CHAPTER XI
EXPRESSIONS OF THE FAMILY AND IMPRESSIONS OF THE PRESS
With that, all the strangeness of the day, all the feeling of moving inan unnatural world which had hung about me since the dawn, blew awaylike the shadow of smoke. It was a summer morning of breezes and coollights, garrulous with innumerable birds; and I was standing with myfeet upon solid earth, glad beyond measure for the knowledge that I wasa fool. The very idea of it had been absurd; and best of all, there werestill things to be done.
"God be thanked," said I to Lady.
She smiled down at me very sweetly. "So much as that? It doesn't soundas if you appreciated Walter, Mr. Crosby. I can easily imagine a worsehusband myself."
"I don't mean that," said I hastily. "At least--"
"At least you may as well come in to breakfast."
"I should say he might," Mr. Tabor cried behind her. "I have Sheilasafely stowed away, and now I must make sure of you."
I must have looked nearly as puzzled as I felt.
"You see, Mr. Crosby, I owe you an apology. You helped us out of a tightplace last night, and we are deeply in your debt; your coals of fire areupon all our heads."
"But--" I said, and hesitated.
"'But;' but that's what I say. I owe you an apology. We fired you outthe other night because we had to. We had something going on here thenwhich we did not care to have a stranger mixed up in. We had everyregard for you--but, after all, you were an outsider, and we simplycould not risk you. So we threw you out. You understand that I amspeaking to you now in confidence, and because I take you to be agallant gentleman. Neither can I explain. Of course, the explanation Idid give you was a sheer bit of bluff. I know nothing against youwhatever; but you forced me into saying something, and that was the mosteffective thing I could think of to say to a man of your kind. Believeme, I hated to do it. Will you shake hands?"
By that time I had got my breath again. "I will do more," I saidlaughingly. "I will congratulate you. You are one of the ablest and mostconvincingly finished--a--"
"Liars," he prompted.
"That I ever had the privilege of meeting," I concluded unblushingly.
Mr. Tabor clapped me on the shoulder. "Thank you. I am honored. We shallget along very well, I promise you. Lady, lead the way where breakfastwaits; this low fellow and I will follow."
So the three of us made a very comfortable meal. Mrs. Tabor was not attable, and I supposed her breakfasting in bed, if indeed she were awake;and Doctor Reid, it appeared, was yet busy with his patient. We told Mr.Tabor our adventure, turn and turn about, and I found myself listeningto Lady's warm praise of what she was pleased to call my resource, witha tingling at the heart-strings. When we had done, and Mr. Tabor hadlistened very carefully, he sat frowning before him for a while; and Ithought that he saw more in the recital than did we ourselves.
"Well," he said at last. "I suppose all's well that ends well; but I dohope that it has all ended. Are you quite sure, Mr. Crosby, that nobodygot a look at you or Lady or the car who would be likely to have mindenough to give the affair clearly to the newspapers?"
"I'm pretty sure of it, sir," I answered. "The only people who got agood look at anything were the little group of the usual slum roughs;and from their general air and the hour of the night, the probability isthat there wasn't one of them that was not pretty well befuddled."
"How about the police?"
"I didn't get a good look at the police myself; but I think that we weretoo fast for them. You see, Miss Tabor had the number off, and westarted with considerable speed. They may have a general idea of thecar, but I think that is about all."
"I wonder what Carucci will do?" mused Miss Tabor. "He looked ratherunpleasant on the sidewalk."
"He will have to say something," I said uneasily. "He couldn't havecareened around there very long without falling into the hands of thepolice; and they would certainly arrest him. They usually arresteverybody in sight when one person has got away and they don't knowquite what the trouble is."
Mr. Tabor nodded. "Yes, they doubtless have him safe behind the bars bynow; but I don't think that will hurt us any. Personally, I can imagineno place where I should rather have him, unless it were far upon orunder the deep blue sea."
