.\ In wrA ; 48 8 A PROPHET S LANDING PROPHET S LANDING E mo\>el BY EDWIN ASA DIX AUTHOR OP "DEACON BRADBURY," "OLD BOWEN S LEGACY," ETC. NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 1907 Copyright, 1907, by EDWIN ASA Dix Published April, 1907 THE DE VINNE PRESS CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE i. THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 3 ii. THE LANDING 21 HI. ON THE POINT 31 rv. FOOTLIGHTS 39 v. BRANCHING OUT 55 vi. LOVE IN IDLENESS 67 vn. THE LAW OF CONTRACT 78 vin. NEW AND OLD ROADS 93 ix. LINKS AND CHAINS Ill x. BY THE GRAY RIVER 122 XL HALLOWE EN 135 xii. POISON IVY 148 xin. STRESS AND STORM 159 xiv. STOCKS IN TRADE 177 xv. HOME TRUTHS 196 xvi. THE GAGE OF BATTLE 206 XVII. "OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES " .... 216 xviii. THE PROPHET SPEAKS 229 xix. Two IN COUNCIL . < . , . 241 2227854 PROPHET S LANDING PROPHET S LANDING THE RIGOR OF THE GAME JOEL HARNEY S tall, erect figure always seemed taller and more erect when he was sitting on the high, revolving stool at the desk in his back office. This stool was his throne, his seat of power; from it he ruled his kingdom, the country store; and he unconsciously took on an added straightness and even stiffness when in this position of vantage. By contrast the figure of George Burroughs, in the low, leather-seated arm-chair facing him, looked old and bent. The two men were nearly of the same age, Mr. Burroughs being only a little the elder ; yet the difference in their bear ing told plainly of power and comparative suc cess in the one case, and of harder and less rewarded work in the other. "I ain t askin ye to give up the hull idee 4 PROPHET S LANDING of havin a shoe-department," said Mr. Bur roughs. "It comes to that," returned Mr. Harney. "Why, no, it don t, Joel," expostulated Mr. Burroughs eagerly. "There s room in the village for another shoe-place, likely enough, though I Ve allers had most of whatever trade there was. I don t say it s overmuch, for I have n t more n got a livin out of it. But still, it ain t for me to say that nobody else shall sell shoes in Prophet s Landin ." "Well, no, I don t see that it is, either, George," said Mr. Harney. "All I m askin is for ye not to cut under prices, as they say ye cal late to do." "That s asking more than I can promise." George Burroughs s thin, worn face grew very anxious. "I have n t heierd much about it all, till this mornin ," he said. "I stick to the shop pretty close, day an evenin , an so I don t git about much an hear the talk. But what someone told me to-day made me come straight to you. I knew that you an I c d talk things over, ef any two ol friends could." "Certainly we can, George," assented Mr. Harney. "I m glad you came over, of course. THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 5 "Tell me jest what your idee is," went on Mr. Burroughs. "Why, it s very simple. You know the store has been branching out a little, now and then." "Yes, I Ve sometimes said y r father would n t hardly know it f r the same plain ol country store that he allers had. New lines of fust one thing, then another, crockery, hardware, drygoods, hats, clo es, furniture, an I don know what all. New front, new paint, new extension, every year, somethin or other." "Well, yes, I Ve improved things a little, I judge," responded Mr. Harney, with satisfac tion. "Can t stand still in life, you know, George, leastwise, not in the Connecticut Val ley. Have to move forward, or we 11 move backward. "Mebbe so, mebbe so," said the other with a sigh. "P r aps I c d have done the same thing; though it ain t so easy with jest shoes an nothing else to start with; an besides, I guess I hain t got your business gumption, Joel." "Oh, I don t know that it s so much that. I see a chance to take a step ahead, once in a while, and I take it, that s all." 6 PROPHET S LANDING "Well, that s what gittin on means,- I s pose," commented Mr. Burroughs. " T ain t everybody s got the knack of it; an when a man s reelly got it, it s likely to come out. But about this shoe idee?" "Why, that s just adding another line of goods. It had to come, I suppose, with a store like mine. It s sort of come of itself." "How d ye mean!" "I mean, I was n t thinking of shoes, not yet awhile, anyway; slow and sure, you know, and we ve just added that lean-to for paints and oils. But this Boston firm of jobbers got at me, and they ve been keeping at me. Fi nally they made me a proposition I really could n t refuse." "My wholesalers are Finch, Duckworth & Co.," said Mr. Burroughs. "They ve allers treated me fair enough; I can t complain." "This is Ball & Brownson," Mr. Harney answered. "I don t mind your knowing, of course, George." "They re big jobbers," said the country shoe-dealer, a little enviously. They would n t think o takin notice of a little business like mine. "Well, of course they know I could handle a fairly large line, if I should go into it at all. THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 7 They know, too, that our firm is pretty prompt pay." "Yes, I guess you re a good customer, Joel," answered George Burroughs. "I can t gen rally buy but a case or so at a time, an I can t allers pay f r that in less n three months. It gives you a big holt. "I suppose it does. I don t see my way to losing the chance." "But, Joel, they say you re goin to cut under." "Why, yes," admitted Mr. Harney; "I m afraid that s likely." "Cuttin under s cuttin out. I s pose you reelize that." "I don t want to cut anyone out, George. Of course not. But " "But what?" There was a pause. Joel Harney s counte nance, on the street or in his home, was kindly enough in expression ; but in his place of busi ness it seemed to grow keener and harder. He swung a little way to the side on his high stool, then swung back again; but he said nothing. His thin lips, under the closely clipped, iron- gray mustache, were compressed with a certain inexorableness. "I git precious little profit now," went on 8 PROPHET S LANDING George Burroughs s troubled voice. I could n t cut my prices a cent an make any margin at all. Even as it is, ef it wa n t f r my makin a few custom shoes myself, an doin cobblin an repairin , as well as havin the store, I would n t git on." "I daresay that s so," assented the other. 11 There is n t much profit in any one line of goods nowadays, with the old-fashioned meth ods." "I hain t got the money f r new-fashioned ones," said Mr. Burroughs, a little bitterly. "It takes all I make jest to live an raise a family. There was another silence. "How much was ye meanin to undersell?" inquired the shoemaker at last. "I don t call it underselling," returned Mr. Harney, a little irritably. "I buy low, and so I can sell low ; that s all. That is, ye can buy lower, an so ye can sell lower. That about it?" "I am not basing the thing on what anybody else can do, at all. "But it comes to that, don t it?" "I don t know that it does." "Course it does, Joel. You take my three- dollar line. I pay Finch, Duckworth & Co., THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 9 say, fifty-two dollars a case, twenty-four pairs, assorted sizes. Freight to Wollaston an haul- in over here is about fifty-five cents more; mebbe fifty, ef it comes to Easthaven an is lightered here across the river. That leaves me about eighty cents profit on each pair. "That s a fair per cent." "I ain t complainin of that. But they say you re layin out to sell the same grade f r two-seventy-five. " Yes, I figured on about that, for a starter, anyway. I could even make it two-fifty, my self, and still almost find it worth while." "I can t," Joel Harney said nothing. "It jest means ruination to me, Joel," went on Mr. Burroughs, his voice trembling a little. "I hain t ever had to ask favors of any man; I Ve got along, thanks to hard work; an you can t think how tough it is to seem to be askin any favors now. An I ain t. I ain t tryin to keep ye out o the shoe business. It s open to one person as much as to another, I reckon. I m only askin ye to let me stay in." "Why, George," protested Mr. Harney, "I m not seeking to put you out." "Course you 11 git a good many customers that I Ve allers had, even ef ye sell at the same 10 PROPHET S LANDING prices. I ain t grudgin ye that. I can keep enough to git on with, I jedge. But, Joel, ef ye start to sellin cheaper than I can afford to, why, I won t keep any. That stands to reason." "I tell you, I m not figuring on either over selling or underselling you, George," declared Joel impatiently. "I find I can buy goods at a certain price, sell at a certain price, and make a profit. It s no concern of mine whether others can do the same or not. The customer gets the benefit. You forget where the cus tomer comes in." "I ain t thinkin two chaws of terbacker about the customer," declared Mr. Burroughs candidly; "an you ain t, either, Joel, an you know it. Ef I could git three-twenty-five out of him for that three-dollar line, f r instance, I d charge three-twenty-five quicker n a wink. But then he d jest go to Wollaston, or across to Easthaven, an buy there. So I can t sell any dearer. An I can t buy any cheaper, as fur as I know. Well, you see, I can." "An so ye re goin to crowd me out?" "Why do you keep bringing it back to you, all the time?" inquired Mr. Harney testily. You say my business 11 interfere with yours. THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 11 Well, I can t help that. I judge you interfere some with old Jesse Grimshaw. He was cob bling away here when you were growing up on the farm, and I was a little shaver. He did n t do any better after you opened shop, I take it. "I charge the same prices f r makin an re- pairin that he does," argued Mr. Burroughs, a little taken aback by thus having the war car ried into his own country. "The village has grown sence Jesse was young. There was room f r another. Jesse s allers made a livin sence, same as I have. "Well now I guess there s room for a third." "But this ain t the same," began the other earnestly. "Don t you see that ef you Mr. Harney got down from his chair, and reached for his hat. 1 i Most one, he said. Time to be getting home to dinner. * But how about this matter, Joel ? It means a good deal to me, I can tell ye. "I don t want to interfere with your trade, George, nor with anybody s. But I can t see why I should throw up a profitable opening just because it may hurt somebody else s sales a little. Business is business." "Friendship is friendship, too; remember 12 PROPHET S LANDING that, urged the shoemaker. You an I was boys together, ef I was a leetle older n you. An we Ve been men together, an neighbors an friends an church members, an our families, too; an our fathers b fore us. Don t that count f r anythinT " Business is business," repeated Mr. Har- ney obdurately. 1 1 If I don t take up this offer of Ball & Brownson, they 11 put it to somebody else. You and I are just as good friends as ever; you know that." " Won t ye think it over a little more?" pleaded the elder man. "Why, yes, I 11 go over it again with my head clerk, and see if we can do anything. But I can t make you any promises." Mr. Harney was standing, hat in hand, wait ing to go, and Mr. Burroughs now rose heavily. "Looks some like snow ag in, don t it?" he said, with a brave attempt at lightness of speech. Guess I 11 have to be rubbin up my sleigh-runners." He passed out through the store, and into the village street. As Joel Harney himself went out, a minute later, he was deep in thought; and as he took his seat at the midday dinner at home, he was still silent and preoccupied, though the keen, steely, business-like expression had strangely left his face. THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 13 "Ma s had a letter from Olive, pa," re marked Josie, the younger daughter. "That so?" said her father, interested at once. When does she expect to get here ? Next week Tuesday. That s two days be fore Thanksgiving, and she does n t have to go back till Monday. Is n t it nice?" "So we 11 have her with us for six days, Joel," put in Mrs. Harney. "Could n t be nicer," agreed her husband heartily. "Boarding-school is all very well, but I must say I m glad it s only for one year. "I guess you miss Olive as much as the rest of us do," observed Mrs. Harney good- humoredly. Miss her ? I should think I did ! said Mr. Harney, who was devoted to all of his family. Who would n t miss Olive 1 What time is she coming?" "The train gets to Wollaston at 3.10. You 11 have to meet her in the buggy, or you might take the rockaway, and we 11 all drive over and surprise her." "I ve got a better idea yet, Mr. Harney re joined, as interested as any of them. "It seems likely to snow again to-night or to-morrow; and if there s enough of it to last, this time, 14 PROPHET S LANDING we can hitch up the big sleigh, and give her a sleigh-ride. That 11 be jolly," cried Josie enthusiasti cally. "Remember our last sleigh-ride, pa!" I guess I do ! " declared her father. When you had the reins, and turned that corner too sharp. Lucky it was only a soft drift that you spilled us into ! It was the first time you d tried the new brown ponies," protested Josie. "How was I to know all their tricks ? "Pa, can I have a new sled?" queried Jay, who was eight. "I ve had mine three years, and it s too slow anyway. "Yes, I guess you re entitled to a new one, this fall. We re expecting some at the store in a few days, and I should n t wonder if one of em would be about your size." "I 11 sell mine to Timmie Burroughs," said Jay with satisfaction. "He says his pa can t give him one, this year, and if I 11 sell him mine, he 11 pay me thirty-seven cents he s got saved up. "Well, Jay, you give him the sled free, and I 11 pay you the thirty-seven cents myself," his father rejoined. "I guess Timmie does n t have any too much spending-money. 4 * He s been ever since last summer saving it THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 15 up," Jay said. " There s lots of things he wanted, but he wanted a sled most. "Well, now he can get one of the other things too." Mr. Harney spoke a little ab sently, as if something in the talk had set him thinking again. "Susan Burroughs was over here, this morning," observed Mrs. Harney, following her husband into the front hall after dinner. "What did she want?" inquired he, putting on his overcoat. "To talk over that church missionary matter? I suppose you told her we d agreed to give five dollars extra, this year. "Yes, she said it was very generous of you. But that was n t what she came for. It was about George and you. She said they d heard that you were going to open a line of shoes at the store, and she was afraid it would hurt his trade terribly. I told her I had n t heard any thing about it, one way or the other." It had never been Joel s habit to take his wife into his confidence regarding business matters. Yes, we re going to try it a little, he said. "I don t want to interfere with George, of course." "But won t it?" asked his wife anxiously. 16 PROPHET S LANDING "He thinks it s going to," lie admitted. He was in at the store this morning to see me about it. "Joel, you would n t let it, would you?" asked Mrs. Harney. We Ve got plenty now, and the store s doing splendidly just as it is. We don t want to harm anybody else. Of course not. But the store s growing all the time. I can t afford to hold it back. "Why, we don t need any more money than we have, said his wife simply. Joel smiled. "Have we got too much?" he demanded. "No, not a cent. What with two servants now, and Olive at school, and the new ponies, and all." "Well, three years ago, before I added that big extension for clothing and drygoods, we did n t have nearly as much, and you said we had enough then. "I don t know how it is," mused Mrs. Har ney. "We do seem to be spending more." "Then I Ve got to provide more," he said, with a smile. "But we don t want to take anybody else s living," argued she. "I don t say we re going to. Certainly no one wants to do that. But I can t keep my THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 17 business back on every side for fear of some body else losing a dollar." What will you do about George ? Well, I ve been thinking it over, and I have an idea that may help to settle it. I m going to see him now ; and Mr. Harney kissed his wife affectionately, and went out, walking briskly to his friend s unpretending shoe-store. "George," he said, "my head clerk, Thorn ton, s a first-rate fellow, but he can t be every where. No more can Joe and Harry. When we add that new line of shoes, as we expect, we 11 need more help. Now what do you say to giving up here, and coming over to take charge of the shoe part of the business?" Mr. Burroughs, who was waxing thread, looked up, much startled. Who, me?" he asked. Yes. That would arrange things very well, T think." "Go over there an be clerk?" repeated George Burroughs. "That s the idea." An give up this store I "I 11 take the stock off your hands." The shoemaker slowly grasped the proposi tion. His face, usually gentle, grew hard, and when he spoke, his voice was indignant. 18 PROPHET S LANDING "See here, Joel Harney," he said; "you don know what you re sayin . I ve been in dependent all my days, even ef I have n t made much more n a livin ; an I ain t goin to be come anybody s hired clerk at my time o life, not ef I have to work twenty hours, instead o twelve." "You need n t take it that way," said the other, rather astonished at this outburst from one so usually meek. I came in to make you a friendly proposition, after what we were talk ing over, this morning. "Well, I don t want it." "You won t have any reason to complain of the wages, I think; or the hours, or any thing. I always believe in treating my clerks liberally. " T ain t the wages !" Mr. Burroughs burst out, rising from his bench in his excitement. "It s your pay in me wages, Joel Harney, you an I, that s been boys together, an grown up man an man, an neither of us beholden to anybody. Think I d like to take wages from you? Think I d relish bein known as one o your clerks? or anybody s clerk in Proph et s Landin ?" I don t see why you "How would you like it yourself! S pose THE RIGOR OF THE GAME 19 your store had n t got on, an mine had, would ye be willin to come here as clerk?" Mr. Harney s refuge in argument was usually silence and a growing anger. He said nothing. I guess not ! went on the shoemaker, now fully aroused. "An I ain t, either. How would I feel, goin home an tellin Susan an the boy that I was goin to clerk it f r Joel Har- ney 1 No, sir ! I may be druv to it, some day, but I ain t there yit, an I pray God I 11 never git to be!" Mr. Harney turned, and put his hand on the knob of the shop door. I came with a fair offer, George, he curtly said. "I Ve done all I could. After this, you can t expect " "I don t expect nothin ," said Mr. Bur roughs. I was a fool to expect anythin in the fust place. I don t care what ye do now, Joel Harney." The shoemaker sat down with a bump on his bench, and picking up his thread, began to jerk it violently through the yellow wax. "You jest go ahead an sell what you like." I expect to, said his visitor briefly, and he left the shop. Thornton, he said to his assistant, as he 20 PROPHET S LANDING entered his own store, "have you had the ship ping-bill for those cases of shoes yet?" "It came in the noon mail, sir. The cases are due to arrive next week. "That ought to give us a good December trade," said the employer. "You work out the retail reductions, as we arranged, and put a notice in Saturday s paper. II THE LANDING WHEN old Jacob Harney had breathed his last, fifteen years before, no one had had aught to say of him but good. He had lived and had died in the little Connecticut River village where he had been born ; his life and walk had been an open page to all who knew him, and they had read it with approval and af fection. A full half century before his death, he had started the modest country store in the little hamlet ; it grew as the hamlet grew, which was but slowly, and it had served honestly and faithfully the needs of the quiet community, while yielding an honorable living to its owner. Jacob Harney had not been progressive. He had had no desire to be. Things flowed tran quilly on as they were ; why should he venture on unknown courses? At the end of the half century, the little red frame store, save for a few slight and necessary changes and better- 21 22 PROPHET S LANDING merits, looked almost exactly as it had looked on the morning when Jacob had first opened its doors to business. The flour barrels stood in precisely the same corner as then; the hams hung from the same row of hooks over the rear counter, the bins of white and brown sugar and the japanned boxes for coffee and tea remained just behind that counter, and the dim, cob webby window at the back still let the light upon the high, narrow, leather-topped desk where the old man kept his simple books. In his latter years, the sign over the door had been changed. Joel, the son, after a good country schooling, and a year or two of prac tical clerkship with a Boston retailer, had joined his father in the store, and after a few years had been taken into partnership ; so the sign was changed from "Jacob Harney" to "J. Harney & Son." That 11 hold good through your lifetime as well as mine, Joel, both bein J. Harney," chuckled the old man, who had a gift of gentle humor. "So the firm 11 save on signs for a long while ahead. Joel had fallen in entirely with his father s ways at the store. The older man, despite his innate gentleness, had a certain authority of manner, and the son never dreamed of dis- THE LANDING 23 puting with him nor of altering long standing arrangements. Whatever unsuspected initiative he himself possessed was entirely in abeyance during his father s lifetime. He married, and settled down in the old home, and the store yielded him a living, as it was yielding his father. The village, known by the curious and strik ing name of Prophet s Landing, lay on the river s edge, three miles from Wollaston and the railroad, in a good farming and to bacco district. Two hundred years before, a band of pioneers, breaking westward through the forests which hedged in the Massachusetts colonies, had come to the broad, peaceful Con necticut, and had crossed it to settle in this pleasant nook on its bank. These settlers were different in one particular from most of the bands who, during that period, were blazing their way westward from the Massachusetts coast or northward from the Sound. Those bands were simply homeseekers; this little group was under the spell of a potent religious leadership. Village history pointed backward to the founder as a "prophet," a dim, mystic personage, concerning whom few authentic de tails had come down to later times, yet whose figure, tall, lean and white-bearded, stood out 24 PROPHET S LANDING sharply and ineffaceably in the traditions of the community. It was an era of religious credulity and enthusiasm ; and one can picture a strong, virile personality, imbued with a "call" and the spirit of prophecy, collecting about him a knot of believing adherents, and leading them into the wilderness to found a new and separate settlement holy unto the Lord. "Prophet s Landing," his followers had reverently named the site he chose; and the fact that the seer had left behind him a single line of descendants until this day, son suc ceeding son, unto now the fifth generation, preserved the tradition with the name. Over on the Point, a little to the north of the present village, and a