CHAPTER IX
WHEREIN SAM TURNER PROVES HIMSELF TO BE A VIOLENT FLIRT
The rest of that week was a worried and an anxious one for Sam. Hesent daily advices to his brother, and he received daily advices inreturn. The people upon whom he had originally counted to form theMarsh Pulp Company had set themselves coldly against the matter ofcontrol, and on comparing the apparent situation in New York with thesituation at Meadow Brook, he made sure that he could secure moreadvantageous terms with the Princeman crowd. He spent his time inwrestling with his prospective investors both singly and in groups, butthey were obdurate. They liked his company, they saw in it tremendouspossibilities, but they did not intend to invest their money where theycould not vote it. That was flat!
This was on the business side. About the really important matter ofMiss Stevens, since his most recent bad performance, the time when hehad made the special trip to see her and had spent his time in talkingbusiness with her father, he had not been able to come near her. Shewas always engaged. He saw her riding with Hollis; he saw her drivingwith Princeman; he saw her playing tennis with Billy Westlake, but thegreatest boon he ever received was a nod and a pleasant word. Heindustriously sent her flowers. She as industriously sent him nice,polite little notes of thanks.
In the meantime, alternating with his marsh pulp wrangles, he workedlike a Trojan at the athletic graces he should have cultivated in hisyounger days. He rode every morning; he practised every day at tennisand croquet; every evening he bowled; and every time some one sat atthe piano and played dance music and the young people fell intoimpromptu waltzes and two-steps on the porch, he joined them and dancedreligiously with whomsoever he found to hand; usually Miss Hastings orMiss Westlake.
The latter ingenious young lady, during this while, continued to adorebusiness, and with increasing fervor every day, and regretted, quitealoud, that she had never paid sufficient attention to this absorbingamusement, out of which all the men, that is, those who were reallystrong and purposeful, seem to derive so much satisfaction! On thefollowing Monday at Bald Hill, when Hollis Creek and Meadow Brookfraternized together, in the annual union picnic, she found occasionfor the most direct tete-a-tete of all anent commercial matters.
Under Bald Hill were any number of charming natural retreats, jumblesof Titanically toy-strewn, clean, bare rocks, screened here and thereby tangles of young scrub oak and pine which grew apparently on barestone surfaces and out of infinitesimal chinks and crannies, in utterdefiance of all natural law. Go where you would on that day, therewere couples in each of the rock shelters; young couples, engaged inthat fascinating pastime of finding out all they could about eachother, and wondering about each other, and revealing themselves to eachother as much as they cared to do, and flirting; oh, in a perfectlyrespectable sort of a way, you know; legitimate and commendableflirting; the sort of flirting which is only experimental andnecessary, and which may cease at any moment to become mere airytrifling, and turn into something intensely and desperately serious,having a vital bearing upon the entire future lives of people; andthere were deeply solemn moments, in spite of all the surface hilarityand gaiety, in many of these little out of way nooks kindly provided bybeneficent nature for this identical purpose.
In one of these nooks, a curious sort of doll's amphitheatre, partlyscreened by dwarf cedars, were Miss Westlake and Mr. Turner, and Samcould not tell you to this day how she had roped him out of the herd,and isolated him, and brought him there.
"Business is just perfectly fascinating," she was saying. "I've beentalking a lot to papa about it here lately. He thinks a great deal ofyou, by the way."
"He does," Sam grunted in non-committal acknowledgment, with the sharpreflection that he had better look out for himself if that were thecase, since the most of Westlake's old friends were bankrupt, he beingthe best business man of them all.
"Yes; he says you have an excellent business proposition, too, in yournew Marsh Pulp Company." She said marsh pulp without an instant'shesitation.
"I think it's good myself," agreed Sam; "that is, if I can keep hold ofit." Inwardly he added, "And if I can keep old Westlake's clutchesoff."
She laughed lightly.