"But, father dear, that is terrible. If they have him in jail, he willhave to talk, and he will be blamed for that poor wrecked room andeverything. He'll have to give some explanation to save himself; and hemust know that we are the only people that would be likely to come forSheila in an automobile."
"The Italian, my dear, is not that breed of man. We may be very glad foronce that he is an Italian. There is only about one thing in the worldthat a man of his race and class will not do--and that is, talk to thepolice. It is part of his faith not to. He will either invent someall-enfolding lie that tells nothing whatsoever, or else he will not saya word."
"But he must have struck her _with_ something," said Lady. "Suppose theyshould find _that_, father. He'd have to tell them to save himself."
I slipped my hand into my pocket. "I don't think they will find it,"said I, and showed the thing above the table. Lady shuddered, and Iquickly returned it to my pocket.
"Just what you would expect," said Mr. Tabor, "and if you had left it, Iam afraid Carucci would have had some difficulty in explaining things. Amarlinespike, isn't it? Poor Sheila was really very fortunate that hedidn't stab her with the sharp end. A stab would have been more in hisline--the beast. As it is, I don't believe the police will ever find outany of the truth of the matter."
"Well, even if they do," said I, "it won't do any great amount of harm.They might arrest me for speeding, but that would be about all. No onein his senses would be likely to accuse us of murder."
"My good young man," Mr. Tabor answered, "they absolutely mustn't dreamthat we had any hand in it at all. They mustn't even hear of us. Andneither must anybody else."
Lady sighed wearily. "I'm sure that it will be all right, father," shesaid.
"The chauffeur will be quiet for the sake of his own character," Iadded. "He's as anxious to avoid any connection with it as we are. Andas for me, sir, you may be sure that nothing shall leak out through anyindiscretion of mine."
Mr. Tabor pushed aside his finger-bowl. "I understand that, Mr.Crosby--and I appreciate how uncomfortable it must be for you to act inthe dark. Believe me, I regret very much the necessity for it, andappreciate your generosity."
Lady was looking at us, and I colored. "I'm very much at your service,Mr. Tabor," I said.
"You may perhaps wonder what this Italian has to do with us at all.That, at least, I can tell you. He was a sailor on one of my ships inyears past, and when the girls were--" He paused. "When Lady was alittle girl, you understand, we took quite a voyage for Mrs. Tabor'shealth. Sheila was Lady's nurse--and a very pretty slip of an Irish lassshe was. Naturally we took her along, and the rest is one of thosewhimsies of fate that you can never explain. This Carucci fell in lovewith her; what attracted _her_ was more than any one of us couldimagine, but at any rate she married him. Married him as soon as we gotback to New York. Well, after that things gradually went wrong. The mangot a taste for drink, which is unusual--the Italians aren't a drunkenpeople--and although I kept him on against my captain's advice forSheila's sake, in the end I had to let him go. From time to time, whenthere has been trouble, we have taken Sheila into our family to give thepoor woman some protection, though her loyalty makes it pretty hard todo much for her. Carucci, however, resents our interference, andpretends that we force her from him. He is becoming very troublesome."
Mr. Tabor had lighted a cigar, puffing it slowly throughout his story.He talked very easily; and I was ashamed of myself for wondering whetherhe was telling all the truth. Perhaps my encounter with him had made mesuspicious, but I could not forget that Doctor Reid had given Caruccimoney. I felt uncomfortable; and with the mental discomfort, I realizedthat I had been through a sleepless and violent night, and that I wasvery tired. I must have shown some shad
ow of this sudden weariness, forLady rose from her chair decidedly and stretched out her hand.
"Now you must go back to your room and get some sleep, Mr. Crosby. Youcan come back this evening if you like--we should have the eveningpapers by then, and we shall see how much notice has been taken of us."
"Oh, I'm all right," I protested.
"You are tired out," said Lady, "I know. I'm tired myself, and I--" shestopped, flushing.
