Part 31

The girl, hurrying to him, engaged his attention until she had seated herself on the arm of his chair. Then he saw Mayo, recognized him, and tried to rise, but she pushed him back, urging him with eager appeal.

“You must listen to me, father! It is serious! It is important!”

He groped for the row of desk buttons, but she held his hand from them.

Captain Mayo strode forward, determined to speak for himself, rendered bold by the courageous sacrifice the girl was making.

“Not a word! Not a word! The supreme impudence of it!” Marston repeated the last phrase several times with increasing violence. He pushed his daughter off the arm of the chair and struggled up. Only heroic measures could save that situation—and the girl knew her father! She forced herself between him and his desk.

“You'd better listen!” she warned him, hysterically. “A few days ago I ran away to be married!”

He stood there, stricken motionless, and she put her hands against his breast and pressed him back into his chair.

“But this is not the man, father!”

Marston had been gathering his voice for wild invective, but that last statement took away all his power of speech.

“I warned you that you'd better listen!”

In that moment she dominated the situation as completely as if she stood between the two men with a lighted bomb in her hand.

Mayo was overwhelmed even more completely than the financier. He realized that her extortion of a pledge from him had been subterfuge; her triumphant eyes flashed complete information on that point. Both anger and bewilderment made him incapable of any sane attempt to press his case with Marston at that time. He turned and started for the door.

“Stop that man, father. You'll be sorry if you do not! He must stay!”

“Come back here!” shouted Marston.

Mayo looked behind.

The magnate stood with finger on the push-button. “Come back, I say!”

“I protest. This is none of my business. I am here for something else than to listen to your daughter's private affairs.”

“You come back!” commanded the father in low tones of menace, “or I'll have you held for the United States marshals the minute you step foot outside that door.”

Raging within himself at the tactics of this incomprehensible girl, Captain Mayo walked slowly to the desk; it occurred to him that it was as hard to get out of Julius Marston's office as it was to get in.

“I would never have come in here if I had dreamed that your daughter would tell you what she has. I am in a false position. I insist that you allow me to leave.”

“You'll leave when I get to the bottom of this thing! Now, Alma, what new craziness is all this?”

“I am not resenting the word you apply to it,” she replied, facing him resolutely. “I did it—and I don't know why I did it!”

“Did what?”

“I ran away. I did it because the girls dared me to do it. I promised a man I would marry him.”

“This man, eh?”

“No. I have told you this is not the man.”

“Well, who, then?” Incredulity was mingled with her father's wrath.

“One of your trusted young gentlemen. Mr. Ralph Bradish.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“At the dances.”

“Not at our house?”

“I do not know how you are so sure of that, father,” she returned, a touch of rather wistful reproach in her tones. “You have left me alone in that house ever since mother went away. But it was not at our house—it was in the public ball-rooms.”

“Hell set to music!” he rasped. “I ought to have realized that you are still an infant!”

“No; I am a woman to-day. I lived a whole lifetime in one night on the ocean. I know you have reason to be ashamed of me. But I'll never give you cause for shame again. Now what are you going to say to this man who saved my life—who did more than that? He saved me from myself!”

Marston narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Mayo. “I don't understand this thing yet! The story doesn't ring right.” He turned on his daughter. “How did this man save your life? Be quick and be short!”

He interrupted her in the middle of her eager recital. He had been scowling while she talked, staring into vacancy in meditation.

“A story-book tale!” he declared, impatiently, and yet there was a shade of insincerity in that impatience. “I would be bitterly ashamed of you, Alma, if you had run away as you are trying to make me believe. But—”

“Don't you believe me?”

“Silence! But this trumped-up story is too transparent. You are still acting the fool in the matter of this person, here. Now see here, my man, you are here to-day on the Montana affair. Isn't that so?”

“It is, sir.”

“I was sure of it. How did you dare to sneak into that job after I had discharged you from the Olenia?”