quarter of a mile from the Har- ney store, there was at this time living an old man, tall, lean, white-bearded, like his ancestor of yore, and claiming the same afflatus. It was related that all of the line had had the Scrip tural gift of prophecy. For the most part, they were silent men; but in times of great local stress or national emergency, they would break out into impassioned and fervid speech. At such epochs, all the countryside flocked to hear, and despite the growing religious skep ticism of the later eras, their words invariably made a wide and powerful impression. THE LANDING 25 The old founder s son had sounded the alarm, in the unsettled times of the Indian wars ; rousing the settlers and the neighboring communities more than once to rise and com bine against impending peril; incidentally scoring their sins, and, like some modern Jere miah, urging them to repentance, under pen alty of impending wrath. The son of this son, in turn grown old, had, in the troublous times preceding the Revolution, broken his silence in stirring words of counsel and cheer, inciting all who heard him to strike for national indepen dence while the opportunity so gloriously of fered. From time to time in later periods, in the strange excitement of the Millerite move ment, in the financial stress and suffering caused by the money panics of 37 and 57, in epochs of religious revival, and above all, when the taking up of arms against the South was preached throughout New England as a holy crusade, a voice from Prophet s Landing made itself heard and heeded. It was the descendant now living who had cried out so powerfully against slavery and disunion before them all; and when his words and those of countless other orators and leaders had done their work, when the North was at last aroused and armed and had stood up in its great strength, then the 26 PROPHET S LANDING old man had relapsed into his wonted silence and gone simply back to his daily work. That had happened a dozen years ago, and already a generation was coming upon the stage to whom these things were only traditions, and who looked upon the venerable individual on the Point perhaps more with curiosity than with awe. Men like Joel Harney and George Burroughs of course remembered well the strong part he had played. They themselves had gone to the front in the last years of the war, when the need of men grew great; and they were not likely to forget the first voice raised to urge them on. But they and others now looked upon the stern old enthusiast as one whose mission was ended. Those fierce and fearful times were past; the land and the world were now at peace, and there seemed no likelihood that the prophet, if prophet he was, would ever have need in their lifetime to open his lips again in exhortation and appeal. No one knew the original founder s name, but his son and those coming after him had al ways accepted that of Potter, a name derived from their trade. Potters they were, the pres ent descendant like the rest. The old man mixed his own clay and turned his own wheel, and painted and fired his own wares, as his THE LANDING 27 great-great-grandfather had done. It might be thought that his primitive methods would long ago have been superseded by modern machin ery and manufacture. But there was a certain strong, quaint individuality, even a beauty, of form and line and color, in his pitchers and jars and bowls and vases, which gave them al ways a steady though restricted sale. Boston, Albany and even New York sent to buy of him, collectors prizing his specimens far above the ordinary; so that he feared no rival, and dreaded no reverses, feeling "secure in the work of his hands." Thus old Elder Potter (for so he was always called, though he would hold no church office,) lived his quiet life on the Point. His wife, and his son, who was yet a boy, made up the little family. And the village which his forebear had founded grew and thrived within his sight. Jacob Harney died, and Joel came into full possession of home and store. For a time, no changes were made in either. But Joel had in him something which his f athe: 1 had not ; some thing which had lain dormant during the senior s lifetime, and of which he himself had scarcely been aware, -the gift of business en terprise. He was a man who, entrusted with ten talents, could not but have returned ten 28 PROPHET S LANDING talents more; and with one, would assuredly not have hidden it in a napkin. Slowly changes, improvements, began to be made about the familiar red store, changes that often seemed almost impiouSj disregardful of the memory of the dead Jacob, who had loved every beam in the unpretending old place ; who had dictated, a half century before, where the molasses bar rel should stand, and where the butter-tubs, and had never deviated from those arrange ments. Joel moved at first with reluctance, impelled, he scarce knew why, to alter this de tail and extend that line of stock ; but gradually he began to feel his powers, and forthwith there ensued a period of marked growth. Mrs. Harney was no business woman, but she had something of the same progressiveness in re gard to their home ; and so, year by year, store and home were improved, more money came in, and new comforts were added, until the Har- neys were now far the richest family in the little place, and their possessions still kept on increasing. A subtle change was noticeable in Joel him self. In his father s lifetime he had been quiet and retiring; a little deprecatory in manner, one would have said, the natural habit of one whose ancestors had been trained in compara- THE LANDING 29 live poverty and the steady press of gaining a living. Now there was noticeable a certain erectness of carriage, a slightly more inde pendent manner with his neighbors and friends, more care in regard to dress and out ward appearance. The man meant to develop with his surroundings; at least> he was so de veloping, whether consciously or not, and whether along the best lines or not. His kind liness of heart, well inherited, seemed unim paired ; he gave to charity with scrupulous and increasing liberality as his means increased; but it was perhaps more with the air of confer ring a favor than formerly. A strange, in toxicating sense of power was imperceptibly taking hold upon him. He was acquiring the knowledge that he was no longer one among his unpretending neighbors, steady, ungifted, with the need to struggle as they; but that he had abilities and possibilities which in a sense set him above them and which might in time bring him to face a still larger community and rise in it. That wonderful sense of the power to ac complish! How it takes hold upon those who once disclose it to themselves and to others; what unguessed changes it silently works for good or ill within their breasts ! So it was that Joel was scarcely aware of an 30 alteration in himself which kept step with the alteration in his outward circumstances; and in so far as he was aware of it, he had at tempted no analysis of the question whither it might lead him. ni ON THE POINT TT1HERE s Olive! I see her," cried Josie J- delightedly, as the train drew into Wollas- ton station, and the eager group on the plat form scanned the car-windows. "Hullo, Ollie!" shouted Jay excitedly. Here we all are ! H-s-s-sh ! reproved his mother, putting a vainly silencing hand on his shoulder, while she waved the other at the girlish figure making its way out through the car. Everybody 11 hear you, Jay. "Well, let em hear, ma," put in Mr. Harney cheerfully. "It is n t any secret, you know; and it is n t often we get a daughter home from boarding-school," and he nodded and waved with the rest. l There she comes ! I m going to grab her first," cried Jay, breaking away from his mother s detaining hand and rushing toward 31 32 PROPHET S LANDING the car-steps. "How d ye do, 01? There s the others. * * Yes, I see them, laughed the girl happily, as she stepped down to the platform and gave her youthful brother a hug and squeeze. How nice it just is to get back ! Well, Josie ! " as her sister pressed toward her. ; And mother ! and father ! She kissed each one in turn. "We all came over in the sleigh," went on Jay, with a boy s eagerness to tell the news. "And Six-Toe s got four little kittens, and there is n t any more school till Monday, and I m going to have a new sled. Mercy ! What a lot of interesting things ! And how well you all look. Oh, it s so good to be home. Dear mother!" She patted her mother s cheek affectionately. "You re looking well, too, Ollie," said Mr. Harney, beaming paternally on her. "Did you have a pleasant car-ride?" "Oh, lovely. It did n t seem three hours at all. I had a seat to myself, and kept looking out of the window, the whole way here. Every thing looks so beautiful and fresh, covered with this new snow. "There s going to be an entertainment, Thursday evening," announced Jay; "and 1 m going to help take tickets at the door. ON THE POINT 33 "Jay s growing up, you see," commented his father amusedly. I should think so ! " assented Olive. What sort of entertainment, Jay 1 Where is it to be ? " Come, come, there 11 be plenty of time to talk about these things by and by. We re going to take you for a ride, Ollie, around by the Haines Woods road, on the way home." "Yes, let s get in," chimed in Josie joy ously. * The ponies hate to stand. "It s in Lyceum Hall, and it s given by the Young People s Union," continued Jay, stur dily resolved to finish his subject ; "and you re to play, and Steve Baird and Mr. Thornton are going to sing, and " 1 1 There, Jay, there won t be any news left, cut in his father good-humoredly. Take your sister s bag and umbrella, and we 11 get in." Still all talking busily, they stowed them selves snugly in the big sleigh, and the ponies danced off over the crisp snow, the bells jin gling merrily. Are we going to have a nice Thanksgiving, mamma ? queried the newcomer, nestling con tentedly to her mother s side. Bully, interjected Jay. Aunt Sadie and the boys are coming over from here, and Mr. Thornton s coming, and 34 PROPHET S LANDING Jay!" said his father, turning around im peratively. The boy subsided. 1 l The trouble is, said Josie, from the front seat with her father, "we all want to talk at once. "I have n t told her half the things," ob served Jay, in an aggrieved tone. "Nor I," retorted Josie. "I Ve hardly got a word in edgeways." That s unusual for you, Jo, dear, teased her sister, laughing. "Oh, I 11 make up for it, never fear," re turned the younger girl promptly. "But I think it s ma s turn just now." "Well, we are going to have a pleasant Thanksgiving, I think, resumed Mrs. Harney, pulling the buffalo-rug higher around Olive and Jay at her side. "Your aunt and the boys are coming, as Jay says ; and Uncle Hart and Auntie and Fan ; and the minister and his wife ; and we Ve asked Mr. Thornton too." 1 1 What did you ask him for I inquired Olive impulsively. I don t like him. "I asked him, Olive," said her father with deliberation. "Albert Thornton s a fine young fellow. I consider him the best clerk I Ve ever had. He s bound to get on. ON THE POINT 35 I don t like him, repeated the girl. "Why not?" I don t know. I don t trust him, somehow. 11 You don t know him, that s all," answered Mr. Harney. * He 11 be a rich man before he dies." I don t see what that s got to do with it, returned Olive rebelliously. "He never looks a person straight in the face, and he never says things till he s thought them all out, and " "A very good trait," commented Joel Har ney, giving the horses a light flick with the whip which sent them ahead in a long, exhilara ting stride. "I m in hopes you and he 11 get better acquainted as time goes on. Olive made no reply, and the talk turned to other topics. They spun along the hard, white country roads, taking a wide circuit which fi nally brought them toward the home village from the northwest. The keenly blue waters of the river gleamed not far off. As they turned south into the river-road, a light cutter was seen approaching them. The young man driv ing waved a hilarious greeting as he neared them. "Glad to see you home, Olive," he called jubilantly. "I d have driven over for you my self, if they had n t got the start of me. When 36 PROPHET S LANDING are you" He had pulled up as the two vehicles approached each other, expecting a minute s pause and chat; but Mr. Harney did not slacken the ponies speed. "How do you do, Steve?" called back Olive s clear voice. "I m going to oh, wait a little, father, please ! But it was too late, for they had dashed by, leaving the occupant of the other sleigh standing up and staring back at them somewhat blankly along tlie lengthening road. "Oh, why did n t you slow up a little?" said Olive reproachfully. "I did n t have a chance for a word." "Getting late," said her father carelessly, "and dark. Besides, the ponies are warm, and I don t want em to stand. "Half a minute would n t have hurt them," Olive murmured, disappointed. "Never mind, Ollie, Steve 11 be around plenty of times before you go back," quizzed Josie. "Say, pa, drive out around the Point, and let s go by old Elder Potter s." Mr. Harney readily turned off into the side road which skirted the little point that pro jected into the river at this place, and they presently came out on the tip, where they caught the full sweep of the fresh north wind. ON THE POINT 37 Here stood a small stone house, and as they came by, a tall figure was standing at the gate, looking out at the evening sky. Mr. Har- ney reined up. "A good Thanksgiving to you and yours, Elder Potter," he said cheerfully. "I wish you d let me send you one of our fine, fat tur keys ; but I know you never can be persuaded to take gifts. The old man s burning black eyes were fixed intently on the speaker s face. He did not seem to see the other occupants of the cutter, and gave no greeting to any of them. There was an instant s pause, then he spoke. "Why should I take gifts?" he demanded proudly. "I will owe no man anything. As for you, Joel Harney, see that you likewise owe no man anything." "What a curious way of putting it!" ex claimed Mrs. Harney, as her husband, momen tarily disconcerted, gathered the reins and started on. * How queer he is ! " "I guess pa is n t likely ever to owe anybody anything," exulted Josie, with pride in her father s standing. " Is n t Mr. Potter the fun niest old man ! You never can tell what he s going to say." Olive and Jay were looking back toward the 38 PEOPHET S LANDING little stone house. The outline of the tall form was clearly visible, still standing motionless at the low gate, while the darkening waters of the river glimmered somberly beyond in the even ing light. Mr. Harney had not spoken. His lips were compressed and his cheerful carelessness seemed gone, as he drove slowly home. IV FOOTLIGHTS IT was Thanksgiving evening, and people in Prophet s Landing were gathering in the little local auditorium for the church entertain ment. It was a Presbyterian affair, but in the small community church lines were not strictly drawn, and the enterprises of one denomina tion were generally loyally supported by mem bers of the others. Public amusements were not too frequent at best, and every opportu nity was worth embracing. Jay Harney was at the Lyceum door, bust ling and important, helping to take the twenty- cent tickets which were purchased at a table in the small lobby. The hall was well lighted by large kerosene lamps ; two huge stoves diffused a grateful warmth, and the curtained stage gave promise of enjoyment and edification to come, as the villagers found their way in and chose seats. Timmie Burroughs was distributing printed bills, which read as follows : 39 MUSICAL AND LITERARY ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN BY THE rebptorian Hating $eojrte g anion Thursday Evening, November 26, 1874 programme PART I PIANO SOLO THE MAIDEN S PRAYER Miss OLIVE HARNEY RECITATION JOHN MAYNARD MR. HOLLIS HEYWOOD SONG MY GRANDFATHER S CLOCK MR. STEPHEN BAIRD VIOLIN KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN MRS. SABINA THOMAS Accompanied by Miss LENA GRIMSHAW VOCAL DUET SWEET SPIRIT, HEAR MY PRAYER Miss HARNEY and MR. ALBERT THORNTON SOPRANO SOLOS a. COME, BIRDIE, COME b. LONG, LONG AGO Miss ETTA BETTS COMIC SONG CAPTAIN JINKS OF THE HORSE MARINES MR. BAIRD 40 programme PART II 1. PIANO DUET POPULAR AIRS Introducing "Up in a. Balloon, Boys," "Walking Down Broadway," "Shoo-Fly," "Putting on the Style" and "Little Maggie May." MISSES HARNEY and GRIMSHAW 2. ORATION THE DUTIES OF CITIZENSHIP MASTER EDDIE MCNAMARA 3. SONG FATHER, DEAR FATHER, COME HOME WITH ME NOW Miss ETTA BETTS 4. VOCAL DUET SILVER THREADS AMONG TH GOLD MRS. THOMAS and MR. THORNTON 5. PIANO SOLO RIPPLING WAVES (With Variations) Miss OLIVE HARNEY 6. COMIC SONG THE MULLIGAN GUARDS MR. BAIRD 7. ADDRESS BY THE PASTOR REV. ANDREW WHITEHOUSE 8. FINALE HOME, SWEET HOME Sung by the Audience REFRE SHMENTS 41 42 PROPHET S LANDING BEHIND the scenes, in the bare little room opening on the platform, a merry, whispering party of the performers was gathered; all carefully dressed in their best clothes, all pleasingly excited and self-conscious, conning books, humming low snatches of their songs, or sorting out their music. Now and then the scrape of a violin bow was faintly audible to those in front, or a burst of gleeful laughter would be heard. The Presbyterian Church en tertainments were always noted for one special and interesting feature, and this was the as sistance of Zenas Finlay as introducer and general toastmaster, so to speak. Zenas, de spite his sixty-odd years, most of them given to hard-working farming life, was possessed of a dry and inexhaustible humor, and his wag gish sayings did much to enliven life in the Landing and to furnish others with a fund of joke and anecdote. He was invariably made to preside at these light entertainments, the organizers knowing well that even if the pro gramme should prove thin, he would amply make up for its deficiencies. Consequently, when the row of candle footlights was finally lighted and the roller curtain went creakily up, there was a welcoming burst of applause as the old man came solemnly upon the stage and stepped forward to the centre. FOOTLIGHTS 43 Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, rubbing his long, bristly chin with his hand, "our mis sionary, out West, has run short o clo es an terbacker an things which he has to have to convert the heathen ; an as folks back here in Connecticut Ve got more money than they know what to do with, "here there was a ripple of remonstrant laughter, "we youthful members o the Young People s Union thought it was a good time to try an collect some of it together an fit him out a leetle. You ve all e t your Thanksgivin dinners to-day, an mebbe some of ye ve remembered to give thanks, not countin the blessin ; but ef ye have n t, why, ye c n comfort y rselves now by knowin that ye Ve jest given twenty cents worth o thanks at the door anyway. An the performers, I hope, 11 give ye twenty cents worth o return for em, though, jedgin from the way they Ve been tryin their rehearsin , in behind here," he waved with his hand to ward the room at the side, "I kind o doubt it. Well, we 11 have to see by findin out. It s a comfort to know we Ve got the money safe, anyhow. The first piece on the programme is" Zenas consulted the bill, "is The Maiden s Prayer, on the pianer, by Miss Olive Harney. Of course you all know the maiden, though mebbe you don t know her prayer. I 44 PROPHET S LANDING don t either; but ef I was to make a guess, I sh d say it was that she 11 make as good a match as my wife down there in the audience made." More laughter followed this sally, to Mrs. Finlay s manifest confusion as well as to Olive s; the latter, prettily dressed in pink, and blushing very charmingly to correspond, emerging upon the stage, escorted by Albert Thornton, as Zenas calmly retired to a chair in the wings. Olive played with skill and with delicacy of touch; and despite a little tremor incident to the occasion, she rendered her piece accept ably, and was rewarded with a hearty encore, responding with The Battle of Prague. "I feel as ef I d been sabred an cannon- naded, an drawn an quartered," commented Zenas, slowly coming forward as the girl re tired amid applause. I had n t any idee that war was so bloody an turrible. Ef s the South s ever tempted to want to fight ag in, after they ve had time to fergit the late on- pleasantness, we 11 jest send Olive down among em an git her to play The Battle of Prague. That 11 teach em to keep out o trouble while they kin. Now comes a recitation bout John Maynard, by Mr. Hollis Hey- wood. Seems to me I ve heerd about John FOOTLIGHTS 45 Maynard afore," here there was a subdued laugh, as the piece was a favorite stand-by in those times, but I disremember. P r aps he was one o the signers o the Declaration. Any way, we 11 soon find out. Come along, Hollis. Thus unceremoniously introduced, young Mr. Heywood came forward, and plunged into the well known and exciting story about the steamboat on fire, and the pilot standing daunt- lessly by the wheel amid the falling sparks as he steered to the shore. Worn as the tale was, it was effectively told, and held the listeners in tent, especially the children. As Hollis uttered the captain s agonized cry, "Can you hold on five minutes longer, John!" a thrill went through the house at the sturdy answer, "Ay, ay, sir!" and when the vessel was safely beached at last, and Hollis had made his bow and retired, some one called Three cheers for John Maynard ! and they were given loudly. "Ef I d been John, I d ve lashed the wheel, an then climbed overboard with a life-pre server an a long rope hitched astern," re marked Mr. Finlay, rising contemplatively. "But I s pose he had his eye on jest sech gath- erin s as this, an he knew it would n t sound so well. It s awful hard, sometimes, to jedge between common-sense an a desire f r fame. 46 PROPHET S LANDING Now comes Steve Baird, to tell us somethin about his grandfather s clock. I used to know oP Henry Baird, an I ve visited at his house pretty consid rable in days gone by, but I never knew that he had any pertic lar clock he set store by. I hope he left it to Steve, cause it may 1 arn him to git to church a little promp ter n he gen rally does." Stephen Baird stepped forth, quite un abashed by this pointed allusion. His large, well built frame and ruddy face made a goodly picture, as he stood there before the row of tallow footlights. Olive took her seat at the piano, and played the opening bars of the familiar accompaniment : and Steve, who had a good baritone voice, FOOTLIGHTS 47 broke into the words of the song, so largely for gotten now, but which in its day was sung the length and breadth of the land. My Grandfather s Clock was too large for the shelf, So it stood ninety years on the floor. It was taller by half than the old man himself, Tho it weigh d not a pennyweight more. It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born, And was always his treasure and pride ; But it stopp d short, never to go again, When the old man died. CHORUS "Ninety years without slumbering, Tick, tick ; tick, tick ; His life-seconds numbering, Tick, tick; tick, tick; It stopp d short, never to go again, When the old man died. 2 In watching its pendulum swing to and fro, Many hours had he spent while a boy ; By permission of the Louis H. Boss Music Publishing Co., owners of copyright. 