CHAPTER XIII
THE DESERTER
Bruce was incensed at the cool manner in which Katherine had takenleave of him without so much as hinting at her purpose. In offeringher aid and telling her his plans he had made certain advances. Shehad responded to these overtures by telling nothing. He felt he hadbeen snubbed, and he resented such treatment all the more from a womantoward whom he had somewhat relaxed his dignity and his principles.
As he sat alone on his porch that night he breathed out along with hissmoke an accompanying fire of profanity; but for all his wrath, hecould not keep the questions from arising. Why had she gone? What wasshe going to do? Was she coming back? Had she given up her father'scase, and had she been silent to him that afternoon about her goingfor the simple reason that she had been ashamed to acknowledge herretreat?
He waited impatiently for the return of his uncle, who had been absentthat evening from supper. He thought that Hosie might answer thesequestions since he knew the old man to be on friendly terms withKatherine. But when Old Hosie did shuffle up the gravel walk, he wasalmost as much at a loss as his nephew. True, a note from Katherinehad been thrust under his door telling him she wished to talk with himthat afternoon; but he had spent the day looking at farms and had notfound the note till his return from the country half an hour before.
Bruce flung away his cigar in exasperation, and the dry nightair was vibrant with half-whispered but perfervid curses. She wasirritating, erratic, irrational, irresponsible--preposterous, simplypreposterous--damn that kind of women anyhow! They pretended to be alot, but there wasn't a damned thing to them!
But he could not subdue his curiosity, though he fervently informedhimself of the thousand and one kinds of an unblessed fool he was forbothering his head about her. Nor could he banish her image. Herfigure kept rising before him out of the hot, dusty blackness: as shehad appeared before the jury yesterday, slender, spirited,clever--yes, she had spoken cleverly, he would admit that; as she hadappeared in her parlour that afternoon, a graceful, courteous,self-possessed home person; as he had seen her in Mr. Huggins's oldsurrey, with her exasperating, non-committal, cool little nod. Butwhy, oh, why, in the name of the flaming rendezvous of lost andsizzling souls couldn't a woman with her qualities also have just onegrain--only one single little grain!--of the commonest common-sense?
The next morning Bruce sent young Harper to inquire from Doctor Westin the jail, and after that from Katherine's aunt, why Katherine hadgone to New York, whether she had abandoned the case, and whether shehad gone for good. But if these old people knew anything, they did nottell it to Billy Harper.
Westville buzzed over Katherine's disappearance. The piazzas, thesoda-water fountains, the dry goods counters, the Ladies' Aid, were atno loss for an explanation of her departure. She had lost hercase--she had discovered that she was a failure as a lawyer--she hadlearned what Westville thought of her--so what other course was opento her but to slip out of town as quietly as she could and return tothe place from which she had come?
The Women's Club in particular rejoiced at her withdrawal. Thank God,a pernicious example to the rising young womanhood of the town was atlast removed! Perhaps woman's righteous disapproval of Katherine had adeeper reason than was expressed--for what most self-searching persontruly knows the exact motives that prompt his actions? Perhaps, fardown within these righteously indignant bosoms, was unconsciously butpotently this question: if that type of woman succeeds and wins man'sapproval, then what is going to become of us who have been built uponman's former taste? At any rate, feminine Westville declared it ablessing that "that terrible thing" was gone.
Westville continued to buzz, but it soon had matters more worth itsbuzzing. Pressing the heels of one another there came two amazingsurprises. The city had taken for granted the nomination of Kennedyfor mayor, but the convention's second ballot declared Blake thenominee. Blake had given heed to Mr. Brown's advice and had decided totake no slightest risk; but to the people he let it be known that hehad accepted the nomination to help the city out of its water-workspredicament, and Westville, recognizing his personal sacrifice, rangwith applause of his public spirit. The respectable element lookedforward with self-congratulation to him as the next chief of thecity--for he would have an easy victory over any low politician whowould consent to be Blind Charlie's candidate.
