The Man on the Box
VIII
ANOTHER SALAD IDEA
When they found him missing, his bed untouched, his hat and coat on therack, his inseparable walking-stick in the umbrella-stand, they weremightily worried. They questioned Jane, but she knew nothing. Jack wentout to the stables; no news there. William, having driven the girlshome himself, dared say nothing. Then Jack wisely telephoned for me,and I hurried over to the house.
"Maybe he hunted up some friends last night," I suggested.
"But here's his hat!" cried Nancy.
"Oh, he's all right; don't worry. I'll take a tour around the city.I'll find him. He may be at one of the clubs."
Fortunately for Mr. James Osborne I returned home first, and therefound his note awaiting me. I was at the court by noon, armed withthirty-five and a suit of clothes of my own. I found the clerk.
"A young man, dressed as a groom, and locked up overnight," I saidcautiously. "I wish to pay his fine."
"James Osborne?"
"Yes, that's the name; James Osborne,"--reaching down into my pocket.
"Fine's just been paid. We were about to release him. Here, officer,show this gentleman to James Osborne's cell, and tell him to pack upand get out."
So his fine was paid! Found the money in his clothes, doubtless. On theway to the cells I wondered what the deuce the rascal had been doing toget locked up overnight. I was vastly angry, but at the sight of himall my anger melted into a prolonged shout of laughter.
"That's right; laugh, you old pirate! I wish you had been in my boots afew hours ago. Lord!"
I laughed again.
"Have you got that thirty-five?" he asked.
"Why, your fine has been paid," I replied, rather surprised.
"And didn't you pay it?"
"Not I! The clerk told me that it had just been paid."
Warburton's jaw sank limply. "Just been paid?--Who the deuce could havepaid it, or known?"
"First, tell me what you've been up to."
He told me snatches of the exploit as he changed his clothes, and itwas a question which of us laughed the more. But he didn't say a wordabout the stolen kiss, for which I think none the less of him.
"Who were the women?" I asked.
He looked at me for a space, as if deciding. Finally he made a negativesign.
"Don't know who they were, eh?"--incredulously.
He shrugged, laughed, and drew on his shoes.
"I always knew that I was the jackass of the family, Chuck, but I neverexpected to do it so well. Let's get out of this hole. I wonder who canhave paid that fine?... No, that would not be possible!"
"What would not be?"
"Nothing, nothing,"--laughing.
But I could see that his spirits had gone up several degrees.
"The whole thing is likely to be in the evening papers," I said. Heneeded a little worrying. And I knew his horror of publicity.
"The newspapers? In the newspapers? Oh, I say, Chuck, can't you useyour influence to suppress the thing? Think of the girls."
"I'll do the best I can. And there's only one thing for you to do, andthat is to cut out of town till your beard has grown. It would serveyou right, however, if the reporters got the true facts."
"I'm for getting out of town, Chuck; and on the next train but one."
Here our conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a policeman.
"A note for _Mister_ Osborne,"--ironically. He tossed the letter toWarburton and withdrew.
_Mister_ Osborne eagerly tore open an end of the envelope--a veryaristocratic envelope, as I could readily discern--and extracted theletter. I closely watched his facial expressions. First, there wasinterest, then surprise, to be succeeded by amusement and a certainexultation. He slapped his thigh.
"By George, Chuck. I'll do it!"
"Do it? Now what?"
"Listen to this." He cleared his throat, sniffed of the faintly scentedpaper and cleared his throat again. He looked up at me drolly.
"Well?" said I, impatiently. I was as eager to hear it as he had beento read it. I believed that the mystery was about to be solved.
"'James Osborne, Sir: I have been thinking the matter over seriously,and have come to the conclusion that there may have been a mistake.Undoubtedly my groom was primarily to blame. I have discharged him forneglecting his post of duty. I distinctly recall the manner in whichyou handled the horses last night. It may be possible that they ranaway with you. However that may be, I find myself in need of a groom.Your horsemanship saved us from a serious accident. If you will promiseto let whisky alone, besides bringing me a recommendation, and arewithout engagement, call at the inclosed address this afternoon atthree o'clock. I should be willing to pay as much as forty dollars amonth. You would be expected to accompany me on my morning rides.'"