"Papa mentioned that very thing," she informed him. "I don't think Iquite understand what control of stock means, although I've had papaexplain it to me. I gather this much, however, that it is somethingyou want very much, but can scarcely get without some large stockholdervoting his stock with you."
Sam inspected her narrowly.
"You seem to have a pretty good idea of the thing after all," headmitted, wondering how much she really knew and understood. "Butmaybe your father wouldn't like your repeating to me what youaccidentally learned from him in conversation. Business men areusually pretty particular about that."
"Oh, he wouldn't mind at all," she said airily. "I'm having himexplain a lot of things to me, because he's making separate investmentsfor Billy and me. All his new enterprises are for us, and in the lasttwo or three years he's turned over lots of stock to us in our ownnames. But I've never done any actual voting on it. I've only givenproxies. I sign a little blank, you know, that papa fills out for meand shows me where to put my name and mails to somebody or other, orelse takes it and votes it himself; but I'd rather vote it my own self.I should think it would be ever so much fun. I'm trying to find outabout how they do such things, and I'd be very glad to have you tell meall you can about it. It's just perfectly fascinating."
"Yes, it is," Sam admitted. "So you think you may eventually own somestock in the Marsh Pulp Company?" and he became quite interested.
"If papa takes any I'm quite sure I shall," she returned; "and I thinkhe will, from what he said. He seems to be so enthusiastic about itthat I'm going to ask him for this stock, and let Billy have the nextthat he buys. I hope he does take a good lot of it. Isn't this thedearest place imaginable?" and with charming naivete she looked aboutthe tiny amphitheatre-like circle, admiring the projecting stones whichformed natural seats, and the broad shelving of slippery rock which ledup to it.
"Yes, it is," said Sam with considerable thoughtfulness, and once moreinspected Miss Westlake critically.
There was no question that she would be as stout as her mother and herfather when she reached their age. However, personal attractiveness isan essence and can not be weighed by the pound. Sam was bound toadmit, after thoughtful judgment, that Miss Westlake might bepersonally attractive to a great many people, but really there hadn'tseemed to be anything flowing from him to her or from her to him, evenwhen he had held tightly to her hand to help her up the steep slope ofthe rock floor.
"Yes, it is a charming place," he once more admitted. "Looks almost asif this little semi-circle had been built out of these loose rocks bydesign. Of course, your father wouldn't take the original stock inyour name."
"Oh, no, I don't suppose so," she said. "He never does. He takes outthe stock himself, and then transfers it to us."
"Of course," Sam agreed; "and naturally he'd hold it long enough tovote at the original stock-holders' meeting."
"I couldn't say about that," she laughed. "That's going beyond mybusiness depth just yet, but I'm going to learn all about such things,"and she looked across at him with apparent shy confidence that he wouldtake pleasure in teaching her.
"Hoo-hoo-oo-oo-oo-oo!" came a sudden call from down in the road, and,turning, they saw Miss Hastings and Billy Westlake, who both wavedtheir hands at the amphitheatre couple and came scrambling up the rocks.
"Mr. Princeman and Mr. Tilloughby are looking for you everywhere,Hallie," said Miss Hastings to Miss Westlake. "You know you promisedto make that famous salad dressing of yours. Luncheon is nearly ready,all but that, and they're waiting for you over at the glade. My, whata dear little place this is! How did you ever find it?" Miss Hastingswas now quite conspicuously panting and fanning herself. "I'm so tiredclimbing those rocks," she went on. "I shall simply have to sit downand rest a bit. Billy will
take you over, Hallie, and Mr. Turner willbring me by and by, I am sure."
Mr. Turner stated that he would do so with pleasure. Miss Westlakesurveyed her dearest friend more in anger than in sorrow. It was sucha brazen trick, and she gazed from her brother to Mr. Turner in sheerwonder that they were not startled into betrayal of how shocked theywere. Whatever strong emotions they might have had upon that subjectwere utterly without reflection upon the outside, however, for BillyWestlake and Sam Turner were eying each other solely with a vacuousmutual wish of saying something decently polite and human. Mr. Turnermade a desperate stab.
