CHAPTER VII
WHICH EXHIBITS THE IMPORTANCE OF REMEMBERING A DANCE NUMBER
And so the kid was finding the same trouble which he had met. They hadbeen too frank in stating that they intended to obtain control of thecompany without any larger investments than their patents and theirscheme. Sam wandered through the hall, revolving this matter in hismind, and out at the rear door, which framed an inviting vista ofgreen. He strolled back past the barn toward the upper reaches of thebrook path, and sitting amid the comfortably gnarled roots of a bigtree he lit a cigar and began with violence to snap little pebbles intothe brook. If he were promoting a crooked scheme, he reflectedsavagely, he would have no difficulty whatever in floating it uponalmost any terms he wanted. Well, there was one thing certain; at thefinish, control would be in his own hands! But how to secure it andstill float the company promptly and advantageously? There was theproblem. He liked this crowd. They were good, keen, vigorous,enterprising men, fine men with whom to do business, men who wouldsnatch control away from him if they could, and throw him out in thecold in a minute if they deemed it necessary or expedient. Of coursethat was to be expected. It was a part of the game. He would ratherdeal with these progressive people, knowing their tendencies, than witha lot of sapheads.
How to get control? He lingered long and thoughtfully over thatquestion, perhaps an hour, until presently he became aware that aslight young girl, with a fetching sun-hat and a basket, was walkingpensively along the path on the opposite side of the brook, for thethird time. Her passing and repassing before his abstracted andunseeing vision had become slightly monotonous, and for the first timehe focused his eyes back from their distant view of pulp marshes andstock certificates and inspected the girl directly. Why, he knew thatgirl! It was Miss Hastings.
As if in obedience to his steady gaze she looked across at him andwaved her basket.
"Where are you going?" he asked with the heartiness of enforcedcourtesy.
"After ferns," she responded, and laughed.
"By George, that's so!" he said, and ran up the stream to a narrowplace where he made a magnificent jump and only got one shoe wet.
He was profuse, not in his apologies, but in his intention to make them.
"Jinks!" he said. "I'm ashamed to say I forgot all about that. Ifound myself suddenly confronted with a business proposition that hadto be worked out, and I thought of nothing else."
"I hope you succeeded," she said pleasantly.
There wasn't a particle of vengefulness about Miss Hastings. She wasnot one to hold this against him; he could see that at once! Sheunderstood men. She knew that grave problems frequently confrontedthem, and that such minor things as fern gathering expeditions wouldnecessarily have to step aside and be forgotten. She was one of thebright, cheerful, always smiling kind; one who would make a sunshinyhelpmate for any man, and never object to anything he did--beforemarriage.
All this she conveyed in lively but appealing chatter; all, that is,except the last part of it, a deduction which Sam supplied for himself.For the first time in his life he had paused to judge a girl as hewould "size up" a man, and he was a little bit sorry that he had doneso, for while Miss Hastings was very agreeable, there was a certainacidulous sharpness about her nose and uncompromising thinness abouther lips which no amount of laughing vivacity could quite conceal.
Dutifully, however, he gathered ferns for the rockery of her aunt inAlbany, and Miss Hastings, in return, did her best to amuse anddelight, and delicately to convey the thought of what an agreeablething it would be for a man always to have this cheerful companionship.She even, on the way back, went so far as inadvertently to call himSam, and apologized immediately in the most charming confusion.
"Really," she added in explanation, "I have heard Mr. Westlake and theothers call you Sam so often that the name just seems to slip out."
"That's right," he said cordially. "Sam's my name. When people callme Mr. Turner I know they are strangers."
"Then I think I shall call you Sam," she said, laughing mostengagingly. "It's so much easier," and sure enough she did as soon asthey were well within the hearing of Miss Westlake, at the hotel.
"Oh, Sam," she called, turning in the doorway, "you have my gloves inyour pocket."
Miss Westlake stiffened like an icicle, and a stern resolve came uponher. Whatever happened, she saw her duty plainly before her. She hadintroduced Mr. Turner to Miss Hastings, and she was responsible. Itwas her moral obligation to rescue him from the clutches of thatdesigning young person, and she immediately reminded him that she hadan engagement to give him a tennis lesson every day. There was stilltime for a set before dinner. Also, far be it from her to be soforward as to call him Sam, or to annoy him with silly chattering. Shewas serious-minded, was Miss Westlake, and sweet and helpful; any mancould see that; and she fairly adored business. It was so interesting.
When they came back from their tennis game, hurrying because it washigh time to dress for dinner and the dance, she met Miss Hastings inthe hall, but the two bosom friends barely nodded. There had sprung upan unaccountable coolness between them, a coolness which Sam by nomeans noticed, however, for at the far end of the porch sat Princeman,already back from Hollis Creek to dress, and with him were Westlake andMcComas and Blackrock and Cuthbert, and they were in very closeconference. When Sam approached them they stopped talking abruptly forjust one little moment, then resumed the conversation quite naturally,even more than quite naturally in fact, and the experienced Sam smiledgrimly as he excused himself to dress.