Then, without warning, came Bruce's nomination, with a splendid listof lesser candidates, and upon a most progressive platform. Westvillegasped again. Then recovering from its amazement, it was inclined totake this nomination as a joke. But Bruce soon checked theirjocularity. That he was fighting for an apparently defunct causeseemed to make no difference to him. Perhaps Old Hosie had spoken morewisely than he had intended when he had once sarcastically remarkedthat Bruce was "a cross between a bulldog and Don Quixote." Certainlythe qualities of both strains were now in evidence. He spranginstantly into the campaign, and by the power and energy of hisspeeches and of his editorials in the _Express_, he fairly raised hisissue from the dead. Bruce did not have a show, declared thepeople--not the ghost of a show--but if he maintained the ferociousearnestness with which he was starting out, this certainly was goingto be the hottest campaign which Westville had seen since Blake hadoverthrown Blind Charlie Peck.
People recalled Katherine now and then to wonder what she was doingand how mortified she must feel over her fiasco, and to laughgood-naturedly or sarcastically at the pricked soap-bubble of herpretensions. But the newer and present excitement of the campaign wasforcing her into the comparative insignificance of all recedingphenomena--when, one late September Sunday morning, Westville, orthat select portion of Westville which attended the Wabash AvenueChurch, was astonished by the sight of Katherine West walking verycomposedly up the church's left aisle, looking in exceedingly goodhealth and particularly stunning in a tailor-made gown of rich browncorduroy.
She quietly entered a vacant pew and slipped to a position whichallowed her an unobstructed view of Doctor Sherman, and which allowedDoctor Sherman an equally unobstructed view of her. Worshippers whostared her way noticed that she seemed never to take her gaze from thefigure in the pulpit; and it was remarked, after the service was over,that though Doctor Sherman's discourses had been falling off oflate--poor man, his health was failing so!--to-day's was quite thepoorest sermon he had ever preached.
The service ended, Katherine went quietly out of the church, smilingand bowing to such as met her eyes, and leaving an active tongue inevery mouth behind her. So she had come back! Well, of all the nerve!Did you ever! Was she going to stay? What did she think she was goingto do? And so on all the way home, to where awaited the heavy Sundaydinner on which Westville gorged itself python-like--if it be notsacrilege to compare communicants with such heathen beasts--till theycould scarcely move; till, toward three o'clock, the church papersank down upon the distended stomachs of middle age, and there arosefrom all the easy chairs of Westville an unrehearsed and somewhatinarticulate, but very hearty, hymnal in praise of the bounty of theCreator.
At about the time Westville was starting up this chorus, Old HosieHollingsworth, in Katherine's parlour, deposited his rusty silk hatupon the square mahogany piano that had been Doctor West's weddinggift to his wife. The old lawyer lowered himself into a rocker,crossed his attenuated legs, and shook his head.
"Land sakes--I certainly was surprised to get your note!" he repeated."When did you get back?"
"Late last night."
He stared admiringly at her fresh young figure.
"I must say, you don't look much like a lawyer who has lost her firstcase and has sneaked out of town to hide her mortification!"
"Is that what people have been saying?" she smiled. "Well, I don'tfeel like one!"
"Then you haven't given up?"
"Given up?" She lifted her eyebrows. "I've just begun. It's still ahard case, perhaps a long case; but at last I have a start. And I havesome great plans. It was to ask your advice about these plans that Isent for you."
"M
y advice! Huh! I ain't ever been married--not even so much as once,"he commented dryly, "but I've been told by unfortunates that have thatit's the female way to do a thing and then ask whether she should doit or not."
"Now, don't be cynical!" laughed Katherine. "You know I tried toconsult you before I went away. But it still is not too late for youradvice. I'll put my plans before you, and if your masculine wisdom,whose superiority you have proved by keeping yourself unmarried, canshow me wherein I'm wrong, I'll change them or drop them altogether."
"Fire away," he said, half grumbling. "What are your plans?"
"They're on a rather big scale. First, I shall put a detective on thecase."
"That's all right, but don't you underestimate Harrison Blake," warnedOld Hosie. "Since you've come back Blake will be sure you're afterhim. He will be on his guard against you; he will expect you to use adetective; he will watch out for him, perhaps try to have his everymove shadowed. I suppose you never thought of that?" he demandedtriumphantly.
"Oh, yes I did," Katherine returned. "That's why I'm going to hire twodetectives."
The old man raised his eyebrows.
"Two detectives?"
"Yes. One for Mr. Blake to watch. One to do the real work."
"Oh!" It was an ejaculation of dawning comprehension.
"The first detective will be a mere blind; a decoy to engage Mr.Blake's attention. He must be a little obvious, rather blundering--sothat Mr. Blake can't miss him. He will know nothing about my realscheme at all. While Mr. Blake's attention and suspicion are fixed onthe first man, the second man, who is to be a real detective with realbrains in his head, will get in the real work."