"I hope you're in good form for the bowling tournament to-night," heobserved with self-urged anxiety. "Hollis Creek mustn't win, you know."
"I'm as near fit as usual," said Billy; "but Princeman is the chapwho's going to carry off the honors for Meadow Brook. Bowled anaverage last night of two forty-five. I'm sorry you couldn't make theteam."
"I should have started fifteen years ago to do that," said Sam with awry smile. "I think I would get along all right, though, if theydidn't have those grooves at the side of the alleys."
Billy Westlake looked at him gravely. Since Sam did not smile, thiscould not be a joke.
"But they are absolutely necessary, you know," he protested, as he tookhis sister's arm and helped her down the slope.
Miss Westlake went away entirely out of patience with the two men, andvery much to Billy's surprise gave him her revised estimate of thatHastings girl. Miss Hastings, however, was in a far different frame ofmind. She was an exclamation point of admiration about an endlessvariety of things; about the dear little amphitheatre, about how wellher friend Miss Westlake was looking and how successful Hallie had beenthis summer in reducing, and how much Mr. Turner was improving in histennis and croquet and riding and bowling and everything. "And, Mr.Turner, what is pulp? And do they actually make paper out of it?" shewound up.
Very gravely Mr. Turner informed her on the process of paper making,and she was a chorus of little vivacious ohs and ahs all the waythrough. She sat on the side of the stone circle from which she couldlook down the road, and she chattered on and on and on, and still on,until something she saw below warned her that she was staying anunconscionable length of time, so she rose and told Mr. Turner theymust really go, and held out her hand to be helped down the slope.That was really a very slippery rock, and it was probably no fault ofMiss Hastings that her feet slipped and that she had to throw herselfsquarely into Mr. Turner's embrace, and even throw her arm up over hisshoulder to save herself. It was a staggery place, even for a sturdilymuscled young man like Mr. Turner to keep his footing, and with thatfair burden upon him he had to stand some little time poised there toretain his balance. Then, very gently and carefully, he turnedstraight about, lifting Miss Hastings entirely from her feet andsetting her gravely down on the safe ledge below the sloping rock; butbefore he had even had time to let go of her he glanced down into theroad, toward which the turn had faced him, and saw there, looking upaghast at the tableau, Mr. Princeman and Miss Stevens!
The sharp and instantly suppressed laugh of Princeman came floating upto them, but Miss Stevens turned squarely about in the direction of theglade, and being instantly joined by Princeman, they walked quietlyaway.
Mr. Turner suddenly found himself perspiring profusely, and wascompelled to mop his brow, but Miss Hastings disdained to give any signthat anything unusual whatsoever had happened, except by walking with alimp, albeit a very slight one, as she returned to the glade. Thatlimp comforted Mr. Turner somewhat, and, spying Miss Stevens in alittle group near the tables, he was very careful to parade MissHastings straight over there and place her limp on display. MissStevens, however, walked away; no mere limp could deceive her!
Well, if she wanted to be miffed at a little accident like that, andread things falsely, and think the worst of people, she might; that wasall Sam had to say about it! but what he had to say about it did notcomfort him. He rather savagely "shook" Miss Hastings at his firstopportunity, and Vivian's dearest friend, who had been hovering in theoffing, saw him do it, which was a great satisfaction to her. Latershe seized upon him, although he had savagely sworn to stick to themen, and by some incomprehensible process Sam found himself once moretete-a-tete with Miss Westlake, just over at the edge of the gladewhere the sumac grew. She made him gather a lot of the leaves for her,and showed him how they used to weave clover wreaths when she was alittle girl, and wove one for him of sumac, and gaily crowned him withit; and just as she was putting the fool thing on his head he glancedup, and there Princeman, laughing, was just passing them a little waysoff, in company with Miss Josephine Stevens!