48 PROPHET S LANDING And in childhood and manhood the clock seem d to know And to share both his grief and his joy. It struck twenty-four when he entered at the door With a blooming and beautiful bride ; But it stopp d short, never to go again, When the old man died. CHORUS My Grandfather said that of those he could hire, Not a servant so faithful he found ; For it wasted no time, and had but one desire, At the close of each week to be wound. It kept in its place, not a frown upon its face, And its hands never hung by its side ; But it stopp d short, never to go again, When the old man died." CHORUS The audience was joining softly in the chorus now, and evidently enjoying it as much as did the singer. Steve went on to the final verse, and his voice was subdued as he sang its words, words perhaps a little artificial or senti mental to modern seeming, yet with an un deniable touch of solemnity : FOOTLIGHTS 49 It rang an alarm in the dead of the night, An alarm that for years had been dumb ; And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight, That his hour of departure had come. Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime, As we silently stood by its side ; But it stopp d short, never to go again, When the old man died." The song was an undoubted success, and everyone clapped enthusiastically. The singer, however, did not respond with an encore, com ing out only to bow cheerfully. Zenas got up again. "I jedge he s only got a couple of encores handy, an lie s savin em f r later on. I see he s down twice more on the programme. Well, I m reel interested to hear bout that ol clock of Henry Baird s. Strange I never heerd a syllable of it b fore. Now I ain t an agent, an this ain t the place to do any advertising but I jest want to tell Steve that there s no sense in his lettin the clock lay off perma nently like that. The works re all sound yit, I jedge, an ef he 11 jest take it araound to Jim 50 PROPHET S LANDING Briggs in this town, Jim 11 repair it as good as new. He fixed my watch up fust-rate, last week. Ain t that so, Jim ? Mr. Briggs, toward whom all eyes in the audience were thus suddenly directed, looked extremely uncomfortable at being brought into this unsolicited prominence. He grinned sheep ishly, but attempted no reply. The entertainment went on, well carried out by the different performers, and continually enlivened by Zenas Finlay s dry humor. The fifth number of Part II had been reached, and while Mr. Finlay was indulging in some mild comments on the preceding number, Olive, in the group in the room adjoining the stage, took up the music of "Rippling Waves, in readiness to be summoned. Albert Thornton, who had just finished his duet with Mrs. Thomas, came toward her to escort her to the piano. But Steve Baird was before him. "I 11 take Olive in, this time," said Steve quietly. Thornton s dark face flushed, and his small, closely set eyes turned toward the speaker with an angry gleam. "I think not," he said. "Miss Harney did me the honor before, and" And she 11 do me the honor now, finished the other curtly. Won t you, Olive ? FOOTLIGHTS 51 Zenas had finished, and they were all waiting for her. The embarrassed girl had no oppor tunity to make a choice, for almost before she knew it, Baird had pushed Thornton aside with an effortless but irresistible movement of his arm, and, offering that arm to Olive, led her upon the stage. "My! did you see that look Al Thornton gave him 1 ?" whispered Etta Betts to one of the men, half fearfully. He 11 get even with him somehow. "Served him right," muttered the young fellow whom she addressed. None of the young men liked Thornton. "Only been here six months, and acts as if he "You re all jealous of him," retorted Miss Etta pertly. "That s because he s so good- looking. "Humph! I don t care a darn for his good looks," sniffed the other, sotto voce. "But he s sneaky and still." "That was rude of you, Steve," said Olive, reproachfully, after the entertainment, when performers and auditors were socially min gling in the discussion of coffee and cake, and the two found themselves together. "I did n t realize what you were doing till too late, or I d certainly have gone on with Mr. Thornton." "Well, it was too late, you see, Ollie," 52 PROPHET S LANDING laughed Baird easily. "I concluded you d been with him enough for one evening. "What right have you got to conclude any such thing?" demanded the girl> in indignant remonstrance. Steve laughed again, teasingly. Lots of right, Ollie, he said. Ever since I used to drag you to school on your sled, and fight the other boys when they wanted to take turns. "It s a very different thing, now, Steve Baird, returned the offended young lady. * I won t let" "Have another piece of cake, Ollie, and keep the scolding till we re walking home. "We re not going to walk home, at least, not together. I m going to let Mr. Thornton take me home. Steve s face fell. < < What f or ? " he asked. Because you were so rude to him. Olive had told her father truthfully that she did not like his managing clerk; but what girl under these clashing claims would not have sufficient of the coquette in her to be willing to hold the balance temporarily even? Mr. Finlay s thin, gaunt form approached the two. "I don know which of ye I heerd the most FOOTLIGHTS 53 compliments fur," he remarked genially. "Mebbe t won t be worth while tryin to sort em apart, an you c n both keep em in com mon. "I d rather have mine by themselves, please," Olive responded with dignity. Then she smiled up at him. "I think most of them go to you, though. "That s the fust one I Ve had," said he mendaciously. "Oh, Mr. Finlay! Why, I Ve heard em just flying all around you, like corn in a pop per." "Dear Olive, you did play so nicely!" ex claimed some worthy matron, bustling up to the three ; and as others came near, they were gradually fused into a noisy, busily talking group, and Steve found himself effectually sun dered from his companion. He was near enough, however, a little later, to hear Thornton ask her if he might see her home, and to see her nod pleasantly in reply; thus learning that the question had not been asked before, and that he himself had been the cause of forfeiting his own opportunity. Olive had not spoken with Steve again, and did not appear to have noticed his moody face ; yet, as all flocked out into the clear, wintry 54 PROPHET S LANDING night, and she with her escort passed near him, she called out : "Oh, Steve, if you 11 come around to-mor row evening, we 11 try over those two new songs I brought back from school." "An , Steve, don t fergit to have Jim Briggs fix y r grandfather s clock," put in Zenas Fin- lay, who overheard her. "It may come in handy f r housekeepin , some time." V BRANCHING OUT THE next few months witnessed several im portant developments in Joel Harney s fortunes. His store in Prophet s Landing had become too small for his expanding energies, and he had opened a branch store in the larger town of Wollaston, three miles inland. It was a branch which bid fair rapidly to surpass the parent trunk. Joel had rented a commodious building on the main street, with a privilege of purchase ; and had repaired and extensively re modeled it. It was stocked along the same lines as the store in Prophet s Landing, but on a considerably larger scale ; what was in a vil lage merely a general store, became in this larger community a department store, with its many possibilities of ramification. This called for considerable capital, all of which was forth coming without difficulty. Mr. Harney s credit was of the best, and an enterprise of this kind tended materially to increase it. He supplied 55 56 PROPHET S LANDING a part of the funds from his own resources; and the remainder he was able readily to obtain from the local bank at easy rates. So the new venture rapidly took shape, and on the second of April the store burgeoned out with full lines of inviting new goods, which attracted an eager throng for the opening day. Mr. Harney, calm, confident and masterful, supervised every de tail, ably seconded by Thornton, who was to have managing charge of the new store, and as sisted by a staff of keenly selected clerks. The business was a success from the first, wholly setting at naught the prediction of many who had contended that Mr. Harney was going ahead too boldly, and that he would lose if he took risks in this larger venture. He him self had never had a doubt regarding the ven ture, though he knew well the difficulties and dangers attending it. He felt himself thor oughly in his element, and entirely adequate to cope with the new responsibilities. He made trips to Boston and Albany and New York, where he evinced rare abilities as a shrewd buyer and a bargainer for favored terms. The older stores of quiet, easy-going Wollaston quickly began to feel the competition, and the merchants realized that a new and larger per sonality had come among them. BRANCHING OUT 57 Joe Sands and Harry Bemis remained in joint charge of the store in Prophet s Landing, under the unslackened direction of its owner. Mr. Harney spent the mornings in Wollaston and the afternoons in Prophet s Landing, at first generally taking his midday meal in the former town, but gradually making it possible to dine at home as formerly. This family meal was always a favorite hour with Joel, whose attachment to his household seemed to in crease, if possible, with his increasing cares. Thornton had taken hold of the new branch with much ability, as his employer had foreseen. One of Mr. Harney s special faculties was his business judgment of men, a faculty shown not only in his choice of Thornton, whom he had first encountered in Boston, but in his un erring selection of the new attendants at the Wollaston store. It was his way to look an ap plicant over comprehensively, taking in details of dress and carriage and manner, ask a few searching, incisive questions, briefly examine references, and then make swift and unalter able decision. The personnel of the new store showed itself the most efficient of any in the town; and this in itself would account for much of the store s prompt success. Mr. Harney was a firm believer in liberal ad- 58 PROPHET S LANDING vertising, and the sleepy columns of the Wol- laston Chronicle and the Saturday Press were awakened by constantly changing and always interesting announcements. This was a plan that he had long pursued with the little local Gazette in the Landing. His neighbors there used at times to criticise his free use of money for these local displays; but their arguments never altered the trend of his business instinct. "What s the use o takin space to tell us about that new consignment o flour an feed, Joel?" one of his friends would argue good- naturedly. "You re the only store in the village that keeps flour an feed, an we all al- lers buy it there anyway, an allers expect to, as long as ye keep on sellin it as cheap as we c n git it anywhere else. That s jest a waste o money. But Joel did not think so. His belief was that the volume of trade in a community was not a fixed and determined amount but could be stimulated and enlarged. "Business is n t simply supplying what peo ple want, he would say. "It s making people want things you can supply." This maxim he acted on in numberless ways. The windows of the village store in Prophet s Landing had never of late years been like the BRANCHING OUT 59 windows of the average village store else where, unchanged from month to month, with a miscellaneous assortment of fly-specked gro cery-packages and pickle-bottles in one win dow, backed by a once gaudy tobacco placard, and with a meagre array of notions, perfumery and dry-goods in the other. Joel made it a point to keep his stock constantly turned over. He allowed no accumulations of forgotten goods in forgotten drawers and shelf-corners. Every few days, the counters were differently set out, the windows newly furnished. Articles that had had a slow sale were alluringly pushed into prominence, with specially ticketed price- reductions. Articles that sold well were made to sell still better. These methods, simple in themselves, and long put into commonplace practice in such great city emporiums as was then Stewart s in New York or Warren s in Boston, were and are yet curiously little made use of in country districts. Even Wollaston, larger by far and more progressive than Prophet s Landing, rubbed its eyes in much astonishment at the brisk shaking of dry bones which took place, after the new store, under the filially loyal name of " J. Harney & Son," had been opened. No sooner was success assured in this step 60 PROPHET S LANDING forward, than Mr. Harney made ready to take another. This was the building of a new home. It was a project that Mrs. Harney had long op posed. "It 11 never be the same to us, Joel," she pleaded. "Here your dear father and mother lived, and here we came when we were mar ried, and they welcomed us so lovingly; and here the children have been born, and have grown up, and it s just home to all of us. It s plenty large enough, if you d only think so." Joel would point out its undeniable deficien cies, its small, old-fashioned rooms, its lack of good heating facilities, its inconvenient winter and summer kitchens, its location, which was on a side street and admittedly unsatisfactory : but Mrs. Harney remained unconvinced. "It was an old house even in father s time, Ellen," Mr. Harney said. "I think a house gets old and unfit for use, just as a person does. The wood holds the damp, or it gets dry rot and grows musty, and the floors and stairs creak, and everything about the place comes to need renewing. The best thing for a house like this would be to burn it down, carpets, paper, furniture and all, and start fresh. BRANCHING OUT 61 Joel ! you would n t do such a thing ! ex claimed his wife, horrified. "No, I would n t do that, my dear," he laughed. "! 11 keep the old place standing, if only because it has all these associations you speak of. I don t know that I d even try to rent it or sell it. But we ve outgrown it, I think." "There s all the room we need," remon strated Mrs. Harney. "It is n t that. We Ve outgrown it in other ways. We had a plain bringing up, you and I, Ellen, and I don t say we re any the worse for it. I know you re not. Anyway, it was the best going, when we were young. But we owe the children something different." "We don t want to stand in their light, of course, Joel," admitted she. "But I don t see how " 1 Things are on rather a different scale with us now, you see," he said. "The girls will be having callers soon, and giving parties, and I want Jay to go to college and have a good home to bring his friends back to ; and I think you and I can learn to enjoy a few extra com forts, eh, Ellen?" There were many discussions of this nature before Mr. Harney brought his wife to see the 62 PROPHET S LANDING wisdom of his project; but she was finally won over, and the month that witnessed the open ing of the Wollaston store witnessed later the signing of a contract for a new residence on a plot of ground that Joel had long owned on the pleasant, rambling main street of Prophet s Landing. "Joel s forgin ahead, ain t he?" com mented Jim Briggs to a customer in his little watch and clock store, when the news became known. "I should say he was," responded the cus tomer. "He 11 be gittin above all his old friends after a while, ef he keeps on." "Have you noticed any diff rence in him?" inquired Mr. Briggs. "Why, I can t say as I have, exac ly; noth- in that you c d put your finger on. An yit there s a kind o somethin . " "I Ve thought so too," assented the watch maker. As friendly as ever, y know, but jest a little stiffish or somethin . Hope t ain t goin to sp ile him. "I seen him drivin by with the bank presi dent fr m over at Wollaston, this forenoon," went on the visitor. Showin him the lot, I s pose. He s makin some rich friends over there." BRANCHING OUT 63 "Most likely he is." "Well, I m glad lie s goin to build here, an not there. It 11 help the village to have a han some new house." 11 There goes George Burroughs," observed Jim, peering over his littered work-table through the dusty front window-pane. Looks kind o shabby, don t he ? Old, too. "It s your fault an mine ef he doos, Jim," spoke the other, Ezra McNamara, sharply. "What d ye mean?" demanded Mr. Briggs, astonished. "Where re you gittin your shoes now adays? "Why, at Harney s store. They re cheaper there. Ain t you ? "Yes. An so s other folks. But what d ye s pose George Burroughs is thinldn bout it?" "I can t afford to pay a quarter more a pair, jest to obleege George," said Jim defensively. "Nor I. But you d better look out, Jim. Next thing you know, Joel Harney 11 be sellin an repairin clocks an watches; an then where 11 you be?" "Gracious! I hope not!" exclaimed the somewhat slow-witted Mr. Briggs. He was much startled. "I never thought o sech a thing. Where d ye hear that?" 64 PROPHET S LANDING "I hain t heerd a word. But it might hap pen, y know," and Mr. McNamara departed, leaving Mr. Briggs in a very troubled frame of mind. George Burroughs was looking shabby, as they had said. His wife and Timmie were looking shabby too, a fact which worried him far more than his own condition. His heart was very heavy, as he made his way down the street and entered Harney s store. "Mr. Harney inside, Harry!" he asked. 1 i Yes, he s right in the back office. George Burroughs went in and closed the door. Mr. Harney was writing at the high desk. "Joel," said the older man, as he sat down slowly in the leather-seated arm-chair, "last fall, you said somethin bout takin my stock an lettin me come in here." Mr. Harney put his pen behind his ear, and in a leisurely way wheeled around to face his visitor. "I remember," he said. "Air ye willin to stand by your offer now!" " Certainly. " Mr. Harney s manner was not less considerate than ever toward his old friend, and yet there was an indefinable effect of distance. BRANCHING OUT 65 George Burroughs paused a moment. It seemed to be inexpressibly painful to him to say what he had come to say. "I 11 take it then," he said finally. "Very well," returned the other in com posed tones. ; I think you 11 find no reason to complain." "No, I don t expect to." The effort of ac ceptance once made, he spoke listlessly. "We re needing another man here," went on Mr. Harney, in quiet business tones. "I judge you 11 be just the one, George." "I hope so," responded Burroughs, still listlessly. "I 11 do my best. When d you want I sh d begin ? 1 i Whenever you can arrange it. "My store lease don t run out till the fust o September," explained Mr. Burroughs. "It s only the middle o May, now. "I 11 take the lease off your hands with the stock. I can use the place for storage pur poses during the summer. It 11 be quite use ful, in fact. "Fust o June, then?" "That will do very well. I m thinking of taking a little trip with the family somewheres, along in July or August; I rather need a few weeks rest; and I 11 be glad to feel that you re here, along with Joe and Harry. 66 PROPHET S LANDING Meanwhile, that 11 give us time to go over your stock and arrange matters." Joel Harney s handshake at parting was as friendly as always; yet George Burroughs, as he walked back to his own little store, bore himself as though he had met with a refusal rather than an acceptance. He closed his door behind him and turned the key, and went on into the small workshop behind. Here he stood for a minute, surveying his bench and scattered tools, the curling pieces of cut leather littering the floor, and all the familiar dust and disorder amidst which he had bravely and patiently toiled for so many years. A side window was open, and from without came the untroubled note of a robin as it rejoiced in the springtime. George Burroughs sat down at his worn working table, and bowed his head on his arms. VI LOVE IN IDLENESS IT was a brilliant June afternoon. Olive was at home once more, her school term having ended, and Steve Baird was taking her for a row on the river. The girl made a pretty picture, as she sat back lazily on the stern seat with her hat in her lap and the slanting sun lighting up her soft brown hair. Now and then she trailed her hand idly in the water, as the boat slipped along under Steve s easy, steady strokes. "This is nice, Ollie, " said the young man with satisfaction, his eyes resting on her ad miringly. He himself was good to look at, as his well knit figure swayed forward and back ward. He had taken off his coat and had thrown it behind him at the bow. "Is n t it?" assented the girl happily. Don t you always love June 1 "Remember that time we were rowing 67 68 PROPHET S LANDING across to Easthaven, one year!" asked Steve. 1 When it came on to rain, you know. Yes, indeed, said Olive, laughing. When I made you come back here and share rny um brella till the shower was over. Steve looked up at the clear sky. "I m afraid there is n t a sign of rain to day, he said, with mock lugubriousness. His companion laughed again. Mr. Thornton was right when he said, last night, that it was going to be a lovely day," she observed. "He wanted me to go driving with him. < < Why did n t you ? demanded Stephen. "Why, Steve! I d promised to come with you." Baird s brow had darkened a little. "I hate that fellow, he said sternly. "He never says anything against you, Steve," put in the girl reprovingly. He flushed. "I did n t mean it in that way, Ollie. You know I did n t. I would n t run a fellow down just because he the speaker stopped abruptly, and bent more vigorously to his oars. "I should n t want to see him going with you, even if He is n t going with me, she declared, far from offended, if the truth be told. He came LOVE IN IDLENESS 69 in to see us, last night, just as anyone could. n <Us !" grunted the rower skeptically. "Wanted to call on your mother and Jay, I suppose. Well, don t let s talk about him. I Ve got something to tell you, Ollie. Miss Harney looked rather alarmed at this announcement, and glanced up at her com panion in some perturbation. But Steve was rowing unconsciously on. "I ve taken a big step," he said. You have, Steve 1 What kind of a step 1 "Well, it s a step up, I hope," he rejoined, laughing. "It 11 be either a step up or a slip-up. I m going to change businesses." "You re not going away?" asked the girl in quick questioning. Even Steve, though not subtle, could not fail to detect the sudden note of dismay in her voice, and it filled him with gladness. "Oh, no," he said cheerfully. "Not while can help it. But Captain Prout and I have ar ranged to dissolve." The small capital which Steve Baird had in herited at his father s death, a few years be fore, he had put into the modest ferriage and lighter business which Captain Prout con ducted between Prophet s Landing and East- 70 PROPHET S LANDING haven opposite and other points on the river. Steve looked after the shore end of the busi ness, while his older associate continued as be fore to attend to the boats. "Why on earth are you going to dissolve?" inquired the girl, much surprised. 