DUSKIN
“Look here,” said Duskin, “you and I just haven’t understood each other, that was all. When we get time we’ll sit down and explain a lot of things. Until then we’ll have to take each other on trust. We’ve got a big job to do, and it will help a lot if we do teamwork. How about it? Are you willing to trust me that far?”
“I’m certainly willing to trust you entirely, and I’ll begin by asking you if there isn’t still time for you to catch that man you were to see? If you let me out here on the edge of the city where I can take a trolley back to the hotel, and you drive hard, couldn’t you perhaps get him yet? I can’t bear to think I’ve kept you from that appointment. If you would stop at a drugstore and telephone, say you had to help somebody out of trouble, wouldn’t he perhaps wait till you got there?”
“I shall not drop you off anywhere, be assured of that,” he said decidedly, “but if you don’t mind sitting in the car I might take the chance and drive around that way. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“It would relieve me greatly,” she said eagerly, “and won’t you telephone?”
“I will,” he said. “That’s a good suggestion.”
He pulled up in front of a little country drugstore.
“I’ll only be gone a minute, and you are all safe here in the bright light. Plenty of people around, if any of those crooks come hunting you.”
“I’m not afraid,” she smiled, “but I’d advise you to ask the druggist to let you wash your face before you go calling.”
He grinned.
“Thank you, I’ll do that also.”
She watched him go into the telephone booth and then disappear into the back of the store. But he was gone only a few minutes.
“It’s all right,” he said, jumping into the car. “He says he’ll wait till I get there. And I got the druggist to put some stuff on my cuts so I don’t look quite so disreputable. Now, if you don’t mind going fast, I promised him I’d be there in ten minutes.”
“I love to go fast.”
There was no chance to talk as the car thundered through the city streets, and Carol had time to sit back in the hard little seat and think how much pleasanter this ride was than the one she had taken an hour before in the expensive limousine.
They came to the house before the ten minutes were up, and Duskin left her in the car and sprang up the steps. She watched him as he stood there under the bright light of the front door, a splendid figure, even in his rough clothes and old panama hat. His trousers might be bagged at the knees perhaps, from too much kneeling down on the floor with all the pliers to pull up electric wires, but he had the ease and grace of one born to society. He could look his man in the eye and make him forget what he had on. And straightaway she began to wonder that she had not known it all along. And then again she said, “What a fool, what a terrible fool I have been! Was I always a fool? Will I always stay a fool? I have made a worse mistake every day I have been here. Perhaps I ought to go home!”
But strangely enough she suddenly realized that she did not want to go home. She wanted to stay and see the whole thing through.
He did not stay long, and he came back with a spring in his step.
“It’s all right,” he said, and he threw in the clutch. “That man’s a prince. I wish I’d gone to him before. He says he’ll see us through, and if anybody attempts to sidetrack our cars, and they don’t come through on the dot, we’re to phone him and he’ll give it personal attention. He says he knew my father in college. That’s what it is to have a father!”
“You’re sure he isn’t a relative of the mayor’s?” asked Carol meekly.
“Quite sure,” he laughed. “I’ve heard my mother speak of him. He’s all right. By the way, did you eat anything in that dump out there?”
“No,” said Carol with a shudder. “I was too frightened, and there was too much wine around. I didn’t want to eat. I kept thinking of your warning. You know it never entered my head that there was anything wrong with my taking dinner with those people, they had been so kind the night before, although I was bored to death with them. But they were so insistent I thought I ought to go.”
“Forget them,” said Duskin. “Let’s have a good time. I’m starved, aren’t you? Hot dogs and flapjacks are all right in their place but they don’t last forever. Let’s have a square meal.”
He took her to a quiet place where they could have a table in a secluded corner, and he ordered steak and Lyonnaise potatoes, new peas, lima beans, and corn, and they had a merry time eating it. Carol began to feel as if she had known Duskin always and wondered that she had ever misunderstood him.
“Now,” he said when they had finished a delectable ice cream disguised in whipped cream and fruit and had merrily divided the last piece of cake and eaten every crumb of it, “are you dead tired? How would you like to come over to the building and see the new automatic fire extinguisher? The boys were unpacking it when I left. It’s a very interesting piece of machinery. They’re going to install it tomorrow.”
“I’d love it,” said Carol. “How I wish I had accepted your offer to show me over the building tonight and called off that awful dinner. Then you wouldn’t have had all this trouble. Only—” she paused, and her cheeks grew rosy.
“Only what?” he asked, watching her with keen eyes.
“Well, we might not have understood—that is you—I—”
“You mean we might not have understood each other so well? You mean we might not have trusted each other, is that it?”
Her eyes met his, and she gave him a grave, sweet, “Yes.”
“Then I’m glad it happened,” he said and gave her one of his rare smiles.
“Then come,” he said. “We’ll begin your education in construction, although we won’t get far tonight now. It’s quarter to ten and you ought to get to resting pretty soon.”
“Oh, I’m not at all tired anymore,” declared Carol.