Billy Westlake met him as he was going up-stairs. To Billy had beenentrusted the office of rounding up all the young people who were goingover to Hollis Creek, and by previous instruction, though wondering athis sister's choice, he assigned Sam to that young lady, a fate whichSam accepted with becoming gratitude.
He had plenty of food for thought as he donned his costume of deadblack and staring white, and somehow or other he was distrait thatevening all the way over to Hollis Creek. Only when he met MissStevens did he brighten, as he might well do, for Miss Stevens,charming in every guise, was a revelation in evening costume; aravishing revelation; one to make a man pause and wonder and stand inawe, and regard himself as a clumsy creature not worthy to touch thehem of the garment which embellished such a divine being. Neverthelesshe conquered that wave of diffidence in a jiffy, or something like halfthat space of time, and shook hands with her most eagerly, and lookedinto her eyes and was grateful; for he found them smiling up at him inmost friendly fashion, and with rather an electric thrill in them, too,though whether the thrill emanated from the eyes or was merely withinhimself he was not sure.
"How many dances do I get?" he abruptly demanded.
"Just two," she told him, and showed him her card and gave him one onwhich a list of names had already been marked by the young ladies ofHollis Creek.
He saw on the card two dances with Miss Stevens, one each with MissWestlake and Miss Hastings, and one each with a number of other youngladies whom he had met but vaguely, and one each with some whom he hadnot met at all. He dutifully went through the first dance with a younglady of excellent connections who would make a prime companion for anyadvancing young man with social aspirations; he went dutifully throughthe next dance with a young lady who was keen on intellectual pursuits,and who would make an excellent helpmate for any young man who wishedto advance in culture as he progressed in business, and danced the nextone with a young lady who believed that home-making should be thehighest aim of womankind; and then came his first dance with MissStevens! They did not talk very much, but it was very, very comfortingto be with her, just to know that she was there, and to know thatsomehow she understood. He was sorry, though, that he stepped upon hergown.
The promenade, which had seemed quite long enough with the other youngladies, seemed all too short for Sam up to the point when BillyWestlake came to take Miss Josephine away. He was feeling ratherlonely when Tilloughby came up to him, w
ith a charming young lady whowas in quite a flutter. It seemed that there had been a dreadfulmistake in the making out of the dance cards, which the young ladies ofHollis Creek had endeavored to do with strict equity, though hastily,and all was now inextricable confusion. The charming young lady was onthe cards for this dance with both Mr. Tilloughby and Mr. Turner, andMr. Tilloughby had claimed her first. Would Mr. Turner kindly excuseher? Just behind her came another young lady whom Mr. Tilloughbyintroduced. This young lady was on Sam's card for the next dancefollowing this one, but it should be for the eighth dance, and wouldMr. Turner please change his card accordingly, which Mr. Turnerobligingly did, wondering what he should do when it came to the eighthdance and he should find himself obligated to two young ladies. Oh,well, he reflected, no doubt the other young lady was down for theeighth dance with some one else, if they had things so mixed. Of onething he was sure. He had that tenth dance with Miss Stevens. He hadinspected both cards to make certain of that, and had seen withcarefully concealed joy that she had compared them as minutely as hehad. He saw confusion going on all about him, laughing young peopleattempting to straighten out the tangle, and the dance was slow instarting.
Almost the first two on the floor were Miss Stevens and Billy Westlake,and as he saw them, from his vantage point outside one of the broadwindows, gliding gracefully up the far side of the room, he realizedwith a twinge of impatience what a remarkably unskilled dancer hehimself was. Billy and Miss Stevens were talking, too, with thegreatest animation, and she was looking up at Billy as brightly, evenmore brightly he thought, than she had at himself. There was adelicate flush on her cheeks. Her lips, full and red and deliciouslycurved, were parted in a smile. Confound it anyhow! What could shefind to talk about with Billy Westlake?
He was turning away in more or less impatience, when Mr. Stevens,looking, in some way, with his aggressive, white, outstanding beard, asif he ought to have a red ribbon diagonally across his white shirtfront, ranged beside him.
"Fine sight, isn't it?" observed Mr. Stevens.
"Yes," admitted Mr. Turner, almost shortly, and forced himself to turnaway from the following of that dazzling vision, which was almostpainful under the circumstances.
By mutual impulse they walked down the length of the side porch andacross the front porch. Sam drew himself away from dancing and certaincorrelated ideas with a jerk.
"I've been wanting to talk with you, Mr. Stevens," he observed. "Ithink I'll drop over to-morrow for a little while."
"Glad to have you any time, Sam," responded Mr. Stevens heartily, "butthere is no time like the present, you know. What's on your mind?"