1 1 thought you were working very well together. "Well, we ve made a little something, of course," admitted the young fellow. He drew in his wet oars and allowed the boat to drift for a time. "And we re going to work to gether still. I ve bought the little old wooden warehouse at the wharf, and am going to tear it down and put up a bigger one. Olive waited with interest for further infor mation. "I can t make it much bigger, all at once," he went on, "because I have n t got much money, of course. But I m putting in every cent I Ve got, and whatever I can borrow be sides." "Is n t it risky, Steve?" * I don t think so. The old building is most tumbling down, and it has always been too small. I think the wharfage traffic is bound to increase. There s a whole lot of new business coming through to Wollaston lately. "Why is that?" LOVE IN IDLENESS 71 Steve laughed. "Those old fogies over there have always been getting most of their goods by rail," he said. * Your father, with his new store, found that he could make cheaper arrangements by water here through the Landing. And now that he s showed em the way, some of em are starting in to follow. "It s very interesting, Steve. It certainly seems as if it ought to be profitable. "It s bound to be," he asserted confidently. "I 11 be enlarging within a year. And I mean to grab for some of the freight hauling to Wol- laston too." He took up the oars again, and turned the boat to a wooded cove on the bank. "Let s go ashore and get a drink at the rock- spring," he pursued. "I m thirsty, with all this rowing and talking." The boat touched the shore, and Steve, leaping out and securing it, helped Olive to land. * I have n t got my cup, said the girl. "Make a cup of your hands." I don t want a drink myself, she said. "Then make a cup for me." "Oh, Steve!" she protested, laughing. "Please do," he begged. "I never could make one myself." 72 PROPHET S LANDING "Why don t you lie down and put your lips "Makes my head ache," he responded men daciously. "Please make me a cup." The girl laughed again, and after an in stant s hesitation, made her way to the edge of the cool, clear-bottomed spring, and pushing up her sleeves a little, plunged her hands in, and lifted them, dripping, with a double hand ful of water. Steve drank with avidity. "More, please," he urged. She brought him up another double handful. "That s the very best drink I ve ever had in my life," he said emphatically. "And the very sweetest, too." He gathered her hands into his own, and suddenly pressed his lips against the rosy wet palms. "Don t, Steve," she remonstrated. "You must n t." "I want to, Olive. I want the right to do it always. No, don t try to draw them away. Let me have them for mine. Ollie, you can t help knowing how much I ve always loved you and wanted you. There never s been any other girl for me. Now I Ve just got to tell you about it." His strong arm stole tenderly about her waist. But the girl gently drew away. LOVE IN IDLENESS 73 " Don t, Steve," she said again. "Don t let s think of such things, not yet awhile, any way. We re too young yet. I m just out of school, and you re only "Twenty- four next October," he asserted. "What s the need of putting things off?" "I d a great deal rather," she pleaded. "There re years and years ahead of us yet. Maybe you 11 change. "Huh!" he said incredulously. Maybe you will." * Maybe so, she agreed, to his manifest dis comfiture. "Do you mean Thornton?" he probed, rashly. Her eyes flashed. "Steve Baird! What a horrid thing to say! I don t mean anybody." She moved toward the boat in offended maidenly dignity. "Excuse me, Ollie," he cried remorsefully, coming after her. "I did n t mean it, of course I did n t. Please forgive me." She had paused as he came up with her, and his arm went around her again. She looked up into his face, smiling her for giveness. "I know you did n t, Steve. It is n t any body at all. You can be sure of that. Only, 74 PROPHET S LANDING let s leave things as they 1 are, for oh, for a good while yet. No, you can t kiss me." She slipped away, and ran on toward the rowboat. "I ought n t to have let you drink from my hands," she said laughingly, as she sprang lightly upon the bow-seat and stood poised there looking down at him. "I suppose that encouraged you, as they call it." Steve hardly knew whether to admit or deny this allegation. He knew only that she looked very arch and lovely as she stood there. "Don t say that you won t let me drink from them again," he said. "I shan t make any promises," she re sponded, turning and taking her place in the stern. "Push off now, and let s row home by the Point. The river s always so pretty, just there." The young man obeyed, and as they rowed back down the river, he wisely forbore further allusion to the incident at the spring, and turned again to the subject of his new venture, discussing it hopefully. Olive listened with close attention, asking many questions, and revealing something of her father s clear and prompt comprehension of business matters. As they approached the Point, an impulse came to her to stop at the Potters . LOVE IN IDLENESS 75 * I d like to go up and see Mrs. Potter, she said, looking toward the low stone house on the rising ground beyond the road. "And it s always interesting if you happen to meet Elder Potter himself." "We 11 ask him to give us his blessing," re marked Stephen audaciously, putting on his coat. 1 l Don t you dare do such a thing ! she com manded with energy. They stepped ashore, and strolled up the low bank to the road. Crossing it, they went in at the gate, and Olive knocked at the side door of the little house. It was opened, and a pleasant, motherly face was seen. "Well, dearie," said good old Mrs. Potter, who had known Olive from her babyhood; "glad to see you back home again. And, Stephen, you re looking well. Won t you come in I " "We only came up from the boat to see how you were, Mrs. Potter," the girl rejoined. "And to get a drink of water, please," put in her companion. "Nonsense, Steve!" reproved she, blushing a little as she spoke. "You re not a bit thirsty. Don t mind him, Mrs. Potter. 76 PROPHET S LANDING "We can always spare a cup of cold water," said the latter amiably. "Can I drink it the way I want it?" began the young man, with a teasing glance at Olive. "Because after this, I always " "Steve!" Olive said peremptorily; "you hush ! I don t know what s got into him, this afternoon, Mrs. Potter," she added apologet ically. "I think I can guess, dearie," responded that wise woman, smiling at them both as they stood there on the path before her door in the golden afternoon sunlight. "It does get into persons sometimes, and I m sure one can t always blame them," she could not help add ing, as she noted Olive Harney s fair face. A step was heard behind her, and her tall husband looked out at them from over her shoulder. His face was not stern and accusa tory, as Olive had last seen it, on the occasion of that family sleigh-ride, the November be fore. This time, the prophet s look was mild and benign. His eyes dwelt on the pair a moment in friendly greeting; then they rested on his wife. "We were young once, too," he said softly, as to himself. "It is a goodly sight." Olive flushed a little, once more, but her clear eyes met the old man s look steadfastly. LOVE IN IDLENESS 77 "You are young yet, I think, Mr. Potter, both of you," she said gently; "young in your love for each other. And that s the most im portant of all." The white-bearded old man smiled approv ingly, as he and his wife came out into the sunlight. A great peace was in his face, and his hand rested fondly upon his wife s shoul der. * You are right, my daughter, he said very simply. "And the Lord s greatest blessing to me is that in that regard we shall never grow old." The two still stood there, the hand of the one on the shoulder of the other, as Steve and Olive made their way down the little path to the boat. "Are n t they dear?" said the girl mus ingly, as the young man rowed with quiet strokes toward the village landing. "It s like a benediction to see them like that, Steve." "Yes, it is," he assented sincerely; and for the remainder of the short row they were both silent, though each knew that the other under stood. VII THE LAW OF CONTRACT IT had been with some hesitation that hon est old Martin Cass of Wollaston had consented to build Mr. Harney s new house by contract. "I hain t never done it that way," he said dubiously. "I know there. & some that do; but I never liked the idee." "That s the way I want it done," said Mr. Harney. "How m I goin to tell to a penny jest how it s comin out?" argued the builder. "Nobody kin. It s allers a kind of a guess. Either you 11 pay too much or I 11 git too little." "I m not likely to pay too much," Joel said quietly. "I d a sight ruther build by day s work. Then I know what I m gittin ." "Yes, but I don t know what I m paying." "I won t cheat ye, Mr. Harney." 78 THE LAW OF CONTRACT 79 The other smiled. "I m sure of that, Mr. Cass. We all know your reputation. But I have a good deal of expense and responsi bility just now, with this new store of mine, and I have to see my way very plainly." "Lemme do it on a percentage basis then," suggested the old builder. "We can agree on a limit. That s fair all around." "No, " said Joel positively. "I want a full contract, to cover everything. You are to sub contract for the mason-work, plumbing and painting." It was after much careful and anxious fig uring that Mr. Cass finally submitted his esti mate. Mr. Harney examined it attentively. "That will do, I think," he said. "I Ve had a couple of other bids, but in the main yours is the most satisfactory." "I would n t do it this way f r most peo ple," rejoined Mr. Cass. "I feel as ef my hands was tied down. But I Ve known you, an your good father before ye, Mr. Harney, an so I c n tell who I m dealin with." That is n t the way to put it, exactly, Mr. Cass. You must deal with me just as you would deal with anyone. Business is business. You have n t put in the time and penalty clauses, I see." 80 PROPHET S LANDING "I did n t know s you needed em. I hain t never failed to finish a job in good, prompt time. You need n t have any fears." "Neither need you, then." "An you want it down in writin ?" "Certainly." The builder considered. "Well, I don know s I ve any objection to that. T wa n t the question of time that boggled me so much. I know my men; they ve all worked with me f r years." The clause was added, as well as one or two more which Mr. Harney required; and in a few days, work was commenced. It was a choice lot which Mr. Harney owned, the choicest in Prophet s Landing. He had purchased it at a low price, years before, from a neighbor in difficulties, buying it partly as a good bargain, and partly with an eye to a time in the future when he might be prepared to build a home upon it. It was on a corner of the broad, shady main street of the village, a little below the centre of stores and traffic and small dwellings, and with pleasant glimpses through trees of the river to which it ex tended. The summer thus proved a rather busy one in building operations at Prophet s Landing. THE LAW OF CONTRACT 81 The Harney house slowly reared its skeleton frame above the firm brick foundations ; while, a little distance up the river, at the wharf, the demolished warehouse was giving place to Steve Baird s larger structure. As the months ran on, unexpected disturb ances developed in the building trade through out New England. It was one of the years when labor was restless. The financial panic of 1873, two years before, had forced wide spread cuts in wages everywhere, and the hoped-for "good times" showed no signs as yet of returning. Operatives grew discon tented, claiming that capital was keeping wages low long after the necessity had ceased ; and the discontent broke out in numerous strikes, local and unorganized but none the less obstinate. At the same time, for some un accountable reason, the price of building ma terials was rising steadily. The trades had not experienced such troubled conditions since the strain of the period which followed the crash of 1857 and which extended to the time of the Civil War. Steve Baird soon began to feel the trouble heavily. His step lost much of its confident springiness. He had made no blanket con tract for his building work, preferring to have 82 PROPHET S LANDING his builders do it by day s labor, and trusting to his own sagacity and to the experience of his friend Captain Prout, to obtain better re sults by this means. He was constantly on the spot, watching, directing, and often aiding in the work with his own strong arms. Every ounce and inch of material was scrutinized, and the young man knew that everything was being done to the best possible advantage. But the cost was mounting steadily. Steve went over the figures with his builders, and found that their statements of expense were absolutely correct. Then came a masons strike, which delayed matters, not only on this but on other minor work in the village; and before this strike .was settled, one arose among the carpenters ; so that days and finally weeks slipped by when not a trowel rang its metallic click against the bricks, and no cheerful sound of hammer or saw resounded within the un roofed building. Poor Steve was in despair. If the store house were not finished promptly, the whole of the autumn traffic, which promised to be large, would be hopelessly lost. Already the incon venience had been felt by the village merchants and those of Wollaston ; and Al Thornton, who had shrewedly perceived the opportunity, had rented a disused frame house near the wharf, THE LAW OF CONTRACT 83 and had proceeded to utilize it for public ware house purposes. Steve perceived that it would have been better to leave the old building standing and build the new one to adjoin it; but it was too late now. He did not for a time know who had rented the frame house near, for storage purposes, and in fact did not trouble to inquire, being too dispirited, and too much occupied with his own worries. The Harney family was away on a summer trip to the Massachusetts coast, and Steve found the days strangely empty without Olive. There was no one with whom he could freely talk save Captain Prout, who felt the keenest interest and sympathy in his venture, but who could not aid him financially beyond a certain small amount. At length, after one or two desperate interviews in Wollaston, Steve suc ceeded in borrowing additional money, giving a second mortgage at a ruinous rate of in terest. When Mr. Harney returned home, almost the first person to interview him was old Mar tin Cass. * I can t do it, Mr. Harney, he said bluntly. "Do what?" "Carry out that contract. Can t afford it. We 11 have to make it over." "Make it over!" Mr. Harney frowned. 84 "A contract is a contract. What s the diffi culty?" 1 Drive over to the new lot with me, and I 11 show you. My wagon s just outside. The builder drove Mr. Harney to the partly finished house, and they went over it thor oughly together, Mr. Cass explaining fully the obstacles he had met, and going into care ful figures. "So, you see, it 11 be all of seventeen hun dred dollars more," he finished, "and it s likely to run to two thousand. "I m sorry, Mr. Cass," responded the other. "We did n t either of us suppose you were likely to lose." " Course not," said the builder promptly. "An it d have come out all right as I fig- gered, ef it had n t been f r the rise in prices an these trade troubles." "Of course a good part of the loss falls on your sub-contractors. "I did n t make no sub-contracts." "Wliat!" exclaimed Joel Harney. "No, I ain t used to that way of workin . I went over it with the masons an plumbers an the rest, an found out what they cal lated on, an then I gave you my estimate." "I m sorry," said Joel again. THE LAW OF CONTRACT 85 "Yes, so m I. But you 11 have honest money s worth, ef it does cost ye a little more." "Cost me?" Mr. Harney s tone was cold. "How is it going to cost me any more 1 ?" Mr. Cass stared. i Have n t I jest shown ye that we 11 have to add seventeen hundred to the estimate!" he asked. Nearer two thousand, mebbe. "You Ve shown me a probable loss to that amount. I m sorry, as I said. But I can t see how it affects me. It took Mr. Cass a moment to grasp his meaning. "Do y mean ye re goin to hold me to that contract ! " he gasped. "Why, certainly, Mr. Cass. What else?" The builder stared again. "But I can t afford it," he said simply. "Seventeen hun dred dollars ain t much to some people, but it s a lot to me. I Ve had some private losses, this last year, an my wife s been sick, an so, the fact is, I Ve been gittin kind o pinched. I might help ye out a little by rig- germ a trifle closer on my profits ; but that s all I c n do." "Mr. Cass," said Mr. Harney s incisive voice, "I explained to you at the beginning 86 PROPHET S LANDING that I wanted to see my way exactly in this matter before we began. That s why we made the contract. That s what a contract is for. You were to take whatever risk there was. "Not these kind o risks, strikes an high prices, that nobody looked fur," objected the other. "Every kind of risk. If there s any loss, it 11 have to fall on you. I 11 abide squarely by the contract." Mr. Cass looked at him a moment helplessly. Slowly his face grew hard. "Then ye re playin the devil s game, after all, Joel Harney," he said bitterly. "I ve heerd folks say so, but I did n t b lieve em. I warn ye ye re losin more n I am by it." Mr. Harney was coldly silent. "Not money, I don t mean," went on the other, growing more aroused as he talked. "But things that mean more n money, things in y r own natur , that a man s got to keep ef he s goin to be a good man, the kind o man y r father was. I hain t happened to have much experience with this way of doin , somehow. I know it s reg lar an* common, down in the cities, but at Wollaston we ve allers done business in a fair an easy, give an take way, as man to man, an without THE LAW OF CONTRACT 87 lookin f r advantage. An it s a sight better an fairer way, too." Mr. Harney threw back look for look un yieldingly. "I shall look to you to carry out your con tract, in the time and under the penalties specified, was all he said. Mr. Cass s eyes blazed, and his manner grew more excited. "I 11 do it," he said vehemently. "I 11 stand to it, and I 11 shoulder the loss. An every stick an brick I put in will be as perfect as I c n git em. But I would n t want to live behind em in your place." "I think that s all, Mr. Cass," the other said, unperturbed. "I won t trouble you to drive me back to the house." Folk 11 know about this, Mr. Harney; I 11 tell em," warned the older man. "It s well they sh d know, so they won t git into the same box." "Why should n t they know?" returned the merchant contemptuously, as he turned on his heel and left. The indignant Mr. Cass was as good as his word, and before many days people in Proph et s Landing knew that the builder was likely to lose heavily on his contract. The 88 PROPHET S LANDING news reached Mrs. Harney, and she took it directly to her husband. "I can t make it seem right, Joel," she said with troubled voice. Why should we take ad vantage of another s misfortunes!" "There s no taking advantage, my dear," answered her husband, a little irritably. "It s a perfectly plain affair of business." "Business!" she repeated. "Why should business be different from other things ? Why should it harden men? It is hardening you, Joel." She looked at him, while tears stood in her eyes. "Nonsense!" he rejoined. "Am I any dif ferent with you and the children?" 1 No, you are not, and I am glad with all my heart. Promise me you 11 never be." He stooped and kissed her affectionately. "It s a safe promise, Ellen," he said smil ing. "What would I do or be without you all?" "But, Joel, about Mr. Cass?" she pleaded. My dear, if necessary, I am willing to give you the seventeen hundred dollars he says he s going to lose, and you can use it for charity or in any way you like. But this contract is a different matter. If I opened the door to such undoing of fair agreements, my business would n t last ten days." THE LAW OF CONTRACT 89 "I don t see why," she said uncompre- hendingly. Mr. Harney s eye fell upon the dress she wore. He reached out his hand and examined the fabric. "I thought so," he said. "That dress you have on represents part of a heavy loss to a Lowell manufacturer that you never heard the very name of." How was that ? she asked. "It s part of a lot that he was caught on, last fall, and had to sacrifice. There was a fire in the mills, and he had to have money at once. I gave a cash order for some of the stock." She looked down at the dress with a new and puzzled interest. "Everyone that bought any of the consign ment, some of it came to me, some went to the other stores in Wollaston, some went to Al bany and Troy and Hartford and Boston, I daresay, every woman wearing any of those goods because she got it cheap, is taking ad vantage of the Lowell manufacturer s mis fortune." "Oh, Joel!" she said, startled. "Don t you see, my dear, that business is a thing by itself? I m expected to carry out my contracts and make my payments to the 90 PROPHET S LANDING letter. And I have to expect others to carry out theirs." "Is it worth it, Joel?" she asked timidly. "I don t know that I understand you." "Is it worth it to lose I don t know how to put it things in one s own nature," she went on, with a curious echo of Martin Cass s own words. "Would your father have done quite the same ? "Affairs themselves were n t the same in father s day," replied he. "The difference is n t between father and me, I think; but be tween his times and ours." She shook her head. "There was business then, Joel, just as there is now. I Ve often heard your father talk of competition and of other people s un derselling him. But you know what he was." "Do you mean that I Ve changed?" he demanded. "Yes, I do, Joel. You won t mind if I tell you so? Husband and wife ought to talk frankly. You re just the same with all of us here at home, but outside there s a difference. I see it and I hear of it. And I can t tell you how it worries me sometimes." "Who s been talking to you about things they don t understand?" he inquired harshly. THE LAW OF CONTRACT 91 * Some of the sewing-circle old women, I 11 be bound." "It is n t anyone in particular," she re sponded. "I don t even remember that I Ve ever heard anything directly. But it s in the air. Oh, you know what I mean, though I don t seem to explain it very well." "Well, well, Ellen," her husband said, recol lecting himself and recovering his good humor, I think we can afford to let folks talk without getting uneasy. I Ve made a little money, and there are always people to be envious of that. As long as you and I know that I don t beat my wife, "Why, Joel!" she protested, shocked. He smiled. "You always take one so liter ally, Ellen!" He put his hand fondly on her shoulder, as Olive and Steve had seen Elder Potter put his hand on his wife s shoulder, that sunny afternoon in June. Well, then, as long as you keep on caring for me, and you do, don t you?" "Yes, Joel," she answered, almost as shyly as when he had first asked her that dear ques tion, so many years before. "Then I shan t worry very much about changing. You Ve been brooding a little, that s all." He kissed her again, and for a 92 PROPHET S LANDING little they stood there together in quiet, his hand upon her shoulder. "But, Joel," she pursued hesitatingly, about Mr. Cass." "That s a question of business, my dear," he returned, with a certain definiteness. "And you 11 have to leave questions of business to me." VIII NEW AND OLD EOADS MARTIN CASS held grimly to his work, and pressed the completion of the new house by every means in his power. He and Mr. Harney often met on the premises, but the builder made the intercourse of the brief est. He had evidently formed in his mind a deep distrust, even disdain, of Mr. Harney, and took little pains to hide it. Joel could not but perceive this fact. It did not alter his atti tude or acts in the slightest degree. Yet it affected him. It would be hard to say whether he felt annoyance or a vague discomfort. He was not used to censure, expressed or implied. Years of progressive business success had made him feel secure from it, though, as he now found , only in a measure indifferent to it. The house was not completed within the time called for by the contract, but that was no fault of old Cass s, who had pushed matters unre mittingly. He had paid whatever prices were 93 94 PROPHET S LANDING demanded, both for work and materials, had settled strikes by increased wages, had spent himself unceasingly in forwarding the work of the plumbers and painters. A certain fierce pride had taken hold of him, as of one who would ask no more favors. His whole manner seemed changed. It was two months after the appointed date when he finally turned over the completed building to its owner. The statement of ac count which he presented on the same day con tained the agreed deduction in price to be forfeited by him for each of the sixty days delay, as stipulated in the penalty clause of the contract. Mr. Harney sent him an immediate check for the balance due, without comment. The family was not to move in at once, it being deemed wise to wait until the walls and plaster were thoroughly dry. "I don t feel like moving in at all, somehow, Joel," said Mrs. Harney, who had of late been rather depressed in manner. I never really cared to leave this house, to begin with. And now this trouble with Mr. Cass has made me almost hate the new place." "Mr. Cass has nothing to do with the ques tion," said her husband impatiently. "He s NEW AND OLD ROADS 95 done his part ; I Ve done mine. We re quits. I m satisfied; if he is n t, I can t help it." "You don t know how I dread changing," she said again. "Why so?" It seems as if it was founded on a wrong. "Lord, Ellen!" he broke out; "if you and I are going about to right all the wrongs in life, we ought to have begun at Genesis. Wrongs ? The world s full of em, I suppose, if you look at it that way. But we can t right them all. Don t blame me; blame the Cre ator." "Why, Joel!" exclaimed she, amazed and offended. "There are wrongs everywhere. A cat wrongs a mouse when she takes its life. It s in the structure of things. You take that house question. Either Cass or I had to lose, say, a couple of thousand dollars. A fair and square agreement made him lose it, not I." * Perhaps he needs the money more than we do," she ventured. "For every dollar we have, there s some body somewhere that needs it more than we do," he retorted. "Where would you stop, short of my doing hod-carrying and your tak ing in washing in a shanty?" 