"Splendid! Splendid!" cried Old Hosie, looking at herenthusiastically. "And yet that pup of a nephew of mine sniffs out,'Her a lawyer? Nothing! She's only a woman!'"
Katherine flushed. "That's what I want Mr. Blake to think."
"To underestimate you--yes, I see. Have you got your first man?"
"No. I thought you might help me find him, for a local man, or a stateman, will be best; it will be easiest for him to be found out to be adetective."
"I've got just the article for you," cried Old Hosie. "You know ElijahStone?"
"No. But, of course, I've seen him."
"He's Westville's best and only. He thinks he's something terrible asa detective--what you might call a hyper-super-ultra detective.Detective sticks out big all over him--like a sort of universal mumps.He never looks except when he looks cautiously out of the corner ofhis eye; he walks on his tiptoes; he talks in whispers; he simplyoozes mystery. Fat head?--why, Lige Stone wears his hat on a can oflard!"
"Come, I'm not engaging a low comedian for a comic opera."
"Oh, he's not so bad as I said. He's really got a reputation. He'sjust the kind of a detective that an inexperienced girl might pick up.Blake will soon find out you've hired him, he'll believe it a bonafide arrangement on your part, and will have a lot of quiet laughs atyour simplicity. God made Lige especially for you."
"All right. I'll see him to-morrow."
"Have you thought about the other detective?"
"Yes. One reason I went to New York was to try to get a particularperson--Mr. Manning, with whom I've worked on some cases for theMunicipal League. He has six children, and is very much in love withhis wife. The last thing he looks like is a detective. He might passfor a superintendent of a store, or a broker. But he's very, verycompetent and clever, and is always master of himself."
"And you got him?"
"Yes. But he can't come for a couple of weeks. He is finishing up acase for the Municipal League."
"How are you going to use him?"
"I don't just know yet. Perhaps I can fit him into a second scheme ofmine. You've heard of Mr. Seymour, of Seymour & Burnett?"
"The big bankers and brokers?"
"Yes. I knew Elinor Seymour at Vassar, and I visited her severaltimes; and as Mr. Seymour is president of the Municipal League,altogether I saw him quite a great deal. I don't mean to be conceited,but I really believe Mr. Seymour has a lot of confidence in me."
"That's a fine compliment to his sense," Old Hosie put in.
"He's about the most decent of the big capitalists," she went on. "Hewas my second reason for going to New York. When I got there he hadjust left to spend a week-end in Paris, or something of the sort. Ihad to wait till he came back; that's why I was gone so long. I wentto him with a plain business proposition. I gave him a hint of thesituation out here, told him there was a chance the water-works mightbe sold, and asked authority to buy the system in for him."
"And how did he take it?" Old Hosie asked eagerly.
"You behold in me an accredited agent of Seymour & Burnett. I don'tknow yet how I shall use that authority, but if I can't do anythingbetter, and if the worst comes to the very worst, I'll buy in theplant, defeat Mr. Blake, and see that the city gets something like afair price for its property."
Old Hosie stared at her in open admiration. "Well, if you don't beatthe band!" he exclaimed.
"In the meantime, I shall busy myself with trying to get my father'scase appealed. But that is really only a blind; behind that I shallevery minute be watching Mr. Blake. Now, what do you think of myplans? You know I called you in for your advice."
"Advice! You need advice about as much as an angel needs a hat pin!"
"But I'm willing to change my plans if you have any suggestions."
"I was a conceited old idiot when I was a little sore awhile agobecause you had called me in for my opinion after you had settledeverything. Go right ahead. It's fine. Fine, I tell you!" He chuckled."And to think that Harrison Blake thinks he's bucking up against onlya woman. Just a simple, inexperienced, dear, bustling, blunderingwoman! What a jar he's got coming to him!"
"We mustn't be too hopeful," warned Katherine. "There's a long, hardfight ahead. Perhaps my plan may not work out. And remember that,after all, I am only a woman."
"But if you do win!" His old eyes glowed excitedly. "Your fathercleared, the idol of the town upset, the water-works saved--think whata noise all that will make!"
A new thought slowly dawned into his face. "H'm--this old town hasn'tbeen, well, exactly hospitable to you; has laughed at you--sneered atyou--given you the cold shoulder."
"Has it? What do I care!"