"This Marsh Pulp Company," said Sam; "do you know anything about pulpand paper?"
"A little bit. You know I have some stock in Princeman's company."
"Oh," returned Sam thoughtfully.
"Not enough to hurt, however," Stevens went on. "Twenty shares, Ibelieve. When I went in I had several times as much, but not enough tomake me a dominant factor by any means, and Princeman, as he made moremoney, wanted some of it, so I let him buy up quite a number of shares.At one time I was very much interested, however, and visited the millsquite frequently."
"You're rather close to Princeman in a business way, aren't you?" Samasked after duly cautious reflection.
"Not at all, although we get along very nicely indeed. I made money onmy paper stock, both in dividends and in a very comfortable advancewhen I sold it. Our relations have always been friendly, but verylittle more. Why?"
"Oh, nothing. Only Princeman is much interested in my Pulp Company,and all the people who are going in are his friends. The crowd over atMeadow Brook talks of taking up approximately the entire stock of mycompany. I thought possibly you might be interested."
"I am right now, from what I have already heard of it," returnedStevens, who had almost at first sight succumbed to that indefinablepersonal appeal which caused Sam Turner to be trusted of all men. "Ishall be very glad to hear more about it. It struck me when you spokeof it yesterday as a very good proposition."
They had reached the dark corner at the far end of the porch, illuminedonly by the subdued light which came from a half-hidden window, and nowthey sat down. Sam fished in the little armpit pocket of his dresscoat and dragged forth two tiny samples of pulp and two tiny samples ofpaper.
"These two," he stated, "were samples sent me to-day by my kid brother."
Mr. Stevens took the samples and examined them with interest. He felttheir texture. He twisted them and crumpled them and bent thembackward and forward and tore them. Then, the light at this windowbeing too weak, he went to one of the broad windows where a strongerstream of light came out, and examined them anew. Sam, still sittingin his chair, nodded in satisfied approval. He liked that kind ofinspection. Mr. Stevens brought the samples back.
"They are excellent, so far as I am able to judge," he announced."These are samples made by yourselves from marsh products?"
"Yes," Sam assured him. "Made from marsh-grown material by our newprocess, which is much cheaper than the wood-pulp process. Do you knowMr. Creamer of the Eureka Paper Mills?"
"Not very well. I've met him once or twice at dinners, but I'm notintimately acquainted with him. I hear, however, that he is anauthority."
"Here's a letter from him, and some samples made by him under ourprocess," said Sam with secret satisfaction. "I just received themthis morning." From the same pocket he took the letter without itsenvelope, and with it handed over the two other small samples.
"That's a fine showing," Stevens commented when he had examineddocument and samples and brought them back, and he sat down, edgingabout so that he and Sam sat side by side but facing each other, as ina tete-a-tete chair. "Now tell me all about it."
On and on went the music in the ball-room, on went the shuffling offeet, the swish of garments, the gay talk and laughter of the youngpeople; and on and on talked Mr. Stevens and Mr. Turner, until onefamiliar strain of music penetrated into Sam's inner consciousness; the_Home Sweet Home_ waltz!
"By George!" he exclaimed, jumping up. "That can't be the last."
"Sounds like it," commented Mr. Stevens, also rising. "It is the lastif they make up programs as they did in my young days. I don'tremember of many dances where the _Home Sweet Home_ waltz didn't end itup. It's late enough anyhow. It's eleven-thirty."
"Then I have done it again!" said Sam ruefully. "I had the number tendance with your daughter."
Mr. Stevens closed his eyes to laugh.
"You certainly have put your foot in it," he admitted. "Oh, well, Jo'ssensible," he added with a father's fond ignorance. "She'llunderstand."
"That's what I'm afraid of," replied Mr. Turner ruefully. "You'll haveto intercede for me. Explain to her about it and soften the case asmuch as you can. Frankly, Mr. Stevens, I'd be tremendously cut up tobe on the outs with Miss Josephine."
"There are shoals of young men who feel that way about it, Sam," saidMr. Stevens with large and commendable pride. "However, I am glad thatyou have added yourself to the list," and he gazed after Sam withconsiderable approbation, as that young man hurried away to display hisabjectness to the young lady in question.
Three times, on the arm of Princeman, she whirled past the open doorwaywhere Sam stood, but somehow or other he found it impossible to catchher eye. The dance ended when she was on the other side of the room,and immediately, with the last strains, the floor was in confusion.Sam tried desperately to hurry across to where she was, but he lost herin the crowd. He did not see her again until all of the Meadow Brookfolk, including himself, were seated in the carryalls, at which timethe Hollis Creek folk were at the edge of the porte-cochere and bothparties were exchanging a gabbling pandemonium of good-bys. He saw herthen, standing back among the crowd, and shouting her adieus asvociferously as any of them. He caught her eye and she nodded to himas pleasantly as to anybody, which was really worse than if she hadrefused to acknowledge him at all!
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