96 PROPHET S LANDING I m not good at arguing in business mat ters, Joel," she returned. "But I can t feel that it s right, and nothing you can say would make me feel so." "You 11 like the house well enough, once you re in it, you 11 find," said he. "And as for Cass, he 11 make up that two thousand dol lars on the first innocent he finds." "No, he will not. All men don t think the same as you do," replied his wife, with a sud den sting in her usually mild voice, as she left the room. As Joel drove in to Wollaston, that morn ing, his thoughts were on a coming interview with the bank president, and his wife s un expected words held little place in his memory. An important project was under consideration. This was the construction of a short railroad branch from Wollaston to Prophet s Landing. Mr. Harney had long wished to see this built. His instinct told him unmistakably that it would be a highly profitable undertaking. The traffic to Wollaston by way of the Landing had languished since the main line of the rail road had gone through, north and south. Harney believed that this traffic was capable of considerable development. He himself had experimented with the matter in connection NEW AND OLD ROADS 97 with his new store, and the experiment had proved so satisfactory that other town mer chants had had their eyes opened and several had followed his example. With a line of rails, the route could be made a very important feeder. Wollaston was growing steadily, and the freight rates on the main line were not lessening but rather increasing, while the rates by water were always low. The railroad com pany had no objection to the building of a branch. It was entirely willing to act in har mony with such an extension, giving terminal conveniences and the advantages of mutual traffic agreements ; but it did not care to under take the enterprise on its own account. For the past year Mr. Harney had been active in advocating the formation of a subsidiary cor poration to build this three-mile feeder; and he had gradually succeeded in interesting capi tal. The new store in Wollaston had latterly brought him into growing financial promi nence, and he found his ideas and suggestions listened to with increasing respect and atten tion. Mr. Pierce, the president of the local bank, was now fully committed to the project, and Mr. Harney and he had had frequent inter views and consultations on the important 98 PROPHET S LANDING subject. The bank arranged to finance the venture. Officials among the main railroad s board of directors were found willing to invest personally, as also several leading business men in Wollaston itself; and a large block of the stock was to be disposed of by popular sub scription. When Mr. Harney left the bank, that morning, after a long interview with Mr. Pierce, he had learned with satisfaction that arrangements had been completed, that the charter had been obtained, and that work was to be started as soon as practicable. This announcement interested Prophet s Landing keenly. It held great promise for the sleepy little village, which at once awoke into anticipatory activity. The branch railroad, which might be counted upon to follow the line of least resistance near the main highway, would add to the value of land all along the route, and the prices of the tracts thus for tunately situated rose promptly in expectation. Several properties changed hands. The vil lage itself took on new life. Everyone beamed on Mr. Harney, who was regarded as the father of the enterprise and as a general bene factor. Steve Baird was jubilant. A line of rails piercing to the wharf at the river s edge meant NEW AND OLD ROADS 99 vast things for his new warehouse, that fi nally completed building, which, little to be used now till the cold weather should be past, held every dollar of his hopeful fortunes locked in its cold brick arms. Whether the railroad bought it, or was content simply to make use of it, he saw a safe profit. And so his step re covered its springiness, and he half uncon sciously beamed on Mr. Harney with the rest. "I wonder Joel himself hain t made any purchases along the line," speculated Ezra McNamara, in another chat with Jim Briggs in the latter s little watch-store. "Oh, well, I guess he s got enough other affairs to look after," Jim answered, screw ing his optician s glass into his eye as he bent over his work-table to adjust a balance-wheel. "He s willin to leave some o the plums to the rest of us." "You been buyin any land?" inquired his caller pointedly. "No, not exactly." Jim grinned. "I ve got enough other affairs to look after, too. But some have." " T ain t only close along the line," re marked Mr. McNamara. "It seems to have started up reel estate all about. Why, there s been some buyin an sellin even up as fur 100 PROPHET S LANDING as the ol road by Haines Woods, a mile north, the one that comes round by the P int. Now what on airth d ye suppose a body d want to snap up land as fur as that for!" "Don know, I m sure." Mr. Briggs was unimaginative, and did not spend his strength in vague mental conjectures. "Who s been doin it!" Nobody that anybody seems to know about. Well, Joel s doin a good thing f r the village, anyway. "That s true enough," said Jim. "Ef I c d collect some o the little accounts folks are allers owin me, I d buy a share or two o that stock." "Lots o folks re doin it," assented Mr. McNamara. They do say it 11 double in a year or so, Jim went on. "I guess likely. Joel Harney knows what he s doin . It s safe to f oiler where he leads, you c n bet. My wife, she s goin to take that two hunderd dollars her Uncle Wells left her, an buy a couple o shares on her own ac count." Mr. McNamara spoke with some pride, realizing that even if he did not have ready money, it was a cause for complacency that his wife should have. NEW AND OLD ROADS 101 Mr. Harney did not evince any sense of sat isfaction in his neighbors general approval. Of late he had come to withdraw himself more and more from the friendly intercourse of the village street. As his circle of business ac quaintances and connections in Wollaston broadened, he seemed to be less a part of the smaller circle of familiar friends in Prophet s Landing. More and more he kept his own counsel, and appeared less concerned in the personal affairs of those whom he had so long known. One would have said that they were ceasing to be individuals to him, and becoming only counters in the great game of life which he was learning to play with increasing skill and absorption. Only within his own family he was unchanged ; devoted to them all, and in stantly interested in all that interested them. Olive he praised, and Josie he petted ; while in Jay, his son and heir, his intensest hopes were centred. Albert Thornton now had his lodgings in Wollaston, where he held the management of the new store ; but he frequently came over to the Landing for an evening call at the Har- neys or a Sunday supper. In this he had the manifest welcome of Mr. Harney, who, a little vain of his knowledge of men, openly 102 PROPHET S LANDING predicted a successful career for the quiet, inscrutable young man. One Saturday, af ter the mid-day dinner, Mr. Harney said to Olive: Thornton s going to drive over, this after noon, to try that new chestnut he s bought. I told him to stop and take you for a ride." The girl looked up at him quickly. "Why did n t you ask me about it?" she questioned. "There was n t any opportunity. She s a good mare, though not fast. You 11 enjoy it." "I don t think I want to go," she said. Her father frowned. l I told him you would, so I think you d better," he returned. 1 Steve and I were going nutting. "That s about the level of Steve s accom plishments," he observed caustically. "Father!" remonstrated the girl. "I don t like to have you talk of Steve in that way. You don t half know him." "I knew his father, always at the corner saloon. What can you expect from the son?" Olive flushed in a tumult of resentment, but she forbore making Steve the subject of argu ment. "Did you know Mr. Thornton s fa ther 1 she asked. "Never heard of him. But I know Thornton NEW AND OLD ROADS 103 himself. That s enough for me. He s good, shrewd stock, you can depend upon it. "I m sure of the shrewd , sne gave back, a little maliciously. ; Well, papa, I 11 go driv ing, since you promised for me ; but after this, please let me accept or decline for myself. Thornton appeared at the hour arranged, and the two drove off in the direction of Haines Woods. For some time little was said. Thornton was not a talkative person, and Olive made no special efforts to sustain the conversation. Finally she said: "You seem to be much interested in looking at all this land, Mr. Thornton. I can t see any thing very pretty along this part of the road. He smiled secretively. "No, you probably would n t, Miss Olive," he answered. "I find it rather interesting." i l Do you often drive along here ? "Often." He checked himself. "That is, occasionally." "Some one was telling me, the other day, that the old Burnham farm we re coming to had been sold just lately," pursued the girl, more to make a little talk than from any real interest in the topic. "Two or three other tracts along here too. Do you know who have been buying them ! 104 PROPHET S LANDING He gave her a swift, furtive glance. No, not at all, he said. "I ve heard some talk of the kind, but I don t know anything about it." There was another silence. Thornton, when with Olive, always seemed selfishly contented in merely being near her, and made little effort to entertain her. The combination of retiring- ness and self-satisfaction which showed in his manner never failed to affect the girl repel- lently. She s a good mare, I think, he said pres ently. "She pulls hard, though. I ought to have put on the curb bit." "Have you had her out before?" "Once only, and that was in the town. But I knew she had a hard mouth. It s not much of a fault." "I suppose you don t get much time for driving." "Not as much as I wish I had," he re sponded meaningly. "The store s doing more than we ever looked for. Still, I often half wish I was back again, living in the Landing. Olive made no response to this, and they drove on along the edge of the great belt of woods at the north, finally coming out at a fork in the road, the left hand tine of which NEW AND OLD ROADS 105 led to Wollaston, while the other adventured farther into the open country. They took the latter, occupying an hour or more in making a circuit of familiar roads and lanes, and finally returning to the main route by which they had come. 1 What a pretty bush of sumac ! remarked Olive, as they passed along the wood road once more, on the way home. I always love those brilliant colors." "I 11 get a bunch for you," said Thornton, pulling hard on the reins and finally stopping. George ! this mare pulls ! Just hold the lines a minute, please." He stepped down from the high buggy, and went over to the straggling fence at the side of the road. As he did so, the mare started im patiently on. The reins were unexpectedly pulled from Olive s hand, and before she could recover them, the chestnut had taken the bit in her teeth and was moving briskly down the road. Hi, there ! stop her ! cried Thornton, turn ing from his quest and starting after the mov ing vehicle. "Pull on the lines, Miss Olive!" Olive had caught up the reins again, and was already pulling very hard , but to no pur pose. She was seized with a fit of laughter, 106 PROPHET S LANDING which was accentuated as she looked back for an instant and beheld the usually sedate Thornton hurrying excitedly after her, yet be ing left far in the rear. Olive was a skillful driver, and she was not in the least afraid. The animal was not precisely running away, although it was traveling very fast. There was no danger. Only she could not check the speed in the least degree, and they were two miles from Prophet s Landing. She was quite helpless, yet the knowledge of this seemed to make her laugh the more, even while she trem bled a little. The drive had been a dull one, and perhaps she felt an instinctive relief at this sudden interruption of the companion ship. "Saw the reins!" cried Thornton again, his voice sounding more faintly in the distance. Miss Harney sawed, and likewise tugged, but wholly without effect. Still she felt no alarm. Her cheeks grew pink with the excite ment and effort, and she sat straight, with in tent and eager face, using every device she knew to halt the inexorable mare. She threw another glance over her shoulder, and had a last look at Thornton, far behind and rapidly disappearing from sight. She laughed again. NEW AND OLD ROADS 107 How mad he must be!" she thought. "I wonder whether it s at the mare or at me." The animal was under control as far as guid ing was concerned, and Olive handled her skill fully. The buggy sped along the rather nar row road, and Olive knew that in a few minutes they would come out at the Point where the Potters lived, and where the road turned to the right along the river bank. Suddenly, not far ahead, she saw a man s muscular figure climb the fence from the Haines Woods belt adjoining, carrying a small sack over his shoulder. At the same moment the man caught sight of the approach ing buggy, with the girl pulling vainly on the reins. Dropping the bag, he ran along the road toward the carriage, and as the mare came determinedly though not very swiftly on, he shot out his hand at the bridle-rein and brought her to an imperative stop. "Oh, Steve!" cried Olive, leaning forward in relief yet in concern; "are you hurt?" "Who, I? Of course not. Are you?" "Not a bit." The excitement over, she laughed anew, a little hysterically. "What s happened? Where s Thornton?" demanded Baird, with a savage jerk at the bridle as the mare made an attempt to go on. 108 PROPHET S LANDING "Your mother said he had come to take you driving, so I went off for some nuts alone. Olive explained. "Lead the mare on till you can pick up your bag," she said. "Then turn around and we 11 drive back for Mr. Thornton." "Confound Thornton!" retorted Steve, as he led the animal on down the road until he could pick up the sack of nuts. ; l Let him walk. He ought to have known better than to leave you alone in the buggy when he had a new horse. "He did n t think she was going to run," answered Olive. "Turn around, Steve, dear, and drive me back ; there s a good boy. The young man s angry look gave place to one of sudden radiance as he heard the acci dental word which the girl was evidently wholly unconscious of using. Backing the buggy, he turned it in the other direction; then throwing in the bag, he sprang in beside Olive, grasped the reins, and drove off rapidly back along the road. 1 l If she was my horse, I d give her the whip good and hard," he said. "Well, I m glad you re all right, Ollie; you might have been in a fix if she d really taken a notion to run. One of his hands left the reins and found its NEW AND OLD ROADS 109 way to hers, which it clasped protectingly ; and the girl did not withdraw her own. 1 1 There he is, said Steve, as they discerned a far-off figure hurrying toward them. "Out of breath, and out of temper too, I guess. Hullo, Thornton," he went on bluffly, as they drove up; "here s your horse and buggy de livered in good order and condition, with contents as stated. Please acknowledge re ceipt, and oblige yours truly." Thornton scowled, as much doubtless at finding the two together as at this ill-timed pleasantry. He was out of breath with his long run, and had evidently been feeling very anxious. i i Did you get hurt, Miss Olive 1 " he panted, hurrying to the side of the buggy. "Not in the least," she replied reassuringly. "It was n t really a runaway, you know; only I could n t stop. "That s it," added Steve, springing out with his bag and hastening to the mare s head. "Get in and I 11 turn you." Thornton hesitated; his look was not friendly. "I m glad it s all right, of course," he said. "I suppose I ought n t to have left you alone in the buggy. You need n t get out, 110 PROPHET S LANDING Baird; there s room for three, if Miss Olive does n t mind." "Much obliged," responded Steve curtly. "I d rather walk. I was out tramping any way. Get in." The other plainly resented the peremptory tone, but he stepped into the vehicle, and Steve turned it again. i I have n t half thanked you, Steve, called Olive gratefully. "I suppose I rather took it for granted. "That s better yet," the young man called back, as the mare started. His eyes followed the buggy as it moved speedily on before him, and he began to whistle cheerfully. IX LINKS AND CHAINS "TTTELL, ef you asked me, Josie," said W Zenas Finlay deliberatively, "I sh d call it jest tarnal tomfoolery." Zenas was standing at the front gate of his farmstead, which lay at the beginning of the main highway leading to Wollaston. With him were his daughter Bessie, and Josie Harney who had come over to see her. The three were watching the movements of a small party of surveyors in the field opposite. "They can t make me b lieve that all their sightin an levelin is necessary in that flat piece o land b fore they c n build their rail road," the old man went on. "Why, you c d lay ties on a level like that by rule o thumb. They re jest puttin on airs so as to earn their pay." "They can t fool you, can they, Mr. Fin- lay?" said Josie, laughing. "Why don t you in 112 PROPHET S LANDING go over and tell them so? You ought n t to let them fool father and the rest, either. Well, I b lieve I will, returned Zenas un expectedly, and he opened the gate. "Pa! you must n t!" exclaimed his pretty daughter, horrified. "What would they think?" But the farmer was crossing the road, and gave no heed to Bessie s remonstrance. The two girls saw him lift down a bar in the low fence opposite and make his way toward the group in the field. "Oh, dear," sighed Bessie. "He is such a tease. Ma and I never can tell what he s going to do next. Pa! please don t!" she called. "I ought n t to have told him to," said Josie remorsefully, yet with the laugh still lingering in her bright eyes. "What do you suppose he 11 say to them?" Mr,. Finlay was seen in apparently serious conversation with the surveyors, and presently the one who seemed to be in charge came with him toward the house. "Now he s asking one of them here," groaned Bessie, dismayed. "And I ve got this old blue dress on. Oh, dear ! Let s run. "You shan t do it, Bess," returned Josie LINKS AND CHAINS 113 valiantly. That s one of the most becoming dresses you ve got. We can t run now, right before him like this. I think it s fun, any way." Josie was always adventurous. "I told this young feller it was all hocus pocus an they knew it," observed Zenas geni ally, as the two men came across the road. "An he says he doos know it, an he d like a drink of water. What did you say your name was, my son?" "I did n t say," responded the individual addressed, a young man with a frank, attrac tive face and a pair of merry blue eyes. "But it is Wether ill, Mun Wetherill. Mun is short for Munson, " he added explanatorily. "This is my daughter, Mr. Wetherill," said the farmer, waving his hand toward Bessie; "an that other girl, the prettiest one, is Josie Harney. This unconventional introduction had at least the effect of breaking the ice, and soon the four were chatting freely. " Is it your father who s done so much about building this branch?" asked Mun Wetherill, regarding Josie with interest. "Yes, father s been urging it for years. When do you think it will be started ? "We re pushing the surveys all we can. 114 PROPHET S LANDING This is my first experience," he added, laugh ing. "Is it really?" l My first experience in actual charge of real work. I only finished at the Boston Teck two years ago. The firm I m with have n t put me on field work till now." "It must be splendid!" said Josie enthu siastically. "I d love to be able to do it." "I m afeard you would n t git the rails straight, Josie," commented Mr. Finlay. "You re a leetle too slap-dash. Member the times you ve spilled Bess out cuttin corners, slidin down hill!" "Well, I always like to get there by the shortest way," admitted the young girl, smil ing at the farmer. "That s just what these rails are trying to do. If I were laying them out, I d put them on this side of the road, right through your house, Mr. Finlay. That s shorter than over there by the fields." "Make the ol front parlor a kind o way station, eh I" grinned he. "Ten minutes f r refreshments in the dining-room. Cow catcher stickin out the side door, while the train is waitin inside. Engineer loadin the tender fr m the kitchen coal-scuttle, an fillin the b iler fr m the pump at the sink. Conduc tor punchin holes out o the fam ly photo- LINKS AND CHAINS 115 graphs in the album. How w d your ma like all that, Bess!" They laughed at this unique and graphic w r ord-picture. "The shortest way is n t always