -shoulder where he had accidentally brushed against it; the music of his -voice, which had set up that ecstatic answering vibration within her. -She felt again his warm breath upon her cheek, the magnetic thrill of -his arms as he enfolded her, the breathless joy which had ensued when he -had drawn her to his breast, and held and held and held her there, as an -indivisible part of him, forever and forever. The burning pressure of -his lips upon hers! That breathless, intolerable ecstasy when he had -folded her closer, and still closer! A sense of shame flooded her that -she had yielded so much, that she had been so helpless in the might and -the strength and the sweep— - -She raised her head with a jerk, and rubbed her hands over her eyes. Why -there had been no such episode! He had not folded her in his arms, nor -drawn her to him, nor kissed her lips; though her breath was fluttering -and her wrists burning in the bare memory of it; he had only drawn quite -near to her, and held her hand; and once he had kissed it! How then had -she reproduced all these sensations so vividly? Then indeed, shame came -to her, as she realised how much more completely than he could know, she -had, in one breathless instant, given herself to him! - -It was that shame which came to her rescue, which set her upon her -defence, which started her to the seeking for her justification. She had -refused him, even at the very height of her most intense yielding. And -why? She must go deeper into the detail of that. She had to grope her -way slowly and painfully back through the quivering maze of her senses, -to recall the point at which she had been taken rudely from the present -into the future. - -“I need you to walk hand in hand with me about the greatest work in the -world!” That was it; the greatest work in the world! And what was that -work? To live and teach ritual in place of religion; to turn worship -into a social observance; to use helpless belief as a ladder of -ambition; to reduce faith to words, and hope to a recitation, and -charity to an obligation; to make pomp and ceremony a substitute for -conscience, and to interpose a secretary between the human heart and -God! - -For just an instant Gail’s eyelids dropped, her long brown lashes curved -upon her cheeks, while beneath them her eyes glinted, and a smile -touched the corners of her lips; then she was serious again. No, she had -decided wisely. They could not spend a lifetime in the ecstasy of touch. -Between those rare moments of the rapture of love must come stern hours -of waking. Then she must live a constant lie, she must battle down her -own ideals and her own thoughts and her own worship and subscribe to a -dead shell of pretence, which she had come to hold in contempt and even -loathing. She must appear constantly before the world as subscribing to -and upholding a sham which had been formulated as thoroughly as the -multiplication table; and to do all these things she would be compelled -to throttle her own dear Deity, with whom she had been friends since her -babyhood, to whom she could go at any hour with pure faith and simple -confidence; always in love and never in fear! - -Yes, she had chosen wisely. Through all the years to come there would be -clash upon clash, until they would grow so far apart spiritually that no -human yearning, no matter how long nor how strong, could bridge the -chasm. She was humiliated to be compelled to confess to herself that the -tremendous fire which had consumed them, that the tremendous attraction -which had drawn them together, that the tremendous ecstasy which had -enveloped them, was by no means of the soul or the spirit or the mind. -And yet, how potent that attraction had been, how it left her still -quivering with longing. Did she despise that tendency in herself? -Something within her answered defiantly “No!” Still defiantly, she -exulted in it; for many instincts which the Creator has planted in -humanity have been made sinful by teaching alone. Moreover, a further -search brought a deserved approbation to the rescue of her self-respect. -Mighty as had been the call upon her from without and from within, she -had resisted it, and driven it back, and leashed it firmly with the -greater strength of her faith! She gloried that she had not been weak in -this stormy test, and her eyes softened with a smile of gratitude. Poor -Tod! - -There was a knock on the door, and Gail smiled again as she said: - -“Come in.” - -Mrs. Helen Davies entered, tall and stately in her boudoir frills and -ruffles. She gazed searchingly at Gail’s now calm face, with its -delicately tinted oval cheeks and its curved red lips and its brown -eyes, into which a measure of peace had come. The face did not tell her -as much as she had expected to find in it, but the fact that Gail had so -far deviated from her unbreakable habit of piling into a negligee and -putting every minute trace of disorder to rights before she did anything -else, was sufficient indication that something unusual had occurred. -Aunt Helen sat down in front of Gail and prepared to enact the rôle of -conscientious mother. - -“Doctor Boyd proposed to you to-night,” she charged, with affectionate -authority. - -“Yes, Aunt Helen,” and Gail began to pull pins out of her hair. - -A worried expression crossed the brow of Aunt Helen. - -“Did you accept him?” and she fairly quivered with anxiety. - -“No, Aunt Helen.” Quite calmly, piling more hairpins and still more into -the little tray by her side, and shaking down her rippling waves of -hair. - -Aunt Helen sighed a deep sigh of relief, and smiled her approval. - -“I was quite hopeful that you would not,” and the tone was one of -distinct pleasure. “Doctor Boyd is a most estimable young man, but I -should not at all consider him a desirable match for you.” - -Gail walked across to her dressing table, and rang for her maid. -Something within her flared up in defence of Tod, but the face which, an -instant later, she turned toward the older woman, had its eyelids down -and the eyes glinting through that curving fringe and the little smile -at the corners of the lips. - -“Of course, he is perfectly eligible,” went on Aunt Helen, studying the -young man in question much as if he were on the auction block, and -guaranteed sound in every limb. “While there would be no possibility of -gaiety, and no freedom of action for even an instant, with the eyes of -every one so critically fixed on a rector’s wife, still she would have -the entrée into the most exclusive circles, and would have a social -position of such dignified respectability as could be secured in no -other way.” Interested in her own analysis, and perfectly placid -because, after all, Gail had refused him, she did not notice that Gail, -now brushing her hair, stopped in the middle of a downward stroke, and -then fell to brushing furiously. “Moreover, the young man is highly -ambitious,” went on Aunt Helen. “The movement for the magnificent new -cathedral had lagged for years before he came; but he had not been here -twelve months before he had the entire congregation ambitious to build -the most magnificent cathedral the world has ever seen. My dear child, -you’ll break your hair with that rough brushing! Moreover, the new -rectory must, of course, be built in keeping with the cathedral, and no -multi-millionaire could erect a home more palatial than Doctor Boyd will -occupy.” - -Gail unfastened her necklace. - -“However, Gail dear, you have shown a degree of carefulness which I am -delighted to find in you,” complimented Aunt Helen. “If you handle all -your affairs so sensibly, you have a brilliant future before you.” - -“I must be an awful worry to you, Aunt Helen,” observed Gail, and -walking over, she slipped her arm around Mrs. Davies’ neck, and kissed -her, and looked around for her chocolate box. - -Gail’s maid came in, and Mrs. Davies bade her sister’s niece good-night -most cordially, and retired with a great load off her mind; and half an -hour later the lights in Gail’s pretty little suite went out. - -If she lay long hours looking out at the pale stars, if, in the midst of -her calm logic, she suddenly buried her face in her pillows and sobbed -silently, if, toward morning, she awoke with a little cry to find her -face and her hands hot, all these things were but normal and natural. It -is enough to know that she came to her breakfast bright-eyed and -rosy-cheeked and smiling with the pleasant greetings of the day, and -picked up the papers casually, and lit upon the newest sensation of the -free and entirely uncurbed metropolitan press! - -The free and entirely uncurbed metropolitan press had found Vedder -Court, and had made it the sudden focus of the public eye. Those few who -were privileged to know intimately the workings of that adroit master of -the public welfare, Tim Corman, could have recognised clearly his fine -hand in the blaze of notoriety which obscure Vedder Court had suddenly -received. After having endured the contamination and contagion of the -Market Square Church tenements for so many years, the city had, all at -once, discovered that the condition was unbearable! The free and -entirely uncurbed metropolitan press had taken up, with great -enthusiasm, the work of poking the finger of scorn at Vedder Court. It -had published photographs of the disreputable old sots of buildings, -and, where they did not seem to drip enough, the artists had retouched -them. It had sent budding young Poes and Dickenses down there to write -up the place in all the horrors which a lurid fancy could portray, or a -hectic mind conceive; and it had given special prominence to the -masterly effort of one litterateur, who never went near the place, but, -after dancing ably until three A.M., had dashed up to his lonely room, -and had wrapped a wet towel around his head, and had conceived of the -scene as it would look in absolute darkness, with one pale lamp gleaming -on the Doréian faces of the passersby! It had sent the sob sisters there -in shoals to interview the down-trodden, and, above all things, it had -put prominently before the public eye the immense profit which Market -Square Church wrung from this organised misery! - -Gail turned sick at heart as she read. Uncle Jim permitted four morning -papers to come to the house, and the dripping details, with many -variations, were in all of them. She glanced over toward the rectory and -the dignified old church standing beyond it, with mingled indignation -and humiliation. A sort of ignominy seemed to have descended upon it, -like a man whose features seem coarsened from the instant he is doomed -to wear prison stripes; and the fact which she particularly resented was -that a portion of the disgrace of Market Square Church seemed to have -descended upon her. She could not make out why this should be; but it -was. Aunt Grace Sargent, bustling about to see that Gail was supplied -with more kinds of delicacies than she could possibly sample, saw that -unmistakable look of distress on Gail’s face, and went straight up to -her sister Helen, the creases of worry deep in her brow. - -Mrs. Helen Davies was having her coffee in bed, and she continued that -absorbing ceremony while she considered her sister’s news. - -“I did not think that Gail was so deeply affected by the occurrences of -last night,” she mused; “but of course she could not sleep, and she’s -full of sympathy this morning, and afraid that maybe she made a mistake, -and feels perfectly wretched.” - -Grace Sargent sat right down. - -“Did the rector propose?” she breathlessly inquired. - -Mrs. Davies poured herself some more hot coffee, and nodded. - -“She refused him.” - -“Oh!” and acute distress settled on Grace Sargent’s brow, with such a -firm clutch that it threatened to homestead the location. Mrs. Sargent -shared the belief of the Reverend Smith Boyd’s mother, that Smith Boyd -was the finest young man in the world; and Gail’s aunt was speechless -with dismay and disappointment. - -“I have ceased to worry about Gail’s future,” went on Mrs. Davies -complacently. “It is her present condition about which I am most -concerned. She is so conscientious and self-analytical that she may -distress herself over this affair, and I must get in Arly and Lucile, -and plan a series of gaieties which will keep her mind occupied from -morning until night.” - -In consequence of this kindly decision, Gail was plunged into gaiety -until she loathed the scrape of a violin! The mere fact that she had no -time to think did not remove the fact that she had a great deal to think -about, and the gaiety only added dismally to her troubled burden. - -Meanwhile, the free and entirely uncurbed metropolitan press went -merrily onward with its righteous Vedder Court crusade, until it had the -public indignation properly aroused. The public indignation rose to such -a pitch that it almost meant something. There is not the slightest doubt -that, if the public had not been busy with affairs of its own, and if it -had not been in the habit of leaving everything to be seen to by the -people financially interested, and if it had not consisted chiefly of a -few active vocal cords, there is not the slightest doubt, it is worth -repeating, that the public might have done something about Vedder Court! -As things were, it grew most satisfactorily indignant. It talked of -nothing else, in the subways and on the “L’s” and on the surface lines, -and on the cindery commuter trains; and on the third day of the -agitation, before something else should happen to shake the populace to -the very foundation of its being, the city authorities condemned the -Vedder Court property as unsanitary, inhuman, and unsafe, as a menace to -the public morals, health and life, and as a blot upon civilisation; -this last being a fancy touch added by Tim Corman himself, who, in his -old age, had a tendency to link poetry to his practicability. In -consequence of this decision, the city authorities ordered Vedder Court -to be forthwith torn down, demolished, and removed from the face of the -earth; thereby justifying, after all, the existence of the free and -entirely uncurbed metropolitan press! The exact psychological moment had -been chosen. The public, caught at the very height of its frenzy, -applauded, and ate its dinner in virtuous satisfaction; and Gail -Sargent’s distress crystallised into a much easier thing to handle; just -plain anger! - -And so Market Square Church had persisted in clutching its greedy hold -on a commercial advantage so vile that even a notoriously corrupt city -government had ordered it destroyed! Her mind was immensely relieved -about the Reverend Smith Boyd. She had chosen well, and wisely! - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - THE REV. SMITH BOYD PROTESTS - - -The doves which in summer flitted about the quiet little vestry yard, -and cooed over the vestry door, would have flown away had they been at -home; for it was a stormy affair, with loud voices and clashing wills -and a general atmosphere of tensity, which was somewhat at variance with -the red-robed figure of the Good Shepherd in the pointed window of the -vestry. The late arrival was Joseph G. Clark, and his eye sought that of -Banker Chisholm, before he nodded to the others and took his seat at the -Gothic table. The Reverend Smith Boyd, who was particularly straight and -tall to-day, and particularly in earnest, paused long enough for the -slight disturbance to subside, and then he finished his speech. - -“That is my unalterable position in the matter,” he declared. “If Market -Square Church has a mission, it is the responsibility for these -miserable human wrecks whom we have made our wards.” - -“We can’t feed and clothe them,” objected Banker Chisholm, whose white -mutton chops already glowed pink from the anger-reddened skin beneath. - -“It doesn’t pay to pauperise the people,” supplemented Willis -Cunningham, stroking his sparse Vandyke complacently. Cunningham, whose -sole relationship to economics consisted in permitting his secretary to -sign checks, had imbibed a few principles which sufficed for all -occasions. - -“I do not wish to pauperise them,” returned the rector. “I am willing to -accept the shame of having the city show Market Square Church its duty, -in exchange for the pleasure of replacing the foul tenements in Vedder -Court with clean ones.” - -Joseph G. Clark glanced again at Chisholm. - -“They’d be dirty again in ten years,” he observed. “If we build the new -type of sanitary tenement we shall have to charge more rent, or not make -a penny of profit; and we can’t get more rent because the people who -would pay it will not come into that neighbourhood.” - -“Are we compelled to make a profit?” retorted the rector. “Is it -necessary for Market Square Church to remain perpetually a commercial -landlord?” - -The vestry gazed at the Reverend Smith Boyd in surprised disapproval. -Their previous rector had talked like that, and the Reverend Smith Boyd -had been a great relief. - -“So long as the church has property at all, it will meet with that -persistent charge,” argued Chisholm. “It seems to me that we have had -enough of it. My own inclination would be to sell the property outright, -and take up slower, but less personal, forms of investment.” - -Old Nicholas Van Ploon, sitting far enough away to fold his hands -comfortably across his tight vest, screwed his neck around so that he -could glare at the banker. - -“No,” he objected; for the Van Ploon millions had been accumulated by -the growth of tall office buildings out of a worthless Manhattan swamp. -“We should never sell the property.” - -“There are a dozen arguments against keeping it,” returned the nasal -voice of old Joseph G. Clark. “The chief one is the necessity of making -a large investment in these new tenements.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd rose again, shutting the light from the red robe -of the Good Shepherd out of quietly concentrated Jim Sargent’s eyes. - -“I object to this entire discussion,” he stated. “We have a moral -obligation which forbids us to discuss matters of investment and profit -within these walls as if we were a lard trust. We have neglected our -moral obligation in Vedder Court, until we are as blackened with sin as -the thief on the cross.” - -Shrewd old Rufus Manning looked at the young rector curiously. He was -puzzled over the change in him. - -“Don’t swing the pendulum too far, Doctor Boyd,” Manning reminded him, -with a great deal of kindliness. These two had met often in Vedder -Court. “Our sins, such as they are, are more passive than active.” - -It was, of course, old Nicholas Van Ploon who fell back again on the -stock argument which had been quite sufficient to soothe his conscience -for all these years. - -“We give these people cheaper rent than they can find anywhere in the -city.” - -“We should continue to do so, but in cleaner and more wholesome -quarters,” quickly returned the rector. “This is the home of all these -poverty stricken people whom Market Square Church has taken under its -shelter, and we have no right to dispose of it.” - -“That’s what I say,” and Nicholas Van Ploon nodded his round head. “We -should not sell the property.” - -“We can not for shame, if for nothing else,” agreed the rector, seizing -on every point of advantage to support his intense desire to lift the -Vedder Court derelicts from the depth of their degradation. “We lie now -under the disgrace of having owned property so filthy that the city was -compelled to order it torn down. The only way in which we can redeem the -reputation of Market Square Church is to replace those tenements with -better ones, and conduct them as a benefit to the people rather than to -our own pockets.” - -“That’s a clever way of putting it,” commended Jim Sargent. “It’s time -we did something to get rid of our disgrace,” and he was most earnest -about it. He had been the most uncomfortable of all these vestrymen in -the past few days; for the disgrace of Market Square Church had been a -very reliable topic of conversation in Gail Sargent’s neighbourhood. - -The nasal voice of smooth-shaven old Joseph G. Clark drawled into the -little silence which ensued. - -“What about the Cathedral?” he asked, and the hush which followed was -far deeper than the one which he had broken. Even the Reverend Smith -Boyd was driven to some fairly profound thought. His bedroom and his -study were lined with sketches of the stupendously beautiful cathedral, -the most expensive in the world, in which he was to disseminate the -gospel. - -“Suppose we come back to earth,” resumed Clark, who had built the -Standard Cereal Company into a monopoly of all the breadstuffs by that -process. “If we rebuild we set ourselves back in the cathedral project -ten years. You can’t wipe out what you call our disgrace, even if you -give all these paupers free board and compulsory baths. My proposition -is to telephone for Edward E. Allison, and tell him we’re ready to -accept his offer.” - -“Not while I’m a member of this vestry,” declared Nicholas Van Ploon, -swivelling himself to defy Joseph G. Clark. “We don’t sell the -property.” - -“I put Mr. Clark’s proposition as a motion,” jerked W. T. Chisholm, and -in the heated argument which ensued, the Good Shepherd in the window, -taking advantage of the shifting sun, removed from the room the light of -the red robe. - -In the end, the practical minded members won over the sentimentalists, -if Nicholas Van Ploon could be classed under that heading, and Allison -was telephoned. Before they were through wrangling over the decision to -have him meet them, Allison was among them. One might almost have -thought that he had been waiting for the call; but he exchanged no more -friendly glances with Clark and Chisholm, of the new International -Transportation Company, than he did with any of the others. - -“Well, Allison, we’ve about decided to accept your offer for the Vedder -Court property,” stated Manning. - -“I haven’t made you any, but I’m willing,” returned Allison. - -Jim Sargent drew from his pocket a memorandum slip. - -“You offered us a sum which, at three and a half per cent., would -accrue, in ten years, to forty-two million dollars,” he reminded the -president of the Municipal Transportation Company. “That figures to a -spot-cash proposition of thirty-one millions, with a repeating decimal -of one; so somebody will have to lose a cent.” - -“That offer is withdrawn,” said Allison. - -“I don’t see why,” objected Jim Sargent. “The property is as valuable -for your purpose as it ever was.” - -“I don’t dispute that; but in that offer I allowed you for the income -earning capacity of your improved property. Since that capacity is -stopped, I don’t feel obliged to pay you for it, or, in other words, to -make up to you the loss which the city has compelled you to sustain.” - -“There is some show of reason in what Allison says,” observed Joseph G. -Clark. - -Chisholm leaned forward, with his elbows on the table, around the edge -of which were carved the heads of winged cherubs. - -“What is your present offer?” - -“Twenty-five million; cash.” - -“We refuse!” announced Nicholas Van Ploon, bobbing his round head -emphatically. - -“I’m not so sure that we do,” returned Clark. “I have been studying -property values in that neighbourhood, and I doubt if we can obtain -more.” - -“Then we don’t sell!” insisted Nicholas Van Ploon. - -“I scarcely think we wish to take up this discussion with Mr. Allison -until we have digested the offer,” observed the quiet voice of Manning, -and, on this hint, Allison withdrew. - -He smiled as he heard the voices which broke out in controversy the -moment he had closed the door behind him. Being so near, he naturally -called on Gail Sargent, and found her entertaining a little tea party of -the gayest and brightest whom Aunt Helen Davies could bring together. - -She came into the little reception “cosy” to meet Allison, smiling with -pleasure. There seemed to be a degree of wistfulness in her greeting of -her friends since the night of her return. - -“Of course I couldn’t overlook an opportunity to drop in,” said Allison, -shaking her by both hands, and holding them while he surveyed her -critically. There was a tremendous comfort in his strength. - -“So you only called because you were in the neighbourhood,” bantered -Gail. - -“Guilty,” he laughed. “I’ve just been paying attention to my religious -duties.” - -“I wasn’t aware that you knew you had any,” returned Gail, sitting in -the shadow of the window jamb. Allison’s eyes were too searching. - -“I attend a vestry meeting now and then,” he replied, and then he -laughed shortly. “I’d rather do business with forty corporations than -with one vestry. A church always expects to conduct its share of the -negotiations on a strictly commercial basis, while it expects you to -mingle a little charity with your end of the transactions.” - -“The Vedder Court property,” she guessed, with a slight contraction of -her brows. - -“Still after it,” said Allison, and talked of other matters. - -Jim Sargent returned, and glancing into the little reception tête-à-tête -as he passed, saw Allison and came back. - -“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” wondered Allison. - -“We broke up in a row,” laughed Jim Sargent. “Clark and Chisholm were -willing to accept your price, but the rest of us listened to Doctor Boyd -and Nicholas Van Ploon, and fell. We insist on our cathedral, and Doctor -Boyd’s plan seems the best way to get it, though even that may -necessitate a four or five years’ delay.” - -“What’s his plan?” asked Allison. - -“Rebuilding,” returned Sargent. “We can put up tenements good enough to -pass the building inspectors and to last fifteen years. With the same -rents we are now receiving, we can offer them better quarters, and, as -Doctor Boyd suggested, redeem ourselves from some of the disgrace of -this whole proceeding. Clever, sensible idea, I think.” - -Gail was leaning forward, with her fingers clasped around her knee; her -brown eyes had widened, and a little red spot had appeared in either -cheek; her red lips were half parted, as she looked up in wonder at her -Uncle Jim. - -“Is that the plan upon which they have decided?” and Allison looked at -his watch. - -“Well, hardly,” frowned Sargent. “We couldn’t swing Clark and Chisholm. -At the last minute they suggested that we might build lofts, and the -impending fracas seemed too serious to take up just now, so we’ve tabled -the whole thing.” - -Allison smiled, and slipped his watch back in his pocket. - -“It’s fairly definite, however, that you won’t sell,” he concluded. - -“Not at your figure,” laughed Sargent. “If we took your money, Doctor -Boyd would be too old to preach in the new cathedral.” - -“He’ll pull it through some way,” declared Allison. “He’s as smart as a -whip.” - -Neither gentleman had noticed Gail. She had settled back in her chair -during these last speeches, weary and listless, and overcome with a -sense of some humiliation too evasive to be properly framed even in -thought. She had a sense that she had given away something vastly -precious, and which would never be valued. Neither did they notice that -she changed suddenly to relief. She had been justified in her decision. - -She took the reins of conversation herself after Uncle Jim had left, and -entertained Allison so brightly that he left with impatience at the tea -party which monopolised her. - -Later, when the Reverend Smith Boyd dropped in, he met with a surprising -and disconcerting vivacity. In his eyes there was pain and suffering, -and inexpressible hunger, but in hers there was only dancing frivolity; -a little too ebullient, perhaps, if he had been wise enough to know; but -he was not. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - A SERIES OF GAIETIES - - -Gaiety consists in rising in the morning so tired that it takes three -hours of earnest work with a maid, a masseuse, a physical directress, a -hairdresser, and a bonnetiere, before one can produce a spontaneous -silvery laugh, which is never required, expected or considered good form -before two P.M. Gail Sargent went in for gaiety, and, moreover, she -enjoyed it. She rode, she drove, she went calling and received, she -attended teas and gave them, she dined out and entertained, in the name -of her eager Aunt Grace, she went to theatres, the opera, concerts, and -the lively midnight cafés, which had all gone nervously insane with -freak dancing, she attended balls, house parties, and all the in-between -diversions which her novelty-seeking friends could discover or invent, -and she flirted outrageously! She used her eyes, and the pretty pout of -her red lips, and the toss of her head, and all the wiles of coquetry, -to turn men into asses, and she enjoyed that, too! It was a part of her -feminine birthright to enter with zest into this diversion, and it was -only envy which criticised her. Aunt Helen Davies, who knew her world by -chapter and verse, stood behind the scenes of all this active -vaudeville, and applauded. It was at the opera that Aunt Helen could no -longer conceal her marvel. - -“My dear,” she said, under cover of the throbbing music of Thais, “I -have never seen anything like you!” - -“I don’t quite know whether to take that as a compliment or not,” -laughed Gail, who had even, in her new stage of existence, learned to -pay no attention to music. - -“The remark was not only intended to be complimentary, but positively -gushing,” replied Aunt Helen, returning with a smile the glance of their -hostess, the stiff Miss Van Ploon. “After two weeks of the gayest season -I have ever witnessed, you are as fresh and vivacious as when you -started.” - -“It’s a return to first principles,” stated Gail, considering the matter -seriously. “I’ve discovered the secret of success in New York, either -commercial or social. It is to have an unbreakable constitution.” - -The dapper little marquis, who was laying a very well conducted siege -for the heart and hand of Miss Van Ploon, leaned over Gail’s velvet -shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Gail leaned back a trifle -to answer him, her deep brown eyes flashing up at him, her red lips -adorably curved, that delicate colour wavering in her cheeks; and Mrs. -Davies, disregarding entirely the practised luring of the dapper little -marquis, who was as harmless as a canary bird, viewed Gail with -admiration. - -Houston Van Ploon, surveying Gail with pride, made up his mind about a -problem which he had been seriously considering. Gail Sargent, taken -point by point, appearance, charm, manner, disposition and health, had -the highest percentage of perfection of any young woman he had ever met, -an opinion in which his father and sister had agreed, after several -solemn family discussions. - -Nicholas Van Ploon leaned over to his daughter. - -“She has dimples,” he catalogued, nodding his round head in satisfaction -and clasping his hands comfortably over his broad white evening -waistcoat. - -Dick Rodley irrupted into the box with Lucile and Arly, just as Thais -started for the convent, and they were only the forerunners of a -constant stream which, during the intermission, came over to laugh with -Gail, and to look into her sparkling eyes, and exchange repartee with -her, and enjoy that beauty which was like a fragrance. - -Who was the most delighted person in the Van Ploon box? Aunt Helen -Davies! She checked off the eligibles, counting them, estimating them, -judging the exact degree in which Gail had interested them, and the -exact further degree Gail might interest them if she chose. - -Gail, standing, was a revelation to-night, not alone to Nicholas Van -Ploon, who nearly dislocated his neck in turning to feast his gaze on -her in numb wonder, but to Aunt Helen herself. Gail wore an Egyptian -costume, an absurdly straight thing fashioned like a cylinder, but -which, in some mysterious and alluring way, suggested the long, slender, -gracefully curving lines which it concealed. The foundation colour was -tarnished gold, on which were beaded panels in dark blue stones, touched -here and there with dull red. Encircling her small head was an Egyptian -tiara, studded in the front with lapis lazuli and deep red corals, with -one great fire opal glowing in the centre; and her shining brown hair -was waved well below the ears, and smoothly caught under around the back -of her perfect neck. On her cheeks and on her lips were the beautiful -natural tints which were the envy and despair of every pair of lorgnette -shielded eyes, but on her eyelashes, as part of her costume, Gail had -daringly lined a touch of that intense black which is ground in the -harems of the old Nile. - -“You’re the throb of the evening, sweetheart,” Dick Rodley laughed down -at her, as they stood at the door of the box with the function passing -in and out. - -“Thank you, Dicky dear,” she responded, smiling up at him. Since her -earnest gaieties had begun, Dick had been her most frequent companion. -He was one of the component members of that zestful little set composed -of Gail, Lucile and Arly, and the bubbling little Mrs. Babbitt, the -cherub-cheeked Marion Kenneth, the entirely sophisticated Gwen Halstead, -and whatever nice men happened to be available. Dick and Ted and Gerald -were, of course, always available. - -“I’m disappointed,” complained Dick. “You don’t blush any more when I am -affectionate with you.” - -“One loses the trick here,” she laughed. “The demands are too frequent.” - -He bent a little closer to her. - -“I’m going to propose to you again to-night,” he told her. - -“You’re so satisfactory,” she returned carelessly. “But really, Dicky, I -don’t see how you’re going to manage it, unless you perform it right -here, and that’s so conventional.” - -“Play hooky,” he mischievously advised. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. -You shoo Houston out of the house the minute you get in; then Lucile and -Ted and Arly and Gerald and I will sail up and carry you off to supper, -after which I’ll take you home and propose.” - -Gail’s eyes snapped with the activity of that disloyal programme, and -the little silvery laugh, for which she had been so noted, welled up -from her throat. - -“You have to wait around the corner until he goes away,” she insisted. - -“I’ll bring a guitar if you like,” Dick promised, with so much avidity -that she feared, for an instant, that he might do it. - -“You’re monopolising me scandalously,” she protested. “Go away,” and she -turned immediately to the dapper little marquis, who was enduring the -most difficult evening of his life. Gail was so thoroughly adapted to a -grand affair, one in which he could avow universes; and the Miss Van -Ploon was so exacting. - -The study door was open when Houston Van Ploon sedately escorted Mrs. -Davies and Gail into the library, one of those rooms which appoint -themselves the instinctive lounging places of all family intimates. Gail -turned up her big eyes in sparkling acknowledgment as the punctilious -Van Ploon took her cloak, and, at that moment, as she stood gracefully -poised, she caught the gaze of the Reverend Smith Boyd fixed on her with -such infinite longing that it distressed her. She did not want him to -suffer. - -Uncle Jim strode out with a hearty greeting, and, at the sound of the -voices of no one but Gail and Mrs. Davies and Houston Van Ploon, old -“Daddy” Manning appeared in the doorway, followed by the rector. - -“The sweetest flower that blows in any dale,” quoted “Daddy” Manning, -patting Gail’s hand affectionately. - -The rector stood by, waiting to greet her, after Manning had monopolised -her a selfish moment, and the newly aroused eye of colour in him seized -upon the gold and blue and red of her straight Egyptian costume, and -recognised in them a part of her endless variety. The black on her -lashes. He was close enough to see that; and he marvelled at himself -that he could not disapprove. - -Gail was most uncomfortably aware of him in this nearness; but she -turned to him with a frank smile of friendship. - -“This looks like a conspiracy,” she commented, glancing towards the -study, which was thick with smoke. - -“It’s an offensively innocent one,” returned Manning, giving the rector -but small chance. “We’re discussing the plans for the new Vedder Court -tenements.” - -“Oh!” observed Gail, and radiated a distinct chill, whereupon the -Reverend Smith Boyd, divesting himself of some courteous compliment, -exchanged inane adieus with Mrs. Davies and young Van Ploon, and took -his committee back into the study. - -Mrs. Davies remained but a moment or so. She even seemed eager to -retire, and as she left the library, she cast a hopeful backward glance -at the dancing-eyed Gail and the correct young Van Ploon, who, with his -Dutch complexion and his blonde English moustache and his stalwart -American body, to say nothing of his being a Van Ploon, represented to -her the ideal of masculine perfection. He was an eligible who never did -anything a second too early or a second too late, or deviated by one -syllable from the exact things he should say. - -If the anxious Aunt Helen had counted on any important results from this -evening’s opportunities, she had not taken into her calculations the -adroitness of Gail. In precisely five minutes Van Ploon was on the -doorstep, with his Inverness on his shoulders and his silk hat in his -hand, without even having approached the elaborate introduction to -certain important remarks he had definitely decided to make. Gail might -not have been able to rid herself of him so easily, for he was a person -of considerable momentum, but he had rather planned to make a more -deliberate ceremony of the matter, impulsive opportunities not being in -his line of thought. - -A tall young man in an Inverness walked rapidly past the door while Van -Ploon was saying the correctly clever things in the way of adieu; and -shortly after she had closed the door on Van Ploon, a pebble struck the -side window of the library. Gail opened the window and looked out. Dick -Rodley stood just below, with his impossibly handsome face upturned to -the light, his black eyes shining with glee, his Inverness tossed -romantically back over one shoulder, and an imaginary guitar in his -hands. Up into the library floated the familiar opening strains of -Tosti’s Serenade, and the Reverend Smith Boyd glanced out through the -study door at the enticing figure of Gail, and knitted his brows in a -frown. - -“You absurd thing,” laughed Gail to the serenader. “No, you daren’t come -in,” and she vigorously closed the window. Laughing to herself, she -bustled into her wraps. - -“Here, where are you going?” called her Uncle Jim. - -“Hush!” she admonished him, peering, for a glowing moment, in the study -door, a vision of such disturbing loveliness that the Reverend Smith -Boyd, for the balance of the evening, saw, staring up at him from the -Vedder Court tenement sketches, nothing but eyes and lips and waving -brown hair, and delicately ovalled cheeks, their colour heightened by -the rolling white fur collar. “None of you must say a word about this,” -she gaily went on. “It’s an escapade!” and she was gone. - -Uncle Jim, laughing, but nevertheless intent upon his responsibilities, -grabbed her as she opened the front door, but on the step he saw Dick -Rodley, and, in the machine drawing up at the curb, Arly and Gerald and -Lucile and Ted, so he kissed Gail good-night, and passed her over to the -jovial Dick, and returned to the study to brag about her. - -Gaiety reigned supreme once more! Lights and music and dancing, the hum -of chatter and laughter, the bustle and confusion of the place, the -hilarity which brings a new glow to the cheek and sparkle to the eye, -and then home again in the crisp wintry air, and Dick following into the -house with carefree assurance. - -“Gracious, Dicky, you can’t come in!” protested Gail, with half -frowning, half laughing remonstrance. “It’s a fearful hour for calls.” - -“I’m a friend of the family,” insisted Dick, calmly closing the door -behind them and hanging his hat on the rack. He took Gail’s cloak and -threw off his Inverness. “I guess you’ve forgotten the programme.” - -“Oh, yes, the proposal,” remembered Gail. “Well, have it over with.” - -“All right,” he agreed, and taking her arm and tucking her shoulder -comfortably close to him, he walked easily with her back to the library. -Arrived there, he seated her on her favourite chair, and drew up another -one squarely in front of her. - -“I’m going to shock you to death,” he told her. “I’m going to propose -seriously to you.” - -Some laughing retort was on her lips, but she caught a look in his eyes -which suddenly stopped her. - -“I am very much in earnest about it, Gail,” and his voice bore the stamp -of deep sincerity. “I love you. I want you to be my wife.” - -“Dick,” protested Gail, and it was she who reached out and placed her -hand in his. The action was too confidingly frank for him to mistake it. - -“I was afraid you’d think that way about it,” he said, his voice full of -a pain of which they neither one had believed him capable. “This is the -first time I ever proposed, except in fun, and I want to make you take -me seriously. Gail, I’ve said so many pretty things to you, that now, -when I am in such desperate earnest, there’s nothing left but just to -try to tell you how much I love you; how much I want you!” He stopped, -and, holding her hand, patting it gently with unconscious tenderness, he -gazed earnestly into her eyes. His own were entirely without that -burning glow which he had, for so long, bestowed on all the young and -beautiful. They were almost sombre now, and in their depth was an humble -wistfulness which made Gail’s heart flow out to him. - -“I can’t, Dick,” she told him, smiling affectionately at him. “You’re -the dearest boy in the world, and I want you for my friend as long as we -live; for my very dear friend!” - -He studied her in silence for a moment, and then he put his hands on her -cheeks, and drew her gently towards him. Still smiling into his eyes, -she held up her lips, and he kissed her. - -“I’d like to say something jolly before I go,” he said as he rose; “but -I can’t seem to think of it.” - -Gail laughed, but there was a trace of moisture in her eyes as she took -his arm. - -“I’d like to help you out, Dicky, but I can’t think of it either,” she -returned. - -She was crying a little when she went up the stairs, and her mood was -not even interrupted by the fact that Aunt Helen’s door was ajar, and -that Aunt Helen stood just behind the crack. - -“Why, child, that Egyptian black is running,” was Aunt Helen’s first -observation. - -Gail dabbed hastily at the two tiny rivulets which had hesitated at the -curve of her pink cheeks, and then she put her head on Aunt Helen’s -shoulder, and wept softly. - -“Poor Dicky,” she explained, and then turning, disappeared into her own -room. - -Mrs. Helen Davies looked after her speculatively for a moment; but she -decided not to follow. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - THE MAKER OF MAPS - - -There began to be strange new stirrings in the world. Money! From the -land which was its home and place of abode it leaned over cross the wide -seas, and made potent whisperings in the ears of the countries where -money is despised and held vulgar. They all listened. The particular -potency lay in the fact that the money was so big, which took away -tremendously from its despicableness and its vulgarity. - -A black-bearded Grand Duke from the wide land of the frozen seas humbled -himself to plain Ivan Strolesky at the sound of that whisper, and -hurried westward. A high dignitary of an empire upon which the sun never -sets, hid his title under a plebeian nom de plume, and stalked stolidly -away westward to that whisper of despised American money. From the land -of fashion, from the land of toys, from the land of art and music, from -the land of cherry blossoms, from the land of the drowsing drug, from -the land of the flashing jewels, from the lands of the burning sands and -the lands of the midnight sun, there came the highest of power; and they -all, light and swarth, and bearded and smooth, and large and small, and -robed and trousered, centred toward the city of strong men, and, one by -one, presented themselves, in turn, to a grave and silent kinky-haired -old darky by the name of Ephraim. - -One motive alone had dragged them over sterile plains and snowy -mountains and bounding seas; the magic whisper of Money! - -Through Ephraim they came to the stocky, square-standing, square-faced -chess player who was called Allison. They found him pleasant, agreeable, -but hardly of their class. He was so forceful as to be necessarily more -or less crude, and he had an unpleasant fashion of waving aside all the -decent little pretences about money. That was the fault of this whole -rude country, where luxury had been brought to the greatest refinement -ever known in the history of the world; it was so devoted to money, and -the cultured gentlemen did their best to get all they could. - -To Ivan Strolesky Allison was frank and friendly, for there was -something in the big Russian which was different from these others, so -he hastened to have business out of the way. - -“Here are your lines,” he said, spreading down a map which had been -brought up-to-date by hand. “The ones I want are checked in blue. The -others I do not care for.” - -The Grand Duke looked them over with a keen eye. - -“I am rather disappointed,” he confessed in excellent English. “I had -understood that you wished to control our entire railway system.” - -“I do,” assented Allison; “but I don’t wish to pay out money for them -all. If I can acquire the lines I have marked, the others will be -controlled quite easily from the fact that I shall have the only -outlet.” - -The Grand Duke, who had played poker in America and fan-tan in China and -roulette in Monte Carlo, and all the other games throughout the world, -smiled with his impressive big eyes, and put his hand up under his -beard. - -“The matter then seems to resolve itself into a question of price,” he -commented. - -“No; protection,” responded Allison. “If I were buying these railroads -outright, I should expect my property interests to be guarded, even if I -had to appeal to international equity; but I am not.” - -“No,” admitted the Grand Duke. “They can not be purchased.” - -“The proposition resolves itself then into a matter of virtual -commercial seizure,” Allison pointed out. - -The Grand Duke, still with his hand in his beard, chuckled, as he -regarded Allison amusedly. - -“I shall not mind if you call it piracy,” he observed. “We, in Russia, -must collect our revenues as we can, and we are nearly as frank as -Americans about it. Returning to your matter of protection. I shall -admit that the only agreement upon which we can secure what you want, -would not hold in international equity; and, in consequence, the only -protection I can give you is my personal word that you will not be -molested in anything which you wish to do, providing it is pleasant to -myself and those I represent.” - -“Then we’ll make it an annual payment,” decided Allison, putting away -some figures he had prepared. “We’ll make it a sliding scale, increasing -each year with the earnings.” - -The Grand Duke considered that proposition gravely, and offered an -amendment. - -“After the first year,” he said. “We shall begin with a large bonus, -however.” - -Allison again put out of his mind certain figures he had prepared to -suggest. Apparently the Grand Duke needed a large supply of immediate -cash, and the annual payments thereafter would need to be decreased -accordingly, with still another percentage deducted for profit on the -Duke’s necessities. - -“Let us first discuss the bonus,” proposed Allison, and quite amicably -they went into the arrangement, whereby Ivan Strolesky filched the only -valuable railroad lines in his country from the control of its present -graft-ridden possessors, and handed it over to the International -Transportation Company. - -“By the way,” said Allison. “How soon can we obtain possession?” - -Ivan Strolesky put his hand in his beard again, and reflected. - -“There is only one man who stands in the way,” he calculated. “He will -be removed immediately upon my return.” - -There was something so uncanny about this that even the practical and -the direct Allison was shocked for an instant, and then he laughed. - -“We have still much to learn from your country,” he courteously -confessed. - -When Ivan Strolesky had gone, Allison went to his globe and drew a -bright red line across the land of the frozen seas. - -There came a famous diplomat, a heavy blonde man with a red face and big -spectacles and a high, wide, round forehead. - -“I do not know what you want,” said the visitor, regarding Allison with -a stolid stare. “I have come to see.” - -“I merely wish to chat international politics,” returned Allison. “There -is an old-time feud between you and your neighbours to the west.” - -“That is history,” replied the visitor noncommittally. “We are now at -peace.” - -“Never peace,” denied Allison. “There will never be friendship between -phlegmatism and mercurialism. You might rest for centuries with your -neighbours to the west, but rest is not peace.” - -“Excuse me, but what do you mean?” and the visitor stared stolidly. - -“In your affairs of mutual relationship with the land to the west, there -are not less than a dozen causes upon which war could be started without -difficulty,” went on Allison. “In fact, you require perpetual diplomacy -to prevent war with that country.” - -The visitor locked his thick fingers quietly together and kept on -stolidly staring. - -“I hear what you say,” he admitted. - -“You are about to have a war,” Allison advised him. - -“I do not believe so,” and the visitor ponderously shook his head. - -“I am sorry to correct you, but you yourself will bring it about. You -will make, within a month, an unfortunate error of diplomatic judgment, -and your old strip of disputed territory will be alive with soldiers -immediately.” - -“No, it is not true,” and the visitor went so far, in his emphasis, as -to unlock his fingers and rest one hand on the back of the other. - -“I think I am a very fair prophet,” said Allison easily. “I have made -money by my prophecy. I have more money at my command at the present -time than any man in the world, than any government; wealth beyond -handling in mere currency. It can only be conveyed by means of checks. -Let me show you how easy it is to write them,” and drawing a blank book -to him, he wrote a check, and signed his name, and filled out the stub, -and tore it out, and handed it to the visitor for inspection. The -visitor was properly pleased with Allison’s ease in penmanship. - -“I see,” was the comment, and the check was handed back. He drew his -straight-crowned derby towards him. - -“I have made a mistake,” said Allison. “I have left off a cipher,” and -correcting this omission with a new check, he tore up the first one. - -“I see,” commented the visitor, and put the second check in his pocket. - -That had required considerable outlay, but when Allison was alone, he -went over to his globe and made another long red mark. - -A neat waisted man, with a goatee of carefully selected hairs and a -luxuriant black moustache, called on Allison, and laid down his hat and -his stick and his gloves, in a neat little pile, with separate jerks. He -jerked out a cigarette, he jerked out a match, and jerkily lit the -former with the latter. - -“I am here,” he said. - -“I am able to give you some important diplomatic news,” Allison advised -him. “Your country is about to have a war with your ancient enemy to the -east. It will be declared within a month.” - -“It will be finished in a week,” prophesied the neat waisted caller, his -active eyes lighting with pleasure. - -“Possibly,” admitted Allison. “I understand that your country is not in -the best of financial conditions to undertake a war, particularly with -that ancient enemy.” - -“The banking system of my country is patriotic,” returned the caller. -“Its only important banks are controlled under one system. I am the head -of that system. I am a patriot!” and he tapped himself upon the breast -with deep and sincere feeling. - -“How much revenue does your position yield you personally?” - -A shade of sadness crossed the brow of the neat waisted caller. - -“It does not yield you this much,” and Allison pushed toward him a -little slip of paper on which were inscribed some figures. - -The caller’s eyes widened as they read the sum. He smiled. He shrugged -his shoulders. He pushed back the slip of paper. - -“It is droll,” he laughed, and his laugh was nervous. He drew the slip -of paper towards him again with a jerky little motion, then pushed it -back once more. - -“If your banking system found it impossible to be patriotic, your -government would be compelled to raise money through other means. It -would not withdraw from the war.” - -“Never!” and the neat waisted caller once more touched himself on the -breast. - -“It would be compelled to negotiate a loan. If other governments, -through some understanding among their bankers, found it difficult to -provide this loan, your government would find it necessary to release -its ownership, or at least its control, of its most valuable commercial -possession.” - -The caller, who had followed Allison’s progressive statement with -interest, gave a quick little nod of his head. - -“That most valuable commercial possession,” went on Allison, “is the -state railways. You were convinced by my agent that there is a new and -powerful force in the world, or you would not be here. Suppose I point -out that it is possible to so cramp your banking system that you could -not help your country, if you would; suppose I show you that, in the -end, your ancient enemy will lose its identity, while your country -remains intact; suppose I show you that the course I have proposed is -the only way open which will save your country from annihilation? What -then?” - -The neat waisted caller, with the first slow motion he had used since he -came into the room, drew the slip of paper towards him again. - -There followed another banker, a ruddy-faced man whose heavy features -were utterly incapable of emotion; and he sat at Allison’s table in -thick-jowled solidity. - -“There are about to begin international movements of the utmost -importance,” Allison told him. “There is a war scheduled for next month, -which is likely to embroil the whole of Europe.” - -The banking gentleman nodded his head almost imperceptibly. - -“Mr. Chisholm advised me that your sources of information are -authentic,” he stated. “What you tell me is most deplorable.” - -“Quite,” agreed Allison. “I am informed that the company you represent -and manage has the practical direction of the entire banking system of -Europe, with the exception of one country. Besides this, you have -powerful interests, amounting very nearly to a monopoly, in Egypt, in -India, in Australia, and in a dozen other quarters of the globe.” - -“You seem to be accurately informed,” admitted the banking gentleman, -studying interestedly the glowing coals in Allison’s fireplace. - -“If I can show you how a certain attitude towards the international -complications which are about to ensue will be of immense advantage to -your banking system, as well as to the interests I represent, I have no -doubt that we can come to a very definite understanding.” - -The solidly jowled banking gentleman studied the glowing coals for two -minutes. - -“I should be interested in learning the exact details,” he finally -suggested. - -Allison drew some sheets of paper from an indexed file, and spread them -before the financier. It was largely a matter of credits in the -beginning, extensions here, curtailments there, and all on a scale so -gigantic that both gentlemen went over every item with the imaginative -minds of poets. In every line there was a vista of vast empires, of -toppling thrones, of altered boundaries, of such an endless and shifting -panorama of governmental forces, that the minds of men less inured to -the contemplation of commercial and political revolutions might have -grown fagged. On the third page, the solid banking gentleman, who had -not made a nervous motion since his grandfather was a boy, looked up -with a start. - -“Why, this affects my own country!” he exclaimed. “It affects our -enormous shipping interests, our great transportation lines, our -commercial ramifications in all parts of the globe! It cripples us on -the land and wipes us from the sea! It even affects my own government!” - -“Quite true,” admitted Allison. “However, I beg you to take notice that, -with the international complications now about to set in, your -government has reached its logical moment of disintegration. Your -colonies and dependencies are only waiting for your startlingly shrunken -naval and land forces to be embroiled in the first war which will -concentrate your fighting strength in one spot. When that occurs, you -will have revolutions on your hands in a dozen quarters of the globe, so -scattered that you can not possibly reach them. India will go first, for -she thirsts for more than independence. She wants blood. Your other -colonies will follow, and your great shipping interests, your -transportation lines, your commercial ramifications in all parts of the -globe, will be crushed and crumbled, for the foundation upon which they -rest has long ago fallen into decay. Your country! Your country is -already on the way to be crippled on the land and swept from the sea! I -know the forces which are at work; the mightiest forces which have ever -dawned on the world; the forces of twentieth century organised -commerce!” - -The banking gentleman drew a long breath. - -“What you predict may not come to pass,” he maintained, although the -secret information which had brought him to Allison had prepared him to -take every statement seriously. - -“I can show you proofs! The war which is to be started next month is -only the keystone of the political arch of the entire eastern -hemisphere. There are a dozen wars, each bigger than the other, slated -to follow, if needed, like the pressing of a row of electric buttons. -Knowing these things as you shall, it is only a question of whether you -will be with me on the crest, or in the hollow.” - -The caller moistened his lips, and turned his gaze finally from the -glowing coals to Allison’s face. - -“Show me everything you know,” he demanded. - -They sat together until morning, and they traversed the world; and, when -that visitor had gone, Allison gave his globe a contemptuous whirl. - -The balance of them were but matters of detail. With a certain prideful -arrogance, of which he himself was aware, he reflected that now he could -almost leave these minor powers and potentates and dignitaries to a -secretary, but nevertheless he saw them all. One by one they betrayed -their countrymen, their governments, their ideals and their consciences, -and all for the commodity to which Allison had but to add another cipher -when it was not enough! It was not that there were none but traitors in -the world, but that Allison’s agents had selected the proper men. -Moreover, Allison was able to show them a sceptre of resistless might; -the combined money, and power, and control, and wide-reaching arms of -the seven greatest monopolies the world had ever known! There was no -strength of resistance in any man after he had been brought, face to -face, with this new giant. - -It was in the grey of one morning, when Allison was through with his -last enforced collaborator, and, walking over to his globe, he twirled -it slowly. It was lined and streaked and crossed, over all its surface -now, with red, and it was the following of this intricate web which -brought back to him the triumph of his achievement. He had harnessed the -world, and now he had but to drive it. That was the next step, and he -clenched his fist to feel the sheer physical strength of his muscles, as -if it were with this very hand that he would do the driving. - -Intoxicated with a sense of his own power, he went back into his study, -and drew from a drawer the photograph of a young and beautiful girl, who -seemed to look up at him, out of an oval face wreathed with waving brown -hair, and set with beautifully curved lips which twitched at the corners -in a half sarcastic smile, from two brown eyes, deep and glowing and -fraught with an intense attractiveness. Every morning he had looked at -this photograph, the priceless crown of his achievement, the glittering -jewel to set in the head of his sceptre, the beautiful medallion of his -valour! - -“Only a little longer, Gail,” he told her with a smile, and then he -saluted the photograph. “Gail, the maker of maps!” he said. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - A QUESTION OF EUGENICS - - -Callers for Mrs. Helen Davies, and a huge bouquet of American beauties -for Gail. The latter young lady was in the music room, engaged with -Chopin and a great deal of pensiveness, when the interruption occurred, -and not quite understanding the specific division of ceremonies, crossed -up into the Louis XIV room, where Nicholas Van Ploon and Miss Van Ploon -sat with unusual impressiveness. - -“We don’t wish to see any frivolous young people,” said Miss Van Ploon -playfully, kissing Gail and pinching her cheek affectionately. - -“You can’t mean me,” laughed Gail, turning to receive the outstretched -palm of Nicholas, who, to her intense surprise, bent his round head and -kissed her hand. - -“Just you,” returned Miss Van Ploon, drawing Gail down beside her. “We -consider you the most delightfully frivolous young person in existence.” - -“That’s flattering, but is it complimentary?” queried Gail, and she was -astounded that Nicholas Van Ploon laughed so heartily. He had folded his -hands over his entirely uncreased vest, and now he nodded at her over -and over. - -“Clever,” he said, “very clever;” and he continued to beam on her. - -Miss Van Ploon turned sidewise, to inspect Gail with a fondly critical -estimate. The pensiveness which had needed Chopin for its expression, -and which had been rather growing since the night of Dick Rodley’s final -proposal, had begun to set its slightly etherealising mark upon her. - -“You are a trifle pale, my dear,” said Miss Van Ploon anxiously. “We -must not allow the roses to fade from those beautiful cheeks,” and -Nicholas Van Ploon was at once seriously concerned. He straightened his -neck, and bore the exact expression of a careful head of the family -about to send for a doctor. - -“That’s the second scolding I’ve had about it to-day,” smiled Gail, a -feeling of discomfort beginning to tighten itself around her. “Aunt -Grace is worrying herself very much because I do not sleep sufficiently, -but Aunt Helen tells her that the season will soon be over.” - -“It has been very gay,” observed Miss Van Ploon approvingly. “However, I -would like to see you finish the season as gloriously as you began it.” - -“You should systematise,” advised Nicholas Van Ploon earnestly, and in -an almost fatherly tone. “No matter what occurs, you should take a half -hour nap before dinner every day.” - -Mrs. Davies came into the room, arrayed in the black velvet afternoon -gown which gave her more stateliness and more impressive dignity than -anything in her wardrobe. Miss Van Ploon, who was a true member of the -family, in that she considered the Van Ploon entity before any -individual, quite approved of Mrs. Davies, and was in nowise jealous of -being so distinctly outshone in personal appearance. Nicholas Van Ploon -also surveyed Mrs. Davies with a calculating eye, and bobbed his round -head slightly to himself. He had canvassed Mrs. Helen Davies before, and -had discussed her in family council, but this was a final view, a dress -parade, as it were. - -“I suppose I am dismissed,” laughed Gail, rising, in relief, as Mrs. -Davies exchanged the greetings of the season with her callers. - -“Yes, run away and amuse yourself, child,” and Miss Van Ploon, again -with that assumption that Gail was a pinafored miss with a braid down -her back and a taffy stick in one hand, shook at her a playful finger; -whereupon Gail, pretending to laugh as a pinafored miss should, escaped, -leaving them to their guild matters, or whatever it was. - -“What a charming young woman she is!” commented Miss Van Ploon, -glancing, with dawning pride, at the doorway through which Gail had -disappeared. - -“Indeed, yes,” agreed Mrs. Davies, with a certain trace of -proprietorship of her own. “It has been very delightful to chaperon -her.” - -“It must have been,” acquiesced Miss Van Ploon; “and an extremely -responsible task, too.” - -“Quite,” assented Mrs. Davies. Both ladies were silent for a moment. -Nicholas Van Ploon, watching them in equal silence, began to show traces -of impatience. - -“We shall miss Gail very much if she should return to her home at the -end of the season,” ventured Miss Von Ploon, and waited. - -“We dread to think of losing her,” admitted Mrs. Davies, beginning to -feel fluttery. The question had been asked, the information given. - -Miss Van Ploon turned to her father, and bowed with formal deliberation. -Nicholas Van Ploon looked at her inquiringly. He had not detected any -particular meaning in the conversation, but that bow was a letter of -instructions. He drew a handkerchief from his pocket, and touched his -lips. He arose, in his completely stuffed cutaway, and deliberately -brought forward his chair. He sat down facing his daughter and Mrs. -Helen Davies. The latter lady was tremulous within but frigid without. -Mr. Van Ploon cleared his throat. - -“I believe that you are the acknowledged sponsor of Miss Sargent,” he -inquired. - -Mrs. Davies nodded graciously. - -“May I take the liberty of asking if your beautiful ward has formed a -matrimonial alliance?” - -“I am quite safe in saying that she has not.” Thus Mrs. Davies, in a -tone of untroubled reserve. - -“Then I feel free to speak,” went on the head of the Van Ploons, in -whose family the ancient custom of having a head was still rigidly -preserved. “I may state that we should feel it an honour to have Miss -Sargent become a member of the Van Ploon family.” - -Since he seemed to have more to say, and since he seemed to have paused -merely for rhetorical effect, Mrs. Helen Davies only nodded her head, -suppressing, meantime, the look of exultation which struggled to leap -into her face. - -“My son Houston, I am authorised to state, is devoted to Miss Sargent. -We have discussed the matter among us, and beg to assure you that Miss -Sargent will be received with affection, if she should consent to honour -us with this alliance.” - -The pause this time was not for rhetorical effect. It was a period, -which was emphasised by the fact that Nicholas leaned back in his chair -to restore his hands to their natural resting place. - -“We are honoured,” observed Mrs. Davies, with excellent courtesy -suppressing a gasp. The Van Ploons! The Van Ploons amid the stars! Why, -they were so high in the social firmament that they dared live and talk -and act like common people—and did it. To be above the need of pretence -is greatness indeed! “I shall take up the matter with my niece.” - -“I thank you,” responded the head of the Van Ploons. “You have rendered -it possible for me to inform my son that he is at liberty to speak to -Miss Sargent. He is anxious to call this evening, if he may,” whereupon -he smiled indulgently, and his daughter also smiled indulgently, and -Mrs. Davies smiled indulgently. - -“If you will pardon me, I will ascertain if my niece will be at liberty -this evening,” offered Mrs. Davies, rising. - -“We shall be highly gratified,” accepted Mr. Van Ploon, rising and -bowing. - -“We are so fond of Gail,” added Miss Van Ploon, beaming with sincerity, -and the beam was reflected in the face of her father, who nodded his -spherical head emphatically. - -Mrs. Helen Davies paused at the head of the stairs to calm herself. The -Mrs. Waverly-Gaites’ annual faded into dim obscurity. Mrs. -Waverly-Gaites would beg Gail on her bended knees to attend the annual, -and Mrs. Helen Davies could attend if she liked. She went into her own -room, and took a drink of water, and sat down for thirty or forty -seconds; then she went into Gail’s suite, where she found that young -lady, all unconscious of the honour which was about to befall her, -reading a six hundred page critique of Chopin’s music, and calmly -munching chocolates out of a basket decorated with eight shades of silk -roses. - -“Sit down and have a chocolate, Aunt Helen,” hospitably offered Gail, -slipping a marker in her book. - -Mrs. Davies consumed a great deal of time in selecting a chocolate, but -she did not sit down. - -“Shall you be at liberty this evening, Gail?” she inquired, with much -carelessness. - -“Why?” and Gail, whose feet were stretched out and crossed, in lazy -ease, looked up at her aunt sidewise from under her curving lashes. - -Mrs. Davies hesitated a moment. - -“Houston Van Ploon would like to call.” - -“Are they still downstairs?” Gail suddenly unveiled her eyes, and -brought her slippers squarely in front of her divan. Also she sat bolt -upright. - -“Yes,” and Mrs. Davies betrayed signs of nervousness. - -“Are they making the appointment for Houston?” - -“Yes.” The word drawled. - -“Why?” and Gail’s brown eyes began to crackle. - -Mrs. Davies thought it better to sit down. - -“My dear, a great honour has come to you.” - -Gail leaned forward towards her aunt, and tilted her chin. - -“Houston wants to propose, and he’s sent his father and sister to find -out if he may!” she charged. - -“Yes,” acknowledged Mrs. Davies, driven past the possibility of delay or -preparation, and feeling herself unjustly on the defensive. - -“I shall not be at home this evening,” announced Gail decisively, and -stretched out her feet again, and crossed her little grey slippers, and -took a chocolate. “Or any other evening,” she added. - -Mrs. Davies lost her flutter immediately. This was too stupendously -serious a matter to be weakly treated. - -“My dear, you don’t understand!” she protested, not in anger, but in -patient reason. “Houston Van Ploon has been the unattainable match of -New York. He is a gentleman in every particular, a desirable young man -in every respect, and gifted with everything a young girl would want. He -has so much money that you could buy a kingdom and be a queen, if you -chose to amuse yourself that way. He has a dignified old family, which -makes mere social position seem like an ignominious scramble for -cotillion favours; and it is universally admitted that he is the most -perfect of all the Van Ploons for many generations. Not exceptionally -clever; but that is one of the reasons the Van Ploons are so particular -to find a suitable matrimonial alliance for him.” - -Gail, nibbling daintily at her chocolate, closed her eyelids for a -second, the long, brown lashes curved down on her cheeks, and from -beneath them there escaped a sparkle like the snap of live coals, while -the corners of her lips twitched in that little smile which she kept for -her own enjoyment. - -“You can not appreciate the compliment which has been paid you, Gail. -Every débutante for the past five years has been most carefully -considered by the Van Ploons, and I sincerely believe this to be the -first time they have unanimously agreed on a choice. It is a matter of -eugenics, Gail, but in addition to that, Mr. Van Ploon assures me that -Houston is most fervently interested.” - -“How careless of them,” criticised Gail. “They have neither asked for my -measurements nor examined my teeth.” - -“Gail!” Her chaperon and sponsor was both shocked and stern. - -“I positively decline to even discuss the Van Ploon eugenics,” stated -Gail, pushing aside her chocolates, while a red spot began to appear on -her cheeks. “I shall not, as I stated before, be at home to Houston Van -Ploon this evening—or any other evening.” - -“I shall not deliver that message,” announced Mrs. Davies, setting her -lips. “As your present sponsor, I shall insist that you take more time -to consider a matter so important.” - -“I shall insist on refusing to consider it for one second,” returned -Gail quietly. “I am very fond of Houston Van Ploon, and I hope to remain -so, but I wouldn’t marry him under any circumstances. This is firm, -flat, and final.” - -Mrs. Helen Davies dropped patient reason instantly. She was aware of an -impulsive wish that Gail were in pinafores, and her own child, so she -could box her ears. - -“Gail, you compel me to lose my patience!” she declared. “When you came, -I strained every influence I possessed to have you meet the most -desirable eligibles this big city could offer, just as if you were my -own daughter! I have succeeded in working miracles! I have given you an -opportunity to interest the very best! You have interested them, but I -have never seen such extravagance in the waste of opportunities! You -have refused men whom thousands in the highest circles have sought; and -now you refuse the very choice of them all! What or whom do you want?” - -Gail’s red spots were deepening, but she only clasped her knee in her -interlocked fingers, her brown hair waving about her face, and her chin -uptilted. - -“You can’t always expect to retain your youth, and beauty and charm!” -went on her Aunt Helen. “You can’t expect to come to New York every year -and look over the eligibles until you find one to suit your fastidious -taste! You’re capricious, you’re ungrateful, and you’re unsatisfactory!” - -Gail’s eyes turned suddenly moist, and the red flashed out of her -cheeks. - -“Oh, Aunt Helen!” she exclaimed in instant contrition. “I’m so very, -very sorry that I am such a disappointment to you! But if I just can’t -marry Mr. Van Ploon, I can’t, can I? Don’t you see?” She was up now and -down again, sitting on a hassock in front of Mrs. Davies, and the face -which she upturned had in it so much of beautiful appeal that even her -chaperon and sponsor was softened. “I was nasty a while ago, and I had -no excuse for it, for you have been loving and sincere in your desire to -make my future happy. I’m so very, very sorry! I’ll tell you what I’ll -do! You may go down and tell Mr. Van Ploon and his daughter that I will -see Houston this evening,” and then she smiled; “but you mustn’t say -‘with pleasure.’” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - AN EMPIRE AND AN EMPRESS - - -The soft air which blew upon Gail’s cheek was like the first breath of -spring, and there was the far-off prophecy of awakening in the very -sunshine, as she sped out the river road with Allison in his powerful -runabout. For days the weather had been like this, mild and still -invigorating, and it had been a tremendous rest from the protracted -crispness of the winter. There was the smell of moist earth, and the -vague sense of stirring life, as if the roots and the seeds, deep in the -ground, were answering to the thrill of coming birth. - - “It’s glorious!” exclaimed Gail, her cheeks answering to the caress of -the air with a flush of blossom-like delicacy. She was particularly -contented to-day. Allison had been so busy of late, and she had missed -him. With all his strength, he was restful. - -“I feel like a new man at this time of the year,” returned Allison, -glancing at Gail with cool appreciation. A car full of men passed them, -and the looks they cast in his runabout pleased him. “Gail, do you -remember the first time we drove out here?” - - “Indeed yes,” she laughed. “With the snow in our eyes, and the roads -all white, with the lights gleaming through the flakes like Arctic -will-o’-the-wisps. We ran away that night, and dined at Roseleaf Inn, -and worried the folks to death, for fear we had had an accident.” - -“I had more than an accident that night,” said Allison. “I had a total -wreck.” - -Gail glanced at him quickly, but his face was clear of any apparent -purpose. He was gazing straight ahead, his clean-cut profile, always a -pleasant thing to look upon, set against the shifting background of -rocky banks as if it were the one steadfast and unalterable thing in the -universe; and he was smiling introspectively. - -“It was about here that it happened,” he went on. “I think I’d been -bragging a little, and I think you meant to slyly prick my balloon, -which I will admit seemed a kind and charitable thing to do.” - -“What was it?” wondered Gail, trying to recall that unimportant -conversation. - -“Oh, a gentle intimation that I hadn’t done so much,” he laughed. “I had -just finished consolidating all the traction cars in New York, subways, -L’s, and surface: and I felt cocky about it. I even remarked that I had -achieved the dream of my life, and intended to rest a while. All you -said was, ‘Why?’” and his laugh pealed out. Four birds in a wayside bush -sprang into the air and flew on ahead. - -“I used to be conspicuous for impertinence,” smiled Gail. “I’m trying to -reform.” - -“I’m glad you hadn’t started when I met you,” returned Allison, steering -around a sharp stone with the firm accuracy which Gail had so often -admired. “I never had so stinging a reproof as that little why. It did -me more good than any sermon I ever heard.” - -“That’s positively startling,” replied Gail lightly. “I usually hear -from my impertinences, long after, as a source of discomfort.” - -“‘Why?’” repeated Allison. “I took that why home with me. If you had -said, ‘Why should you rest a while?’ or ‘Why should you stop when you’ve -just made a start?’ or something of that nature, it might not have -impressed me so much; but just the one unexplained word was like a -barbed hook in my mind. It wouldn’t come out. I asked myself that why -until daylight, and I found no answer. Why, when I was young and strong, -and had only tasted of victory, should I sit by the fireside and call -myself old? If I had ability to conquer this situation with so much -ease, why should I call it a great accomplishment; for great -accomplishments are measured by the power employed.” - -Gail looked at him in questioning perplexity. She could not gather what -he meant, but she had a sense of something big, and once more she was -impressed with the tremendous reserve force in the man. His clear grey -eyes were fixed on the road ahead, and the very symbol of him seemed to -be this driving; top speed, a long road, a steady hand, a cool -determination, a sublime disregard of hills and valleys which made them -all a level road. - -“Why? That word set me out on a new principle that never, while I had -strength in me, would I consider my work finished, no matter how great -an achievement I had made. I am still at work.” - -Something within her leaped up in answer to the thrill of exultation in -his voice. To have been the inspiration of great deeds, even by so -simple an agency as the accidental use of a word, was in itself an -exalting thing, though an humbling one, too. And there were great deeds. -She was sure of that as she looked at him. He was too calm about it, and -too secure to have been speaking of trifles. - -“When I was a boy I lived on ancient history,” he went on, with a smile -for the bygone dreamer he had been. “I wanted to be a soldier, a great -general, a warrior, in the sturdy old sense, and my one hero was -Alexander the Great, because he conquered the world! That’s what I -wanted to do. I wanted to go out and fight and kill, and bring kingdom -after kingdom under my sway, and finally set myself on a mighty throne, -which should have for its boundaries the north and the south pole! When -I grew older, and found how small was the world which Alexander had -conquered, not much bigger than the original thirteen states, I grew -rather disillusioned, particularly as I was working at about that time -for a dollar and a quarter a day. I spent a few busy years, and had -forgotten the dream; then you said ‘why’ and it all came back.” - -“Hurry!” commanded Gail. “Curiosity is bad for me.” - -Allison laughed heartily at her impatience. He had meant to arouse her -interest, and he had done so. She would not have confessed it, but she -was fascinated by the thing he had held in reserve. It was like the -cruelty of telling a child of a toy in a trunk which is still at the -station. - -“I conquered it,” he told her, with an assumption of nonchalance which -did not deceive her. There was too much of under-vibration in his tone, -and the eyes which he turned upon her were glowing in spite of his -smile. “In my hand I hold control of the transportation of the world! If -a pound of freight is started westward or eastward from New York, -addressed to me at its starting point, it will circle the globe, and on -every mile of its passage it will pay tribute to me. If a man starts to -travel north or south or east or west, anywhere on the five continents -or the seven seas, he must pay tribute to me. With that shipment of -every necessity and luxury under my control, I control the necessities -and luxuries themselves; so there is no human being in the world who can -escape contributing tithes to the monster company I have consolidated.” - -He was disappointed, for a moment. She seemed almost unimpressed. In -reality, she was struggling to comprehend what he had just said to her. -It was so incredibly huge in its proportions, so gigantic, so -extravagantly far reaching that she had only words in her ears. He must -be speaking in hyperbole. - -“I don’t understand,” she said. - -“It is difficult to grasp,” he admitted. “When I first conceived of it, -in answer to your why, I could not myself comprehend any more than that -I had thought of an absurdity, like the lover who wished that the sea -were ink and the land a pen that he might seize it, and write across the -sky ‘I love you!’ It was as fantastic as that in my mind, at first, and -in order to reduce the idea to actual thought, I had to break it into -fragments; and that is the way I set about my campaign.” - -Gail was listening eagerly now. She was beginning to dimly comprehend -that Allison had actually wrought a miracle of commerce, probably the -most stupendous in this entire century of commercial miracles; and her -admiration of him grew. She had always admired great force, great -strength, great power, and here, unfolding before her, was the evidence -of it at its zenith. - -“Let me build it up, step by step, for you. Incidentally, I’ll give you -some confidential news which you will be reading in months to come. I -hope,” and he laughed, “that you will not tell your friends the -reporters about it.” - -“Cross my heart, I won’t,” she gaily replied. The sting of her one big -newspaper experience had begun to die away. - -“When you asked me why, I was trying to secure Vedder Court for a -terminal station for my city traction lines. Vedder Court quickly -became, in my imagination, the terminal point not only of the city -traction lines, but of the world’s transportation. From that I would run -a railroad tube to the mainland, so that I could land passengers, not -only in the heart of New York, but at the platforms of every street car -and L and subway train.” - -“How wonderful!” exclaimed Gail, in enthusiasm. This was an idea she -could grasp. “And have you secured Vedder Court?” - -“It’s a matter of days,” he returned carelessly. “The next step was the -transcontinental line. I built it up, piece by piece, and to-day, under -my own personal control, with sufficient stock to elect my own -directors, who will jump when I crack the whip, I possess a railroad -line from the Atlantic to the Pacific so direct, so straight, and so -allied with ninety-five per cent. of the freight interests of the United -States that, within two years, there will not be a car wheel turning in -America which does not do so at the command of the A.