"She must have paid the fine," said I. "Well, it beats anything I everheard of. Had you arrested, and now wants to employ you! What name didyou say?" I asked carelessly.
"I didn't say any name, Chuck,"--smiling. "And I'm not going to giveany, you old duffer."
"And why not?"
"For the one and simple reason that I am going to accept theposition,"--with a coolness that staggered me.
"What?" I bawled.
"Sure as life, as the policeman said last night."
"You silly ass, you! Do you want to make the family a laughing-stockall over town?" I was really angry.
"Neither the family nor the town will know anything aboutit,"--imperturbably.
"But you will be recognized!" I remonstrated. "It's a clear case ofinsanity, after what has just happened to you."
"I promise not to drink any whisky,"--soberly.
"Bob, you are fooling me."
"Not the littlest bit, Chuck. I've worn a beard for two years. No onewould recognize me. Besides, being a groom, no one would pay anyparticular attention to me. Get the point?"
"But what under the sun is your object?" I demanded. "There's somethingback of all this. It's not a simple lark like last night's."
"Perspicacious man!"--railingly. "Possibly you may be right. Chuck, youknow that I've just got to be doing something. I've been inactive toolong. I am ashamed to say that I should tire of the house in a week orless. Change, change, of air, of place, of occupation; change--I musthave it. It's food and drink."
"You've met this woman before, somewhere."
"I neither acknowledge nor deny. It will be very novel. I shall be busyfrom morning till night. Think of the fun of meeting persons whom youknow, but who do not know you. I wouldn't give up this chance for anyamount of money."
"Forty Dollars a month," said I, wrathfully.
"Cigar money,"--tranquilly.
"Look here, Bob; be reasonable. You can't go about as a groom inWashington. If the newspapers ever get hold of it, you would bedisgraced. They wouldn't take you as a clerk in a third-rate consulate.Supposing you should run into Jack or his wife or Nancy; do you thinkthey wouldn't know you at once?"
"I'll take the risk. I'd deny that I knew them; they'd tumble and leaveme alone. Chuck, I've got to do this. Some day you'll understand."
"But the woman's name, Bob; only her name."
"Oh, yes! And have you slide around and show me up within twenty-fourhours. No, I thank you. I am determined on this. You ought to know meby this time. I never back down; it isn't in the blood. And when all issaid, where's the harm in this escapade? I can see none. It may notlast the day through."
"I trust not,"--savagely.
"I am determined upon answering this letter in person and finding out,if possible, what induced her to pay my fine. Jackass or not, I'm goingto see the thing through." Then he stretched an appealing hand outtoward me, and said wheedlingly: "Chuck, give me your word to keepperfectly quiet. I'll drop you a line once in a while, just to let youknow how I stand. I shall be at the house to-night. I'll find anexcuse. I'm to go up North on a hunting expedition; a hurry call. Doyou catch on?"
"I shall never be able to look Nancy in the face," I declared. "
Come,Bob; forget it. It sounds merry enough, but my word for it, you'llregret it inside of twenty-four hours. You are a graduate of theproudest military school in the world, and you are going to make agroom of yourself!"
"I've already done that and been locked up overnight. You are wastingyour breath, Chuck."
"Well, hang you for a jackass, sure enough! I promise; but if you getinto any such scrape as this, you needn't send for me. I refuse to helpyou again."
"I can't exactly see that you did. Let's get out. Got a cigar in yourpocket? I am positively dying for a smoke."
Suddenly a brilliant idea came to me.
"Did you know that Miss Annesley, the girl you saw on shipboard, is inWashington and was at the embassy last night?"
"No! You don't say!" He was too clever for me. "When I get through withthis exploit, Nancy'll have to introduce me. Did you see her?"
"Yes, and talked to her. You see what you missed by not going lastnight."
"Yes, I missed a good night's rest and a cold bath in the morning."
"Where shall I say you were last night?" I asked presently.
Mister James scratched his chin disconcertedly. "I hadn't thought ofthat. Say that I met some of the boys and got mixed up in a little gameof poker."
"You left your hat on the rack and your cane in the stand. You aresupposed to have left the house without any hat."
"Hat!" He jumped up from the cot on which he had been sitting andpicked up the groom's tile. "Didn't you bring me a hat?"--dismayed.