"It would be sort of nice, now wouldn't it," he continued slowly,keenly, with his subdued excitement, "sort of heaping coals of fire onWestville's roofs, if the town, after having cut you dead, should findthat it had been saved by you. I suppose you've never thought of thataspect of the case--eh? I suppose it has never occurred to you that insaving your father you'll also save the town?"
She flushed--and smiled a little.
"Oh, so we've already thought of that, have we. I see I can't suggestanything new to you. Let the old town jeer all it wants to now, we'llshow 'em in the end!--is that it?"
She smiled again, but did not answer him.
"Now you'll excuse me, won't you, for I promised to call on fatherthis afternoon?"
"Certainly." He rose. "How is your father--or haven't you seen himyet?"
"I called at the jail first thing this morning. He's very cheerful."
"That's good. Well, good-by."
Old Hosie was reaching for his hat, but just then a firm step soundedon the porch and there was a ring of the bell. Katherine crossed theparlour and swung open the screen. Standing without the door wasBruce, a challenging, defiant look upon his face.
"Why, Mr. Bruce," she exclaimed, smiling pleasantly. "Won't you pleasecome in?"
"Thank you," he said shortly.
He bowed and entered, but stopped short at sight of his uncle.
"Hello! You here?"
"Just to give an off-hand opinion, I should say I am." Old Hosiesmiled sweetly, put his hat back upon the piano and sank into hischair. "I just dropped in to tell Miss Katherine some of those veryclever and cutting things you've said to me about the idea of a womanbeing a lawyer. I've been expostulatin
g with her--trying to show herthe error of her ways--trying to prove to her that she wasn't reallyclever and didn't have the first qualification for law."
"You please let me speak for myself!" retorted Bruce. "How long areyou going to stay here?"
Old Hosie recrossed his long legs and settled back with the air of therock of ages.
"Why, I was expecting Miss Katherine was going to invite me to stay tosupper."
"Well, I guess you won't. You please remember this is your month tolook after Jim. Now you trot along home and see that he don't fry thesteak to a shingle the way you let him do it last night."
"Last night I was reading your editorial on the prospects of thecorn crop and I got so worked up as to how it was coming out thatI forgot all about that wooden-headed nigger. I tell you, Arn, thateditorial was one of the most exciting, stirring, nerve-racking,hair-breadth----"
"Come, get along with you!" Bruce interrupted impatiently. "I want totalk some business with Miss West!"
Old Hosie rose.
"You see how he treats me," he said plaintively to Katherine. "Ihaven't had one kind word from that young pup since, when he was inhigh-school, he got so stuck on himself because he imagined every girlin town was in love with him."
Bruce took Old Hosie's silk hat from the piano and held it out to him.
"You certainly won't get a kind word from me to-night if that steak isburnt!"
Katherine followed Hosie out upon the porch.
"He's a great boy," whispered the old man proudly--"if only I canlick his infernal conceit out of him!" He gripped her hand. "Good-by,and luck with you!"
She watched the bent, spare figure down the walk, then went in toBruce. The editor was standing stiffly in the middle of the parlour.
"I trust that my call is not inopportune?"
"I'm glad to see you, but it does so happen that I promised father tocall at five o'clock. And it's now twenty minutes to."
"Perhaps you will allow me to walk there with you?"
"But wouldn't that be, ah--a little dangerous?"
"Dangerous?"
"Yes. Perhaps you forget that Westville disapproves of me. It mightnot be a very politic thing for a candidate for mayor to be seen uponthe street with so unpopular a person. It might cost votes, you know."
He flushed.
"If the people in this town don't like what I do, they can vote forHarrison Blake!" He swung open the door. "If you want to get there ontime, we must start at once."
Two minutes later they were out in the street together. People whomthey passed paused and stared back at them; groups of young men andwomen, courting collectively on front lawns, ceased their flirtatiouschaffing and their bombardments with handfuls of loose grass, andnudged one another and sat with eyes fixed on the passing pair; andmany a solid burgher, out on his piazza, waking from his devotionaland digestive nap, blinked his eyes unbelievingly at the sight of acandidate for mayor walking along the street with that discreditedlady lawyer who had fled the town in chagrin after losing her firstcase.
