CHAPTER XXVII
TAKEN BY SURPRISE
"At last I'll know where I stand, anyway," muttered Jim to himself,as the train sped on toward Riverside. "It wouldn't have done a bitof good to write to her. Her letters are so vague and unsatisfactorythese days. I must see her. Then I'll be able to tell whether there isanything to this story of my millionaire rival."
He tried to make himself think that there was nothing in what Reggiehad let slip, in what Joe had reluctantly told him. Surely, they hadbeen mistaken. Clara, after all that had passed between them, could nottreat him so shabbily!
And yet--the thought made him frown and bite his lip fiercely--wherethere was so much smoke it seemed certain there must be some fire. Longbefore he had known definitely of a rival with millions who had beenbesieging Clara with his attentions, he had thought he sensed a changein her attitude toward him. Her letters had not been so regular. Onceor twice he had missed them altogether. Those that did come had lefthim vaguely disappointed, unhappy. The reason for his dissatisfactionhad eluded him. Then suddenly, it had all become clear. Clara was beingwon away from him by a chap with more money than he had! He clenchedhis hands and his mouth became grim. At any rate he would have onesatisfaction. He would tell this fellow just what he thought of him,and that in no uncertain terms! Perhaps the chap would give him someexcuse for thrashing him. His eyes glinted and his fists clenched.
The swift motion of the train was grateful to him. It seemed to keeptime with his hurried thoughts. But the knowledge that every mile ofground they covered brought him nearer to Clara was more terrifyingthan anything else. He thought of the last time he had boarded a trainto go to his sweetheart, and the lines about his mouth grew deeper. Hedreaded what he might find at the end of the journey.
He had expected a letter from Clara that morning, had hoped he wouldget it before leaving. But, as had been the case more and more often inthe last few weeks, he had been disappointed, had been forced to starton his trip with no word from her.
He took out a magazine and tried to read. The words were a meaninglessblur before his eyes, and he threw the magazine away from him with anexclamation of disgust. What good was he, anyway? He could not, evenfor a few moments, force his mind away from his troubles.
And so it was with a mixture of perturbation and relief that he at lastcame to an alert consciousness of his surroundings, to find himself atthe next station to Riverside. He pulled himself together and preparedto face facts. His uncertainty was nearly at an end. It seemed to himthat nothing that could happen in the future could be any worse thanwhat he had already been through.
Before the train had stopped at Riverside, Jim had flung himself andhis one bag on to the platform. He glanced about him quickly to assurehimself that no old acquaintances were around the place, then startedoff at a brisk pace in the direction of the Matson home.
As he approached nearer his destination, he unconsciously slackenedhis pace. He had sent Clara no word of his coming. That part had beenintentional. Since he was about to find out the truth, it would be farbetter to take the girl by surprise than to warn her of his coming andso give her time to prepare for it.
Perhaps, he thought bitterly, and his steps lagged still more, Clarawould not even care to deceive him with a show of affection. Thishated millionaire might even have dazzled her to the extent of abroken engagement with him, Jim.
At the thought, new anger kindled in him, and he strode forward withresolution. At the moment, all he cared about was a meeting with hisrival. He did not know how soon that desire was to be gratified.
A turn in the road brought him within view of the pleasant Matsonhome. At the familiar sight of it, something swelled in Jim's throat.He had felt so a part of that household, had been so wonderfully sureof Clara's love. Could it be possible that all his faith had beenmisplaced, all his hopes and dreams only idle and vain imaginings?
The house was coming nearer, seemed to be rushing to meet him. Withevery step he dreaded more to know the secret it was hiding from him.
He had reached the gate, had swung it open noiselessly. The porch stepsinvited--the steps where he and Clara had often sat in the twilight,dreamily planning their life together. But for some reason he avoidedthem.
He had no desire to see any one but Clara just then, and instincttold him he would find her in the garden. So to the garden he turned,hungrily drinking in the fragrance of the flowers, the ache at hisheart more poignant as each new and familiar object met his eye.
He heard voices and stopped still. One of them was Clara's. Shewas laughing lightly at some pleasantry directed to her in a deep,masculine voice.
At the sound, Jim suddenly saw red. All the anxiety, the worry, theheartache of the last few weeks, took toll at once. With a grumble ofwrath away down in his throat, he almost ran the remaining few feetthat hid from him the two in the garden.
Clara was sitting on a rustic bench. She wore a pretty dress of rosymaterial that matched the color in her cheeks. She was looking up at ablond giant whose attitude expressed complete devotion. The giant wasspeaking in the deep, musical voice which had so infuriated Jim.
"Miss Matson, I'm going to Europe in a few days and I must know if Ihave any chance at all with you. It isn't possible for me to go on thisway----"
"Good afternoon," said Jim, in a voice of suppressed emotion. "Sorry tointrude."