CHAPTER XVIII
THE SILENT MAN
Even the Major smiled benignantly when he reached his appointed roomin the magnificent Hotel del Coronado, which is famed throughout theworld.
"This," said he, "reminds me of New York; and it's the first thingthat has, since I left home."
"Why, Daddy, it isn't like New York at all," protested Patsy, standingbeside him at the broad window overlooking the ocean. "Did you eversee a palm tree waving in New York; or daisy bushes as tall as a man;or such masses of roses and flowering vines? And then just notice themountains over there--they're in Mexico, I'm told--and this greatheadland in the other direction; it's called Point Loma. Oh, I neverimagined any place could be so beautiful!"
The others were equally excited, and Uncle John said, smiling broadly:
"Well, we're here at last, my dears, and I'm sure we are already wellpaid for our trip across the continent. What pleasant rooms these are.If the hotel table is at all to be compared with the house itself weshall have a happy time here, which means we will stay as long aspossible."
But the table was another surprise, for the meals were equal to anyserved in the great Eastern metropolis. Uncle John complimented thelandlord, a cheery faced, fat little man who had at one time manageda famous New York hotel and had brought his talents and experience tofar California.
"I'm sorry," said this gentle boniface, "that I could not reservebetter rooms for you--for there are some choice views from somelocations. I had a corner suite saved for your party, a suite Iconsider the most desirable in the hotel; but an eccentric individualarrived yesterday who demanded the entire suite, and I had to let himhave it. He will not stay long, and as soon as he goes you shall havethe rooms."
"Who is he?" asked Uncle John.
"A rich miner; a most melancholy and peculiar person, by the way,"replied landlord Ross. "I believe his name is Jones."
Mr. Merrick started.
"Jones, and a miner?" he said. "What's his other name--Anson?"
"We'll look and see," replied Mr. Ross, turning to the hotel register."No; not Anson. He is registered as C.B. Jones, of Boston."
"Oh; that's not the Jones at all," said Uncle John, disappointed.
"It's the Jones who is our guest," replied the landlord, smiling.
Meantime the three girls had gone for a walk along the coast. Thebeach is beautiful at Coronado. There is a high sea wall of rock, andthe path runs along its edge almost the length of the promontory. Therocks are sloping, however, and it is not very difficult to climb downthem to where the waves break against the wall.
Near the hotel they met straggling groups, strolling in eitherdirection, but half a mile away the promenade was practicallydeserted. It was beginning to grow dark, and Beth said, regretfully:
"We must get back, girls, and dress for dinner--an unusual luxury,isn't it? Our trunks arrived at the hotel two weeks ago, and are nowin our rooms, doubtless, awaiting us to unpack them."
"Don't let's return just yet," begged Myrtle. "I want to see the sunset."
"It will be gorgeous," said Patsy, glancing at the sky; "but we cansee it from our windows, and as we're a long way from the hotel now Ibelieve Beth's suggestion is wise."
So they began to retrace their steps. Myrtle still walked with somedifficulty, and they had not proceeded far when Beth exclaimed:
"Look at that man down there!"
Her companions followed her direction and saw standing upon a hugepile of rocks at the water's edge a slight, solitary figure. Somethingin the poise, as he leaned forward staring at the darkened waves--forthe sun was low and cast shadows aslant the water--struck Myrtle asfamiliar.
"Oh, girls!" she exclaimed; "it's the Grand Canyon man."
"Why, I believe it is," agreed Patsy. "What is he doing?"
"Nothing," said Beth, briefly. "But he is going to do something, Ithink."
While they stared at him from their elevation the man straightened aninstant and cast a hasty glance to either side. The place seemed tohim deserted, for he failed to observe the group of three intentlywatching his motions from the high bank overhead. Next moment heturned back to the water and leaned over the edge of rock again.
"Don't!" cried Myrtle, her clear voice ringing over the lap of thewaves; "please don't!"
He swung around and turned his gaunt features upward to where theyoung girl leaned upon her crutches, with clasped hands and a look ofdistress upon her sweet face.
"Don't!" she repeated, pleadingly.
He passed his hand over his eyes with a very weary gesture and lookedat Myrtle again--this time quite steadily. She was trembling in everylimb and her cheeks were white with fear.
Slowly--very slowly--the man turned and began to climb the rocks; notdirectly upward to where the girls stood, but diagonally, so as toreach the walk some distance ahead of them. They did not move until hehad gained the path and turned toward the hotel. Then they followedand kept him in sight until he reached the entrance to the court anddisappeared within.