“There was no sneaking to it! I was hired by Mr. Fogg and I—”

“You may be sure that I did not know you were on board the Montana. But I cannot attend to all the details of my business. You realize, don't you, that you are a fugitive from justice?”

“I am a scapegoat for the dirty dogs who operate for you!”

“That's enough! I am investigating this matter now? Sit down in that chair!”

Mayo obeyed, lulled by the assurance.

“Alma, you go home!”

“I am going to stay here, father, until Captain Mayo—”

“I have listened to all the falsehoods I propose to hear!” This rejoinder astounded his two listeners. “I see into this matter clear to the bottom. I am amazed that you should think such a silly yarn would deceive me for a moment.” He had pressed one of the buttons. To the man who opened the door he said: “Tell Mr. Bradish that I want to see him here at once. He is in the office, isn't he?”

“Yes, sir! I will inform him.”

Mayo and the girl exchanged eloquent looks; they had been leaving Mr. Bradish out of their calculations; they had discarded him from their thoughts; that he had had the effrontery to reappear in the Marston & Waller offices was news indeed.

Marston took the girl by the arm and led her toward a door. “I tell you to go home!” he cried, angrily, stopping her protests. “No, you are going by this side door. I do not believe one word you have told me. It's all a transparent attempt to continue your folly. I'll know how to look after you from now on!” He closed the door behind her and locked it.

“I swear this is all true, sir,” pleaded Mayo. “I'm not trying to deceive you through your daughter. I did not understand what she intended to say. I want my rights as a man who has been tricked, abused—”

Mr. Bradish appeared, bowing respectfully. He was once more part of the smooth machinery of the Marston & Waller offices. He was pale, calm, cool, subdued master of his emotions as the employees of Julius Marston were trained to be.

“Did you ever see this man before? Of course you never did!” prompted the financier.

“I never saw him before, sir.”

“Certainly not! What have you to say to the ridiculous, nonsensical story that you attempted to elope with my daughter?”

Not by a flicker of the eyelids did the imperturbable maker of million-dollar checks show confusion.

“If such a lie needs denial from me I most firmly do deny it, sir.”

“You cheap renegade!” roared the captain.

“That will do, Mr. Bradish!”

The clerk obeyed the wave of his master's hand and retired quickly.

“Mr. Marston,” raved Mayo, “I'm fighting for all that's worth while to me in life. My reputation as a master mariner, my chance to make a living in my work. I was a fool on board your yacht! With all my soul I am penitent. I will-”

“Enough! Don't you dare to discuss my own daughter with me!”

“I don't intend to, sir. I'm going to believe that you don't know what your understrappers have done to me. You only see results. But find out what is being done in your name, Mr. Marston. Some day it will be bad for you if you don't stop 'em.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It's only my appeal for justice. My God, sir—”

“There's justice waiting for you.”

“Then send out for your marshals. Let them drag me into court! Your man Bradigh's mouth is closed now, but it has been open. I know what has been done to me. Let them put me on the stand. You don't dare to have me stand up in court and tell what I know.”

“Do you suppose I am running the Federal courts?”

“You'd better find out whether you have power or not. There are men in this world who will believe an honest man's true story!”

“Good day!” said Mr. Marston, significantly.

Mayo hesitated, gazed into the impassive countenance of the magnate, and then conviction of the uselessness of argument overwhelmed him. He started for the door.

“Certain sensible things can be done,” Marston called after him. “You'd better get out of New York. If you know of a place to hide you'd better get into it.”

Mayo did not reply. He strode out through the offices, descended to the street, and went on his way.

He did not notice that an automobile pursued him through the roaring traffic of the streets, halting ahead of him when, he had turned into one of the quieter thoroughfares.

The car was close to the curb, and Alma Marston put out her hand and signaled to him. “He gave-you no hope-nothing?”

“Nothing!”

“I have waited. I thought of asking you to come for a talk with me.”

He shook his head.