As she climbed back into the car she had a sense of relief and a feeling of protection about it. It was good to be protected and by a strong man like this one. How he had given her the sense that he was powerful, that he was around her like a wall! It was her high tension this evening of course. She had never felt that she wanted protection. She had always rather rejoiced in her independence.
They drove to the building and found Charlie and Roddy and their crews like so many boys with a new toy. They had unpacked the shining parts and were putting them together.
They did not look up when Duskin brought the girl up in the lift. They kept their eyes averted, and the man Charlie studied his beloved boss furtively. For some reason he saw Duskin had changed his tactics. Was the boss going to fall for that girl?
Yet the girl had changed her tactics, too. She no longer said insolent things to the boss. She asked him questions humbly like a little child. She exclaimed with pleasure over the perfect fittings and the rapidity with which they had done the work on the fixtures since her last trip to the upper floors. Was this just one more trick of a dirty little crook, or had she learned her onions? Charlie wasn’t sure, and he was taking no chances. But in everything he followed the lead of Duskin. What Duskin said went with him every time.
Duskin led the girl around the whole floor where she had arrived uninvited for her first interview with him. He showed her what had been done since the day before yesterday, explaining in detail what the first electricians had done, or rather left undone, which made it necessary to do a lot of the work over again. She heard about the whole dismissal of the first crew and how Duskin had taken the train for Chicago to hunt up his old gang of friends upon whom he knew he could depend. She gathered that there was some bond between them closer than between workmen and boss, closer even than friends, more like brothers who had suffered together and loved one another. And somehow the words she had overheard the night before about herself lost their sting. Perhaps they were justified in suspecting everyone until he was proved trustworthy.
To her astonishment the whistles
were blowing for midnight before they turned to go downstairs. The men said good night respectfully, and Charlie, in a manner more formal than he was wont to use toward Duskin, informed him that they would all be there when he came back.
“Do they never sleep?” asked Carol.
“Not if they think I’ll be awake,” he smiled. “We’ve got some work yet to do tonight and they won’t let me stay alone and do it.”
“Put me on the trolley then,” she pleaded. “You must not take any more time for me tonight. I feel condemned.”
But he would not leave her until he saw her to the door of the hotel.
The newsboys were crying the first edition of the morning paper as he helped her out of the car and walked with her to the door.
“All about the mayor’s trip to the Canadian Rockies!” yelled a little urchin in their ears.
“Ah,” said Duskin, turning sharply, “what have we here? Paper, kid!”
He bought one and they stepped within the entrance to look at it.
Duskin ran his finger down the columns of the front page.
“Ah, here we have it! Listen,” he said. “‘Mayor Schlessinger, with a couple of friends, started early yesterday morning for a fishing trip through the Canadian Rockies. He expects to be gone two or three weeks and will later be joined by his wife, his sister, and nephew who will travel through California with him.’ And so,” said Duskin, “the noble mayor has provided himself with an alibi. Rapid work. Early yesterday morning! Neat, that! But now perhaps we can get something done.”
When Carol got up to her room once more, she opened her Bible and read over thoughtfully that verse about the companionship of fools, and then she read on until she came to another startling verse. “Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? there is more hope of a fool than of him.” She bowed her head and gave a little moan of humiliation. How that Bible cut into one’s very soul! How it read one to the core! That was what she had been—wise in her own conceit! And if it had not been for Duskin, where would she be now? Oh, what a fool she had been! How could she ever learn wisdom?
Then, as if to answer her, a breath of air came in the open window and turned the pages, and her eyes fell on these words: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is understanding.” Turning with a look of surrender, she dropped upon her knees and prayed, “Oh Lord, teach me Thy wisdom! Help me to know Thee.”
And she had thought that Proverbs was impersonal!
Chapter 14
The work of straightening out Duskin’s office progressed rapidly. Carol was in her place at eight o’clock in the morning, clicking away busily at the typewriter, but she saw nothing of Duskin until half past eleven when he came in to telephone.
He flashed a smile at her and asked if she felt all right and then snapped a message into the telephone.
“There are a lot of letters waiting for your signature,” she said as he turned to go out.
“They’ll have to wait,” he said crisply. “This is an awful morning. I’m not sure I can keep my appointment with you this afternoon. I may have to run up to Chicago. Something’s gone wrong with a consignment of trim that was ordered two weeks ago. We’ve got to have it by Monday if I have to hire a truck and drive it down myself.”
He vanished, and she went on working. At two she went out to the hot dog shop, sat on a stool, and ate sausages and flapjacks, then came back to work. Some of the important letters she signed “Fawcett Construction Company per C. W. Berkley” and posted them. The big building was silent except for Bill shambling to the front door occasionally. But there was plenty to do so she went back to work again.
At five she laid aside the company papers and wrote a long letter to Mr. Fawcett, supplementing the various telegrams she had sent. She found herself speaking of the young construction engineer in the highest terms and paused to wonder how her perspective had changed in one evening.