Her father was looking at us with half a frown, and it was to him thatI turned. "Well, then, I'm off," said I, "but I'll be back to help youdissect the associated press."
I had not thought that I could sleep during the day, or even rest,except from worry. But the strain, and perhaps even more, the relief ofthe last twenty-four hours, must have relaxed me more than I knew; for Idid sleep soundly until late in the afternoon. When I returned to theTabors in the evening, Mrs. Tabor was still invisible; and the otherswere seated about the big lamp in the living-room, busy over a bale oflast editions. The floor was strewn with open sheets from which wildpictures and wilder words stared upward.
"Come in and be thrilled," was Lady's greeting. "You're an unknownslayer and a mysterious criminal. We seem to be sufficiently notorious,but thus far we remain unidentified."
"Outrageous, the tone of these things," growled her father. "I neverrealized it before. They haven't got our names, though."
As for Doctor Reid, his mind was so concentrated upon the matter in handthat he barely looked up for a mechanical salutation and plunged againinto the abyss of journalism.
"How is Mrs. Tabor?" I said, "and Mrs. Carucci--is she badly hurt?"
"Oh, mother's perfectly well. She was tired a little after sitting upfor us, and went to bed early, that's all. And Sheila is doingsplendidly."
Doctor Reid came abruptly to the surface. "Fine. Fine. Very rapidrecovery. Blow only glanced along the bone. No fracture, no concussion.Strong vitality, too. Astonishing what resistance those unhygienicpeople have. Soon be all over it."
"Look here," Lady broke in, "here's a bird's-eye view of the tenementhouse, with--no, it's an X-ray view, the walls are transparent. 'Arrowpoints to room in which Mrs. Carucci was discovered; cross markslocation of blood-stain; inner room with disordered bed; dotted lineshows how the body was carried down-stairs.' See, they've got littlepictures of us carrying her down, on each floor. And here's theautomobile starting away with me leaning out of the window."
"And vignettes of Carucci and the policeman, and a fancy sketch ofSheila," said I. "Like those early Italian paintings, where they havetwo or three successive scenes on one canvas."
"This is about the fullest account, too. It's pretty nearly all here,except who we are. 'Carucci is in custody.' Do you suppose theyinterviewed him?"
"I doubt it," said her father. "It was probably the tenants and the menin the street."
"Listen to this," put in Doctor Reid, with an indignant snort."Outrageous, the flippant way this sheet takes everything. Send a cleveryoung ignoramus to write up important surgical cases. Poke fun at everything. Listen:
"'Antonio Carucci is a true son of Neptune, born, as his name implies,under the shadow of Vesuvius. He goes down to the sea in ships; and,like all good mariners since old Noah himself, returns with a throatparched by many days of briny breezes. Last night, being new landed froma long cruise, Giuseppe sought solace in flowing flagons of Chianti,until, when he tacked through the breakers of River Street toward thebeacon light which his lass kept ever burning in her wifely window, hehad almost forgotten his own name amid the rosy aromas of his nationalpotation. Arrived at his domicil, Geronimo fell into a deep sleep, witha sinuous string of spaghetti clasped firmly in his corded hand; and ashe slept, he dreamed a dream,' Then it goes on to treat the whole affairas a hallucination, distorting or evading all the facts. Ridiculousaccount. Rubbish. Perfect rubbish."
"At least, it can do us no harm," said Mr. Tabor, while Lady and Iexchanged mirthful glances. "The more the whole affair is belittled, theless danger there is of any serious gossip or investigation. What Idon't like is this sort of thing." He crumpled a red and black pageacross his knee. "There is no substance in it, but it might stir uptrouble.
"'Last night the perpetrators of a brutal and mysterious crime escapedwithout a struggle.
"'They abducted a poor woman, a wife and mother, from her home. Theyleft behind them destruction and a red stain upon the threshold.
"'How did these wretches escape? Why were they not apprehended?