“Perhaps it's better as it is! There isn't very much to be said-not now!” She leaned over the side of the tonneau and the clatter of traffic enabled her to talk without taking the eavesdropping chauffeur into their confidence. “I am not worthy of your thoughts or your confidence after this, Boyd. What I was yesterday I am not to-day; I have told you that. No, do not say anything! I know, now, that I was only playing with love. I cannot name what I feel for you now; I have insulted the word 'love' too much in the past. I'm not going to say anything about it. Was it any excuse for me that you had sunk a ship, were going to prison for killing men, so the papers hinted? No, it was not! But I allowed myself to make it an excuse for folly.”

“You don't know what love is,” he declared. In the agony of his degradation he had no relish for softer sentiments. But he did not dare to look up at her.

“I did not know! But perhaps some day I can show you that I do now know,” she replied, humbly. “That will be the day when I can give you the proofs against the men who have tried to ruin you. I am inside the camp of your enemies, Boyd, and I'll give you those proofs—even against my own father, if he is guilty. That's all! Let's wait. But while you are working I hope it's going to give you a bit of courage to know that I am working for you!” She patted his cheek. “Go on!” she called to her driver. The car jerked forward and was hidden among the chariots roaring down through the modern Babylon.

Without power for self-analysis, without being able to penetrate the inner recesses of his own soul in that crisis, he trudged on.

A little later, almost unconscious of volition in the matter, he found himself at a steamboat office buying a ticket. He was going back to the obscurity of Maquoit. But he was fully conscious that he was not obeying Julius Marston's injunction to go and hide. A deeper sentiment was drawing him. He knew where there existed simple faith in him and affection for him, and he craved that solace. There were humble folks in Maquoit who would welcome him.

“I'll go back—I'll go home,” he said. Once he would have smiled at the thought that he would ever call the Hue and Cry colony “home.”

XXVI ~ THE FANGS OF OLD RAZEE

A dollar a day is a Hoosier's pay, Lowlands, lowlands, a-way, my John! Yes, a dollar a day is a Hoosier's pay, My dollar and a half a day. —Old Pumping Song.

Before leaving New York Mayo made inquiries at offices of shipping brokers and trailed Captain Zoradus Wass to his lair in the loafers' room of a towboat office. Their conference was a gloomy one; neither had any comfort for the other. Mayo was laconic in his recital of events: he said that he had run away—and had come back. Of Marston and Marston's daughter he made no mention.

“I have been to see that fat whelp of a Fogg,” stated the old master mariner. “I ain't afraid of him. I had a good excuse; I said I wanted a job. I didn't let on to him that I advised you to slip your cable, but I might have curried favor with him by saying so. He seemed to be pretty well satisfied because you had skipped.”

“Captain Wass, that's the main thing I've come to talk over with you. Here's my ticket back home. But I feel that I ought to walk up to the United States marshal's office and surrender myself. And I want to ask you about the prospects of my getting bail. Can you help me?”

“I reckon if I saw you behind bars I'd do my best to get you out, son. But you steer away from here on a straight tack and mind your own business! When the United States wants you they'll come and get you—you needn't worry!”

“But I do worry, sir! I am dodging about the streets. I expect to feel a hand on my shoulder every moment. I can't endure the strain of the thing! I don't want anybody to think I'm a sneak.”

“As near's I can find out by nosing around a little that indictment is a secret one—even if it really was returned. And I'm half inclined to think there wasn't any indictment! Perhaps those officers were only sent out to get you and hold you as a witness. Fogg has been doing most of the talking about there being an indictment. However it is, if they don't want you just yet I wouldn't go up to a cell door, son, and holler and pound and ask to be let in. Law has quite a way of giving a man what he hollers for. You go away and let me do the peeking and listening for you around these parts. I'm collecting a little line of stuff on this water-front. Haven't much else to do, these days!”

“I reckon my first hunch was the right one, sir!' I'll go along home. If you hear anybody with a badge on inquiring for me tell him I'm fishing on the Ethel and May.”

“That's a mean job for you, son. But I guess I'd better not say anything about it, seeing what I have shanghaied you into.”

“It has not been your fault or mine, what has happened, sir. I am not whining!”