"I wonder," said Patsy, as they made their way to their rooms,"whether he really was thinking of plunging into the ocean; or whetherthat time at the Grand Canyon he had a notion of jumping into thechasm."
"If so," added Beth, "Myrtle has saved his life twice. But she can'tbe always near to watch the man, and if he has suicidal intentions,he'll make an end of himself, sooner or later, without a doubt."
"Perhaps," said Myrtle, hesitatingly, "I am quite wrong, and thestrange man had no intention of doing himself an injury. But each timeI obeyed an impulse that compelled me to cry out; and afterward I havebeen much ashamed of my forwardness."
They did not see the melancholy man at dinner; but afterward, in thespacious lobby, they discovered him sitting in a far corner reading amagazine. He seemed intent on this occupation and paid no attention tothe life around him. The girls called Uncle John's attention to him,and Mr. Merrick at once recognized him as the same individual they hadmet at the Grand Canyon.
"But I am not especially pleased to encounter him again," he said witha slight frown; "for, if I remember aright, he acted very rudely toMyrtle and proved unsociable when I made overtures and spoke to him."
"I wonder who he is?" mused Patsy, watching the weary, haggardfeatures as his eyes slowly followed the lines of his magazine.
"I'll inquire and find out," replied her uncle.
The cherubic landlord was just then pacing up and down the lobby,pausing here and there to interchange a word with his guests. UncleJohn approached him and said:
"Can you tell me, Mr. Ross, who the gentleman is in the corner?"
The landlord looked around at the corner and smiled.
"That," said he, "is the gentleman we spoke of this afternoon--Mr.C.B. Jones--the man who usurped the rooms intended for you."
"Rooms?" repeated Uncle John. "Has he a large party, then?"
"He is alone; that is the queer part of it," returned the landlord."Nor has he much baggage. But he liked the suite--a parlor with fiverooms opening out of it--and insisted upon having them all, despitethe fact that it is one of the most expensive suites in the hotel. Isaid he was eccentric, did I not?"
"You were justified," said Mr. Merrick, thought fully. "Thank you,sir, for the information."
Even as he rejoined the girls, who were seated together upon a broaddivan, the man arose, laid down his magazine and came slowly downthe room, evidently headed for the elevator. But with a start herecognized the girl who had accosted him on the beach, and the otherswith her, and for an instant came to a full stop before the group, hissad eyes fixed intently upon Myrtle's face.
The situation was a bit awkward, and to relieve it Uncle John remarkedin his cheery voice:
"Well, Mr. Jones, we meet again, you see."
The man turned slowly and faced him; then bowed in a mechanical wayand proceeded to the elevator, into which he disappeared.
Naturally Uncle John was indignant.
"Confound the fellow!" he exclaimed. "He's worse
than a boor. Butperhaps his early education was neglected."
"Did you call him Mr. Jones, sir?" asked Myrtle in a voice thattrembled with excitement.
"Yes, my dear; but it is not your Uncle Anson. I've inquired abouthim. The Joneses are pretty thick, wherever you go; but I hope notmany are like this fellow."
"Something's wrong with him," declared Patsy. "He's had some sadbereavement--a great blow of some sort--and it has made him somber andmelancholy. He doesn't seem to know he acts rudely. You can tell bythe man's eyes that he is unhappy."
"His eyes have neither color nor expression," remarked Beth. "At hisbest, this Mr. Jones must have been an undesirable acquaintance."
"You can't be sure of that," returned Patsy; "and I'm positive mytheory is correct. More and more am I inclined to agree with Myrtlethat he is disgusted with life, and longs to end it."
"Let him, then," retorted Uncle John. "I'm sure such a person is of nouse to the world, and if he doesn't like himself he's better out ofit."
That kindly Mr. Merrick should give vent to such a heartless speechproved how much annoyed he had been by Mr. Jones' discourtesy.
"He might be reclaimed, and--and comforted," said Myrtle, softly."When I think of the happiness you have brought into my life, sir, Ilong to express my gratitude by making some one else happy."
"You're doing it, little one," he answered, pinching her cheek. "Ifwe've brought a bit of sunshine into your life we've reaped an amplereward in your companionship. But if you can find a way to comfortthat man Jones, and fetch him out of his dumps, you are certainly amore wonderful fairy than I've given you credit for."
Myrtle did not reply to this, although it pleased her. She presentlypleaded weariness and asked permission to return to her room. Bethand Patsy wanted to go into the great domed ballroom and watch thedancing; so Myrtle bade them good night and ascended by the elevatorto her floor.