"You said nothing about it,"--and I roared with laughter.
"How shall I get out of here? I can't wear this thing through thestreets."
"I've a mind to make you wear it. And, by Jove, you shall! You'll wearit to the hatter's, or stay here. That's final. I never back down,either."
"I'll wear it; only, mark me, I'll get even with you. I always did."
"_I_ am not a boy any longer,"--with an inflection on the personalpronoun. "Well, to continue about that excuse. You left the housewithout a hat, and you met the boys and played poker all night. Thathitches wonderfully. You didn't feel well enough to go to the embassy,but you could go and play poker. That sounds as if you cared a lot foryour sister. And you wanted to stay at home the first night, becauseyou had almost forgotten how the inside of a private dwelling looked.Very good; very coherent."
"Cut it, Chuck. What the deuce excuse _can_ I give?"--worriedlylighting the cigar I had given him.
"My boy, I'm not making up your excuses; you'll have to invent those.I'll be silent, but I refuse to lie to Nancy on your account. Poker isthe only excuse that would carry any weight with it. You will have tolet them believe you're a heartless wretch; which you are, if youpersist in this idiotic exploit."
"You don't understand, Chuck. I wish I could tell you; honestly, I do.The girls will have to think mean things of me till the farce is over.I couldn't escape if I wanted to."
"Is it Miss Annesley, Bob? Was it she whom you ran away with? Come,make a clean breast of it. If it's she, why, that altogether alters theface of things."
He walked the length of the cell and returned. "I give up. You've hitit. You understand now. I simply can't back away; I couldn't if Itried."
"Are you in love with the girl?"
"That's just what I want to find out, Chuck. I'm not sure. I've beenthinking of her night and day. I never had any affair; I don't knowwhat love is. But if it's shaking in your boots at the sound of hername, if it's getting red in the face when you only just think of her,if it's having a wild desire to pick her up and run away with her whenyou see her, then I've got it. When she stepped out of that confoundedcarriage last night, you could have knocked me over with a paper-wad.Come, let's go out. Hang the hat! Let them all laugh if they will. It'sonly a couple of blocks to the hatter's."
He bravely put the white hat on his head, and together we marched outof the police-office into the street. We entered the nearest hatter'stogether. He took what they call a drop-kick out of the hat, sending itfar to the rear of the establishment. I purchased a suitable derby forhim, gave him ten dollars for emergencies, and we parted.
He proceeded to a telegraph office and sent a despatch to a friend upNorth, asking him to telegraph him to come at once, taking his chancesof getting a reply. After this he boarded a north-going car, and wasrolled out to Chevy Chase. He had no difficulty in finding the house ofwhich he was in search. It was a fine example of colonial architecture,well back from the road, and fields beyond it. It was of red brick andwhite stone, with a wide veranda supported by great white pillars.There was a modern portico at one side. A fine lawn surrounded thewhole, and white-pebble walks wound in and out. All around were thicklywooded hills, gashed here and there by the familiar yet peculiar redclay of the country. Warburton walked up the driveway and knockeddeliberately at the servants' door, which was presently opened. (Ilearned all these things afterward, which accounts for my accurateknowledge of events.)
"Please inform Miss Annesley that Mr. Osborne has come in reply to herletter," he said to the little black-eyed French maid.
"Ees Meestaire Osborrrrne zee new groom?"
"Yes."
"I go thees minute!" _Hein!_ what a fine-looking young man to make eyesat on cold nights in the kitchen!
Warburton sat down and twirled his hat. Several times he repressed thedesire to laugh. He gazed curiously about him. From where he sat hecould see into the kitchen. The French chef was hanging up his polishedpans in a glistening row back of the range, and he was humming a little_chanson_ which Warburton had often heard in the restaurants of theprovincial cities of France. He even found himself catching up therefrain where the chef left off. Presently he heard footsteps soundingon the hardwood floor, which announced that the maid was returning withher mistress.
He stood up, rested first on one foot, then on the other, and awkwardlyshifted his new hat from one hand to the other, then suddenly put thehat under his arm, recollecting that the label was not such as servantswore inside their hats.
There was something disquieting in those magnetic sapphire eyes lookingso serenely into his.