At six Charlie presented himself, spotless as to attire, and announced that the boss asked him to come and take her to her hotel. The boss had found he had to go to Chicago.
Carol told Charlie it was wholly unnecessary for him to take her to the hotel, that she had a few more letters to write and would take a taxi back when she was through.
“That’s all right,” said Charlie. “I’ll wait in the hall till you’re ready.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said Carol, “but it really isn’t necessary. I’m used to going around alone.”
“It’s the boss’s orders,” said Charlie as if that settled it, and looking at the red-haired Scotchman, Carol seemed to see the same determination in the set lips and the firm chin that sat upon his friend and superior’s face.
Carol laughed.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to obey,” she said amusedly. “What time do you expect him back?”
“Can’t say,” said Charlie. “He left about ‘leven thirty. Took a big truck. He oughtta get there before six o’clock, maybe five. Don’t know how long it will take ‘em to load up. Might be back by midnight, might take till morning! ‘Cording if he don’t have engine trouble.”
“He didn’t go alone, did he?” she asked anxiously. “It’s much more important that he should be attended than that I should.”
The man Charlie flickered her a wise eye and nodded.
“He wanted to,” he admitted, “but we didn’t let him. Roddy and Ted went along. They each took a couppla guns also, but the boss wasn’t wise to it. He’s pretty good at taking care of himself, but we weren’t running any risks.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” said Carol, getting up and beginning to put on her hat. “But I’m wondering how he’s going to get his material. It’s Saturday afternoon. Will the place be open?”
“You bet it will! The boss got ‘em on the wire and told ‘em where to get off.” Charlie was warming to the lady boss. She seemed to be learning all her vegetables quickly.
“But ought we to leave the building alone, with just Bill?” enquired Carol as she slipped her papers into the desk and locked the drawers. “I know Mr. Duskin is rather particular about that.”
“Building’s all right,” asserted Charlie. “Pete and Sam and three of Roddy’s men are up top. They’re comin’ down and stick around while I’m gone, and we calculate to remain parked here all night.”
“That’s fine,” said Carol appreciatively. “Couldn’t I help, too? I’ll stay here now while you go out to dinner.”
“Thanks, awfully, but we got our orders. Dinner’s coming in relays tonight. Couple of us go out and bring back grub for the rest.”
“Well, I see we are all in good hands,” smiled Carol, following him down the steps to the old car and wondering at herself for so soon losing her feeling against these men who had called her a dirty little crook.
When Charlie left her at the hotel he announced, “The boss said he wished you’d stay where you are till he gets back. He didn’t have time to write you a note, so I said I’d tell ya. He said he might wanta call ya up, and it would save time.”
“I’ll stay,” she said, smiling. “Let me know if anything happens. You know I’m interested, and I’ll be glad to help in any way.”
Charlie grinned.
“You’re all right, little lady,” he said heartily. “I’ll do that little thing if we get in any jams. Don’t ferget to call up the job if anybody bothers you. We’re open fer business all night, ya know. So long!” and Charlie swung himself into the car and dashed noisily away.
Carol went out to the dining room with a sense of leisure that she had not felt since she left New York. A sense of loneliness also. All around here were people in festive attire going somewhere or doing something, and she was stranded in a hotel room. It was Saturday night and she might be having a good time.
But she had no desire to go out. She would rather be down at that big, silent building writing letters and putting careful records in the company books and straightening out the hopeless tangle of papers
that Duskin had allowed to accumulate. She wanted to be watching for the truck to arrive and to know if it got safely through. Last night at this time Duskin had been rescuing her and now he was perhaps in worse peril, and she could do nothing about it but stay in her room obeying his command.
She bought a sheaf of magazines and went up to her room after dinner, but she did not feel like reading. She wrote a long letter to her mother and another to Betty and racked her brains for things to say without telling the things she knew they would want to hear about, the very things they had warned her of. She worked it out by describing the grandeur of the hotel and the people she saw. She tried to make much of the construction of the great building, showing them what a really beautiful place it was going to be though none of it was quite finished. She spent some time in telling them how much nicer Mr. Duskin was than she had expected, and then she filled out the letter by suggesting a way to make a lovely fall dress for Betty just like the one she had seen in a shop window in the hotel. Her own old blue velvet evening dress would do for a blouse, and using Betty’s last year’s blue jersey that had a tear in the sleeve to make a stylish pleated skirt.
When the letters were mailed she tried to read again but failed to keep her mind on the story she had attempted, and at last she went to bed.
But bed was no place for her active brain. She throbbed all over with excitement. She got to thinking over in detail the events of the night before and suddenly out of the throng of memories came that voice in the dark calling, “Come, Carol!” Who had that been? It had not sounded like Paisley. It had not sounded like Schlessinger, nor even the drunken man, though he couldn’t of course have known her name. Who, then, had it been?
It had been a quiet voice, full of comfort and also command, like Duskin’s when he gave orders to his men.
Had Duskin called her Carol?
She sat right up in her bed, her cheeks growing hot at the thought.