At the start Katherine kept the conversation upon Bruce's candidacy.He told her that matters were going even better than he had hoped; andinformed her, with an air of triumph he did not try to conceal, thatBlind Charlie Peck had been giving him an absolutely free rein, andthat he was more than ever convinced that he had correctly judged thatpolitician's motives. Katherine meekly accepted this implicit rebukeof her presumption, and congratulated him upon the vindication of hisjudgment.
"But I came to you to talk about your affairs, not mine," he said asthey turned into Main Street. "I half thought, when you left, that youhad gone for good. But your coming back proves you haven't given up.May I ask what your plans are, and how they are developing?"
Her eyes dropped to the sidewalk, and she seemed to be embarrassed forwords. It was not wholly his fault that he interpreted her ascrest-fallen, for Katherine was not lacking in the wiles of Eve.
"Your plans have not been prospering very well, then?" he asked, aftera pause.
"Oh, don't think that; I still have hopes," she answered hurriedly. "Iam going to keep right on at the case--keep at it hard."
"Were you successful in what you went to New York for?"
"I can't tell yet. It's too early. But I hope something will come ofit."
He tried to get a glimpse of her face, but she kept it fixed upon theground--to hide her discomfiture, he thought.
"Now listen to me," he said kindly, with the kindness of the superiormind. "Here's what I came to tell you, and I hope you won't take itamiss. I admire you for the way you took your father's case when noother lawyer would touch it. You have done your best. But now, Ijudge, you are at a standstill. At this particular moment it is highlyimperative that the case go forward with highest speed. You understandme?"
"I think I do," she said meekly. "You mean that a man could do muchbetter with the case than a woman?"
"Frankly, yes--still meaning no offense to you. You see how much hangsupon your father's case besides his own honour. There is theelection, the whole future of the city. You see we are really facing acrisis. We have got to have quick action. In this crisis, being in thedark as to what you were doing, and feeling a personal responsibilityin the matter, I have presumed to hint at the outlines of the case toa lawyer friend of mine in Indianapolis; and I have engaged him,subject to your approval, to take charge of the matter."
"Of course," said Katherine, her eyes still upon the sidewalk, "thisman lawyer would expect to be the chief counsel?"
"Being older, and more experienced----"
"And being a man," Katherine softly supplied.
"He of course would expect to have full charge--naturally," Bruceconcluded.
"Naturally," echoed Katherine.
"Of course you would agree to that?"
"I was just trying to think what a man would do," she saidmeditatively, in the same soft tone. "But I suppose a man, after hehad taken a case when no one else would take it, when it washopeless--after he had spent months upon it, made himself unpopular byrepresenting an unpopular cause, and finally worked out a line ofdefense that, when the evidence is gained, will not only clear hisclient but astound the city--after he had triumph and reputationalmost within his grasp, I suppose a man would be quite willing tostep down and out and hand over the glory to a newcomer."
He looked at her sharply. But her face, or what he saw of it, showedno dissembling.
"But you are not stating the matter fairly," he said. "You shouldconsider the fact that you are at the end of your rope!"
"Yes, I suppose I should consider that," she said slowly.
They were passing the Court House now. He tried to study her face, butit continued bent upon the sidewalk, as if in thought. They reachedthe jail, and she mounted the first step.
"Well, what do you say?" he asked.
She slowly raised her eyes and looked down on him guilelessly.
"You've been most thoughtful and kind--but if it's just the same toyou, I'd like to keep on with the case a little longer alone."
"What!" he ejaculated. He stared at her. "I don't know what to make ofyou!" he cried in exasperation.
"Oh, yes you do," she assured him sweetly, "for you've been trying tomake very little of me."
"Eh! See here, I half believe you don't want my aid!" he blurted out.
Standing there above him, smiling down upon him, she could hardlyresist telling him the truth--that sooner would she allow her righthand to be burnt off than to accept aid from a man who had flauntedand jeered at her lawyership--that it was her changeless determinationnot to tell him one single word about her plans--that it was herpurpose to go silently ahead and let her success, should she succeed,be her reply to his unbelief. But she checked the impulse to fling thetruth in his face--and instead continued to smile inscrutably downupon him.
"I hope that you will do all for my father, for the city, for your ownelection, that you can," she said. "All I ask is that for the presentI be allowed to handle the ca
se by myself."
The Court House tower tolled five. She held out to him a gloved hand.
"Good-by. I'm sorry I can't invite you in," she said lightly, andturned away.
He watched the slender figure go up the steps and into the jail, thenturned and walked down the street--exasperated, puzzled, in profoundthought.