the best way, Miss Harney, said Mr. Wetherill. But I m glad to know that there s a pump at the kitchen sink. "Gracious, I clean forgot that this young chap said he was thirsty!" ejaculated his host apologetically. "I should n t wonder ef I c d skeer up somethin even better n water." He disappeared in the house, and presently came out with a generous pitcher of new cider and some tumblers. "Are all those tripods and telescopes and chains and things make-believe, Mr. Wether ill?" queried Josie, as he handed her a glass which Zenas had filled. "If you will come over into the field with me, I can show you, said the young surveyor eagerly. "I think you would find it inter esting. "Oh, so I should! Come, Bess, let s go!" and after the cider was finished, the girls tripped off with their companion to the field. They all pressed Zenas to come too, but he de clined. " T ain t my field, over there," he said 116 PROPHET S LANDING dryly; "an I ain t partic larly interested in whether the railroad goes there or goes some- wheres else. I 11 leave it to Mun here," and he blandly watched the three depart. The explanations occupied a long time, and Josie went home full of interest, and with an animated description to give to her father. "Let s go over together, tomorrow, father, and watch them awhile, do," she begged. "Mr. Wetherill is so agreeable, and he ex plains everything." "Wetherill, Wetherill," repeated her father thoughtfully. "That s the name of the sur veyor they Ve sent, eh? Do you suppose that s one of the Wetherills of Worcester, Ellen?" "It s possible, Joel," said his wife. "He said he d been at the Boston Teck," added Josie. They re a fine family in Worcester, Mr. Harney remarked. "I know something of them. I 11 walk over there with you, tomor row afternoon, Josie, and we ll see how the work is doing." Mun Wetherill proved to be one of the Worcester family, and in addition Mr. Harney found him decidedly likable on his own ac count. He invited him to the house, and the young man was not long in finding himself on a friendly footing with them all. LINKS AND CHAINS 117 The presence of the surveyors along the ex pected route of the railroad gave additional impetus to the sales of tracts of land border ing the route. Zenas Finlay was perhaps the only one who did not concern himself either with selling or buying. "I m satisfied," he said calmly. "The road won t either help me or hurt me. Let well enough alone." Others were not of this philosophical mind, and several more parcels of land changed hands. Meanwhile, two or three further trans fers of property a mile north, along the Haines Woods road, which were quietly re corded at the county seat, attracted little attention. But the surveyors, after finishing their ex amination of the expected route by the main highway, were seen along the line of the upper road. The fact produced immediate excite ment and consternation in Prophet s Landing and Wollaston. "What are they doing up that way?" every one demanded, much mystified. "They can t be meaning to run the line along there. " T is n t much if anything longer, when you come to think of it," commented an observer. "The main station s at the north end of Wollaston, and it s about as near to 118 PROPHET S LANDING the river from there by one route as by the other. Mun Wetherill, when interrogated, could throw no light on the matter. After complet ing the first survey, he had received instruc tions to make this second one. Mr. Harney and the others of the small board of directors of the new company refused to make any state ment. "It s a trick, that s what it is, declared a Wollaston man who had been buying heavily along the first route. l They wanted to throw us off the scent till they could buy up the land along Burnham s farm and the Haines road. You 11 find the best of it has been all picked up. This in fact was found to be true. And fol lowing on the heels of this discovery came the official announcement that the railroad would follow the northern route by Haines Woods. There was vehement indignation among those who found themselves nipped in their speculative purchases. Several of them faced considerable losses, for they had paid high prices for tracts of little intrinsic value and now found themselves unwilling possessors. Mr. Harney and his associates were roundly scored. LINKS AND CHAINS 119 "I 11 bet they re the ones that bought Burn- ham s and the other places along by Haines Woods," bitterly asserted the Wollaston man who had stigmatized the whole transaction as a trick. "Those strangers that did the bar gaining and the buying and recording were just dummies acting for them." Joel Harney said nothing, but he did not deny that he was the real owner of some of the land that had been unostentatiously pur chased along the new route. Another owner, more unexpected, proved to be Albert Thorn ton. Olive heard of the latter fact, and promptly confronted Thornton with it on the occasion of his next call at the house. "Why, yes," he said, with a satisfied smile. "I suppose I must plead guilty, Miss Olive." "But I asked you, that day of our drive, if you knew who were buying those tracts, and you said you did n t know anything about it." "That was business reticence, you see," he explained lightly. The girl eloquently looked her indignation. "Business reticence does n t require a man to tell a falsehood," she said in open scorn. "Olive! Why, my dear!" exclaimed her 120 PROPHET S LANDING startled mother, who was in the room. "You must n t speak like that." "Miss Olive is n t used to business," re marked Thornton, trying to smile, though his face had paled. His closely-set eyes avoided the girl s straight gaze. The word seemed to arrest her attention. "Business," she repeated, as if it suddenly brought a new meaning to her. "Business. Is that what business is, Mr. Thornton 1 ?" "All business is n t the same," he replied warily. "I don t know what you re re ferring to. Yes, you do, she contradicted bluntly yet rather absently. She seemed to be looking be yond the man at the method. "Is that what you do at the store 1 "Eeally, Miss Olive," began Mr. Harney s manager rather resentfully; "I don t think you quite "Oh, well, never mind," she said, interrupt ing him. You Ve given me several things to think over, somehow. Let s talk about some thing else. Does the chestnut mare still pull ? He winced uncomfortably at this allusion, and the talk was rather forced during the rest of his call. "Yes, mamma, I know I was rude," con- LINKS AND CHAINS 121 fessed Olive penitently, when the front door had closed behind him. "After all your years of gentle teaching, too ! And yet I don t seem to feel a bit conscience-stricken. Tell me, mamma: is business like that, as he said?" "He said all business is n t the same, dear," rejoined the elder woman, in a tone that seemed to tremble a little. "Well, most business, then. Does it have to be tricky and tell lies? or cruel and make people lose money?" She paused, while a nearer and more terrible question forced it self to her lips. "Does she began, "oh, mamma, does father s busi She could get no further, and sat staring at her mother with wide and horror-stricken eyes. And then, to her amazement, Mrs. Harney dropped her sewing, pressed her hands to her face, and burst into uncontrollable tears. "I don t know, Olive!" she cried, rocking miserably back and forth. "Oh, I don t know!" X BY THE GEAY RIVER GEORGE BURROUGHS was visibly fail ing in health. He appeared years older than when he had surrendered his little shop and had taken a position in the large store. Day by day, those who saw him go by from his house punctually at seven in the morning, and saw him returning home at noon or again at night, noticed that his step was heavier, his thin form more bent, his face more profoundly sad. He was not working harder than he had been wont to do. Indeed, his hours were shorter and his work was lighter than they had ever been. Nor was he earning less, but rather more. Mr. Harney always made it a point to pay adequate wages, and not to overwork his clerks. It was sound business policy, he con tended. Susan Burroughs and Timmie were not looking shabby, any more, nor was George himself, though it was still necessary for them to live closely and to count the pennies with 122 BY THE GRAY RIVER 123 care. But it seemed that the old shoemaker s spirit was strangely broken. He attended to his duties faithfully, waiting on customers not only in his own department but elsewhere in the store, when needed, with the same gentle and friendly interest that he had always shown. Yet there was a listlessness about it all, which he could not conceal, and which spoke pathetic things to those who understood. His wife grew more and more worried over his condition. She knew or guessed the reason for it all, and her heart was heavy and her spirit sore. She no longer dropped in to visit with Ellen Harney in the old familiar way. Her position seemed in some subtle way differ ent now, and her attitude and intercourse changed accordingly. The change was shown even as regarded her neighbors, who found that they saw much less of her than formerly. On her husband she lavished a desperate devo tion, devising tonics and strengthening foods, reading to him in the evenings at home, watch ing over his comfort in every way that her anxious solicitude could suggest. Mr. Bur roughs appreciated her care, and was grate ful for it. I don know how I sh d ever git along with out you, Susan, he would say, as he sank into 124 PROPHET S LANDING his cushioned armchair at the close of the day s work. "You never shall, George," the troubled woman would reply, her voice brave but her eyes often very moist. Sometimes, when Timmie had gone to bed, and she had been occupied for awhile in the kitchen, she would come back and find him sitting silently, not reading, but looking dully at the wall before him. At her entrance he would rouse himself; but often a long, uncon scious sigh would tell of the dispirited thoughts within. At about the time when the announcement of the railroad route was made, Mr. Burroughs fell ill, and found himself unable to go to the store. It was in mid-autumn, and the weather was unseasonably sharp. Mrs. Bur roughs put on a wrap, and hurried over to the low stone house at the Point. 1 You re the only one I wanted to go to, Mrs. Potter," she said, as that motherly woman made her come in ; and she told of her husband s illness. "He says t ain t anythin much, an he s right, as fur as that goes. But I d almost ruther it was somethin much, than to have him the way he is. BY THE GRAY RIVER 125 "You poor Susan," said the elder woman, with a note of pity in her voice. Mrs. Potter, and her husband, whom many half superstitiously called the prophet, went into the village but little. Yet the couple never kept themselves aloof from the little community s joys and troubles, and their cheer or their consolation had given peace to many. They knew well the story of George Bur roughs, and they had of late sorrowed much over it. Mrs. Potter went home with Mrs. Burroughs and made a long morning s visit. Her pres ence brightened the aging shoemaker visibly. In the afternoon, her husband himself went to the house ; and rarely a day passed thereafter without one or the other making a little call of comfort. The venerable potter did not know how nearly trouble of another sort had come to affecting his own home. When the surveyors had finished their examination of the second route for the railway, their report recom mended that if that route were adopted, the rails should be carried directly out to the Point itself, reaching the river there. This would involve the destruction of the Potters house, which lay in the path. There were certain 126 PROPHET S LANDING engineering advantages in touching the river at this place, where the bank was high and firm, and where the projecting point would some what protect boats from the pull of the cur rent; and Wetherill and his associates, who had of course no special interest in the old couple or even much knowledge of them, ad vised this plan. The Wollaston men among the directors, as well as the two or three ad ditional ones from outside, had no objection to the proposal. But Joel Harney vetoed it per emptorily. "That old house has been a landmark for two hundred years," he said. "The village takes its name from the landing there of the man who built it. You know his descendant lives there now. I should n t be willing to have his place disturbed under any circum stances." Mr. Harney s voice in the councils of the group was authoritative, and the surveyors were instructed to curve the line toward the southeast before reaching the Point, so as to come out at a spot on the bank farther down the stream, though this spot was still fully an eighth of a mile or more above the already existing wharf. Meanwhile, Stephen Baird, at the announce- BY THE GRAY RIVER 127 ment that the line was to follow the Haines Woods road, had experienced a stunned dis may. This was an overwhelming reverse to his warehouse enterprise, into which he had put so many hard dollars and so many high hopes. At first he had been incredulous ; but he had soon found that the news was true. It meant the sudden and utter loss of all he owned, for the structure that he had built was of no value for any other purpose, and he was personally on paper for payments still due upon it. It was a staggering blow. "What s at the bottom of this?" thought Steve hotly, as he returned from an agitated walk to the new spot chosen for the wharf. "It s more than an engineering idea; there s something deeper in it. Then a quick thought came into his mind, and he stopped abruptly in his walk, while his eyes stared out at the river and his teeth clenched themselves tightly. "Thornton, by George!" he said to himself. There flashed into his mind many things, incidents, half forgotten pictures, allusions lit tle noticed at the time, which now coalesced into an unmistakable conclusion. He recalled the underlying antagonism which had always existed between himself and Thornton, in- 128 PROPHET S LANDING creased tenfold by their rivalry in regard to Olive. He remembered the incident at the Thanksgiving entertainment, a year before, when he had given Olive his arm to conduct her to the stage, and he saw again Thornton s look of black hate as he pushed him aside. He recollected the more recent adventure of the runaway mare; and the scowl with which Thornton had greeted his pleasantry on that occasion threw a new light on the man s atti tude toward him. He reviewed numerous other incidents, all pointing to the same thing. Steve disliked Thornton heartily, but he had never cherished accumulating and evil grudges of this sort. With him an unpleasant incident was forgotten when it was over. His dislike was not based on incidents, and had not thriven by them. But Thornton s was a different mind, and Steve now seemed to follow his workings with startling clearness. Then came another and more dazing thought, what if Mr. Harney himself had not been unwilling to second Thornton s plan? Steve knew that Olive s father had never liked him; and while the young man was sorry for this fact, it had never given him very deep concern. He was living an honorable, hard working and ambitious life; his mind was BY THE GRAY RIVER 129 healthy and his conscience clear ; and the hos tility of another man, based as he knew on hostility to his father before him, did not greatly distress him. So far as Olive was con cerned, he did not feel that her father s hos tility bore upon their relations at all. The centuries were past when fathers shut up their daughters in guarded towers to prevent their marrying the men of their choice; and Olive was not a girl to stay shut up in a tower, even had her father attempted to put her there. As long as Steve was making his way, fairly and squarely, in the world, he felt cheerfully inde pendent of hostility and of opposing parents. But this this was a mode of attack which utterly bore down his defenses. To make him penniless was to make it impossible for him to ask Olive to share his life, and her father and Thornton knew it. A blow from behind! and no way to return it in the open. The man s teeth clenched them selves again, as he stood there alone, still gazing unseeingly out at the river, gray and sullen under a clouded sky. The world seemed suddenly to have turned against him. The de pression which he had fought against during the past summer, when strikes and high prices had threatened his enterprise so perilously, 130 PROPHET S LANDING closed down upon him in tenfold heaviness. He felt beaten now. Beaten! Who said such a thing? Steve s head went up, and resolve came into his face once more. Never! It only meant beginning anew, that was all. Where and how, he could not say, but that was a detail. He strode on along the road. Then came a surge of swift, fierce anger at the men who had done him this intentional wrong. Chiefly it centered on Thornton, whom he guessed to have been the real instigator. And yet, how prove the fact? His quiet, fur tive enemy would not admit it, of course. Steve could not very well accuse him or thrash him on general principles. Mr. Harney was doubt less perfectly ready to assume any responsi bility and declare the project of the new landing-place to have been his own. Perhaps, indeed, it was. Perhaps it was, after all, purely and simply a business proposition,. and had nothing to do in intention with him or his warehouse or his fortunes. Perhaps Thorn ton had never thought of wishing or doing him ill. But instinctively and conclusively, Steve knew better. He seemed to see in a clear light. His stride slackened, and his angry expression BY THE GRAY RIVER 131 slowly settled into one of deep and anxious deliberation as to the future. In the distance, coming toward him along the river road, he saw a tall, white-bearded man. It was Elder Potter, returning from an after noon visit to George Burroughs. Steve was in a mood when he needed a counselor or at least a listener. The kindly face of the patri arch, as he had stood at his door with his hand upon his wife s shoulder, and had looked be nignly upon Steve and Olive, that June day when they had been rowing, came vividly to his memory. The old man had in fact always been kind to him, and Steve felt that he was his friend. Mr. Potter approached, and at his fatherly, half inquiring greeting, Steve s lingering re serve vanished, and he spoke out all his trouble. They stood there on the quiet road, while the young man talked, and the elder one heard him more comprehendingly than he knew. Mr, Potter, whether or not what men called a prophet, had all of a prophet s stern insight into the wrongs and sorrows and evil tenden cies around him, and there were few under currents of the village life and opinions and happenings which he did not know or seem to divine. 132 PROPHET S LANDING When Steve had finished, in a burst of vehe ment anger against the men whom he believed to have wronged him, his companion stood gravely silent for a minute. "My son," he said finally, "when you sup posed that the railroad was to come to your warehouse, did you think it planned as an act cf kindness to you!" "No, sir, of course not." i Then why think the other route planned as an act of enmity?" Steve was silent for an instant. "It s different, sir," he said, unconvinced. "I know, I know," said the old man, smiling a little. "You think mine no argument. Nor is it. Yet this much it may suggest to you, to think the better thing till you are sure of the worse. "The whole proceeding looks shady, though," argued Baird. "All this deceiving people while there was buying and selling of land going on; all this tr " "The times are out of joint," broke in his companion with a sudden earnestness. "Do you think I have not been observing things as the years flow over my head? Nay, I tell you, I see and note all; more than you see and note, my son. Tell me: those BY THE GRAY RIVER 133 who sold their land at a profit, do they criti cise the change of line 1 < Why, no, no one that I Ve heard, replied Baird, with an involuntary laugh. "And 1 Ve talked with several of them. They think it was rather a smart operation. The ones that lost are the ones that are pitching into Mr. Harney and the directors." * I know it well ! And there lies the danger, danger to the community, to us all ; not in the loss or gain of a few dollars. To condone the wrong when it profits, and to condemn it when it does not, is that the sound conscience, think you? Profit is a dangerous god to wor ship, yet he dazzles the eye, as did Aaron s golden calf or the gleaming images of Baal and Astarte. One man among us is setting that god high, and others are beginning to worship it." Steve was silent, struck with surprise at this outburst. He had never heard the old man talk in this fiery strain before. "It calls for sacrifices, human sacrifices," went on the other; "and he who worships kills and offers! He destroys before it the bodies and lives of others. And his god mocks him, and ends by destroying the worshiper s own soul. So went the Israelites ever and 134 PROPHET S LANDING anon after strange deities, and there arose prophets to warn them. There will yet be need here of a prophet s voice!" The speaker paused, his tones solemn as crgan-notes and rich in passionate fervor. At the last, he seemed to be speaking rather to himself than to the other. "I have come from a house where one of the victims sacrificed to this man s god is ly ing in sickness and sorrow," he said, after a moment. The good husband and father there is nearing the end of life; you are at its be ginning. Do not fear that you will be another sacrifice; you are young, you are strong, you can escape from the enemy s hands. Pray only that you may never be led to sacrifice others." He ended, and stood looking at Steve with a look august and yet benign. The young man did not speak. He felt strangely moved and thrilled. The old man put his hand upon the ether s shoulder with a silent, kindly pressure, and passed on his way. XI MR. and Mrs. Zenas Finlay and Bessie were giving a young people s Hallow e en party, two evenings later, and Steve went with Olive. On the way to the house, he said nothing to her of what was on his mind. He did not wish to mar her girlish enjoyment of the evening, and so reserved what he had to say until they should walk home. "Glad to see ye both," said Zenas hos pitably, at the door. "I was jest speckilatin as to who on airth Olive w d come with." I held Steve off for awhile, hoping that you would be the one to invite me, Mr. Finlay," returned the girl laughingly. "I would have, only my wife gits so blamed jealous. B sides, I could n t leave the house, this bein our party, ye see." "We re on time, Mr. Finlay," said Steve; "I hear your clock striking inside." 