"'The answer is simple: They were rich.
"'A swift automobile awaited them. The police were powerless to stopthem as they sped away.
"'If a poor laboring man, crazed by sorrow, commits a crime, the utmostrigor of the law awaits him. He can not purchase a great machine tospeed his flight.
"'Neither can he purchase the machinery of justice, the skill ofeminent lawyers, the shifts and delays of appeal. He must pay thepenalty.
"'But the rich man pays only his myrmidons. The dastards who committedlast night's atrocity vanished behind a cloud of gold.
"'Shall we permit these things to be so? Shall we allow the wealthy toavoid those punishments which we impose upon the poor? _This means you._
"'They deem themselves already secure; but though they exhaust everydevice of plutocracy, they shall be brought to justice in the end.
"'We say to them, _We know you, and we will find you yet_.'"
"That sounds threatening," I said. "But, after all, isn't it just asempty as the rest? People read that same shriek three hundred andsixty-five days in the year, and nothing much ever happens. Do you thinkthere will actually be any extra search because of that?"
"I'm not so sure," Mr. Tabor answered. "It may not matter to the police,but the paper itself is quite capable of seeking us out. Indeed, I thinkwe are really most likely to have trouble, not from the authorities, butfrom reporters."
"That's it," Reid added. "You've put your finger on it. That's whatwe've got to look out for. Reporters."
"But what can they do?" asked Lady. "Suppose some reporter comes here;we won't tell him anything, and nobody else has anything to tell."
"My dear child, you haven't the slightest idea what a newspaperinvestigation means. If they once get a hint of who we are we shall havea dozen men and women here, questioning everybody in sight--theneighbors, the servants--trying in every possible way to get atsomething which can be made to look sensational, and printingconjectures if they can't find facts."
"Besides," said Doctor Reid, "the poking and prying would be just as badas the publicity. Let's look at the case: 'Tisn't that we're trying toconceal a specific fact; we're trying to avoid gossip, trying to avoidappearing in any way unusual, trying to seem like other people. We arelike other people, except--well, now, here's the situation. Threepoints: First, we mustn't be bothered by the police; secondly, wemustn't get into the papers; thirdly, we mustn't be investigated ortalked about."
"We're tolerably safe from the first," said I, "if Mr. Tabor is right."
"Good. Safe from the first. Then we'll pass right on to the next. Nowlet's see what the papers will try to do. Their whole purpose--"
The tiny tinkle of a bell rippled from overhead. Reid was on his feet ina flash and started for the door, Lady following. I had risen, too,startled at the tense faces of the rest.
"Don't you come, father dear," she said, turning for an instant in thedoorway. "It's probably only for Sheila. We'll call if we need you." Iheard their careful footsteps on the stairs.
Mr. Tabor had settled back into his chair, the paper lying on his knee,his head forward, and the muscles of his neck rigid with listening.Somehow in the sharp sidelong light he looked much older than I had seenhim: more conquerable, more marked by time and trial; and with thelistless hands and deep eyes of his night's unrest went a strange lookof being physically lighted and less virile than the formidable old manI had begun to know. And as the noiseless minutes went by I grewpresumptuously sorry for him.
A
fter a little he relaxed himself with an evident effort and turned tome with his careful smile.
"A family man gets very fussy, Mr. Crosby," he said. "You learn so manythings outside yourself to worry about."
"Hadn't I better go and leave you all free?" I asked. "It's gettingtime, anyway."
"I wish you'd stay," he growled, "it's easier to wait when there aretwo."
I sat down again and tried to talk; but neither of us could keep anymovement in the conversation. We fell into long silences, through whichthe weight of the silent anxiety above pressed down like a palpablething. At last Lady's voice called softly, and we rose.
"Don't tell me anything," I said, as I opened the front door, "but if Ican be of any earthly use, I will."
"Thank you, Mr. Crosby," he answered, shaking my hand slowly, "I knowthat."