-P. Railroad. That -is the first step leading out of Vedder Court. The news of that -consolidation will be in to-morrow morning’s papers, and from that -minute on, the water will begin to drip from railroad stocks.” - -“How about Uncle Jim’s road?” Gail suddenly interrupted. - -“I am taking care of him,” he told her easily. “From Vedder Court run -subways along the docks.” - -“I see!” interrupted Gail. “You have secured control of the steamship -companies, of the foreign railroads, of everything which hauls and -carries!” - -“Airships excepted,” he laughingly informed her. “Gail, it’s an empire, -and none so great ever existed in all the world! The giant monopolies of -which so much has been said, are only parts of it, like principalities -in a kingdom. There isn’t a nook or corner on the globe where one finger -of my giant does not rest. The armies which swept down from the north -and devastated Europe, the hordes which spread from Rome, the legions -which marched to Moscow, even those mighty armies of the Iliad and the -Odyssey were insignificant as compared to the sway of this tremendous -organisation! All commerce, all finance, all politics, must bow the knee -to it, and serve it! Maps will be shifted for its needs. Nations will -rise and fall as it shall decree, and the whole world, every last -creature of it, shall feed it and be fed by it!” - -He paused, and turned to her with a positive radiance on the face which -she had always considered heavy. She had looked on him as a highly -successful money-grubber, as a commercial genius, as a magician of -manipulation, as a master of men; but he was more than all these; he was -a poet, whose rude epics were written in the metre of whirling wheels -and flying engines and pounding propellers; a poet whose dreams extended -beyond the confines of imagination itself; and then, above that, a -sorcerer who builded what he dreamed! - -There is a magic thrill in creation. It extends beyond the creator to -the created, and it inspires all who come in contact with it. Gail’s -eager mind traversed again and again the girdle he had looped around the -world, darting into all its intricacies and ramifications, until she, -too, had pursued it into all the obscure nooks and crannies, and saw the -most remote and distant peoples dependent upon it, and paying toll to -it, and swaying to its command. This was a dream worthy of -accomplishment; a dream beyond which there could be no superlative; and -the man beside her had dreamed it, and had builded it; and all this -would not have happened if she had not given him the hint with one -potent word which had spurred him, and set his marvellously constructive -mind to work. - -In so far they were partners in this mighty enterprise, and he had been -magnanimous enough to acknowledge her part in it. It drew them strangely -near. It was a universe, in the conception of which no other minds than -theirs had dabbled, in the modelling of which no other hand had been -thrust. What agile mind, gifted with ambition, and broad conception, and -the restlessness which, in her, had not only ranged world wide but -beyond the æther and across the vast seas of superstition and ignorance -and credulity to God himself; what mind such as this could resist the -insidious flattery of that mighty collaboration? - -She was silent now, and he left her silent, brooding, himself, upon the -vast scope of his dreaming, and planning still to centre more and more -the fruits of that dreaming within his own eager hand. - -Roseleaf Inn. Gail recognised it with a smile as they turned in at the -drive. She was glad that they had come here, for it was linked in her -mind with the beginnings of that great project of which she had been the -impulse, and in which the thing in her that had been denied opportunity -because she was a woman, claimed a hungry share. At his suggestion—it -was more like a command, but she scarcely noticed—she telephoned that -she was going to remain to dinner with Allison; and then they enjoyed a -two hour chat of many things, trivial in themselves, but fraught now -with delightful meaning, because they had to think on so many -unexpressed things, larger than these idle people about them could -conceive, or grasp if they knew. - -[Illustration: She telephoned that she was going to remain to dinner -with Allison; and they enjoyed a two hour chat of many things] - -Homeward again in the starlit night, still in that whirl of exultation. -It was somewhat chillier now, and Allison bundled her into the machine -with rough tenderness. She felt the thrill of him as he sat beside her, -and the firm strength with which he controlled the swiftly speeding -runabout, was part her strength. They were kindred spirits, these two, -soaring above the affairs of earth in the serene complacency of those -who make trifles of vastness itself. They did not talk much, for they -had not much to talk about. The details of a scheme so comprehensive as -Allison’s were not things to be explained, they were things to be seen -in a vision. Once she asked him about the bringing of the foreign -railroads into the combination, and he told her that this would only be -accomplished by a political upheaval, which would take place next month, -and would probably involve the whole of Europe. It was another detail; -and it seemed quite natural. She was so interested that he told her all -about his foreign visitors. - -In the Park, Allison stopped at the little outlook house where they had -climbed on that snowy night, and they stood there, with the stars above -and the trees below and the twinkling lights stretching out to the -horizon, all alone above the world of civilisation. Below sounded the -clang of street cars, and far off to the left, high in the air, there -gleamed the lights of a curving L train. That was a part of Allison’s -world which he had long since conquered, a part which he already held in -the hollow of his hand; and the fact that every moving thing which clung -upon a track in all this vast panorama was under his dominion, served -only to illustrate and make plain the marvel of the accomplishment which -was now under way. Beyond that dim horizon lay another and still -another, and in them all, wherever things moved or were transported, the -lift of Allison’s finger was to start and stop the wheels, to the -uttermost confines of the earth! Oh, it was wonderful; wonderful! And -she was part of it! - -It was there that he proposed to her. It did not surprise her. She had -known it when they had entered the Park, and that this was the place. - -He told her that all this empire was being builded to lay at her feet, -that she was the empress of it and he the emperor, but that their joy -was to be not in the sway, not in the sceptre and crown, but in the -doing, and in the having done, and in the conceiving and having -conceived! - -Was this a cold painting of pomp and glory and advantage and reward? He -added to it the fire of a lover, and to that the force and mastery and -compulsion of his dynamic power. She felt again the potent thrill of -him, and the might and sweep and drive of him, and with the hot, -tumbling words of love in her ears, and her senses a-reel, and her mind -in its whirling exultation, she felt between them a sympathy and a union -which it was not in human strength to deny! Something held her back, -something made her withhold the word of promise, on the plea that she -must have more time to think, to consider, to straighten out the tangle -of her mind; but she suffered him to sweep her in his arms, and rain hot -kisses upon her face, and to tell her, over and over and over and over, -that she belonged to him, forever and forever! - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - ALLISON’S PRIVATE AND PARTICULAR DEVIL - - -The free and entirely uncurbed enjoyed an unusual treat. It had a -sensation which did not need to be supported by a hectic imagination or -a lurid vocabulary. Vedder Court had been condemned for the use of the -Municipal Transportation Company! A new eight track, double-deck tube -was to be constructed through Crescent Island to the mainland! - -Grand climax! Through this tube and into Vedder Court, at the platforms -of the surface and L and subway cars, was to come the passenger trains -of the new Atlantic-Pacific Railroad, a line three hundred miles shorter -than any now stretching between Broadway and the Golden Gate! Any reader -of the daily press, of whom there are several, knows precisely what the -free and entirely uncurbed did with this bit of simon-pure information. -The glittering details began on the first page, turned on the second, -continued on the fourth, jumped over to the seventh, and finished back -among the real estate ads. It began early in the morning, and it -continued until late at night, fresh details piling upon each other in -mad profusion, their importance limited only by the restrictions of -type! - -Extra! The trick by which the A.-P. ran through the mountains over the -Inland Pacific’s track! - -Extra, extra! The compulsion by which the Midcontinent was brought to -complete the big gap in the new A.-P. system! - -Tremendous extra! The contracts of freightage, subject strictly to the -Inter-State Commerce law, between the A.-P. and the cereal trust, the -metal trust, the fuel trust, the cloth trust, and all the other -iniquitous combinations in restraint of everything! Wow! Zowie! That was -the hot one! The A.-P. was the main stem, and within thirteen seconds of -the appearance on the streets of the tremendous extra, every other -fragile branchlet of a railroad not under the immediate protection of -the A.-P., was reduced to a shrivel, and its stocks began to drop with -the sickening plunge of an unopened parachute! - -Gail Sargent kept Nanette on the rush for extras from the first yell on -the streets, and she read every word, including the underlines on the -miscellaneous portraits of Allison and the funny pi-lines which -invariably occurred in the middle of the most interesting sentences. - -It was true, all true! Here was the first step in Allison’s tremendous -project an accomplished fact. The rest of it would be gradually -revealed, from day to day, as suited his needs, and the empire he had -planned would spread, until its circles touched, and overlapped, and -broke into an intricate webbing, over all the land and water of the -earth! And she was to be the Empress! - -Was she? Through all the night she had battled that question, and the -battle had left traces of darkness around her luminous eyes. First, she -had been in the swirl of his tremendous compulsion, overwhelmed by the -sheer physical force of him, captured not by siege but by sortie. Then -had come the dazzling splendour of his great plan, a temptation of -power, of might, of unlimited rulership, in the spoils of which, and the -honour of which, and the glory of which, she would share. Next, in the -midst of her expanding anticipation, there had come, as out of a clear -sky, a sudden inexplicable fear. It was a shrinking, almost like a -chill, which had attacked her. Allison himself! The sheer physical -dominance of him; the tempestuous mastery of him; and again she felt -that breathless sensation of utter helplessness which she had -experienced in the little lookout house. It was as if he were pulling -the very life out of her, to the upbuilding of his own strength! It was -in the very nature of him to sweep her away by storm; it was a part of -his very bigness. He was colossal, gigantic, towering! And she had -conquered this giant, had been the motive of his strength, the very -pinnacle of his cloud-topping ambition! There was pride in that, pride -and to spare. It distressed her that again and again came that impulse -of fear, that shrinking. A new thought dawned. Perhaps this was the -thing which she had desired, the thing for which she had been waiting; -to be taken, and crushed. - -Another disturbance came to her. This mighty plan of Allison’s. The -exaltation of achievement, the dazzling glory of accomplishment, had -blinded her to the processes by which the end must be gained, and the -fact which drew her attention to this was the remembrance that her Uncle -Jim was to be protected! What about the others? For Allison to gain -control and dominion over thousands of now segregated interests, those -thousands must lose their own control. What would become of them? - -Pshaw! That was the way of the world, particularly of the commercial -world. As her father had often expressed it, the big fish ate the little -fish because fish was the only food for fish; and Allison was the -biggest one of them all. That was the way of him; to devour that he -might live. Even here, far from him, and safe in her dainty little -chintz hung suite, she felt the dominance of him. Turn her eyes where -she would, with the lids open or closed, he filled her vision, not in -his normal stature, but grown to the dimensions of his force, filling -the sky, the earth, the sea, blotting out everything! There was no -escaping him. He had come to claim her, and she belonged to him; that -is, unless she chose to call upon a strength still latent in her. There -was a something else which she could not define just now, which seemed -to call to her persistently through the darkness. A voice—but the typo -for colossus stood between! She wondered if she were happy. She wondered -what her Aunt Helen would say. Bigness and power and dominance; she had -admired them all her life. - -Late in the afternoon Jim Sargent came home, drawn, fagged, and with -hollows under his eyes. He had a violent headache, and he looked ten -years older. He walked slowly into the library where Mrs. Sargent and -Mrs. Davies and Gail were discussing the future of Vedder Court, and -dropped into a chair. - -Grace Sargent rang a bell instantly. When Jim felt that way, he needed a -hot drink first of all. - -“What is the matter?” she asked him, the creases of worry flashing into -her brow. - -“It’s been a hard day,” he explained, forcing himself, with an effort, -to answer. Years of persistent experience had taught him to follow the -line of least resistance. “There has been a panic on ’Change. Railroads -are going to smash all up and down the line. Allison’s new A.-P. road. -It’s the star piracy of the century. Allison has brought into the -railroad game the same rough-shod methods he used in his traction -manipulations.” - -“Has your company been hurt, Jim?” asked his wife, fully prepared for -the worst, and making up her mind to bear up bravely under it. - -“Not yet,” replied Sargent, and he passed his hand over his brow. He was -already making a tremendous effort to brace himself for to-morrow’s -ordeal. “I escaped to-day by an accident. By some mistake the Towando -Valley was mentioned as belonging to the new A.-P. combination. Of -course I didn’t correct it, but by to-morrow they’ll know.” - -“Mr. Allison was responsible for that statement,” Gail serenely informed -her uncle. “He promised he’d take care of you.” - -“Great guns!” exploded her uncle. “What did you know about this thing?” - -“All of it,” smiled Gail. She had known that Allison would keep his -word, but it gave her a strange sense of relief that he had done so. - -Her Aunt Helen turned to her with a commanding eye; but Gail merely -dimpled. - -“Of course I couldn’t say anything,” went on Gail. “It was all in -confidence. Isn’t it glorious, Uncle Jim!” - -“You wouldn’t have thought so if you’d been down town to-day,” responded -her uncle, trying again to erase from his brow the damage which had been -done to his nerves. “They wanted to mob Allison! He has cut the ground -from under the entire railroad business of the United States! Their -stocks have deflated an aggregate of billions of dollars, and the slump -is permanent! He has bankrupted a host of men, rifled the pockets of a -million poor investors; he has demoralised the entire transportation -commerce of the United States; and he gave no one the show of a rat in a -trap!” - -“Isn’t that business?” asked Gail, the red spots beginning to come into -her cheeks. - -“Not quite!” snapped her Uncle Jim. “Fiction has made that the universal -idea, but there are decent men in business. The majority of them are, -even in railroading. Most roads are organised and conducted for the sole -purpose of carrying freight and passengers at a profit for the -stockholders, and spectacular stock jobbing deals are the exception -rather than the rule.” - -“Has Mr. Allison been more unfair than others who have made big -consolidations?” demanded Gail, again aware of the severely inquiring -eye of Aunt Helen. - -“Rotten!” replied her uncle, with an emphasis in which there was much of -personal feeling. “He has taken tricky advantage of every unprotected -loophole. He won from the Inland Pacific, at the mere cost of trackage, -a passage which the Inland built through the mountains by brilliant -engineering and at an almost countless cost.” - -“Isn’t that accounted clever?” asked Gail. - -“So is the work of a confidence man or a wire-tapper!” was the retort. -“But they are sent to jail just the same. The Inland created something. -It built, with brains and money and force, and sincere commercial -enterprise, a line which won it a well-earned supremacy of the Pacific -trade. It was entitled to keep it; yet Allison, by making with it a -tricky contract for the restricted use of the key to its supremacy, uses -that very device to destroy it. He has bankrupted, or will have done so, -a two thousand mile railroad system, which is of tremendous commercial -value to the country, in order to use a hundred miles of its track and -remove it from competition! Allison has created nothing. He has only -seized, by stealth, what others have created. He is not even a -commercial highwayman. He is a commercial pickpocket!” - -Gail had paled by now. - -“Tell me one thing,” she demanded. “Wouldn’t any of the railroad men -have employed this trick if they had been shrewd enough to think of it?” - -“A lot of them,” was the admission, after an awkward pause. “Does that -make it morally and ethically correct?” - -“You may be prejudiced, Jim,” interpolated Aunt Helen, moving closer to -Gail. “If they are all playing the game that way, I don’t see why Mr. -Allison shouldn’t receive applause for clever play.” - -“You bet I’m prejudiced!” snarled Sargent, overcoming his weariness and -pacing up and down the library floor. “He came near playing my road the -same trick he did the Inland Pacific. He secured control of the L. and -C., because it has a twenty-year contract for passage over fifty miles -of our track. He’d throw the rest of our line away like a peanut hull, -if he had not promised Gail to protect me. I’m an object of charity!” - -“Oh!” It was a scarcely audible cry of pain. Aunt Helen moved closer, -and patted her hand. Gail did not notice the action. - -“Why did he make you that promise, Gail?” demanded her uncle, turning on -her suddenly, with a physical motion so much like her father’s that she -was startled. - -“He wants me to marry him,” faltered Gail. - -Aunt Grace sat down by the other side of Gail. - -“Have you accepted him, dear?” she asked. - -There was a lump in Gail’s throat. She could not answer! - -“She’ll never marry him with my consent!” stormed her Uncle Jim. “Nor -with Miles’s! The fellow’s an unscrupulous scoundrel! He’s made of -cruelty from his toes to his hair! He stops at nothing! He even robbed -Market Square Church of six million dollars!” - -Gail’s head suddenly went up in startled inquiry. She wanted to still -defend Allison; but she dreaded what was to come. - -“We wouldn’t sell him Vedder Court at his price; so he took it from us -at six million less than he originally offered. He did that by a trick, -too.” - -All three women looked up at him in breathless interest. - -“He had the city condemn Vedder Court,” went on Sargent. “If he had -condemned it outright for the Municipal Transportation Company, he would -have had to pay us about the amount of his original offer; but his own -private and particular devil put the idea into his head that the Vedder -Court tenements should be torn down anyhow, for the good of the public! -So he had the buildings condemned first, destroying six million dollars’ -worth of value; then he had the ground condemned! Tim Corman probably -got about a million dollars for that humanitarian job!” - -A wild fit of sobbing startled them all. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - LOVE - - -Allison swept Gail into his arms, and rained hot kisses upon her, -crushing her closely to him. She offered no resistance, and the very -fact that she held so supinely in his arms, made Allison release her -sooner than he might otherwise have done. She had known that this -experience must come, that no look or gesture or word of hers could ward -it off. - -“You must never do that again,” she told him, stepping back from him, -and regaining her breath with an effort. She had lingered in the front -parlours to receive him before her Uncle Jim should know that he was in -the house, and she had led him straight into the little tête-à-tête -reception room. She meant to free herself quickly. - -“Why not?” he laughed, and advanced toward her, taking her attitude -lightly, ascribing her action to a girlish whim, confident in his power -over her. He meant to dispose of her coyness by taking her in his arms -again. She belonged to him. - -“Mr. Allison.” The tone was cold enough, and deadly in earnest enough to -arrest him. - -“What’s the matter, Gail?” he protested, ready to humour her, to listen -to what she had to say, to smooth matters out. - -“You have no right,” she told him. - -“Yes I have,” he jovially assured her. “I hope I don’t have to wait -until after marriage for a kiss. If that’s the case I’ll take you out -and marry you right now.” - -There was an infection in his laugh, contagion in the assumption that -all was right between them, and that any difference was one which could -be straightened out with jolly patience, and Gail, though her -determination would not have changed, might have softened toward him, -had she not seen in his face a look which paled her lips. Ever since -last night he had anticipated her, had rejoiced in his possession of -her, had dreamed on the time when he should take her for his own; and -his eyes were cloudy with his thoughts of her. - -“Let us have a clear understanding, Mr. Allison.” She was quite erect, -and looking him directly in the eyes. Her own were deep and troubled, -and the dark trace which had been about them in the morning had -deepened. “I told you last night that I should need time in which to -decide; and I have decided. I shall not marry you.” - -He returned her gaze for a moment, and his brow clouded. - -“You’ve changed since last night,” he charged her. - -“Possibly,” she admitted. “It is more likely, however, that I have -merely crystallised. I prefer not to discuss it.” She saw on his face -the growing instinct to humiliate her. - -“You must discuss it,” he insisted. “Last night when I took you in my -arms you made no objection. I was justified in doing it again to-night. -You’re not a fool. You knew from the first that I wanted you, and you -encouraged me. Now, I’m entitled to know what has made the change.” - -The telltale red spots began to appear in her cheeks. - -“You,” she told him. “Last night, your scheme of world empire seemed a -wonderful thing to me, but since then I’ve discovered that it cannot be -built without dishonesty and cruelty; and you’ve used both.” - -His brow cleared. He laughed heartily. - -“You’ve been reading the papers. There isn’t a man in the financial -field who wouldn’t do everything I’ve done; and be proud of it. I can -make you see this in the right light, Gail.” - -“It’s a proof of your moral callousness that you think so,” she informed -him. “Can you make me see it in the right light that you even used me, -of whom you pretended to think sacredly enough to marry, to help you in -your most despicable trick of all?” - -“Look here,” he protested. “That would be impossible! You’re -misinformed.” - -“I wish I were,” she returned. “Unfortunately, it is a matter of direct -knowledge. You caused Vedder Court to be torn down because I thought it -should be wiped out of existence, and in the process you cheated Market -Square Church out of six million dollars!” - -He could not have been more shocked if she had struck him. - -“I knew you did not understand,” he kindly reproved her. “I didn’t want -those old buildings. They couldn’t have sold them for the wreckage -price. When you suggested that they should be torn down, I saw it. They -were a public menace, and the public was right with the movement. The -condemnation price will cover all they could get from the property from -any source. You see, you don’t understand business,” and his tone was -forgiving. “I’d have been foolish to pay six million dollars for -something I couldn’t use. You know, Gail, when the building -commissioners came to look over those buildings, they were shocked! Some -of them wouldn’t have stood up another year. It was only the political -influence of Clark and Chisholm and a few of the other big guns of the -congregation, which kept them from being condemned long ago. You -shouldn’t interfere in business. It always creates trouble between man -and wife,” and he advanced to put his arm around her, and soothe her. - -The hand with which she warded him off was effective this time. She -stared at him in wonder. It seemed inconceivable that the moral sense of -any intelligent man should be so blunted. - -“There’s another reason,” she told him, despairing of making him realise -that he had done anything out of the way. “I do not love you. I could -not.” - -For just a moment he was checked; then his jaws set. - -“That is something you must learn. You have young notions of love, -gleaned from poetry and fiction. You conceive it to be an ideal stage of -existence, a mysterious something almost too delicate for perception by -the human senses. I will teach you love, Gail! Look,” and he stretched -up his firm arm, as if in his grip he already held the reins of the -mighty empire he was hewing out for her. “Love is a thing of strength, -of power, of desire which shakes, and burns, and consumes with fever! It -is like the lust to kill! It whips, and it goads, and it drives! It -creates! It puts new images into the brain; it puts new strength into -sinews; it puts new life into the blood! It cries out! It demands! It -has caused me to turn back from middle-age to youth, to renew all my -ambitions, a thousandfold enhanced by my maturity! It has caused me to -grapple the world by the throat, and shake it, throttle it; so that I -might drag it, quivering, to your feet and say, this is yours; kick it! -That is love, Gail! It drives one on to do great deeds! It gives one the -impulse to recognise no bounds, no bars, no obstacles! It has put all my -being into the attainment of things big enough to show you the force of -my will, and what it could conquer! Do you suppose that, with such love -driving me on, any objection which you may make will stop me? No! I set -out to attain you as the summit of my desire, the one thing in this -world I want, and will have!” - -Again that great fear of him possessed Gail. She feared many things. She -feared that, in spite of her determination, he would still have her, and -in that possibility alone lay all the other fears, fears so gruesome -that she did not dare see them clearly! She knew that she must retain -absolute control of herself. - -“I shall not discuss the matter any further,” she quietly said, and -walking straight towards the door, passed by him, quite within the reach -of his arm, without either looking at him or away from him. Something -within his own strength respected hers, in spite of him. “I have said -all that I have to say.” - -“So have I,” he replied, coming closer to her as she stood in the -doorway, and he gazed down at her with eyes in which there was insolent -determination, and cruelty. “I have said that I mean to have you, and I -will.” - -Without a word, she went into the hall. He followed her, and took his -hat. - -“Good evening,” he said formally. - -“Good evening,” she replied, and he went out of the door. - -When he had gone, she flew up to her rooms, her first coherent thought -being that she had accomplished it! She had seen Allison, and had given -him her definite answer, and had gotten him out of the house while the -others were back in the billiard room. She had held up splendidly, but -she was weak now, and quivering in every limb, and she sank on her -divan, supported on one outstretched arm; and in this uncomfortable -position, she took up the eternal question of Gail. The angry tears of -mortification sprang into her eyes! - -A half hour later her Aunt Grace came up, and found her in the same -position. - -“Mrs. Boyd and Doctor Boyd are downstairs, dear,” she announced. - -Gail straightened up with difficulty. Her arm was numb. - -“Please make my excuses, Aunty,” she begged. - -“What’s the matter?” asked Aunt Grace, the creases jumping into her brow -as if they lay somewhere in the roots of her hair, ready to spring down -at an instant’s notice. “Aren’t you feeling well? Shall I get you -something?” - -“No, thank you,” smiled Gail wanly. “I’m just a little fatigued.” - -“Then don’t you come a step,” and Aunt Grace beamed down on her niece -with infinite tenderness. She had an intuition, these days, that the -girl was troubled; and her sympathies were ready for instant production. -“You’ll have to tell me what to say, though. I’m so clumsy at it.” - -“Just tell them the truth,” smiled Gail, and punching two pillows -together, she stretched herself at full length on the divan. - -Her Aunt Grace regarded her with a puzzled expression for a moment, and -then she laughed. - -“I see; you’re lying down.” She looked at Gail thoughtfully for a -moment. “Dear, could you close your eyes?” - -“Certainly,” agreed Gail, and the brown lashes curved down on her -cheeks, though there was a sharp little glint from under the edges of -her lids. - -Her Aunt Grace stooped and kissed the smooth white brow, then she went -downstairs and entered the library. - -“Gail is lying down,” she primly reported. “Her eyes are closed.” - -The library was quite steadily devoted to Vedder Court to-night. A -highly important change had come into the fortunes of Market Square -Church. It was as if a stone had been thrown into a group of cardboard -houses. All the years of planning had gone the way of the wind, and the -card houses had all to be built over again. The Cathedral had receded by -a good five years, unless the force and fire of the Reverend Smith Boyd -should be sufficient to coax capital out of the pockets of his -millionaire congregation; and, in fact, that quite normal plan was -already under advisement. - -The five of this impromptu counsel were deep in the matter of ways and -means, when a slender apparition, in clinging grey, came down the -stairs. It was Gail, who, for some reason unknown, even to her, had -decided that she was selfish; and the Reverend Smith Boyd’s heart ached -as he saw the pallor on her delicately tinted cheeks and the dark -tracing about her brown eyes. She slipped quietly in among them, her -brown hair loosely waved, so that unexpected threads of gold shone in it -when she passed under the chandelier, and she greeted the callers -pleasantly, and sat down in the corner, very silent. She was glad that -she had come. It was restful in this little circle of friends. - -A noise filled the hall, and even the lights of the library seemed to -brighten, as Lucile and Ted, Arly and Gerald, and Dick Rodley, came -tumbling in, laughing and chattering, and carrying hilarity in front of -them like a wave. Gail shoved her tangle of thoughts still further back -in her head, and the sparkle returned into her eyes. - -“We’re bringing you a personal invitation to Arly and Gerald’s yacht -party,” jabbered Lucile, kissing everybody in reach except the Reverend -Smith Boyd. - -“You might let Arly extend the invitation herself,” objected Ted. - -“I’ve given the pleasure to Gerald,” laughed Arly, with a vivacious -glance at that smiling gentleman. “He does it so much better. Now -listen.” - -“It’s a little informal week-end party, on the _Whitecap_,” Gerald -informed them, with a new something in him which quite satisfactorily -took the place of cordiality. “Sort of a farewell affair. Arly and I are -about to take a selfish two months’ cruise, all by ourselves,” and he -glanced fondly at the handsome black-haired young woman under -discussion. “We should be pleased to have you join us,” and he included -Mrs. Boyd and the young rector with a nod. - -“Of course we’ll come,” agreed Gail. “Doctor Boyd, can’t you arrange for -a week-end party once in your life?” - -“Unfortunately custom has decreed that week-end parties shall cover -Sundays,” he regretted, but there was a calculating look in his eye -which sent Lucile over to him. - -“Play hooky just once,” she begged. “This is only a family crowd, the -Babbitts and Marion Kenneth, and we who are here.” - -The Reverend Smith Boyd looked at his mother, and that lady brightened -visibly. - -“When is it to be?” he asked. - -“Saturday,” Arly informed him, joining Lucile, who had sat on the arm of -Mrs. Boyd’s chair. Arly sat on the other one, and Gerald Fosland, with -an entirely new appreciation of beauty, thought he had never seen a -prettier picture than the sweet-faced old lady with the fresh and -charming young women on either side of her. - -The Reverend Smith Boyd glanced, for just an instant, at Gail, who was -now sitting on the leather couch leaning confidingly against her Aunt -Grace. He had been at some pains to avoid this young lady recently, for -it is natural to spare one’s self distress; but there was a look of -loneliness about her which sent his heart out to her in quick sympathy. - -“I think I’ll play hooky,” he announced, with a twinkle in the eyes -which he now cast upon his mother. - -“That’s being a good sport,” approved Ted. “Stay away a Sunday or two, -and Market Square Church will appreciate you better.” - -“Let’s have some music,” demanded Lucile. - -“Gail and Doctor Boyd must sing for you,” announced Aunt Grace, in whom -there was a trace of wistfulness. “They do sing so beautifully -together!” - -“I’m afraid I can’t to-night,” refused Gail hastily, and indeed she had -good reason why her voice should not have its firm and true quality just -now. “I will accompany Doctor Boyd, though, with pleasure,” and she -started toward the music room. - -The Reverend Smith Boyd was cut off from the ordinary lies about not -being in good voice, and suffering from a slight cold, and such things. -He hesitated a moment, and then he followed. - -The Bedouin Love Song, the Garden of Sleep, and others of the solo -repertoire which Gail had selected for him, came pulsing out of the -music room, first hesitantly, and then with more strength, as the -friendly nearness between himself and the accompanist became better -established. - -Presently, the listeners in the library noticed an unusual pause between -the songs, a low voiced discussion, and then, the two perfectly blended -voices rose in a harmony so perfect that there was moisture in the eyes -of two of the ladies present. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - GAIL FIRST! - - -Allison, springing forward with a jerk as he left Jim Sargent’s house, -headed his long, low runabout up the Avenue. He raced into the Park, and -glanced up at the lookout house as he sped on past; but it was only a -fleeting look. He needed no reminder of Gail, and he scarcely noticed -that he was following the same road which they had so often taken -together. His only impulse had been to drive somewhere at top speed, and -he had automatically chosen this path. The night was damp and chill, but -his evening top coat was open, revealing the white glint of his shirt -front. He did not seem to mind. As he passed Roseleaf Inn, he slowed -down. The roadhouse may have given him, and probably did, another -reminder of Gail, in such a manner as to concrete him into logical -thought; for he slowed down the terrific speed which had been the -accompaniment of his unreasoning emotion. The driving required too much -concentration for specific thought. - -With this turning of his mental attitude, even the slow running of the -car seemed to disturb him, and, about half a mile past Roseleaf Inn, he -came slowly to a stop, sitting at the wheel, with his head bent slightly -forward, and staring at the spot where the roadway had ceased to roll -beneath his machine. Presently he became aware of the cold, and running -his car to the side of the road, he stepped out, and, buttoning his coat -around him, crossed a fence and walked through the narrow strip of trees -to the river bank, where he stood for a moment looking out upon the -misty Hudson, sparkling under the moonlight. He began to walk up and -down the bank presently, the turf sinking spongily under his feet, and -it was noticeable that his pace grew more and more rapid, until he was -striding at a furious rate of speed. - -The man was in a torment of passion. He had spent a lifetime in the -deliberate acquisition of everything upon which he had set his will; and -it was one of the things upon which he had built his success, that, once -he had fixed his desire deliberately upon anything, he had held -unwaveringly to that object, employing all the forces of which strong -men are capable; patient waiting, dogged persistence, or vicious -grappling, whichever was best adapted to gain his ends. - -Gail! If there had been tender thoughts of her, they were gone now. He -saw her in a thousand enchantments; sitting beside him, clad in the -white furs which added such piquancy to her rosy cheeks and sparkling -eyes; lounging in the library, in some filmy, clinging robe which -defined her grace, half concealing and half suggesting the long, -delicately curving lines which had so appealed to his ruthlessness; -sitting at the piano, her beautiful small head slightly bent forward, -displaying the requisite line at the nape of her neck, her brown hair -waving backward to a simple knot, her rounded white arms free from the -elbows, and her slender fingers flashing over the keys; coming down the -stairway, in the filmy cream lace gown which had made her seem so -girlishly fragile, her daintily blue slippered feet and her beautifully -turned ankles giving a hint of the grace and suppleness of her whole -self; in her black beaded ball costume, its sparkling deadness -displaying the exquisite ivory tints and beautiful colouring of her neck -and shoulders and bosom with startling effectiveness. In these and a -thousand other glowing pictures he saw her, and with every added picture -there came a new pain in his thought of her. - -He felt the warmth of her hand upon his arm, the brush of her shoulder -against his own, the mere elbow touch as she sat beside him in the car, -the many little careless contacts of daily life, unconscious to her, but -to him fraught always with flame; and, finally, that maddening moment -when he had crushed her in his arms, and so had made, for all time to -come, the possession of her a necessity almost maniacal in the violence -of its determination! He heard the sound of her voice, in all its -enchanting cadences, from the sweetness of her murmured asides to the -ring of her laugh; and the delicate fragrance which was a part of her -overwhelmed him now, in remembrance, like an unnerving faintness! - -It was so that he had centred his mind upon her, and himself and his -will, until, in all creation, there was nothing else but that was -trivial; ambition, power, wealth, fame, the command of empires and of -men, were nothing, except as they might lead to her! - -As a boy Allison had been endowed with extraordinary strength. From a -mother who had married beneath her socially he had inherited a certain -redeeming refinement of taste, a richness of imagination, a turn of -extravagance, a certain daring and confidence. Had his heredity been -left to the father alone, he would have developed into a mere brute, -fighting for the love of inflicting pain, his ambitions confined to -physical supremacy alone. As it was, the combination had made of him a -brute more dangerous by the addition of intelligence. In spite of gentle -surroundings, he had persistently ran away to play in a rough and tumble -neighbourhood, where he had been the terror of boys a head taller than -himself, and had established an unquestioned tyranny among them. He had -a passion at that time for killing cats, and a devilish ingenuity in -devising new modes of torture for them, saturating them with gasolene -and burning them alive, and other such ghastly amusements. The cruelty -of this he had from the father, the ingenuity from the mother. In a -fleeting introspection, a review which could have occupied but a few -seconds of time, he saw back through the years of his passion, for every -year had been a passion of supremacy, as if the cinematograph of his -life had flashed swiftly before him, pausing for illumination at certain -points which had marked the attainment of hard-won goals. - -The days of his schooling, when the mother in him had made him crave -knowledge in spite of the physical instincts which drove him out doors. -He accomplished both. He went at his lessons viciously, perhaps because -they were something which had a tendency to baffle him, and he had made -no braver fights in life than on those lonely nights when, angry and -determined, he had grappled with his books and conquered them. He had -won football honours at the same time. It was said that half the -victories of his team came through the fear of Allison on the opposing -elevens. He had the reputation of being a demon on the gridiron. His -eyes became slightly bloodshot in every contest, and he went into every -battle with a smile on his lips which was more like a snarl. His rise to -football supremacy was well remembered all through life by a dozen -cripples. He had been extremely fond of football, even after one of his -strongest opponents had been carried from the field with a broken neck. - -Then business. A different sort of cruelty entered there. He had a -method of advancement which was far more effective than adroitness. With -the same vicious fever of achievement which had marked the conquering of -his books, he had made himself flawlessly efficient, and had contrasted -himself deliberately with whatever weakness he could find in his -superiors. On the day when the superintendent drank, Allison took -especial pains to create an emergency, a break-down in the power plant, -and showed himself side by side with the temporarily stupid -superintendent, clear-eyed, firm-jawed, glowing cheeked, ready to -grapple with his own emergency. He became superintendent. Trickery, now. -A block of stock here, a block of stock there, a combination of small -holdings by which an unsuspected group of outsiders swept in with -control of that first little street car company. Allison’s was the -smallest block of shares in that combination, infinitesimal as compared -with the total capitalisation of the company, the investment of his -small savings combined with all the borrowing he could manage. Yet, -since he had organised the rebellion, he was left in its control by the -same personal dominance with which he had brought together the warring -elements. Less than two years after his accession to management, he had -frozen out the associates who had put him in power. They none of them -knew how it was done, but they did know that he had taken advantage of -every tricky opportunity his position gave him, and they were bitter -about it. He laughed at them, and he thrashed the man who complained -loudest, a man who had lost every cent of his money through Allison’s -manipulations. Well, that was the way of business. The old rule of -conquest that might makes right had only gone out of favour as applied -to physical oppression. In everything else, it still prevailed; and -Allison was its chief exponent. - -The years of manhood. The panorama was a swiftly moving one now. -Combinations and consolidations had followed closely one upon the other; -brilliant and bewildering shiftings of the pieces on the chess board of -his particular business. Other players had become confused in all these -kaleidoscopic changes, some of which had seemed meaningless; but not -Allison. Every shift left him in a position of more ruthless advantage, -even in those moves which were intended only to create confusion; and he -pushed steadily forward towards the one mark he had set; that there -should eventually be none other in the field than himself! It was -because he never flagged that he could do this. At no summit had he ever -paused for gratification over the extent of his climb, for a backward -glance over his fiercely contended pathway, for refreshment, for breath; -but, with that exhaustless physical vitality inherited from his father -and mental vitality inherited from his mother, he had kept his pace -forward, plunging onward, from summit to still higher summit, and never -asking that there might be one highest peak to which he could attain, -and rest! True, sometimes he had thought, on the upward way, that at the -summit he might pause, but had that summit been the highest, with none -other luring him in the distant sky, he would have been disappointed. - -So it was that he had come this far, and the roadway to his present -height was marked by the cripples he had left behind him, without -compunction, without mercy, without compassion. Bankrupts strewed his -way, broken men of purpose higher than his own, useful factors in the -progress of human life, builders and creators who had advanced the -interest of the commonwealth, but who had been more brilliant in -construction than they had been in reaping the rewards of their -building. It was for Allison to do this. It had been his specialty; the -reaping of rewards. It had been his faculty to permit others to build, -to encourage them in it, and then, when the building was done, to wrest -it away from the builders. That marked him as the greatest commercial -genius of his time; and he had much applause for it. - -Women. Yes, there had been women, creatures of a common mould with whom -he had amused himself, had taken them in their freshness, and broken -them, and thrown them away; this in his earlier years. But in his -maturity, he had bent all his strength to a greater passion; the -acquirement of all those other things which men had wanted and held most -dear, among them acquisition, and power, and success. Perhaps it had -been bad for him, this concentration, for now it left him, at the height -of his maturity, with mistaken fancies, with long pent fires, with -disproportionate desires. Bringing to these, he had the tremendously -abnormal moral effect of never having been thwarted in a thing upon -which he had set his mind, and of believing, by past accomplishment, -that anything upon which he had set his wish must be his, or else every -victory he had ever gained would be swept aside and made of no value. He -must accomplish, or die! - -He was without God, this man; he had nothing within him which conceded, -for a moment, a greater power than his own. In all his mental imagery, -which was rich enough in material things, there was no conception of a -Deity, or of a need for one. To what should he pray, and for what, when -he had himself to rely upon? Worship was an idealistic diversion, a -poetic illusion, the refuge of the weak, who excused their lack of -strength by ascribing it to a mysterious something beyond the control of -any man. He tolerated the popular notion that there must be a God, as he -tolerated codes of social ethics; the conventions which laid down, for -instance, what a gentleman might or might not do, externally, and still -remain a gentleman. In the meantime, if a man-made law came between him -and the accomplishment of his ends, he broke it, without a trace of -thought that he might be wrong. Laws were the mutual safeguard of the -weak, to protect themselves against the encroachment of the strong; and -it was in the equally natural province of the strong to break down those -safeguards. In the same way he disregarded moral laws. They, too, were -for the upholding of the weak, and the mere fact that they existed was -proof enough that they were an acknowledgment of the right of the strong -to break them. - -There is a mistake here. It lies in the statement that Allison -recognised no God. He did. Allison. Not Allison, the man, but the -unconquerable will of Allison, a will which was a divinity in itself. He -believed in it, centred on it all his faith, poured out to it all the -fervidness of his heart, of his mind, of his spirit, of his body. He -worshipped it! - -So it was that he came to the consideration of the one thing which had -attempted to deny itself to him. Gail! It seemed monstrous to him that -she had set herself against him. It was incredible that she should have -a will, which, if she persisted, should prove superior to his own. Why, -he had set his mind upon her from the first! The time had suddenly -arrived when he was ripe for her, and she had come. He had not even -given a thought to the many suitors who had dangled about her. She was -for none of them. She was for him, and he had waited in patience until -she was tired of amusing herself, and until he had wrought the big -ambition towards which her coming, and her impulse, and the new fire she -had kindled in him, had directed him. She had been seriously in earnest -in withholding herself from him. She was determined upon it. She -believed now, in her soul, that she could keep to that determination. At -first he had been amused by it, as a man holds off the angry onslaught -of a child; but, in this last interview with her, there had come a -moment when he had felt his vast compulsion valueless; and it had -angered him. - -A flame raged through his veins which fairly shook him with its -violence. It was not only the reflex of his determination to have her, -but it was the terrific need of her which had grown up in him. Have her? -Of course he would have her! If she would not come to him willingly, he -would take her! If she could not share in the ecstasy of possession -which he had so long anticipated, she need not. She was not to be -considered in it any more than he had considered any other adverse -factor in the attainment of anything he had desired. He was possessed of -a rage now, which centred itself upon one object, and one alone. Gail! -She was his new summit, his new peak, the final one where he had planned -to rest; but now his angry thought was to attain it, and spurn it, -broken and crumbled, as had been all the other barriers to his will, and -press ruthlessly onward into higher skies, he knew not where. It was no -time now, to think on that. Gail first! - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - THE FLUTTER OF A SHEET OF MUSIC - - -Gail, in a pretty little rose-coloured morning robe, with soft frills of -lace around her white throat and at her white elbows, sat on the floor -of the music room amid a chaos of sheet music. She was humming a gay -little song suggested by one of the titles through which she had leafed, -and was gradually sorting her music for the yacht party; instrumental -pieces here, popular things there, another little pile of old-fashioned -glees which the assembled crowd might sing, just here a little stack of -her own solos, nearby the rector’s favourites, between the two their -duets. It was her part in one of the latter she was humming now, -missing, as she sang, the strong accompaniment of the Reverend Smith -Boyd’s mellow voice. She was more peaceful this morning than she had -been for many days. - -The butler came through the hall, and Gail looked up with a suppressed -giggle as she saw him pass the door. She always had an absurd idea that -his hinges should be oiled. - -“Miss Gail is not at home, sir,” she heard the butler say, and Gail -paused with a sheet of music suspended in her hand, the whole expression -of her face changing. She had only given instructions that one person -should receive that invariable message. - -“I beg your pardon, sir!” was the next observation Gail heard, in a tone -of as near startled remonstrance as was possible to the butler’s wooden -voice. - -There was a sound almost as of a scuffle, and then Allison, with his top -coat on his arm and his hat in his hand, strode to the doorway of the -music room, followed immediately by the butler, who looked as if his -hair had been peeled a little at the edges. Allison had apparently -brushed roughly past him, and had disturbed his equanimity for the -balance of his life. - -Gail was on her feet almost instantaneously with the apparition in the -doorway, and she still held the sheet of music which she had been about -to deposit on one of the piles. Allison’s eyes had a queer effect of -being sunken, and there was a strange nervous tension in him. Gail -dismissed the butler with a nod. - -“You were informed that I am not at home,” she said. - -“I meant to see you,” he replied, with a certain determined insolence in -his tone which she could not escape. There was a triumph in it, too, as -if his having swept the butler aside were only a part of his imperious -intention. “I have some things to say to you to which you must listen.” - -“You had better say them all then, because this is your last -opportunity,” she told him, pale with anger, and with a quaver in her -voice which she would have given much to suppress. - -He cast on her a look which blazed. He had not slept since he had seen -her last. He smiled, and the smile was a snarl, displaying his teeth. -Something more than anger crept into Gail’s pallor. - -“I have come to ask you again to marry me, Gail. The matter is too vital -to be let pass without the most serious effort of which I am capable. I -can not do without you. I have a need for you which is greater than -anything of which you could conceive. I come to you humbly, Gail, to ask -you to reconsider your hasty answer of last night. I want you to marry -me.” - -For just a moment his eyes had softened, and Gail felt a slight trace of -pity for him; but in the pity itself there was revulsion. - -“I can not,” she told him. - -“You must!” he immediately rejoined. “As I would build up an empire to -win you, I would destroy one to win you. You spoke last night of what -you called the cruelty and trickery of the building up of my big -transportation monopoly. If it is that which stands between us, it shall -not do so for a moment longer. Marry me, and I will stop it just where -it is. Why, I only built this for you, and if you don’t like it, I shall -have nothing to do with it.” In that he lied, and consciously. He knew -that the moment he had made sure of her his ambition to conquer would -come uppermost again, and that he would pursue his dream of conquest -with even more ardour than before, because he had been refreshed. - -“That would make no difference, Mr. Allison,” she replied. “I told you, -last night, that I would not marry you because I do not, and could not, -love you. There does not need to be any other reason.” There was in her -an inexplicable tension, a reflex of his own, but, though her face was -still pale, she stood very calmly before him. - -The savageness which was in him, held too long in leash, sprang into his -face, his eyes, his lips, the set of his jaws. He advanced a step -towards her. His hands contracted. - -“I shall not again ask you to love me,” he harshly stated; “but you must -marry me. I have made up my mind to that.” - -“Impossible!” Angry now and contemptuous. - -“I’ll make you! There is no resource I will not use. I’ll bankrupt your -family. I’ll wipe it off the earth.” - -Gail’s nails were pressing into her palms. She felt that her lips were -cold. Her eyes were widening, as the horror of him began to grow on her. -He was glaring at her now, and there was no attempt to conceal the -savage cruelty on his face. - -“I’ll compromise you,” he went on. “I’ll connect your name with mine in -such a way that marriage with me will be your only resource. I’ll be an -influence you can’t escape. There will not be a step you can take in -which you will not feel that I am the master of it. Marry you? I’ll have -you if it takes ten years! I’ll have no other end in life. I’ll put into -that one purpose all the strength, and all the will that I have put into -the accomplishment of everything which I have done; and the longer you -delay me the sooner I’ll break you when I do get you.” - -Out of her very weakness had come strength; out of her overwhelming -humiliation had come pride, and though the blood had left her face waxen -and cold, something within her discovered a will which was as strong in -resistance as his was in attack. She knew it, and trembled in the -knowledge of it. - -“You can’t make me marry you,” she said, with infinite scorn and -contempt. - -He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Into his eyes there sprang -a blaze which she had never before seen, but dimly, in the eyes of any -man; but she needed no experience to tell her its despicable meaning. -His lips, which had been snarling, suddenly took a downward twitch, and -were half parted. His nostrils were distended, and the blood, flooding -into his face, empurpled it. - -“Then I’ll have you anyhow!” he hoarsely told her, and, his arms tensed -and his head slightly lowered forward, he made as if to advance toward -her. He saw in her frightened eyes that she would scream, but he did not -know that at that moment she could not. Her heart seemed to have lost -its action, and she stood, trembling, faint, in the midst of her strewn -music, with the sensation that the room was turning dark. - -The house was very quiet. Mrs. Sargent and Mrs. Davies were upstairs. -The servants were all in the rear of the house, or below, or in the -upper rooms, at their morning work. He turned swiftly and closed the -door of the music room, then he whirled again towards her, with ferocity -in his eyes. He came slowly, every movement of him alive with ponderous -strength. He was a maniac. He was insane. He was frenzied by one mad -thought which had swept out of his universe every other consideration, -and the glut to kill was no more fearful than the purpose which -possessed him now. - -Gail, standing slight, fragile, her brown eyes staring, her brown hair -dishevelled about her white brow, felt every atom of strength leaving -her, devoured in the overwhelming might of this monstrous creature. The -sheet of music, which she had been holding all this time, dropped from -her nerveless fingers and fluttered to the floor! - -That noise, slight as it was, served to arrest the progress of the man -for just an instant. He was in no frame to reason, but some instinct -urged him to speed. He crouched slightly, as a wild beast might. But the -flutter of that sheet of music had done more for Gail than it had for -him. It had loosed the paralysis which had held her, had broken the -fascination of horror with which she had been spellbound. Just behind -her was a low French window which led to a small side balcony. With one -bound she burst this open, she did not know how, and had leaped over the -light balcony rail, and ran across the lawn to the rectory gate, up the -steps and into the side door, and into the study, where the Reverend -Smith Boyd sat toiling over a sermon. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - GAIL BREAKS A PROMISE - - -The _Whitecap_ would have been under way except for the delay of the gay -little Mrs. Babbitt and her admiring husband, who sent word that they -could not arrive until after dinner, so the yacht, long and low and -slender and glistening white, lay in the middle of the Hudson River, -while her guests, bundled warmly against the crisp breeze, gathered in -the forward shelter deck and watched the beginnings of the early sunset. - -“I like Doctor Boyd in his yachting cap,” commented Lucile, as that -young man joined them, with a happy mother on his arm. - -“It takes away that deadly clerical effect,” laughed Arly. “His long -coat makes him look like the captain, and he’s ever so much more -handsome.” - -“I don’t mind being the topic of discussion so long as I’m present,” -commented the Reverend Smith Boyd, glancing around the group as if in -search of some one. - -“It rather restricts the conversation,” Mrs. Helen Davies observed, at -the same time watching, with a smile, the tableau of her sister Grace -and Jim Sargent. Gail and herself had taken Grace out shopping, and had -forced on her sedate taste a neat and “fetching” yachting costume, from -flowing veiled cap to white shoes, which had dropped about twenty years -from her usual appearance, and had brought a renewed enthusiasm to the -eyes of her husband. - -The cherub-cheeked Marion Kenneth glanced wistfully over at the rail -where Dick Rodley, vieing with the sunset in splendour, stood chatting -with easy Ted Teasdale and the stiff Gerald Fosland. - -“Where’s Gail?” demanded the cherub-cheeked one. - -“It’s time that young lady was up on deck,” decided Arly, and rose. - -“She’s probably taking advantage of the opportunity to dress for -dinner,” surmised Mrs. Davies. “In fact, I think it’s a good idea for -all of us,” but the sunset was too potent to leave for a few moments, -and she sat still. - -Where indeed was Gail? In her beautiful little curly maple stateroom, -sitting on the edge of a beautiful little curly maple bed, and digging -two small fists into the maple-brown coverlet. The pallor of the morning -had not yet left her face, and there were circles around the brown eyes -which gave them a wan pathos; there was a crease of pain and worry, too, -in the white brow. - -Gail had come to the greatest crisis in her life. To begin with, -Allison. She would not permit herself to dwell on the most horrible part -of her experience with him. That she put out of her mind, as best she -could, with a shudder. She hoped, in the time to come, to be free of the -picture of him as he advanced slowly towards her in the music room, with -that frenzied glare in his eyes and that terrifying evil look upon his -face. She hoped, in the time to come, to be free of that awful fear -which seemed to have gripped her heart with a clutch that had left deep -imprints upon it, but, just now, she let the picture and the fear remain -before her eyes and in her heart, and centred upon her grave -responsibilities. - -So far she had told no one of what had occurred that morning. When she -had rushed into the rector’s study he had sprung up, and, seeing the -fright in her face and that she was tottering and ready to fall, he had -caught her in his strong arms, and she had clung trustfully to him, half -faint, until wild sobs had come to her relief. Even in her incoherence, -however, even in her wild disorder of emotion, she realised that there -was danger, not only to her but to every one she loved, in the man from -whom she had run away; and she could not tell the young rector any more -than that she had been frightened. Had she so much as mentioned the name -of Allison, she instinctively knew that the Reverend Smith Boyd, in whom -there was some trace of impetuosity, might certainly have forgotten his -cloth and become mere man, and have strode straight across to the house -before Allison could have collected his dazed wits; and she did not dare -add that encounter to her list of woes. It was strange how instinctively -she had headed for the Reverend Smith Boyd’s study; strange then, but -not now. In that moment of flying straight to the protection of his -arms, she knew something about herself, and about the Reverend Smith -Boyd, too. She knew now why she had refused Howard Clemmens, and Willis -Cunningham, and Houston Van Ploon, and Dick Rodley; poor Dick! and -Allison, and all the others. She frankly and complacently admitted to -herself that she loved the Reverend Smith Boyd, but she put that -additional worry into the background. It could be fought out later. She -would have been very happy about it if she had had time, although she -could see no end to that situation but unhappiness. - -These threats of Allison’s. How far could he go with them, how far could -he make them true? All the way. She had a sickening sense that there was -no idleness in his threats. He had both the will and the power to carry -them out. He would bankrupt her family; he would employ slander against -her, from which the innocent have less defence than the guilty; he would -set himself viciously to wreck her happiness at every turn. The long arm -of his vindictiveness would follow her to her home, and set a barrier of -scandalous report even between her and her friends. - -But let her first take up the case of her Uncle Jim. She had not dared -go with her news to hot-tempered Jim Sargent. His first impulse would -have been one of violence, and she could not see that a murder on her -soul, and her Uncle Jim in jail as a murderer, and her name figuring -large, with her photograph in the pages of the free and entirely -uncurbed metropolitan press, would help any one in the present dilemma. -Yet even a warning, to her Uncle Jim, of impending financial danger -might bring about this very same result, for he had a trick of turning -suddenly from the kind and indulgent and tremendously admiring uncle, -into a stern parent, and firing one imperative question after another at -her, in the very image and likeness of her own father; and that was an -authoritative process which she knew she could not resist. Yet Uncle Jim -must be protected! How? It was easy enough to say that he must be, and -yet could he be? Could he even protect himself? She shook her head as -she gazed, with unseeing eyes, out of the daintily curtained port hole -upon the river, with its swarm of bustling small craft. - -Where to turn for advice, or even to have a sharer in the burden which -she felt must surely crush her. There was no one. It was a burden she -must bear alone, unless she could devise some plan of effective action, -and the sense of how far she had been responsible for this condition of -affairs was one which oppressed her, and humbled her, and deepened the -circles about her woe-smitten eyes. - -She had been guilty. In a rush of remorse and repentance, she -over-blamed herself. She did not allow, in her severe self-injustice, -for the natural instincts which had led her into a full and free -commingling with all this new circle; for, as Arly later put it for her -by way of comfort, how was she to know if she did not find out. Now, -however, she allowed herself no grain of comfort, or sympathy, or -relief, from the stern self-arraignment through which she put herself. -She had been wicked, she told herself. Had she delved deeply enough into -her own heart, and acknowledged what she saw there, and had she abided -by that knowledge, she could have spared her many suitors a part of the -pain and humiliation she had caused them by her refusal. She had not -been surprised by any of them. With the infliction of but very slight -pain, she could have stopped them long before they came to the point of -proposal, she saw that now. Why had she not done so? Pride! That was the -answer. The pleasure of being so eagerly sought, the actually spoken -evidence of her popularity, and the flattery of having aroused in all -these big men emotions so strong that they took the sincere form of the -offering of a lifetime of devotion. And she, who had prated to herself -so seriously of marriage, had held it as so sacred a thing, she had so -toyed with it, and had toyed, too, with that instinct in these good men! - -In the light of her experience with Allison, she began to distrust her -own sincerity, and for some minutes she floundered in that Slough of -Despond. - -But no, out of that misery she was able to emerge clear of soul. Her -worst fault had been folly. An instinctive groping for that other part -of her, which nature had set somewhere, unlabelled, to make of the twain -a complete and perfect human entity, had led her into all her -entanglements, even with Allison. And again the darkness deepened around -her troubled eyes. - -After all, had she but known it, she had a greater fault than folly. -Inexperience. Her charm was another, her youth, her beauty, her -virility—and her sympathy! These were her true faults, and the ones for -which every attractive girl must suffer. There is no escape. It is the -great law of compensation. Nature bestows no gift of value for which she -does not exact a corresponding price. - -Gail took her little fists from their pressure into the brown coverlet, -and held her temples between the fingertips of either hand; and the -brown hair, springing into wayward ringlets from the salt-breeze which -blew in at the half opened window, rippled down over her slender hands, -as if to soothe and comfort them. She had been wasting her time in -introspection and self-analysis when there was need for decisive action! -Fortunately she had a respite until Monday morning. In the past few days -of huge commercial movements which so vitally interested her, she had -become acquainted with business methods, to a certain extent, and she -knew that nothing could be done on Saturday afternoon or Sunday; -therefore her Uncle Jim was safe for two nights and a day. Then Allison -would deny the connection of her Uncle Jim’s road with the A.-P., and -the beginning of the destruction of the Sargent family would be -thoroughly accomplished! She had been given a thorough grasp of how -easily that could be done. What could she do in two nights and a day? It -was past her ingenuity to conceive. She must have help! - -But from whom could she receive it? Tod Boyd? The same reason which made -her think of him first made her swiftly place him last. Her Uncle Jim? -Too hotheaded. Her Aunt Grace? Too inexperienced. Her Aunt Helen? Too -conventional. Lucile, Ted, Dick? She laughed. Arly? - -There was a knock on her door, and Arly herself appeared. - -“Selfish,” chided Arly. “We’re all wanting you.” - -“That’s comforting,” smiled Gail. “I have just been being all alone in -the world, on the most absolutely deserted island of which you can -conceive. Arly, sit down. I want to tell you something.” - -The black hair and the brown hair cuddled close together, while Gail, -her tongue once loosened, poured out in a torrent all the pent-up misery -which had been accumulating within her for the past tempestuous weeks; -and Arly, her eyes glistening with the excitement of it all, kept her -exclamations of surprise and fright and indignation and horror, and -everything else, strictly to such low monosyllables as would not impede -the gasping narration. - -“I’d like to kill him!” said Arly, in a low voice of startling -intensity, and jumping to her feet she paced up and down the confines of -the little stateroom. Among all the other surprises of recent events, -there was none more striking than this vast change in the usually cool -and sarcastic Arly, who had not, until her return from Gail’s home, -permitted herself an emotion in two years. She came back to the bed with -a sudden swift knowledge that Gail had been dry-eyed all through this -recital, though her lips were quivering. She should have cried. Instead -she was sitting straight up, staring at Arly with patient inquiry. She -had told all her dilemma, and all her grief, and all her fear; and now -she was waiting. - -“The only way in which that person can be prevented from attacking your -Uncle Jim, which would be his first step, is to attack him before he can -do anything,” said Arly, pacing up and down, her fingers clasped behind -her slender back, her black brows knotted, her graceful head bent toward -the floor. - -“He is too powerful,” protested Gail. - -“That makes him weak,” returned Arly quickly. “In every great power -there is one point of great weakness. Tell me again about this -tremendously big world monopoly.” - -Patiently, and searching her memory for details, Gail recited over again -all which Allison had told her about his wonderful plan of empire; and -even now, angry and humiliated and terror stricken as she was, Gail -could not repress a feeling of admiration for the bigness of it. It was -that which had impressed her in the beginning. - -“It’s wonderful,” commented Arly, catching a trace of that spirit of the -exultation which hangs upon the unfolding of fairyland; and she began to -pace the floor again. “Why, Gail, it is the most colossal piece of -thievery the world has ever known!” And she walked in silence for a -time. “That is the thing upon which we can attack him. We are going to -stop it.” - -Gail rose, too. - -“How?” she asked. “Arly, we couldn’t, just we two girls!” - -“Why not?” demanded Arly, stopping in front of her. “Any plan like that -must be so full of criminal crookedness that exposure alone is enough to -put an end to it.” - -“Exposure,” faltered Gail, and struggled automatically with a lifelong -principle. “It was told to me in confidence.” - -Arly looked at her in astonishment. - -“I could shake you,” she declared, and instead put her arm around Gail. -“Did that person betray no confidence when he came to your uncle’s house -this morning! Moreover, he told you this merely to over-awe you with the -glitter of what he had done. He made that take the place of love! -Confidence! I’ll never do anything with so much pleasure in my life as -to betray yours right now! If you don’t expose that person, I will! If -there’s any way we can damage him, I intend to see that it is done; and -if there’s any way after that to damage him again and again, I want to -do it!” - -For the first time in that miserable day, Gail felt a thrill of hope, -and Arly, at that moment, had, to her, the aspect of a colossal figure, -an angel of brightness in the night of her despair! She felt that she -could afford to sob now, and she did it. - -“Do you suppose that would save Uncle Jim?” she asked, when they had -both finished a highly comforting time together. - -“It will save everybody,” declared Arly. - -“I hope so,” pondered Gail. “But we can’t do it ourselves, Arly. Whom -shall we get to help us?” - -The smile on Arly’s face was a positive illumination for a moment, and -then she laughed. - -“Gerald,” she replied. “You don’t know what a dear he is!” and she rang -for a cabin boy. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII - GERALD FOSLAND MAKES A SPEECH - - -Gerald Fosland, known to be so formal that he had once dressed to answer -an emergency call from a friend at the hospital, because the message -came in at six o’clock, surprised his guests by appearing before them, -in the salon just before dinner, in his driving coat and with his motor -cap in his hand. - -“Sorry,” he informed them, with his stiff bow, “but an errand of such -importance that it can not be delayed, causes Mrs. Fosland and myself to -return to the city immediately for an hour or so. I am sincerely -apologetic, and I trust that you will have a jolly dinner.” - -“Is Gail going with you?” inquired the alert Mrs. Helen Davies, -observing Gail in the gangway adjusting her furs. - -“She has to chaperon me, while Gerald is busy,” Arly glibly explained. -“Onery, Orey, Ickery, Ann, Filison, Foloson, Nicholas, John; Queevy, -Quavy, English Navy, Stigalum, Stagalum, Buck. You’re it, Aunt Grace,” -counted out Arly. “You and Uncle Jim have to be hosts. Good-bye!” and -she sailed out to the deck, followed by the still troubled Gail, who -managed to accomplish the laughing adieus for which Arly had set the -precedence. - -A swift ride in the launch, in the cool night air, to the landing; a -brisk walk to the street, and, since no one had expected to come ashore -until Monday, a search for a taxi; then Gerald, chatting with correct -pleasantness through his submerged preoccupation, having seen the ladies -safe under shelter, even if it were but the roof of a night hawk taxi, -stopped at the first saloon, a queer place, of a sodden type which he -had never before seen and would never see again. There he phoned half a -dozen messages. There were four eager young men waiting in the reception -room of the Fosland house, when Gerald’s party arrived, and three more -followed them up the steps. - -Gerald aided in divesting the ladies of their wraps, and slipped his own -big top coat into the hands of William, and saw to his tie and the set -of his waistcoat and the smoothness of his hair, before he stalked into -the reception parlour and bowed stiffly. - -“Gentlemen,” he observed, giving his moustache one last smoothing, -“first of all, have you brought with you the written guarantees which I -required from your respective chiefs, that, in whatsoever comes from the -information I am about to give you, the names of your informants shall, -under no circumstances, appear in print?” - -One luckless young man, a fat-cheeked one, with a pucker in the corner -of his lips where his cigar should have been, was unable to produce the -necessary document, and he was under a scrutiny too close to give him a -chance to write it. - -“Sorry,” announced Gerald, with polite contrition. “As this is a very -strict condition, I must ask you to leave the room while I address the -remaining gentlemen.” - -The remaining gentlemen, of whom there were now eleven, grinned -appreciatively. Hickey would have been the best newspaper man in New -York if he were not such a careless slob. He was so good that he was the -only man from the _Planet_. The others had sent two, and three; for -Gerald’s message, while very simple, had been most effective. He had -merely announced that he was prepared to provide them with an -international sensation, involving some hundreds of billions of -dollars—and he had given his right name! - -The unfortunate Hickey made a violent pretence of search through all his -pockets. - -“I must have lost it,” he piteously declared. “Won’t you take my written -word that you won’t be mentioned?” and he looked up at the splendidly -erect Gerald with that honest appeal in his eyes which had deceived so -many. - -“Sorry,” announced Gerald; “but it wouldn’t be sportsmanlike, since it -would be quite unfair to these other gentlemen.” - -“Hold the stuff ’til I telephone,” begged Hickey. “Say, if I get that -written guarantee up here in fifteen minutes, will it do?” - -Gerald looked him speculatively in the eye. - -“If you telephone, and can then assure me, on your word of honour, that -the document I require shall be in the house before you leave, I shall -permit you to remain,” he decreed; and Hickey looked him quite soberly -in the eye for half a minute. - -“I’ll have it here all right,” he decided, and sprang for the telephone, -and came back in three minutes with his word of honour. They could hear -him, from the library, yelling, from the time he gave the number until -he hung up the receiver, and if there was ever urgency in a man’s voice, -it was in the voice of Hickey. - -Gerald Fosland took a commanding position in the corner of the room, -where he could see the countenances of each of the eager young gentlemen -present. He stood behind a chair, with his hands on the back of it, in -his favourite position for responding to a toast. - -“Gentlemen; Edward E. Allison (_Twelve young gentlemen who had been -leaning forward with strained interest, and their mouths half open to -help them hear, suddenly jerked bolt upright. The little squib over -under the statue of Diana, dropped his lead pencil, and came up with a -purple face. Hickey, with a notebook two inches wide in one hand, jabbed -down a scratch to represent Allison_) is about to complete a -transportation system encircling the globe. (_The little squib on the -end choked on his tongue. Hickey made a ring on his note pad, to -represent the globe, and while he waited for the sensation to subside, -put a buckle on it._) The acquisition of the foreign railroads will be -made possible only by a war, which is already arranged. (_The little -squib got writer’s cramp. Hickey waited for details. The hollow-cheeked -reporter grabbed for a cigarette, but with no intention of lighting -it._) The war, which will be between Germany and France, will begin -within a month. France, unable to raise a war fund otherwise, will sell -her railroads. The Russian line is already being taken from its present -managers, and will be turned over to Allison’s world syndicate within a -week. The important steamship lines will become involved in financial -difficulties, which have already been set afoot in England. Following -these events will come a successful rebellion in India, and the -independence of all the British colonies. (_The little squib laid down -his pencil, and sat in open-mouthed despair. He was three sentences -behind, and knew that he would be compelled to trust his memory and his -imagination, and neither were equal to this task. Hickey had seven -serene jabs on his notebook, and was peacefully framing his introductory -paragraph. A seraphic smile was on his thick lips, and his softened eyes -were gazing fondly into the fields of rich fancy. The hollow-cheeked -young man had cocked his cigarette perpendicularly, and he was writing a -few words with artistic precision. The red-headed reporter was tearing -off page after page of his notebook and stuffing them loosely in his -pocket. One of the boys, a thick-breasted one with large hands, was -making microscopic notes on the back of an envelope, and had plenty of -room to spare._) You will probably require some tangible evidence that -these large plans are on the way to fulfilment. I call your attention to -the fact that, last week, the Russian Duomo began a violent agitation -over the removal of Olaf Petrovy, who was the controller of the entire -Russian railroad system. Day before yesterday, Petrovy was unfortunately -assassinated, and the agitation in the Duomo subsided. (_Hickey only -nodded. His eyes glowed with the light of a poet. The little squib -sighed dejectedly._) This morning I read that France is greatly incensed -over a diplomatic breach in the German war office; and it is commented -that the breach is one which can not possibly be healed. Kindly take -note of the following facts. From the first to the eighth of this month, -Baron von Slachten, who is directly responsible for Germany’s foreign -relations, was seen in this city at the Fencing Club, under the -incognito of Henry Brokaw. Chevalier Duchambeau, director of the -combined banking interests of France, was here in that same week, and -was seen at the Montparnasse Cercle. He bore the name of Andree Tirez. -The Grand Duke Jan, of Russia, was here as Ivan Strolesky. James -Wellington Hodge, the master of the banking system of practically all -the world, outside the United States, was here as E. E. Chalmers. Prince -Nito of Japan, Yu-Hip-Lun of China and Count Cassioni of Rome, were here -at the same time; and they all called on Edward E. Allison. (_Furious -writing on the part of all the young gentlemen except the little squib -and Hickey; the former in an acute paralysis of body and mind and soul, -and Hickey in an acute ecstasy. He had symbols down for all the foreign -gentlemen named, a pretzel for the Baron, and had the local records of -Ivan Strolesky and Baron von Slachten up a tree. He had seen them both, -and interviewed the former._) Furthermore, gentlemen, I will give you -now the names of the eight financiers, who, with Edward E. Allison, are -interested in the formation of the International Transportation Company, -which proposes to control the commerce of the world. These gentlemen are -Joseph G. Clark (_the little squib jumped up and sat down. Hickey -produced a long, low whistle of unbounded joy. The hollow-faced one -jerked the useless cigarette from his mouth and threw it in the -fireplace. The red-headed reporter laughed hysterically, though he never -stopped writing. Every young gentleman there made one or another sharp -physical movement expressive of his astonishment and delight_), Eldridge -Babbitt (_more sensation_), W. T. Chisholm (_Hickey wrote the rest of -the list_), Richard Haverman, Arthur Grandin, Robert E. Taylor, A. L. -Vance. I would suggest that, if you disturb these gentlemen in the -manner which I have understood you to be quite capable of doing, you -might secure from some one of them a trace of corroboration of the -things I have said. This is all.” He paused, and bowed stiffly. -“Gentlemen, I wish to add one word. I thank you for your kind attention, -and I desire to say that, while I have violated to-night several of the -rules which I had believed that I would always hold unbroken, I have -done so in the interest of a justice which is greater than all other -considerations. Gentlemen, good-night.” - -“Have you a good photograph handy?” asked the squib, awakening from his -trance. - -Nine young gentlemen put the squib right about that photograph. Hickey -was lost in the fields of Elysian phantasy, and the red-headed reporter -was still writing and stuffing loose pages in his pocket, and the one -with the beard was making a surreptitious sketch of Gerald Fosland, to -use on the first plausible occasion. He had in mind a special article on -wealthy clubmen at home. - -“Company incorporated?” inquired Hickey, who was the most practical poet -of his time. - -“I should consider that a pertinent question,” granted Gerald. -“Gentlemen, you will pardon me for a moment,” and he bowed himself from -the room. - -He had meant to ask that one simple question and return, but, in -Arlene’s blue room, where sat two young women in a high state of quiver, -he had to make his speech all over again, verbatim, and detail each -interruption, and describe how they received the news, and answer, -several times, the variously couched question, if he really thought -their names would not be mentioned. It was fifteen minutes before he -returned, and he found the twelve young gentlemen suffering with an -intolerable itch to be gone! Five of the young men were in the library, -quarrelling, in decently low voices, over the use of phone. The -imperturbable Hickey, however, had it, and he held on, handing in a -story, embellished and coloured and frilled and be-ribboned as he went, -which would make the cylinders on the presses curl up. - -“I am sorry to advise you, gentlemen, that I am unable to tell you if -the International Transportation Company is, or is about to be, -incorporated,” reported Gerald gravely, and he signalled to William to -open the front door. - -The air being too cold, however, he had it closed presently, for now he -was the centre of an interrogatory circle from every degree of which -came questions so sharply pointed that they seemed to flash as they -darted towards him. Gerald Fosland listened to this babble of -conversation with a courtesy beautiful to behold, but at the first good -pause, he advised them that he had given them all the information at his -command, and once more caused the door to be opened; whereupon the eager -young gentlemen, with the exception of the squib, who was on his knees -under a couch looking for a lost subway ticket, shook hands cordially -and admiringly with the host of the evening, and bulged out into the -night. - -As the rapt and enchanted Hickey passed out of the door, a grip like a -pair of ice tongs caught him by the arm, and drew him gently but firmly -back. - -“Sorry,” observed Gerald; “but you don’t go.” - -“Hasn’t that damn boy got here yet?” demanded Hickey, in an immediate -mood for assassination. He was a large young man, and defective -messenger boys were the bane of his existence. - -“William says not,” replied Gerald. - -“For the love of Mike, let me go!” pleaded Hickey. “This stuff has to be -handled while it’s still sizzling! It’s the biggest story of the -century! That boy’ll be here any minute.” - -“Sorry,” regretfully observed Gerald; “but I shall be compelled to -detain you until he arrives.” - -“Can’t do it!” returned the desperate Hickey. “I have to go!” and he -made a dash for the door. - -Once more the ice tongs clutched him by the shoulder and sank into the -flesh. - -“If you try that again, young man, I shall be compelled to thrash you,” -stated the host, again mildly. - -Hickey looked at him, very thoroughly. Gerald was a slim waisted -gentleman, but he had broad shoulders and a depressingly calm eye, and -he probably exercised twenty minutes every morning by an open window, -after his cold plunge, and took a horseback ride, and walked a lot, and -played polo, and a few other effete things like that. Hickey sat down -and waited, and, though the night was cold, he mopped his brow until the -messenger came! - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII - CHICKEN, OR STEAK? - - -On the outbreak of a bygone rudeness between the United States and -Spain, one free and entirely uncurbed metropolitan paper, unable to -adequately express its violent emotions on the subject, utilised its -whole front page with the one word “War!” printed in red ink, and since -this edition was jumped off the press as fast as that word could be -matrixed and cast, there was not another line anywhere in the paper -about the subject which was so prominently indexed, and the read-overs -about the latest briberies and murders and scandals had no beginnings at -all. But that was good journalism. The public had been expecting war for -some days. They knew what it was all about, and here it was. They bought -up that edition with avidity, and read the one word of news, which they -had seen from afar, and threw down the paper, satisfied. - -Now, however, the free and entirely uncurbed, having risen most -gloriously in the past to every emergency, no matter how great, -positively floundered in the very wealth of its opportunities. To begin -with, the free and entirely uncurbed, usually a unit in what constituted -the news of the day, found itself ignominiously scattered, foozled in -its judgment, inadequate in its expression of anything; and one -brilliant head writer, after trying in vain to