135 136 PROPHET S LANDING "Yaas. What was those lines you sang once? It struck twenty- four, as he entered at the door With a blooming and beautiful bride. There, go along in, both o ye. Seems to me, your face is lookin kind o pink, Olive; Bess 11 lend ye a little chalk or rice-powder or whatever she uses." "Why, Pa Finlay, I never use a thing!" indignantly exclaimed his daughter, who had come to the door only in time to hear this last remark. l How do you do, Olive ? and Steve 1 Come right in. She drew them inside. Put your things on the hat-rack or anywhere. Where s Josie ? "Oh, she s on the way with Mr. Wetherili," returned Olive with a smile, as Steve helped her take off her things. "Oh," said Bessie, with an answering smile of comprehension. "Dear me, how we re all growing up ! " She led them into the square, old-fashioned parlor, where her mother greeted them, and where they found a few other early arrivals. Other comers soon followed them, and the room was gradually filled with a merry group. HALLOWE EN 137 The carpet had been covered with an old linen drugget, and presently Zenas brought in a tub of water, and there ensued some hila rious " bobbing" for the red apples floating within, with no little resultant drenching of the hair and neckwear of the young men par ticipating. Stephen Baird in particular dis tinguished himself by determinedly pursuing one of two very large and agile apples which no one else had succeeded in bringing out. Several times he lifted his face, dripping and breathless, without the coveted fruit in his teeth; but only to plunge after it anew. Fi nally, after a desperate chase into an angle at the very bottom of the tub, he brought it out triumphantly. "Good for you!" cried the others, clapping. "Why, Steve, you re just soaked!" ejacu lated Bessie. Here s a dry towel ; and pa 11 lend you another collar if you want it." "It s the dickey I keep to wear Sundays," remarked her father; "so you 11 have to be keerful with it, or I won t be able to git to meetin , this Sabbath." "You did that well, Baird," put in an ad miring voice, that of the young surveyor, Mun Wetherill, who had of late come to feel much at home among the young people in the com- 138 PROPHET S LANDING munity, and who seemed to like everyone as much as everyone obviously liked him. "You believe in never giving up, I see. I tried for one of those two apples, without getting it; but I m not going to be beaten like that ! So here s for a high dive. He plunged his head deep into the tub of water, chasing the remaining apple. His face was under so long that one or two of the on lookers began to be alarmed, not feeling sure whether his violent bobbings and splashings were in quest of the fruit or were due to a struggle for breath. But finally he emerged triumphant, like Steve. "There, I feel better!" he panted, seizing the towel which some one held out, and pro ceeding to dry his head and face. Miss Josie, I brought that up for you. Hope you won t mind the marks of the teeth." 1 i Oh, I 11 cut a long peel, and see what ini tial I 11 throw," responded the young girl, joyous with the spirit of the evening. "Throw ing peels is next, is n t it, Bess 1 With a fruit-knife she made a long, contin uous spiral of the apple-skin, and poising daintily in the middle of the floor, threw it over her left shoulder. "That s a Z, I jedge," commented Zenas Finlay, looking down at it critically. HALLOWE EN 139 " Oh, it is n t; it s a W ," asserted Etta Betts. 1 i You re standing on the wrong side, Etta ; it s an M from over here," contradicted another of the girls, Lena Grimshaw. Either M or W is first-rate, Miss Josie," whispered the blue-eyed surveyor in high satisfaction. "I m so glad I bobbed for that apple." "You try, Bessie," said Hollis Heywood. "Please throw an H ," he pleadingly added, sotto voce. But Bessie s apple-paring could be made to resemble no known letter. "Never mind, Hollis," observed Mr. Finlay soothingly. "Dreams an apple-peels some times go by contraries. Whose turn next?" The fun went on, with mirror-gazing, lead- melting, uncovering a ring in a mound of flour, and various other hilarious pastimes esteemed at Hallowe en. Then some one struck up the Virginia Reel at the piano, and all promptly formed in line, Zenas leading the dance with his reluctant wife. "We 11 never be as young ag in," he said, as he led her to the head of the line. Thornton had not taken part in all of the games, contenting himself often with looking cm. His nature was not convivial, and he often found it difficult to enjoy what others were 140 PROPHET S LANDING enjoying, though he consistently made a pretense of doing so. He met Steve s eyes fixed fiercely upon him several times in the course of the evening. At first his own eyes fell, but later he returned the other s gaze de fiantly. Supper came now, in the big kitchen, where the fire glowed whole-heartedly from the long range, a good, appetizing supper, of biscuits and butter, and preserves, and hot coffee, and cookies and crullers, and gold and silver cake, and a fresh supply of apples, and some of Mr. Finlay s famous sweet cider, which was as in nocent as water. They played question games, sitting there in the jolly circle, and then trooped back to the parlor for a final dance, which ended in a boisterous romp. * Well, J Ve been to lots of parties, at home and around, commented Mun Wetherill, as he and Josie walked briskly homeward, her little gloved hand tucked into his arm; "but this one beats them, every one. What fun you all have here!" "Are n t you glad you came surveying that railroad?" queried she archly. f I should say I was ! I wish your father d build some more. Is that your sister and Baird, way ahead of us there ? HALLOWE EN 141 It was, and Steve had been talking to Olive earnestly and rapidly. "And so I m going away," he finished abruptly. "Steve! You re not, really!" He felt her start, and then move closer to him, clasping his big arm as if to hold him near her. "What else is there to do? Nothing here. I m not going to clerk it in Prophet s Land ing, not for anyone," he added half signifi cantly. "I don t know where I m going, but I Ve got an uncle in Boston, and I 11 have a talk with him." "But your interests here: the warehouse, and Captain Prout, and and your friends," she said breathlessly. "What about them all?" "I m on some notes for further payments on the warehouse, said Steve grimly. * I got them extended for three years yesterday ; it s a Wollaston man, and he s a friend of mine, and I told him just how I was fixed. He was very good about it; though after all, he saw it was either that or lose em altogether. And the warehouse can stand there; it won t move. I wish it would." He spoke with bit terness. "But, Steve!" The girl clung to him, not 142 PROPHET S LANDING seeking to disguise her distress. Ahead of them, along the dark road, they heard the merry voices of groups of the returning fun- makers, laughing and calling to one another. Mun and Josie, behind them, had slackened their gait and had now dropped out of sight. " Steve! You have n t told me. Do you think this was was intended?" "How do you mean?" Intended by anyone against you. He was silent a moment. I have n t said so, he evaded. "No, but Her eyes opened wide. "Oh, Steve, it could n t be. No one could be so- so-" "There, Ollie, " he interrupted soothingly. "Of course not. It s just an unlucky happen ing. Why should anyone trouble to bowl me over like that?" But his fist closed tightly in the dark, as if answering his own question. The groups ahead scattered down the vari ous village streets with loud good-nights ; and no further sounds were heard as the two came up the path to the Harneys front door. Steve opened it. "Good night, Ollie," said the young fellow gently, as he turned to go. "We 11 see each other before I leave, of course. HALLOWE EN 143 A sudden impulse seized the girl. * Steve, she said. He turned instantly. "Yes?" She moved near him, and put her hand on his arm, looking up at him with her truthful eyes. "I I 11 wait for you, Ste\e, " she said. "That is, if you if you still" He caught her hand and pressed it fervently to his lips. "Oh, Ollie!" he breathed. "As if 1 could change ! But it s different now. I must n t ask anything." "You need n t," she said, with a little joy ous smile. " I 11 understand without it. Good night, Steve, dear. She slipped into the house, the door closing softly between them, and he was in darkness. He stood for a moment where she had left him, aglow with a rush of feeling. As he went down the path and out along the village street, his step was buoyant, and the hopefulness of youth and love was beating in his breast. On the walk, a little beyond the gate, he met Josie Harney and Mun Wetherill, coming toward the house ; but his greeting was preoc cupied, and in fact he seemed scarcely to notice them as he hurried on, his mind in a tumult. 144 PROPHET S LANDING As lie turned into the main village street, the form of another man was seen moving on, a little ahead of him. It was Thornton, who had just been escorting one of the other girls home, and was returning to the McNamaras , where he often occupied a room for the night when it was too late to drive back to Wollaston. It took Steve, deep in absorption, a minute or more to realize who was ahead of him as the two moved on in the same direction. When he did, he suddenly quickened his pace. l Hold up, there, Thornton, he commanded abruptly. "I want to talk with you." The other turned at being thus addressed, and his mien was anything but friendly as the other came up with him. "Is that railroad game your doing?" de manded Baird, without preface. Thornton eyed him. The deep-lying but concealed enmity that he had long felt for the man whom Olive manifestly favored sprang for once into open manifestation. "Yes, it is," he retorted vindictively. "I hope you like the way the game s been played. The physical passions of each were surging violently to the top. Thornton was not of a belligerent nature, choosing rather to work by HALLOWE EN 145 more devious methods; but to-night some un controlled impulse made him throw all re straint to the winds, and he faced Baird, his chest heaving. "It s the game of a cur and a scoundrel," said Steve hotly, beginning to throw off his coat. "Where did you learn it?" "In the corner saloon they say your father used to go to." Baird made an inarticulate cry, and lit erally leaped at his adversary, his arms still entangled in his coat-sleeves. Thornton shot out viciously with his fist, felling the other to the ground, and then, mad with a rush of rage, flung himself on his defenseless antagonist and hit him, once, twice, as he lay there. Quick steps sounded along the walk, and Thornton was seized by the collar and jerked violently off from Steve, who was still strug gling to free himself from his coat. 1 You infernal coward ! cried Mun Wether- ill excitedly, as he stood panting and glaring at Thornton. "Is that your idea of a fair fight? I don t know what you fellows are fighting about, but by Jove, it is n t going to be done that way." Baird was on his feet now, his arms freed at last, and Thornton stood alert at the same in- 146 PROPHET S LANDING stant. Neither took the slightest further no tice of Wetherill, but met in a reckless storm of furious blows. Thornton, ordinarily a quick and wary boxer, threw caution to the winds, and so the fight was suddenly over, for he went down heavily under a terrific right hander from Baird. The latter stood over him, breathing sharp ly. Steve s own face was bleeding, but he did not know it. He was tingling with eagerness to have Thornton rise and come at him again, so that he might repeat that blow, repeat it again and again. The other slowly rose, but he made no effort to attack Steve again. "Two against one, eh!" he sneered, getting out his handkerchief and wiping his bruised cheek. "Is that your idea of a fair fight?" "I was n t in it, and you know it!" blazed Wetherill, striding up to him. "And you can have it out with me alone, any time you re ready. Thornton gave a short laugh, and picking up his hat, brushed past the two without further words and moved on down the street. So that s the sort he is, is it 1 " commented the surveyor, looking savagely after the re treating figure. Where have I ever seen that HALLOWE EN 147 chap s face? I d swear I Ve met him before. Well, you punched it good and hard, Baird. He seems to have jabbed you some, too." I only got in that one good punch," said Steve regretfully. He was still breathing quickly from the excitement. "Why could n t he stand up some more? Did you hear what he said?" "No, and I don t need to," returned Mun with a laugh. "It s your quarrel, not mine. But I was bound it should be fair play." "Much obliged," said the other briefly, putting on his coat. "Going my way? No? Well, good-night, Wetherill." The two shook hands and parted. xn POISON" IVY DIRECTLY after breakfast, the next morning, Olive sought her father alone. "Steve Baird is going to leave town," she said. * Is he ? " asked Mr. Harney coolly. "Yes. He told me so last night. Father, it s that railroad. It will ruin his warehouse business, and he has put all his money into that." "He was foolish to put all his money into such an enterprise." "Father, did you know this was going to hurt him?" The clear, direct question found no instant answer. Mr. Harney was rather astonished at his daughter s examining him in this straight forward way. He was not only astonished but annoyed; possibly also disconcerted. POISON IVY 149 "I am not accustomed to having you speak to me in that way, Olive," he said with sharp ness. "I want to know about it, father," she said imperatively. Then her tone changed. "Oh, tell me, do," she pleaded, coming to his side. "I feel sure that you could n t have known. I want always to love and admire every thing you do, and I just have to hear from your own lips that this is only an unlucky hap pening, and that you can maybe change it even now. Usually Mr. Harney was quick to reach out a hand and draw his daughter affectionately to him when she came near him; but this time he did not. "Has young Baird been insinuating things to you!" he harshly asked. Olive stepped back and drew herself up. "No, he has not," she said with emphasis. "Steve Baird is not the man to insinuate things, and if you knew him better, you would know that he is n t. " "I know him well enough," returned Mr. Harney ; and if you care for my view of the subject, I m perfectly willing that he should leave town." The girl bit her lip. 150 PROPHET S LANDING "But, father, you have n t answered my question. "I don t intend to answer your question," said he tartly. "I don t know where you get authority to question me about the matter at all." " Oh, father!" She made a farther step back, as if avoiding a blow. He had never spoken to her in that tone before. "Business matters are my affair," he went on with peremptoriness. "I keep you and your mother and sister and brother in clothes and spending-money and a good deal of com fort. I want you all to stay in your sphere, and make me and each other satisfied in re turn. That s enough for you to do, if you do it well." "But, father," the girl s face tingled, but she spoke with proud restraint, "we are n t dolls; mother and I are n t pets or children. You forget that I m grown up. I have a right to talk with you about things." "You have no right at all," he said angrily. "I do precisely what I deem best in life. If my doings were wrongful, which they are not, you would not be the one to call me to ac count. One would have said that there was a note POISON IVY 151 of disquietude, of self-exculpation, under the angry tone, a note strangely at variance with the gradual stiffening or hardening of the man s character in recent years. Was it that an unrealized conflict was going on, had per haps long been going on, within him! Were the forces of Ormuzd contending with those of Ahriman f But Olive did not hear such a note. She was generally sensitively alive to elusive impres sions, but now she was too much engrossed with the outer purport of the conversation to discern any counter indications below the sur face. She stood regarding him in silence, and there came into the girl s face a look of with drawal, a stiffening or hardening, which seemed to correspond to that in his. Father and daughter had never before, even mo mently, stood thus apart. "Whenever Steve Baird is in a position to ask me to marry him, she said, in clear, quiet tones, "I think he will do so. And he knows already that I shall tell him yes. She turned and left the room. She found her mother in the dining-room, putting into a small basket some boned chicken and a jar of jelly to take over to the Bur- 152 PROPHET S LANDING roughs house. Mrs. Harney had heard of George s illness, a few days before, with a quick and poignant sympathy, and since then she had made daily visits to the house. She had a feeling of deep concern for this illness of his, a feeling which was not all explained by the fact that George was an old and once intimate family friend. There was in it even a vague sense of responsibility. That Susan Burroughs had not sought to see much of her in late months was now unnoticed or forgot ten, and Ellen Harney and she came again into close and sisterly relations. "I d like to walk over with you, mamma," said Olive. "I want to tell you something about Steve; and perhaps I can see Mr. Bur roughs too, for a few minutes. He is quite broken down. Poor George ! said her mother. "I don t know when I ve seen anyone change as much as he has, since since he She did not finish the sentence, but her daughter had no need to ask what she was about to say. Each divined what was in the other s mind, though they forbore to formu late it in words. There had of late been a change in Mrs. Harney s mental attitude toward her husband. POISON IVY 153 Questionings, doubts, accusations, were in her mind, where before had been implicit confi dence and admiration. Only slightly, almost imperceptibly, had these feelings betrayed themselves even to her own thought, and she had tried to put them resolutely aside. Her love for her husband was an unchangeable fact in her life. It had never in the old days been complicated by any feeling of criticism or condemnation. All that he did had been right in her eyes. Their family life had been close and sweet. But of late, many thoughts had arisen which disturbed her strangely. Sometimes in talking with Joel, she would try wistfully to lead to matters lying heavy upon her heart, longing for the simple explanations which she hoped could be given, and which might clear her misgivings away. But the things of which she wanted to talk were those of which he would not speak. Such things were business matters, he would say de cisively, and they were not in her province. He became, as it were, stony on this one sub ject; and sometimes his wife fancied that he was trying to stifle reflections of his own in stifling discussion with her. Thus, almost unperceived, certainly unad mitted, there had come into the Harney family 154 PROPHET S LANDING a breach, a lessening of the full and joyous mutual understanding and sympathy which had heretofore existed. The breach was slight, very slight; and Mr. Harney himself did not heed it, and for a time perhaps scarcely saw it. But none the less, dividing thoughts were there. Mr. Harney, driving over to the Wollaston store that morning behind the speedy ponies, did not dwell long upon the talk that he had just had with Olive. Too many other things were in his mind, on his drives to Wollaston and at other times as well, to leave much space for these matters of home relations. His busi ness interests were broadening constantly. He had now bought the store building, which he had previously rented with an option of pur chase; and already he had found it necessary to improve and enlarge it. The store was al ways thronged with customers. On dull days, when retail trade in the town was generally slack and the other stores were half empty, Harney s was as busy as ever. The energies of Thornton and himself were taxed to the ut most. New clerks, new sub-managers, were added; and constantly and progressively the business continued to respond to new develop ments. POISON IVY 155 The other merchants in the town could not understand how the firm of J. Harney & Son was able to sell goods at the low prices it ad vertised and still make money. These prices were often less than the actual cost of the goods to other dealers; and this held true on so many lines of late, that it seemed impos sible to explain it by concluding that the profits were all made on the remaining lines. Some of the stores in Wollaston were finding themselves half empty not only on dull days but on other days as well, and already two or three old-time dealers were feeling the pinch of strenuous and merciless competition. None knew that Joel Harney s present close relations with the management of the great railway line which ran through Wollaston, and which had other great lines allied with it, had opened a secret door to advantages which they were not given. Mr. Harney had come to be the heaviest retailer in the place; his monthly freight payments formed an important item in the budget of the road s local business, and he was able to show the railroad people that it might be largely increased if favored rates were granted him. Moreover, he was able to use as a club an argument touching the haul by wagon from the landing on the river. This 156 PROPHET S LANDING haul he had been able to make less costly than that by rail, and he had plans pending for an independent boat service which would still fur ther lessen it. The division traffic manager saw the point; and an arrangement was at length perfected in the quiet of the manager s private office, in the large city farther up the line, whereby Joel Harney came into a posi tion of impregnable and destructive mercan tile advantage. A new commercial pace was set for Wollas- ton. Its business men gradually realized that another order of things had come. The old easy-going, friendly methods, half of compe tition, half of co-operation, had become impos sible. An element of keenness, relentlessness, warfare to the knife, had been injected. Some of the stores were not able to follow the pace. Their owners could not adapt themselves to ways of fierce combat at their time of life and with all their traditions against it. They could only stand by and look hopelessly on, dimly perceiving that their trade existence was doomed to slow but remorseless extinction. Others, however, and these were the greater number, were not of the nature to surrender their position without a struggle. They set themselves to follow Joel Harney s methods. POISON IVY 157 They did not know his quiet, strategic com pacts with the railroads and with the big jobbers and shippers, and in so far as these were guessed at or asserted, they were promptly denied by the interests concerned. But Mr. Harney s rivals vigorously pressed for opportunities to gain advantage them selves. They suspected unscrupulousness, and were not unwilling to meet it with the same weapon. This disposition spread rather rapidly to other branches of trade in the town. The stim ulation was felt all along the commercial line, like an electric shock. But the stimulation was not simply toward more enterprising yet still straightforward methods; it was toward un sparing, predatory warfare, the silent strug gle in the dark, the deadly knife-thrust in an other s back. Even the little village business centre over in Prophet s Landing was showing significant signs of the same change of standard. Some people criticised Joel Harney and his methods ; not a few suffered because of them ; but many envied him at heart, admiring his extraor dinary success, and these stood ready to emu late it if possible by whatever means. "There s p ison ivy growin among us," 158 PROPHET S LANDING declared Ezra McNamara, in earnest conver sation with his pastor, Mr. WMtehouse. But the latter was an inefficient and conven tional man, and he saw nothing. "We will all pray that it be rooied out," he said piously. xin STKESS AND STORM IT was a still and lowering day in early December. The air was unseasonably, unnaturally warm. It was one of those un usual days that may come in any of the sea sons, when all nature seems disturbed and apprehensive, when something vaguely omi nous seems impending. The sky was yel low, and once in a while a gust of restless wind eddied suddenly down from the bare tree-tops. Mr. Harney had driven home for dinner as usual, after his morning in Wollaston, and soon after the meal his wife came to him with a written message in her hand. "Joel," she said, Susan Burroughs has just sent this. George is dying." "Dying!" he said, greatly startled. "Yes. I am going over right away. And, Joel, I want you to come too." 159 160 PROPHET S LANDING " Dying?" he repeated. "Why, I did n t know he was as sick as that. "I Ve felt for some days that he was a very sick man," she said simply. "You remember I Ve said so two or three times." "Yes, but I did n t exactly realize it. He did n t seem to have any specific ailment, and I supposed "Come," she said quietly. "Let us go over at once. Mr. Harney half mechanically went into the hall for his coat, feeling strangely disturbed. When his old friend had first been confined to the house, he had gone in to see him once or twice to express his sympathy; but latterly he had left the calls to his wife, being preoc cupied with many other matters. Little was now said as the two walked hurriedly down the village street to the Burroughs home. "I m glad to see ye, Ellen," said Mrs. Bur roughs in low but agitated tones, meeting them at the door. "And Mr. Harney too," she added with a certain effort. She had been wont in other days to call him Joel. He noted now, with a sudden odd, ob scure pang, the change in the name. How is he 1 " questioned Mrs. Harney anx iously. "He s very low. The doctor s just been STRESS AND STORM 161 in, an is comin again in an hour. Mrs. Pot ter is here, been here since morninV The visitors followed Mrs. Burroughs into the little sitting-room. She looked worn and exhausted. Mrs. Harney put a loving, sup porting arm around her. "Oh, I can t believe it, Ellen," the shoe maker s wife sobbed. "I can t believe he s going. How can I ever do without him 1 "Don t, Susan, dear," grieved the other woman softly, her own voice a little broken. "Perhaps he will be spared to you yet." "His time is n t come, Ellen; it is n t right ly come, uttered Mrs. Burroughs, clinging to her and crying unrestrainedly. "George is only a little older n Joel. Why should the good Lord take him from us now?" Swift and strong emotions were beating in Joel Harney s breast, as he stood there by the two in silence, in sympathy, in real sorrow. Few men could be unmoved in such a scene, and this man had much in him that was warm and human. The door of the bedroom adjoining was quietly opened, and Mrs. Potter came out. She greeted the three with a smile of motherly peace and sympathy as she went on into the kitchen. May I go in f " whispered Ellen Harney. 