“By gad! I know you ain't! But get ready to growl when the right time comes, and keep your teeth filed! When it's our turn to bite we'll make a bulldog grip of it!” He emphasized the vigor of that grip in his farewell handshake.

But Mayo did not reflect with much enthusiasm on Captain Wass's metaphorical summons to combat.

Returning to Maquoit, the young man decided that he was more like a beaten dog slinking back with canine anxiety to nurse his wounds in secret.

His experiences had been too dreadful and too many in the last few days to be separated and assimilated. He had been like a man stunned by a fall—paralyzed by a blow. Now the agonizing tingle of memory and despair made his thoughts an exquisite torture. He tried to put Alma Marston out of those thoughts. He did not dare to try to find a place for her in the economy of his affairs. However, she and he had been down to the gates of death together, and he realized that the experience had had its effect on her nature; he believed that it had developed her character as well. Insistently the memory of her parting words was with him, and he knew, in spite of his brutal and furious efforts to condemn her, that love was not dead and that hope still lived.

He swung aboard the Ethel and May one afternoon, after he had waited patiently for her arrival with her fare.

“I have come back to fish with you, Captain Candage, until my troubles are straightened out—if they ever are.”

Captain Candage was silent, controlling some visible emotions.

“I have come back to be with folks who won't talk too much about those troubles,” he added, gloomily.

“Exactly,” agreed the skipper. “Nothing is ever gained by stirring up trouble after it has been well cooked. Swing the pot back over the fire, I say, and let it simmer till it cools off of itself. I thought you would come back.”

“Why?”

“Well, I knew they had taken away your papers. Furthermore, Polly has been saying that you would come back.”

“And why did she think so?” asked Mayo, in milder tones.

“She didn't say why,” admitted Captain Candage. “Maybe women see into things deeper than men do.”

“It seems like coming home—coming home when a man is sick and tired of everything in the world, sir.”

“Reckon my Polly had something like that in mind. She dropped a few hints that she hoped you'd come and get rested up from your troubles.”

“And she has gone back to her work, I suppose?”

“No, she is still on her job at Maquoit, sir—calls it her real job. She isn't a quitter, Polly isn't. She says they need her.”

“Like the song says, 'The flowers need the sunshine and the roses need the dew,' that's how they need her,” averred Oakum Otie. “Though them Hue and Cry women and children can't be said to be much like roses and geraniums! But they're more like it than they ever was before, since Miss Polly has taken hold of 'em. It's wonderful what a good girl can do when she tries, Captain Mayo!”

Resuming his life on the fishing-schooner was like slipping on a pair of old shoes, and Mayo was grateful for that New England stoicism which had greeted him in such matter-of-fact fashion.

“What you want to tell me is all right and what you don't want to tell me is still better,” stated Captain Candage. “Because when you ain't talking about it you ain't stirring it!”

So, in that fashion, he came back into the humble life of Maquoit. There had been no awkwardness in his meeting with Captain Candage; it had been man to man, and they understood how to dispense with words. But Mayo looked forward to his meeting with Polly Candage without feeling that equanimity which the father had inspired.

He felt an almost overmastering desire to confide to her his troubles of the heart. But he knew that he would not be able to do that. His little temple had been so cruelly profaned. His humiliation was too great.

He was conscious that some other reason was operating to hold him back from explaining to her; and because he did not understand just what it was he was ill at ease when he did come face to face with her. He was grateful for one circumstance—their first meeting was in the old fish-house at Maquoit, under the hundred curious eyes of the colony. He had rowed ashore in his dory and went to seek her in the midst of her activities. She put out both her hands and greeted him with frank pleasure and seemed to understand his constraint, to anticipate his own thoughts, to respect his reticence.

“I'm glad you have come back to wait till all your troubles are settled. The most consoling friends are those who know and who sympathize and who keep still! Now come with me and listen to the children and see what the women are doing. You will be proud and glad because you spoke up for them that day when we went over to Hue and Cry.”