combine the diverse -elements of this uncomfortably huge sensation, landed on the single word -“Yow!” and went out, in a daze, for a drink. One paper landed on the -Franco-German War as the leading thrill in this overly rich combination -of news, one took up the greed of Allison, one featured the world -monopoly, one the assured downfall of England, and one, that represented -by the squib, the general absorption of everything by the cereal trust. - -Saturday night, however, saw no late extras. The “story” was too big to -touch without something more tangible than the word of even so -substantial a man as Gerald Fosland; and long before any of the twelve -eager young gentlemen had reached the office, the scout brigade, -hundreds strong, were sniffing over every trail and yelping over every -scent. - -They traced the visiting diplomats from the time they had stepped down -their respective gangplanks to the time they walked up them again. They -besieged and bombarded and beleaguered the eight members of the -International Transportation Company, or as many of them as they could -locate, and they even found their way out to Gerald Fosland’s yacht, in -mad pursuit of Eldridge Babbitt. Here, however, they were foiled, for -Gerald, ordering the anchor hoist at the first hail, stepped out on the -deck from his belated dinner, and informed the gentlemen of the press -that the rights of hospitality on his yacht would be held inviolate, -whereupon he headed for Sandy Hook. The scout brigade were also unable -to locate Joseph G. Clark, the only multi-millionaire in America able to -crawl in a hole and pull the hole in after him, Robert E. Taylor, who -never permitted anybody but a personal friend to speak to him from -dinner time on, and Edward E. Allison, of whom there had been no trace -since noon. They might just as well not have found the others, for -neither Chisholm, nor Haverman, nor Grandin, nor Vance, could be induced -to make any admissions, be trapped into a yes or no, or grunt in the -wrong place. They had grown up with the art of interviewing, and had -kept one lap ahead of it, in obedience to nature’s first law, which, as -every school boy knows, though older people may have forgotten it, is -the law of self-preservation. - -Until three o’clock in the morning every newspaper office in New York -was a scene of violent gloom. Throughout all the city, and into many -outside nooks and crannies, were hundreds of human tentacles, burrowing -like moles into the sandy soil of news, but unearthing nothing of any -value. The world’s biggest sensation was in those offices, and they -couldn’t touch it with a pair of tongs! Nor were libel suits, or any -such trivial considerations, in the minds of the astute managers of the -free and entirely uncurbed. The deterrent was that the interests -involved were so large that one might as well sit on a keg of gunpowder -and light it, as to make the slightest of errors. The gentlemen -mentioned as the organisers of the International Transportation Company -collectively owned about all the money, and all the power, and all the -law, in the gloriously independent United States of America; and if they -got together on any one subject, such as the squashing of a newspaper, -for instance, something calm and impressive was likely to happen. On the -other hand, if the interesting story the free and entirely uncurbed had -in its possession were true, the squashing would be reversed, and the -freeness and entirely uncurbedness would be still more firmly seated -than ever, which is the palladium of our national liberties; and Heaven -be good to us. - -It was a distressing evening. Whole reams of copy, more throbbing than -any fiction, more potent than any explosion, more consequential than any -war, hung on the “hold” hooks, and grew cold! Whole banks of galleys of -the same gorgeous stuff stood on the racks, set and revised, and ready -to be plated, and not a line of it could be released! - -Towards morning there was an army of newspaper men so worried and -distressed, and generally consumed with the mad passion of restraint, -that there was scarcely a fingernail left in the profession, and -frightened-eyed copy boys hid behind doors. Suddenly a dozen telegraph -operators, in as many offices, jumped from their desks, as if they had -all been touched at the same instant by a powerful current from their -instruments, and shouted varying phrases, a composite of which would be -nearest expressed by: - -“Let ’er go!” - -It had been eight o’clock in the evening in New York when Gerald Fosland -had first given out his information, and at that moment it was one A.M. -in Berlin. At three A.M., Berlin time, which was ten P.M. in New York, -the Baron von Slachten, who had been detained by an unusual stress of -diplomatic business, strolled to his favourite café. At three-five, the -Baron von Slachten became the most thought about man in his city, but -the metropolitan press of Berlin is slightly fettered and more or less -curbed, and there are certain formalities to be observed. It is -probable, therefore, that the Baron might have gone about his peaceful -way for two or three days, had not a fool American, in the advertising -branch of one of the New York papers, in an entire ignorance of decent -formalities, walked straight out Unter den Linden, to Baron von -Slachten’s favourite café, and, picking out the Baron at a table with -four bushy-faced friends, made this cheerful remark, in the manner and -custom of journalists in his native land: - -“Well, Baron, the International Transportation Company has confessed. -Could you give me a few words on the subject?” - -The Baron, who had been about to drink a stein of beer, set down his -half liter and stared at the young man blankly. His face turned slowly -yellow, and he rose. - -“Lass bleiben,” the Baron ordered the handy persons who were about to -remove the cheerful advertising representative and incarcerate him for -life, and then the Baron walked stolidly out of the café, and rode home, -and wrote for an hour or so, and ate a heavy early breakfast, and -returned to his study, and obligingly shot himself. - -This was at seven A.M., Berlin time, which was two A.M., in New York; -and owing to the nervousness of an old woman servant, the news reached -New York at three A.M., and the big wheels began to go around. - -Where was Edward E. Allison? There was nothing the free and entirely -uncurbed wanted to know so much as that; but the f. and e. u. was doomed -to disappointment in that one desire of its heart. Even as he had -stumbled down the steps of the Sargent house, Allison was aware of the -hideous thing he had done; aware, too, that Jim Sargent was as violent -as good-natured men are apt to be. This thought, it must be said in -justice to Allison, came last and went away first. It was from himself -that he tried to run away, when he shot his runabout up through the Park -and into the north country, and, by devious roads, to a place which had -come to him as if by inspiration; the Willow Club, which was only open -in the summertime, and employed a feeble old caretaker in the winter. To -this haven, bleak and cold as his own numbed soul, Allison drove in -mechanical firmness, and ran his machine back into the garage, and -closed the doors on it, and walked around to the kitchen, where he found -old Peabody smoking a corncob pipe, and laboriously mending a pair of -breeches. - -“Why, howdy, Mr. Allison,” greeted Peabody, rising, and shoving up his -spectacles. “It’s a treat to see anybody these days. I ain’t had a -visitor for nigh onto a month. There ain’t any provisions in the house, -but if you’d like anything I can run over to the village and get it. I -got a jug of my own, if you’d like a little snifter. How’s things in the -city?” and still rambling on with unanswered questions and miscellaneous -offers and club grounds information, he pottered to the corner cupboard, -and produced his jug, and poured out a glass of whiskey. - -“Thanks,” said Allison, and drank the liquor mechanically. He was -shuddering with the cold, but he had not noticed it until now. He -glanced around the room slowly and curiously, as if he had not seen it -before. “I think I’ll stay out here over night,” he told Peabody. “I’ll -occupy the office. If any one rings the phone, don’t answer.” - -“Yes-sir,” replied Peabody. “Tell you what I’ll do, Mr. Allison. I’ll -muffle the bell. I guess I better light a fire in the office.” - -“Eh? Yes. Oh yes. Yes, you might light a fire.” - -“Get you a nice chicken maybe.” - -“Eh? Yes. Oh yes. Yes.” - -“Chicken or steak? Or maybe some chops.” - -“Anything you like,” and Allison went towards the office. At the door he -turned. “You’ll understand, Peabody, that I have come here to be quiet. -I wish to be entirely alone, with certain important matters which I must -decide. If anybody should happen to drop in, get rid of him. Do not say -that I am here or have been here.” - -“Yes-sir,” replied Peabody. “I know how it is that away. I want to be by -myself, often. Shall I make up the bed in the east room or the west -room? Seems to me the west room is a little pleasanter.” - -Allison went into the office, and closed the door after him. It was damp -and chill in there, but he did not notice it. He sat down in the swivel -chair behind the flat top desk, and rested his chin in his hands, and -stared out of the window at the bleak and dreary landscape. Just within -his range of vision was a lonely little creek, shadowed by a mournful -drooping willow which had given the Club its name, and in the wintry -breeze it waved its long tendrils against the leaden grey sky. Allison -fixed his eyes on that oddly beckoning tree, and strove to think. Old -Peabody came pottering in, and with many a clang and clatter builded a -fire in the capacious Dutch stove; with a longing glance at Allison, for -he was starved with the hunger of talk, he went out again. - -At dusk he once more opened the door. Allison had not moved. He still -sat with his chin in his hands, looking out at that weirdly waving -willow. Old Peabody thought that he must be asleep, until he tiptoed up -at the side. Allison’s grey eyes, unblinking, were staring straight -ahead, with no expression in them. It was as if they had turned to -glass. - -“Excuse me, Mr. Allison. Chicken or steak? I got ’em both, one for -supper and one for breakfast.” - -Allison turned slowly, part way towards Peabody; not entirely. - -“Chicken or steak?” repeated Peabody. - -“Eh? Yes. Oh yes. Yes. The chicken.” - -The fire had gone out. Peabody rebuilt it. He came in an hour later, and -studied the silent man at the desk for a long minute, and then he -decided an important question for himself. He brought in Allison’s -dinner on a tray, and set it on a corner of the desk. - -“Shall I spread a cloth?” - -“No,” returned Allison. The clatter had aroused him for the moment, and -Peabody went away with a very just complaint that if he had to be -bothered with a visitor on a grey day like this, he’d rather not have -such an unsociable cuss. - -At eleven Peabody came in again, to see if Allison were not ready to go -to bed; but Allison sent him away as soon as he had fixed the fire. The -tray was untouched, and out there in the dim moonlight, which peered now -and then through the shifting clouds, the long-armed willow beckoned and -beckoned. - -Morning came, cold and grey and damp as the night had been. Allison had -fallen asleep towards the dawn, sitting at his desk with his heavy head -on his arms, and not even the clatter of the building of the fire roused -him. At seven when Peabody came, Allison raised up with a start at the -opening of the door, but before he glanced at Peabody, he looked out of -the window at the willow. - -“Good morning,” said Peabody with a cheerfulness which sounded oddly in -that dim, bare room. “I brought you the paper, and some fresh eggs. -There was a little touch of frost this morning, but it went away about -time for sun-up. How will you have your eggs? Fried, I suppose, after -the steak. Seems like you don’t have much appetite,” and he scrutinised -the untouched tray with mingled regret and resentment. Since Allison -paid no attention to him, he decided on eggs fried after the steak, and -started for the door. - -Allison had picked up the paper mechanically. It had lain with the top -part downwards, but his own picture was in the centre. He turned the -paper over, so that he could see the headlines. - -“Peabody!” No longer the dead tones of a man in a mental stupor, a man -who can not think, but in the sharp tones of a man who can feel. - -“Yes-sir.” Sharp and crisp, like the snap of a whip. Allison had scared -it out of him. - -“Don’t come in again until I call you.” - -“Yes-sir.” Grieved this time. Darn it, wasn’t he doing his best for the -man! - -So it had come; the time when his will was not God! A God should be -omnipotent, impregnable, unassailable, absolute. He was surprised at the -calmness with which he took this blow. It was the very bigness of the -hurt which left it so little painful. A man with his leg shot off -suffers not one-tenth so much as a man who tears his fingernail to the -quick. Moreover, there was that other big horror which had left him -stupefied and numb. He had not known that in his ruthlessness there was -any place for remorse, or for terror of himself at anything he might -choose to do. But there was. He entered into no ravings now, no -writhings, no outcries. He realised calmly and clearly all he had done, -and all which had happened to him in retribution. He saw the downfall of -his stupendous scheme of worldwide conquest. He saw his fortune, to the -last penny, swept away, for he had invested all that he could raise on -his securities and his business and his prospects, in the preliminary -expenses of the International Transportation Company, bearing this -portion of the financial burden himself, as part of the plan by which he -meant to obtain ultimate control and command of the tremendous -consolidation, and become the king among kings, with the whole world in -his imperious grasp, a sway larger than that of any potentate who had -ever sat upon a throne, larger than the sway of all the monarchs of -earth put together, as large terrestrially as the sway of God himself! -All these he saw crumbled away, fallen down around him, a wreck so -complete that no shred or splinter of it was worth the picking up; saw -himself disgraced and discredited, hated and ridiculed throughout the -length and breadth and circumference of the very earth he had meant to -rule; saw himself discarded by the strong men whom he had inveigled into -this futile scheme and saw himself forced into commercial death as -wolves rend and devour a crippled member of their pack; last, he saw -himself loathed in the one pure breast he had sought to make his own; -and that was the deepest hurt of all; for now, in the bright blaze of -his own conflagration, he saw that, beneath his grossness, he had loved -her, after all, loved her with a love which, if he had shorn it of his -dross, might perhaps have won her. - -Through all that day he sat at the desk, and when the night-time came -again, he walked out of the house, and across the field, and over the -tiny foot-bridge, under the willow tree with the still beckoning arms; -and the world, his world, the world he had meant to make his own, never -saw him again. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV - A MATTER OF CONSCIENCE - - -Gail stood at the rail of the _Whitecap_, gazing out over the dancing -blue waves with troubled eyes. - -“Penny,” said a cheerful voice at her side. - -“For my thoughts,” she replied, turning to the impossibly handsome Dick -Rodley who had strolled up, in his blue jacket and white trousers and -other nautical embellishments. “Give me your penny.” - -He reached in his pockets, but of course, there was no money there. He -did, however, find a fountain pen and a card, and he wrote her a note -for the amount. - -“Now deliver the merchandise,” he demanded. - -“Well, to begin with, I’m glad that the fog has been driven away, and -that the sun is shining, and that so many of my friends are on board the -_Whitecap_.” - -“You’re not a conscientious merchant,” objected Dick. “You’re not giving -me all I paid for. No one stands still so long, no matter how charming -of figure or becomingly gowned, without a serious thought. I want that -thought.” - -Gail looked up into his big black eyes reflectively. She was -tremendously glad that she had such a friend as Dick. He was so -agreeable to look at, and he was no problem to her. The most of her -friends were. - -“The news in the paper,” she told him. “It’s so big.” - -Dick looked down at her critically. Her snow-white yachting costume, -with its touches of delicate blue, seemed to make her a part of the blue -sea and the blue sky, with their markings of white in foam and cloud, to -enhance the delicate pallor of her cheeks, to throw into her brown eyes -a trace of violet, to bring into relief, the rich colour of the brown -hair which rippled about her face, straying where it could into wanton -little ringlets, sometimes gold and sometimes almost red in the sun. She -was so new a Gail to Dick that he was puzzled, and worried, too, for he -felt, rather than saw, that some trouble possessed this dearest of his -friends. - -“Yes, it is big news,” he admitted; “big enough and startling enough to -impress any one very gravely.” Then he shook his head at her. “But you -mustn’t worry about it, Gail. You’re not responsible.” - -Gail turned her eyes from him and looked out over the white-edged waves -again. - -“It is a tremendous responsibility,” she mused, whereupon Dick, as -became him, violently broke that thread of thought by taking her arm and -drawing her away from the rail, and walking gaily with her up to the -forward shelter deck, where, shielded from the crispness of the wind, -there sat, around the big table and amid a tangle of Sunday papers, Jim -Sargent and the Reverend Smith Boyd, Arly and Gerald Fosland, all four -deep in the discussion of the one possible topic of conversation. - -“Allison’s explosion again,” objected Dick, as Gail and he joined the -group, and caught the general tenor of the thought. “I suppose the only -way to escape that is to jump off the _Whitecap_. Gail’s worse than any -of you. I find she’s responsible for the whole thing.” - -Arly and Gerald looked up quickly. - -“I neither said nor intimated anything of the sort,” Gail reprimanded -Dick, for the benefit of the Foslands, and she sat down by Arly, -whereupon Dick, observing that he was much offended, patted Gail on the -shoulder, and disappeared in search of Ted. - -“I’d like to hand a vote of thanks to the responsible party,” laughed -Jim Sargent, to whom the news meant more than Gail appreciated. “With -Allison broke, Urbank of the Midcontinent succeeds to control of the -A.-P., and Urbank is anxious to incorporate the Towando Valley in the -system. He told me so yesterday.” - -The light which leaped into Gail’s eyes, and the trace of colour which -flashed into her cheeks, were most comforting to Arly; and they -exchanged a smile of great satisfaction. They clutched hands -ecstatically under the corner of the table, and wanted to laugh -outright. However, it would keep. - -“The destruction of Mr. Allison was a feat of which any gentleman’s -conscience might approve,” commented Gerald Fosland, who had spent some -time in definitely settling, with himself, the ethics of that question. -“The company he proposed to form was a menace to the liberty of the -world and the progress of civilisation.” - -“The destruction didn’t go far enough,” snapped Jim Sargent. “Clark, -Vance, Haverman, Grandin, Babbitt, Taylor, Chisholm; these fellows won’t -be touched, and they built up their monopolies by the same method -Allison proposed; trickery, force, and plain theft!” - -“Harsh language, Uncle Jim Sargent, to use toward your respectable -fellow-vestrymen,” chided Arly, her black eyes dancing. - -“Clark and Chisholm?” and Jim Sargent’s brows knotted. “They’re not my -fellow-vestrymen. Either they go or I do!” - -“I would like you to remain,” quietly stated the Reverend Smith Boyd. “I -hope to achieve several important alterations in the ethics of Market -Square Church.” He was grave this morning. He had unknowingly been -ripening for some time on many questions; and the revelations in this -morning’s papers had brought him to the point of decision. “I wish to -drive the money changers out of the temple,” he added, and glanced at -Gail with a smile in which there was acknowledgment. - -“A remarkably lucrative enterprise, eh Gail?” laughed her Uncle Jim, -remembering her criticism on the occasion of her first and only vestry -meeting, when she had called their attention to the satire of the -stained glass window. - -“You will have still the Scribes and Pharisees, Doctor; ‘those who stand -praying in the public places, so they may be seen of all men,’” and Gail -smiled across at him, within her eyes the mischievous twinkle which had -been absent for many days. - -“I hope to be able to remove the public place,” replied the rector, with -a gravity which told of something vital beneath the apparent repartee. -Mrs. Boyd, strolling past with Aunt Grace Sargent, paused to look at him -fondly. “I shall set myself, with such strength as I may have, against -the building of the proposed cathedral.” - -He had said it so quietly that it took the little group a full minute to -comprehend. Jim Sargent looked with acute interest at the end of his -cigar, and threw it overboard. Arly leaned slowly forward, and, resting -her piquant chin on her closed hand, studied the rector earnestly. -Gerald stroked his moustache contemplatively, and looked at the rector -with growing admiration. By George, that was a sportsmanlike attitude! -He’d have to take the Reverend Smith Boyd down to the Papyrus Club one -day. All the trouble flew back into Gail’s eyes. It was a stupendous -thing the Reverend Smith Boyd was proposing to relinquish! The -rectorship of the most wonderful cathedral in the world! Mrs. Boyd -looked startled for a moment. She had known of Tod’s bright dreams about -the new cathedral and the new rectory. He had planned his mother’s -apartments himself, and the last thing his eyes looked upon at night -were the beautifully coloured sketches on his walls. - -“Don’t be foolish, Boyd,” protested Sargent, who had always felt a -fatherly responsibility for the young rector. “It’s a big ambition and a -worthy ambition, to build that cathedral; and because you’re offended -with certain things the papers have said, about Clark and Chisholm in -connection with the church, is no reason you should cut off your nose to -spite your face.” - -“It is not the publication of these things which has determined me,” -returned the rector thoughtfully. “It has merely hastened my decision. -To begin with, I acknowledge now that it was only a vague, artistic -dream of mine that such a cathedral, by its very magnificence, would -promote worship. That might have been the case when cathedrals were the -only magnificent buildings erected, and when every rich and glittering -thing was devoted to religion. A golden candlestick then became -connected entirely with the service of the Almighty. Now, however, -magnificence has no such signification. The splendour of a cathedral -must enter into competition with the splendour of a state house, a -museum, or a hotel.” - -“You shouldn’t switch that way, Boyd,” remonstrated Sargent, showing his -keen disappointment. “When you began to agitate for the cathedral you -brought a lot of our members in who hadn’t attended services in years. -You stirred them up. You got them interested. They’ll drop right off.” - -“I hope not,” returned the rector earnestly. “I hope to reach them with -a higher ambition, a higher pride, a higher vanity, if you like to put -it that way. I wish them to take joy in establishing the most -magnificent living conditions for the poor which have ever been built! -We have no right to the money which is to be paid us for the Vedder -Court property. We have no right to spend it in pomp. It belongs to the -poor from whom we have taken it, and to the city which has made us rich -by enhancing the value of our ground. I propose to build permanent and -sanitary tenements, to house as many poor people as possible, and -conduct them without a penny of profit above the cost of repairs and -maintenance.” - -Gail bent upon him beaming eyes, and the delicate flush, which had begun -to return to her cheeks, deepened. Was this the sort of tenements he had -proposed to re-erect in Vedder Court? Perhaps she had been hasty! The -Reverend Smith Boyd in turning slowly from one to the other of the -little group, by way of establishing mental communication with them, -rested, for a moment, in the beaming eyes of Gail, and smiled at her in -affectionate recognition then swept his glance on to his mother, where -it lingered. - -“You are perfectly correct,” stated Gerald Fosland, who, though sitting -stiffly upright, had managed nevertheless to dispose one elbow where it -touched gently the surface of Arly. “Market Square Church is a much more -dignified old place of worship than the ostentatious cathedral would -ever be, and your project for spending the money has such strict justice -at the bottom of it that it must prevail. But, I say, Doctor Boyd,” and -he gave his moustache a contemplative tug; “don’t you think you should -include a small margin of profit for the future extension of your idea?” - -“That’s glorious, Gerald!” approved Gail; and Arly, laughing, patted his -hand. - -“You’re probably right,” considered the rector, studying Fosland with a -new interest. “I think we’ll have to put you on the vestry.” - -“I’d be delighted, I’m sure,” responded Gerald, in the courteous tone of -one accepting an invitation to dinner. - -“Do you hear what your son’s planning to do?” called Jim Sargent to Mrs. -Boyd. He was not quite reconciled. “He proposes to take that wonderful -new rectory away from you.” - -The beautiful Mrs. Boyd merely dimpled. - -“I am a trifle astonished,” she confessed. “My son has been so extremely -eager about it; but if he is relinquishing the dream, it is because he -wants something else very much more worth while. I entirely approve of -his plan for the new tenements,” and she did not understand why they all -laughed at her. She did feel, however, that there was affection in the -laughter; and she was quite content. Laughing with them, she walked on -with Grace Sargent. They had set out to make twenty trips around the -deck, for exercise. - -“I find that I have been at work on the plans for these new tenements -ever since the condemnation,” went on the rector. “I would build them in -the semi-court style, with light and air in every room; with as little -woodwork as possible; with plumbing appliances of simple and perfect -sanitation; with centralised baths under the care of an attendant; with -assembly rooms for both social and religious observances and with self -contained bureaus of employment, health and police protection—one -building to each of six blocks, widening the street for a grass plot, -trees, and fountains. The fact that the Market Square Church property is -exempt from taxation, saving us over half a million dollars a year, -renders us able to provide these advantages at a much lower rental to my -Vedder Court people than they can secure quarters anywhere else in the -city, and at the same time lay up a small margin of profit for the -system.” - -Gerald Fosland drew forward his chair. - -“Do you know,” he observed, “I should like very much to become a member -of your vestry.” - -“I’m glad you are interested,” returned the rector, and producing a -pencil he drew a white advertising space towards him. “This is the plan -of tenement I have in mind,” and for the next half hour the five of them -discussed tenement plans with great enthusiasm. - -At the expiration of that time, Ted and Lucile and Dick and Marion came -romping up, with the deliberate intention of creating a disturbance; and -Gail and the Reverend Smith Boyd, being thrown accidentally to the edge -of that whirlpool, walked away for a rest. - -“They tell me you’re going abroad,” observed the rector, looking down at -her sadly, as they paused at her favourite rail space. - -“Yes,” she answered quietly. “Father and mother are coming next week,” -and she glanced up at the rector from under her curving lashes. - -There was a short space of silence. It was almost as if these two were -weary. - -“We shall miss you very much,” he told her, in all sincerity. They were -both looking out over the blue waves; he, tall, broad-shouldered, agile -of limb; she, straight, lithe, graceful. Mrs. Boyd and Mrs. Sargent -passed them admiringly, but went on by with a trace of sadness. - -“I’m sorry to leave,” Gail replied. “I shall be very anxious to know how -you are coming on with your new plan. I’m proud of you for it.” - -“Thank you,” he returned. - -They were talking mechanically. In them was an inexpressible sadness. -They had come so near, and yet they were so far apart. Moreover, they -knew that there was no chance of change. It was a matter of conscience -which came between them, and it was a divergence which would widen with -the years. And yet they loved. They mutually knew it, and it was because -of that love that they must stay apart. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV - A VESTRY MEETING - - -There was a strained atmosphere in the vestry meeting from the first. -Every member present felt the tension from the moment old Joseph G. -Clark walked in with Chisholm. They did not even nod to the Reverend -Smith Boyd, but took their seats solidly in their customary places at -the table, Clark, shielding his eyes, as was his wont, against the light -which streamed on him from the red robe of the Good Shepherd. The -repression was apparent, too, in the Reverend Smith Boyd, who rose to -address his vestrymen as soon as the late-comers arrived. - -“Gentlemen,” said he, “I wish to speak to you as the treasury committee, -rather than as vestrymen, for it is in the former capacity which you -always attend. I am advised that we have been paid for Vedder Court.” - -Chisholm, to whom he directed a gaze of inquiry, nodded his head. - -“It’s in the Majestic,” he stated. “I have plans for its investment, -which I wish to lay before the committee.” - -“I shall lay my own before them at the same time,” went on the rector. -“I wish, however, to preface these plans by the statement that I have, -so far as I am concerned, relinquished all thought of building the new -cathedral.” - -Nicholas Van Ploon, who had been much troubled of late, brightened, and -nodded his round head emphatically. - -“That’s what I say,” he declared. - -“The decision does not lay in your hands, Doctor Boyd,” drawled a nasal -voice with an unconcealed sneer in it. It was clean-shaven old Joseph G. -Clark, who was not disturbed, in so much as the parting of one hair, by -all the adverse criticism of him which had filled column upon column of -the daily press for the past few days. “The rector has never, in the -history of Market Square Church, been given the control of its finances. -He has invariably been hired to preach the gospel.” - -Sargent, Cunningham, Manning, and even Van Ploon, looked at Clark in -surprise. He was not given to open reproof. Chisholm manifested no -astonishment. He sat quietly in his chair, his fingers idly drumming on -the edge of the table, but his mutton-chop beard was pink from the -reddening of the skin beneath. - -“The present rector of Market Square Church means to have a voice in its -deliberations so long as he is the rector!” announced that young man -emphatically, and Jim Sargent looked up at him with a jerk of his head. -The Reverend Smith Boyd was pale this afternoon, but there was a -something shining through his pallor which made the face alive; and the -something was not temper. Rufus Manning, clasping his silvery beard with -a firm grip, smiled encouragingly at the tall young orator. “I have said -that I have, so far as I am concerned, relinquished the building of the -cathedral,” the rector went on. “For this there are two reasons. The -first is that its building will bring us further away from the very -purpose for which the church was founded; the worship of God with an -humble and a contrite heart! I am ready to confess that I found, on -rigid self-analysis, my leading motive in urging the building of the new -cathedral to have been vanity. I am also ready to confess, on behalf of -my congregation and vestry, that their leading motive was vanity!” - -“You have no authority to speak for me,” interrupted Chisholm, his -mutton chops now red. - -“Splendour is no longer the exclusive property of religion,” resumed the -rector, paying no attention to the interruption. “It has lost the -greater part of its effectiveness because splendour has become a mere -adjunct to the daily luxury of our civilisation. The new cathedral would -be only a surrounding in keeping with the gilded boudoirs from which my -lady parishioners step to come to worship; and the ceremony of worship -has become the Sunday substitute, in point of social recognition, for -the week day tea. If I thought, however, that the building of that -cathedral would promote the spread of the gospel in a degree -commensurate with the outlay, I would still be opposed to the erection -of the building; for the money does not belong to us!” - -“Go right on and develop our conscience,” approved Manning, smiling up -at the old walnut-beamed ceiling with its carved cherub brackets. - -“The money belongs to Vedder Court,” declared the rector; “to the -distorted moral cripples which Market Square Church, through the -accident of commerce, has taken under her wing. Gentlemen, in the recent -revelations concerning the vast industrial interests of the world, I -have seen the whole blackness of modern corporate methods; and Market -Square Church is a corporation! Corporations were originally formed for -the purpose of expediting commerce, and it is the mere logic of -opportunity that their progress to rapacity, coercion, and merciless -strangulation of all competition, has been so swift. They have at no -time been swayed by any moral consideration. This fact is so notorious -that it has given rise to the true phrase ‘corporations have no souls.’ -I wish to ask you, in how far the Market Square Church has been swayed, -in its commercial dealings, by moral considerations?” - -He paused, and glanced from man to man of his vestry. Sargent and -Manning, the former of whom knew his plans and the latter of whom had -been waiting for them to mature, smiled at him in perfect accord. -Nicholas Van Ploon sat quite placidly, with his hands folded over his -creaseless vest. Willis Cunningham, stroking his sparse brown Vandyke, -looked uncomfortable, as if he had suddenly been introduced into a rude -brawl; but his eye roved occasionally to Nicholas Van Ploon, who was two -generations ahead of him in the acquisition of wealth, by the brilliant -process of allowing property to increase in valuation. Chisholm glared. - -“You’ll not find any money which is not tainted,” snapped Joseph G. -Clark, who regarded money in a strictly impersonal light. “The very -dollar you have in your pocket may have come direct from a brothel.” - -“Or from Vedder Court,” retorted the rector. “We have brothels there, -though we do not ‘officially’ know it. We have saloons there; we have -gambling rooms there; and, from all these iniquities, Market Square -Church reaps a profit! For the glory of God? I dare you, Joseph G. -Clark, or W. T. Chisholm, to answer me that question in the affirmative! -In Vedder Court there are tenements walled and partitioned with -contagion, poison, with miasmatic air, reeking with disease; and from -the poor who flock into this fetid shelter, because we offer them cheap -rents, Market Square Church takes a profit as great as any distillery -combine! For the glory of God? Out of very shame we can not answer that -question! We have bought and sold with the greed of any conscienceless -individual, and our commodity has been filth and degradation, human -lives and stunted souls! No decent man would conduct the business we do, -for the reason that it would soil his soul as a gentleman; and it is a -shameful thing that a gentleman should have finer ethics than a -Christian church! In the beginning, I was a coward about this matter! It -was because I wished to be rid of our responsibility in Vedder Court -that I first urged the conversion of that property into a cathedral. We -can not rid ourselves of the responsibility of Vedder Court! If it were -possible for a church to be sent to hell, Market Square Church would be -eternally damned if it took this added guilt upon it!” - -“This talk is absurd,” declared Chisholm. “The city has taken Vedder -Court away from us.” - -“Only the property,” quickly corrected Rufus Manning, turning to -Chisholm with sharpness in his deep blue eyes. “If you will remember, I -told you this same thing before Doctor Boyd came to us. I have waited -ever since his arrival for him to develop to this point, and I wish to -announce myself as solidly supporting his views.” - -“Your own will not bear inspection!” charged Clark, turning to Manning -with a scowl. - -“I’ll range up at the judgment seat with you!” flamed Manning. “We’re -both old enough to think about that!” - -Joseph G. Clark jumped to his feet, and, leaning across the table, shook -a thin forefinger at Manning. - -“I have been attacked enough on the point of my moral standing!” he -declared, his high pitched nasal voice quavering with an anger he had -held below the explosive point during the most of his life. “I can stand -the attacks of a sensational press, but when spiteful criticism follows -me into my own vestry, almost in the sacred shadow of the altar itself, -I am compelled to protest! I wish to state to this vestry, once and for -all, that my moral status is above reproach, and that my conduct has -been such as to receive the commendation of my Maker! Because it has -pleased Divine Providence to place in my hands the distribution of the -grain of the fields, I am constantly subject to the attacks of envy and -malice! It has gone so far that I, last night, received from the -Reverend Smith Boyd, a request to resign from this vestry!” He paused in -triumph on that, as if he had made against the Reverend Smith Boyd a -charge of such ghastly infamy that the young rector must shrivel before -his eyes. “I have led a blameless life! I have never smoked nor drank! I -have paid every penny I ever owed and fulfilled every promise I ever -made. I have obeyed the gospel, and partaken of the sacraments, and the -Divine Being has rewarded me abundantly! He has chosen me, because of my -faithful stewardship, to gather the foods of earth from its sources, and -feed it to the mouths of the hungry; and I shall not depart from my -stewardship in this church, because I am here, as I am everywhere, by -the will of God!” - -Perhaps W. T. Chisholm was not shocked by this blasphemy, but the dismay -of it sat on every other face, even on that of Nicholas Van Ploon, who -was compelled to dig deep to find his ethics. - -“You infernal old thief!” wondered Manning, recovering from his -amazement. “Was it Divine Providence which directed you to devise the -scheme whereby the railroads paid you two dollars rebate on every car of -wheat you shipped, and a dollar bonus on every car of wheat your -competitors shipped? I could give you a string of sins as long as the -catechism, and you dare not deny one of them, because I can prove them -on you! And yet you have the effrontery to say that a Divine Providence -would establish you in your monopoly, by such scoundrelly means as you -have risen to become the greatest dispenser of self advertising -charities in the world! You propose to ride into Heaven on your -universities and your libraries, and on the fact that you never smoked -nor drank nor swore nor gambled; but when you come face to face with -this horrible new god you have created, a deity who would permit you to -attain wealth by the vile methods you have used, you will find him with -a pitch-fork in his hands! I am glad that Doctor Boyd, though knowing -your vindictive record, has had bravery enough to demand your -resignation from this vestry! I hope he receives it!” - -Joseph G. Clark had remained standing, and his head shook, as with a -palsy, while he listened to the charge of Manning. He was a very old -man, and it had been quite necessary for him to restrain his passions -throughout his life. - -“You will go first!” he shouted at Manning. “I am impregnable; but you -have no business on this vestry! You can be removed at any time an -examination is ordered, for I have heard you, we have all heard you, -deny the immaculate conception, and thereby the Divinity of Christ, in -whom alone there is salvation!” - -A hush like death fell on the vestry. The Reverend Smith Boyd was the -first to break the ghastly silence. - -“Gentlemen,” said he, “I do not think that we are in a mood to-day for -further discussion. I suggest that we adjourn.” - -His voice seemed to distract the attention of Clark from Manning, at -whom he had been glowering. He turned on the Reverend Smith Boyd the -remainder of the wrath which marked his first break into senility. - -“As for you!” he snarled, “you will keep your fingers out of matters -which do not concern you! You were hired to preach the gospel, and you -will confine your attention to that occupation, preaching just what you -find sanctioned in this book; nothing more, nothing less!” and taking a -small volume which lay on the table, he tossed it in front of the -Reverend Smith Boyd. - -It was the Book of Common Prayer, containing, in the last pages, the -Articles of Faith. - -Clark seized his hat and coat, and strode out of the door, followed by -the red-faced Chisholm, who had also been asked to resign. Nicholas Van -Ploon rose, and shook hands with the Reverend Smith Boyd. - -“Sargent has told me about your plan for the new tenements,” he stated. -“I am in favour of buying the property.” - -“We’ll swing it for you, Boyd,” promised Jim Sargent. “I’ve been talking -with some of the other members, and they seem to favour the idea that -the new Vedder Court will be a great monument. There’ll be no such -magnificent charity in the world, and no such impressive sacrifice as -giving up that cathedral! I think Cunningham will be with us, when it -comes to a vote.” - -“Certainly,” interposed Nicholas Van Ploon. “We don’t need to make any -profit from those tenements. The normal increase in ground value will be -enough.” - -“Yes,” said Cunningham slowly. “I am heartily in favour of the -proposition.” - -“Coming along, Doctor,” invited Manning, going for his coat and hat. - -“No, I think not,” decided the Reverend Smith Boyd quietly. - -He was sitting at the end of the table facing the Good Shepherd, at the -edge of whose robe still sparkled crystalline light, and in his two -hands he thoughtfully held the Book of Common Prayer. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI - HAND IN HAND - - -The Reverend Smith Boyd walked slowly out into the dim church, with the -little volume in his hand. The afternoon sun had sunk so low that the -illumination from the stained-glass windows was cut off by the near -buildings, and the patches of ruby and of sapphire, of emerald and of -topaz, glowed now near the tops of the slender columns, or mellowed the -dusky spaces up amid the arches. - -It was hushed and silent there, deserted, and far from the thoughts of -men. The young rector walked slowly up the aisle to a pew in the corner -near the main entrance, and sat down, still with the little Book of -Common Prayer in his hand, and, in the book, the Articles of Religion. -From them alone must he preach; nothing more and nothing less. That was -the duty for which he was hired. His own mind, his own intelligence, the -reason and the spirit and the soul which God had given him were for no -other use than the clever support of the things which were printed here. -And who had formulated these articles? Men; men like himself. They had -made their interpretation in solemn conclave, and had defined the Deity, -and the form in which he must be addressed, as one instructs a servant -in the proper words to use in announcing the arrival of a guest or the -readiness of a dinner. The interpretation made, these men had arrogantly -closed the book, and had said, in effect, this is the way of salvation, -and none other can avail. Unless a man believes what is here set down, -he can in nowise enter the Kingdom of Heaven; and a pure life filled -with good works is for naught. - -The Reverend Smith Boyd had no need to read those Articles of Religion. -He had been over them countless times, and he knew them by heart, from -beginning to end. He had opened wide the credulity of his mind, and had -forced his belief into these channels, so that he might preach the -gospel, not of Christ, but of his church, with a clean conscience. And -he had done so. Whatever doubts there had lurked in him, from that one -period of infidelity in his youth, he had shut off behind a solid wall -over which he would not peer. There were many things behind that wall -which it were better for him not to see, he had told himself, lest, from -among them, some false doctrine may creep up and poison the purity of -his faith. He had thrown himself solidly on faith. Belief implicit and -unfaltering was necessary to the support of the dogmatic theology he -taught, and he gave it that belief; implicit and unfaltering. Reason had -no part in religion or in theology; and for good cause! - -But here had come a condition where reason, like a long suppressed -passion of the body, clamoured insistently to be heard, and would have -its voice, and strode in, and took loud possession. Joseph G. Clark, so -filled with iniquity that he could not see his own sins, so rotted, to -the depths of his soul, that he could twist every violation of moral law -into a virtue, so sunken in the foulness of every possible onslaught -upon mercy and justice and humanity that millions suffered from his -deeds, this man could sit in the vestry of Market Square Church, and -control the destinies of an organisation built ostensibly for the -purpose of saving souls and spreading the gospel of mercy and justice -and humanity, could sit in the seat of the holy, because, with his lips -he could say: “I acknowledge Christ as my Redeemer”! Rufus Manning, -whose life was an open page, whose record was one upon which there was -no blot, who had lived purely, and humanely, and mercifully and -compassionately, who had given freely of his time and of his goods for -the benefit of those who were weak and helpless and needy, who had read -deeply into human hearts, and had comforted them because he was gifted -with a portion of that divine compassion which sent an only begotten Son -to die upon the cross, that through his blood the sins of man might be -washed away, this man could be driven from the vestry of Market Square -Church, itself guilty and stained with sin, because he could not, or -would not say with his lips, “I acknowledge Christ as my Redeemer”! - -Reason made a terrific onslaught against faith at this juncture. -Familiar as he was with the book, the Reverend Smith Boyd turned to the -Articles of Religion. - -“We are accounted righteous before God, only for the merit of our Lord -and Saviour Jesus Christ by Faith, and not for our own works or -deserving.... - -“Works done before the grace of Christ, and the Inspiration of His -Spirit, are not pleasant to God, for as much as they spring not of faith -in Jesus Christ; neither do they make men meet to receive grace, or -deserve grace of congruity: yea, rather, for that they are not done as -God hath willed and commanded them to be done, we doubt not but they -have the nature of sin.” - -There was some discrepancy here between the works and the faith of Clark -and the works and the faith of Manning. The Reverend Smith Boyd made no -doubt that the Great Judge would find little difficulty in -distinguishing between these two men, and in deciding upon their -respective merits; but that was not the point which disturbed the young -rector. It was the attitude of the church towards these men, and the -fact that he must uphold that attitude. It was absurd! The Reverend -Smith Boyd was a devout and earnest and consistent believer, not merely -in the existence of God, but in his greatness and his power and his -glory, his justice and his mercy and his wisdom; but the Reverend Smith -Boyd suddenly made the startling discovery that he was not preaching -God! He was preaching the church and its creed! - -Started, now, he went through the thirty-nine Articles of Religion, one -by one, slowly, thoughtfully, and with a quickened conscience. Reason -knocked at the door of Faith, and entered; but it did not drive out -Faith. They sat side by side, but each gave something to the other. No, -rather, Reason stripped the mask from Faith, tore away the disguising -cloak, and displayed her in all her simple beauty, sweet, and gentle, -and helpful. What was the faith he had been called upon to teach? Faith -in the thirty-nine Articles of Religion! This had been cleverly -substituted by the organisers of an easy profession, for faith in God, -which latter was too simple of comprehension for the purposes of any -organisation. - -For a long time the Reverend Smith Boyd sat in the corner pew, and when -he had closed the book, all that had been behind the wall of his mind -came out, and was sorted into heaps, and the bad discarded and the good -retained. He found a wonderful relief in that. He had lived with a -secret chamber in his heart, hidden even from himself, and now that he -had opened the door, he felt free. Above him, around him, within him, -was the presence of God, infinite, tender, easy of understanding; and -from that God, his God, the one which should walk with him through life -his friend and comforter and counsellor, he stripped every shred of -pretence and worthless form and useless ceremony! - -“I believe in God the Creator; the Maker of my conscience; my Friend and -Father.” The creed of Gail! - -He walked out into the broad centre aisle, now, amid the solemn pews and -the avenue of slender columns, and beneath graceful arches which pointed -heavenward the aspirations of the human soul. Before the altar he paused -and gazed up at the beautiful Henri Dupres crucifix. The soft light from -one of the clerestory windows flooded in on Him, and the compassionate -eyes of the Son of God seemed bent upon the young rector in benign -sympathy. For a moment the rector stood, tall and erect, then he -stretched forth his arms: - -“I know that my Redeemer liveth!” he said, and sank to his knees. - -Two high points he had kept in his faith, points never to be shaken; the -existence of his Creator, his mercy and his love, and the Divinity of -his Son, who died, was crucified and buried, and on the third day arose -to ascend unto Heaven. Reason could not destroy that citadel in a man -born to the necessity of Faith! Man must believe some one thing. If it -was as easy, as he had once set forth, to believe in the biblical -account of the creation of the world as to believe in a pre-existent -chaos, out of which evoluted the spirit of life, and all its marvels of -growing trees and flying birds and reasoning men, it was as easy to go -one step further, and add the Son to the Father and to the Holy Ghost! -Even chaos must have been created! - -Fully satisfied, the Reverend Smith Boyd walked into the vestry, and -wrote his resignation from the rectorship of Market Square Church, for -he could no longer teach, and preach, Faith—in the thirty-nine Articles -of Religion! Within his grasp he had held a position of wealth, of -power, of fame! He scarcely considered their loss; and in the ease with -which he relinquished them, he knew that he was self-absolved from the -charge of using his conscience as a ladder of ambition! If personal -vanity had entered into his desire to build the new cathedral, it had -been incidental, not fundamental. It made him profoundly happy to know -this with positiveness. - -He called up the house of Jim Sargent, and asked for Gail. - -“Come over,” he invited her. “I want to see you very much. I’m in the -church. Come in through the vestry.” - -“All right,” was the cheerful reply. “I’ll be there in a minute.” - -He had been very sly! He was tremendously pleased with himself! He had -kept out of his voice all the longing, and all the exultation, and all -the love! He would not trust even one vibration of his secret to a cold -telephone wire! - -He set the door of the vestry open wide. Within the church, the organist -had conquered that baffling run in the mighty prelude of Bach, and the -great dim spaces up amid the arches were pulsing in ecstasy with the -tremendous harmony. Outside, upon the background of the celestial -strain, there rose a fluttering, a twittering, a cooing. The doves of -spring had returned to the vestry yard. - -Just a moment and Gail appeared, poised in the doorway, with a filmy -pink scarf about her shoulders, a simple frock of delicate grey upon her -slender figure, her brown hair waving about her oval face, a faint flush -upon her cheeks, her brown eyes sparkling, her red lips smiling up at -him. - -He had intended to tell her much, but instead, he folded her in his -arms, and she nestled there, content. For a long, happy moment they -stood, lost to the world of thought; and then she looked up at him, and -laughed. - -“I knew it from your voice,” she said. - -He laughed with her; then he grew grave, but there was the light of a -great happiness in his gravity. - -“I have resigned,” he told her. - -That was a part of what she had known. - -“And not for me!” she exulted. It was not a question. She saw that in -him was no doubt, no quandary, no struggle between faith and disbelief. - -“I see my way clearly,” he smiled down at her; “and there are no thorns -to cut for me. I shall never change.” - -“And we shall walk hand in hand about the greatest work in the world,” -she softly reminded him, and there were tears in her eyes. “But what -work shall that be, Tod?” She looked up at him for guidance, now. - -“To shed into other lives some of the beauty which blossoms in our own,” -he replied, walking with her into the great dim nave, where the shadows -still quivered with the under-echoes of the mighty Bach prelude. “I have -been thinking much of the many things you have said to me,” he told her, -“and particularly of the need, not for a new religion, but for a -re-birth of the old; that same new impulse towards the better and the -higher life which Christ brought into the world. I have been thinking on -the mission of Him, and it was the very mission to the need of which you -have held so firmly. He came to clear away the thorns of creed which had -grown up between the human heart and God! The brambles have grown again. -The time is almost ripe, Gail, for a new quickening of the spirit; for -the Second Coming.” - -She glanced at him, startled. - -“For a new voice in the wilderness,” she wondered. - -“Not yet,” he answered. “We have signs in the hearts of men, for there -is a great awakening of the public conscience throughout the world; but -before the day of harvest arrives, we must have a sign in the sky. No -great spiritual revival has ever swept the world without its attendant -supernatural phenomena, for mysticism is a part of religion, and will be -to the end of time. Reason, by the very nature of itself, realises its -own limitations, and demands something beyond its understanding upon -which to hang its faith. It is the need of faith which distinguishes the -soul from the mind.” - -“A sign,” mused Gail, her eyes aglow with the majesty of the thought. - -“It will come,” he assured her, with the calm prescience of prophecy -itself. “As no great spiritual revival has ever swept the world without -its attendant supernatural phenomena, so no great spiritual revival has -ever swept the world without its concreted symbol which men might wear -upon their breasts. The cross! What shall be its successor? A ball of -fire in the sky? Who knows! If that symbol of man’s spiritual -rejuvenation, of his renewed nearness to God, were, in reality, a ball -of fire, Gail, I would hold it up in the sight of all mankind though it -shrivelled my arm!” - -The thin treble note stole out of the organ loft, pulsing its timid way -among the high, dim arches, as if seeking a lodgment where it might -fasten its tiny thread of harmony, and grow into a song of new glory, -the glory which had been born that day in the two earnest hearts beneath -in the avenue of slender columns. The soft light from one of the -clerestory windows flooded in on the compassionate Son of Man above the -altar. The very air seemed to vibrate with the new inspiration which had -been voiced in the old Market Square Church. Gail gazed up at Smith -Boyd, with the first content her heart had ever known; content in which -there was both earnestness and serenity, to replace all her groping. He -met her gaze with eyes in which there glowed the endless love which it -is beyond the power of speech to tell. There was a moment of ecstasy, of -complete understanding, of the perfect unity which should last -throughout their lives. In that harmony, they walked from the canopy of -dim arches, out through the vestry, and beneath the door above which -perched the two grey doves, cooing. For an instant Gail looked back into -the solemn depths, and a wistfulness came into her eyes. - -“The ball of fire,” she mused. “When shall we see it in the sky?” - - - VAIL-BALLOU CO., BINGHAMTON AND NEW YORK - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - 3. 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