162 PROPHET S LANDING Susan nodded, and the other went into the bedroom. Mrs. Burroughs sought a chair and strove to compose herself. Little by little her noiseless weeping ceased. Mr. Harney re mained standing. Neither spoke. It seemed a long quarter-hour before Mrs. Harney again appeared in the doorway. He wants to see you, Joel," she said, as she came up to her husband. He bent his head in silent assent, and passed into the inner room. George Burroughs, lying in the bed, made a feeble movement to turn his head in welcome. His thin hands were outspread on the counter pane. His face was pale with the pallor of death, and his breath came quickly, in short, strained gasps. The outline of his form under the bedclothes showed that it was shrunken to emaciation. He seemed to be literally wast ing away. "I m glad to see ye, Joel," he whispered, speaking slowly and with effort. I knew ye d come in ag in b fore I b fore I went." Mr. Harney could not tell him that he was there only at his wife s reminder. He was greatly moved. He came to the bedside, and took one of the thin hands in his. "Don t talk about going, George," he said, STRESS AND STORM 163 with an attempt at outward cheerfulness. "We 11 have you out of this yet." The other shook his head faintly. "I m afeard not," he answered. "Or no," he went on, "not afeard, exac ly. I m ready to go, I guess." t i There s a very fine doctor I know, over in Wollaston, " said Mr. Harney, as he sat down in the little cane chair at the side of the bed. "I 11 have him in consultation with the doctor here. I ought to have thought of it sooner." 11 1 m ready to go, repeated the other list lessly. "I m done. Juice is all dried up. It s nobody s fault but mine, I s pose." Mr. Harney s keen, firm features and his vigorous bodily health made a striking con trast to the appearance of the man before him. Mr. Burroughs noted it instinctively. "Your springs ve got temper in em still," he observed. You ve got things ahead of ye to do, things to plan, things to accomplish. That s what keeps the temper in a man s springs. I m glad fur ye, Joel." It was a moment before Mr. Harney spoke. "George," he said, "I can t tell you how sorry I am to see you so sick. I asked the doc tor, only the other day, and he said there was no organic trouble. 164 PROPHET S LANDING "No, I don know as there is," assented the other. "What is it, then!" "Nothin that c n be helped, I guess." Mr. Harney s memories went back to other years, when George Burroughs, slight in form always, but with a certain cheerful springi ness of step, used to pass along the village street to and from his shop. There was a kindly sprightliness about him which was very winning. His gentle pleasantries fell here and there among his friends, and even as he worked at his bench, a customer coming in would often find him whistling to himself and enjoying it. Then Mr. Harney s thoughts ran on to the day when the shoemaker came to his store to ask if it were really true that he was to open a rival department. He remembered clearly the droop in the older man s shoulders, as George went out of the store with a brave effort at an unconcerned parting remark. He had often remembered it uncomfortably in the interval, but had always put the thought away. And then, the time in the spring following, when George had come to accept his offer of a position. He had not noticed the droop so much then, perhaps because he would not no- STRESS AND STORM 165 tice it. And since that time, his intercourse with his old friend had been formal, commer cial, defensively impersonal. He felt a sense of impatience as these thoughts came into his mind, seeming to accuse and sting him while he sat looking at the prostrate figure before him. Why should the matter come back upon him, Joel Harney, in any way? What had he done, other than a strictly legitimate act, and afterward even a friendly one ? What blame was there in that? Why should anyone blame him! Why should he blame himself? And then, curiously underneath, there ran that strange current of hostility always felt by the wronger toward the wronged, which both gain said and fortified his stiffening mental atti tude. George Burroughs saw naught of all this, as he lay there in his weakness. His heart was not cherishing anger or bitterness, only sor row, though it was sorrow for himself, and sorrow for one s self is often the most grievous of all. He was glad that his friend and neigh bor had come in to see him for a last word, and he was willing to go back to the equal status of years ago. "No, there s nothing the matter with me that c n be helped," he repeated, rather ab- 166 PROPHET S LANDING sently. "But I m sorry f r Susan an little Timmie. I have n t done anythin much in life, but they don t mind that, an they 11 miss me. "Don t trouble about their being taken care of, George," said Mr. Harney. A flash of remonstrant protest, such as had flamed in Mr. Burroughs s eyes on the after noon when Joel had first proposed the change of position, came into them now for a moment. I did n t mean it that way, he said sharply. "I never asked charity, an they won t. Susan s got the house, an a little money that s her own; an she s got her folks to go to, over in Easthaven, ef she needs to. I only meant that they 11 miss me, jest f r myself, not the wages I make. "I beg your pardon, George," said the other, almost humbly. I did n t mean to hurt you." His heart seemed to have suddenly softened, despite himself. He leaned forward, nearer the figure on the bed. He was experi encing unaccountable variations of feeling, alternating rapidly between melting and freez ing. Violent and contrary emotions of which he had hitherto had little conception seemed at war within him. "Joel," said the dying man, speaking with STRESS AND STORM 167 increasing effort, yet eagerly, "there s some- thin I want to say to ye, an it ain t about my self or the others, but it s about you. It s to tell ye to be careful where ye re goin ." Mr. Harney sat erect again. "I m sayin it because I care f r ye, an allers have. An this is a time when one man c n say things to another. Oh, Joel, be careful where ye re goin ! I m afeard f r ye, I m afeard f r ye, an I Ve got to speak it out." There was no response; the sick man s words seemed as arrows against armor. "I remember your sayin once that nobody c n stay still in life; they Ve either got to move forward or backward," lio pursued, with earnestness, even solemnity, "But I don know but what a person c n go forward an yit backward too. His own forgotten words came back startlingly to Mr. Harney. They came as a message from the dying, with a new and warn ing interpretation. Involuntarily he pushed back his chair a little. If deep feelings were stirring within him, his face and voice gave no sign as he answered: "We must n t talk about these matters now, George. Wait till you get better and stronger. 168 PROPHET S LANDING He reached out and soothingly took the other s thin hand once more in his own. ; There s been no going backward with you, old friend," he was impelled to add. The shoemaker closed his eyes and was silent. The door opened, and Mrs. Burroughs came noiselessly into the room. "George," she said, coming to the bed; but he did not answer. His breath-gasps had be come fainter. "George!" she said again, in alarm, stoop ing over him; and slowly, with infinite effort, he raised his arm and put it around her neck, as he opened his eyes and smiled, and spoke to her. Mr. Harney had risen, and now he moved out of the room with hushed footsteps, leaving them together, husband and wife. hour later, Susan Burroughs, dry-eyed and as yet unrealizing, was sitting in her rocker in the sitting-room. Mrs. Potter was bringing her a cup of tea. Joel and Ellen Harney were still there. The thoughts of them all were in the darkened bedroom and on the still form there that would never stir again. "Thank ye, Ellen," Mrs. Burroughs was saying dully, "but I don know as there s anythin more to be seen to, right now. Tim- STRESS AND STORM 169 mie 11 be back with the undertaker in a few minutes." She mechanically drank the cup of tea which Mrs. Potter placed in her hand. "How about your folks in Easthaven?" asked Mrs. Harney. "I wish they c d know this afternoon, of course. But they 11 git word early in the morning." "Mr. Harney and I will go over and tell them, this afternoon," Ellen said. "Yes, yes, certainly," added her husband, glad to feel that he could be of service, and perhaps glad too of an opportunity to have something active to do, to still his restless thoughts. * Oh, you must n t, " protested Susan. " I c n send word. "Of course we 11 go, Susan. We 11 stop at the house and have Olive come over to stay while I m gone." Joel and his wife said little as they walked down to the river wharf. He had rather dreaded their walk together, fearing lest his wife might speak of George and of his rela tions with him. It was the topic uppermost in her mind, as he well knew. But Mrs. Harney was gifted with a rare sagacity, and she felt instinctively that this was not a time to speak. 170 PROPHET S LANDING Whatever had been said between the two men in that solemn hour of death, she could not add to it, but might possibly take away. They crossed the river in the small wherry which, belonging to Captain Prout, plied hourly between Prophet s Landing and East- haven opposite. The gray of the water and the murky, yellow sky made up a gloomy picture. Once there was a sudden menacing illumination in a distant cloud-bank in the west behind them, followed by a low, sullen rumble. "What do you make of this weather, Dave?" asked Mr. Harney of one of the two boatmen. "It looks to me as if something was brewing." "Brewing fast, sir," said Dave, steadily putting his strength into his long sweep. "If I can tell the signs, we re going to have a tornado or something before dark." "Before dark?" asked Mrs. Harney appre hensively. "Yes, m. Have you noticed how warm and close it s been today? And did you hear that thunder just now, over to the west ard?" "We don t often get a thunderstorm at this season of the year," commented Mr. Harney thoughtfully. "I don t remember more than one or two since I was a boy." STRESS AND STORM 171 "Nor I," said Dave, who was a man of nearly the other s age. "They were fearful ones, though." Mr. Harney glanced at his wife, not wishing to have her alarmed, and said in an indifferent tone: "Oh, well, this may switch off to the north- ard. Here we are, Ellen." The wherry touched the Easthaven landing-place. * We 11 be here at five, Dave, to go back. They delivered their message in Easthaven, and later made their way again toward the pier. Mrs. Burroughs s relatives were to come over on the next trip. It had grown rapidly darker, and a few large drops of rain splashed down. The bank of clouds in the west had rolled higher and had grown blacker, and now and again lurid flashes shot from it. "Perhaps we d better not cross back yet, Ellen," Mr. Harney said. "The storm may break, any minute. We can get supper at the hotel here." "Oh, no," she said; "I d rather go home. I don t mind a wetting; I brought this water proof cape, and you Ve got your umbrella." "It looks like more than just a wetting," commented Mr. Harney dubiously, as they found their way in the darkness to the landing, 172 PROPHET S LANDING where the wherry s lantern was burning. "How is it, Dave?" "That you, Mr. Harney?" The man helped them in, and they took their seats in the stern. "Dick and I were just saying that something big s going to happen." Sure you want to go, Ellen 1 her husband asked. "Yes, yes," she said a little impatiently, and the men pushed off. The wind was coming down in sudden, vicious sweeps, and the river, already beginning to rise in commotion, seized upon the craft instantly with a warning vehe mence. The two passengers became aware of a third, a man sitting at the other end of the boat. He was looking intently ahead, absorbed in the scene s wild grandeur and gloom, and had not spoken. A flash of lightning revealed his identity. "It s the prophet!" whispered Mrs. Har- ney, who, like all the villagers, had throughout her life thought of him by that august name. "Yes," rejoined Joel. "He often comes over to ship some of his wares from here. Whew, how it blows ! The boatmen were laboring hard, but were finding it almost impossible to keep their STRESS AND STORM 173 course. There was not much rain, but the wind drove down fiercely from north and west, and they had to fight well upstream to resist it. Mrs. Harney had folded her great army cape about Joel as well as herself, for an umbrella was of no use in the savage gale. * * Look out ! yelled Dave suddenly. Hold hard, everybody!" The storm that had already been raging had been but a forerunner. Like a cannon-shot the tornado now burst upon them. The wind roared like a demon of destruction, and a broadside caught the wherry and careened it violently. Two or three express packages on a seat were seized by the blast and sent fly ing as if they were card-board. The river boiled up around the boat as if by some vol canic eruption. Overhead, Heaven s artillery opened fire, and flash and crash were incessant. The fury of the outburst was tropical in its mad attack. Mrs. Harney clung tightly to her husband, alarmed though without panic. She was glad to have his strong, rigid figure to cling to. The boatmen had been forced to stop rowing for the moment, and the boat was driven help lessly backward by the sweep of the gale. In front the lightning revealed the white-bearded 174 PROPHET S LANDING figure of the old potter, sitting motionless, and gazing straight ahead, intent and unafraid, at the tumult of wind and wave. "Keep her head up, Dave!" shouted Dick, the other boatman, desperately struggling to get a hold on the leaping water with his long oar. With tense exertion the men succeeded in getting the wherry under some steering way, but they could make little progress for ward. "Oh, Joel, what a terrific flash!" cried Mrs. Harney, and she was answered on the instant by the boom of a deafening peal of thunder, which was echoed and re-echoed ere it went rolling away, drowned out by the shrieking wind. "That struck somewhere near!" shouted Mr. Harney, holding firmly to the boat s side with one hand, while his other arm clasped his wife. And in confirmation, a dull red glare showed itself on the western side of the river ahead of them, where the houses of Prophet s Landing stood, seeming to huddle together as if crouch ing for shelter. "Where is it! Can you see what house it is?" cried Mrs. Harney in swift anxiety. They peered fearfully through the gloom, lit up by STRESS AND STORM 175 frequent sheets of light, but for awhile could not distinguish the spot that was struck. The prophet had risen, regardless of the im minent danger of being blown overboard, and now stood motionless, still gazing forward, and seeming to the strained imagination of the others to be discerning all things in the vista ahead. He even appeared, as Mr. Harney strangely fancied, to be commanding the storm, as he thus faced it, magnificently master of himself and of the elements. " Thou makest the wrath of man to praise Thee, suddenly came his sonorous tones, in a lull of the driving wind. "Look, Joel Har ney, look again ! The dull glare had quickened now, and mounted into flame and blaze. The boat had forced its way nearer to the shore, and on the instant the others saw where the doomed building was. Joel, it s our new house ! exclaimed Mrs. Harney. It was true. The imposing new frame dwelling, as yet unfurnished and unoccupied, was in the grasp of the fire, and the flames were shooting up more fiercely with every moment. The wind was lessening a little, as the 176 PROPHET S LANDING tempest swept eastward in its course. But the river was a wild chaos of tossing waves. You have broken up the homes of others, came the old man s trumpet tones again, i and your own shall be broken in expiation! The spirit of the dead is abroad in the storm ! Joel Harney was seized with an uncontrol lable terror. For a moment he clung to his wife, as she had been clinging to him. Then he recovered himself, and sat erect again, out wardly stony. Slowly, painfully, as the storm spent itself, the boat struggled on toward the bank, head ing toward a spot far below the regular land ing. It struggled on, while the prophet stood with arm outstretched, and Joel Harney fixed staring eyes on the scene ahead. And the flames that were devouring the house of his pride rose higher and higher into the black ness of the heavens. XIV STOCKS IN TRADE BOTH the death of George Burroughs and the burning of Joel Harney s new house made a profound impression in Prophet s Landing. That the two events should have happened on the same day made the impres sion deeper. More than one of the villagers seemed rather superstitiously inclined to re gard the latter event as in some way connected with the former ; for many openly laid the real blame for the shoemaker s breakdown at Mr. Harney s door. Everyone knew too of old Martin Cass s loss on the house contract, and there were some who vaguely felt that the burning of the house held also something of retribution on that score, and perhaps of warn ing as well. Mr. Harney, however, permitted himself to be influenced by no such superstitions. The house had been fully insured, and as soon as 177 178 PROPHET S LANDING the loss was adjusted, he took steps to rebuild. The contract was given to a large Hartford firm of builders; work was promptly started with the opening of the spring, and the new house, with its formal central stoop, its man sard roof, and its stiff "cupalo," was com pleted a few months later. Mrs. Harney had strongly opposed the pro ject. Her original reluctance to move into a new home had been intensified by the accident of the fire. But her husband decisively over rode her protests, and in the course of the year the family left the old house and took posses sion of the new. Much new furniture had been purchased to accord with its requirements, and much that was old and familiar was left behind in the old house, which remained unoccupied. For a long time they all felt .an uncomfortable sense of unwontedness and stiffness in their new possessions. For Mrs. Harney, the home feeling seemed wholly gone. Often when she was out, she would slip down the quiet side street, insert her key in the front door of the old house, and spend a wistful half hour among its silent and happy memories. The Wollaston & Prophet s Landing Bail- road was completed in due time, and trains began running regularly, the locomotive STOCKS IN TRADE 179 whistle breaking the age-long stillness of Haines Woods, and the bell sounding un- familiarly as the cars crossed the northern end of the village main street on their way to and from the new wharf at the river s edge. The stock had been floated at par. and had been very generally subscribed for in small amounts by the residents of Prophet s Landing and Wollaston and of the neighboring country. The treasured two hundred dollars of Ezra McNamara s wife was but one of numerous small sums invested in this attractive under taking. Joel Harney was known to be the foster-father of the enterprise, and was presi dent of the company that had been formed; and his name and endorsement alone were suf ficient to inspire everyone with confidence. Dollars that had long been toilsomely accumu lating in the little village homes or in the industrious farming households of the neigh borhood were gathered together and ex changed for one or more of the crisp, handsomely engraved certificates issued by the new company. The hopes of all ran high. Several months passed, life in the river village moving on in its accustomed grooves. The local train to Wollaston proved a great convenience to everyone who had occasion to 180 PROPHET S LANDING go to the larger town. People who owned a share or more of the stock had the satisfaction of reflecting, as they paid their fare, that the sum went to swell the road s receipts, and thus to contribute, though ever so slightly, to their anticipated dividends. The company put up a depot and freight-house at its new wharf, and much was hoped for from the stimulation of the river traffic. Mr. Harney had allowed it to be understood that good earnings were to be looked for, almost from the start. As the months went slowly by, however, certain misgivings found voice in the community. It began to be whis pered that the road s business was not what had been anticipated. The passenger traffic seemed fair, and was doubtless as much as was to be expected on a local branch line of such a nature; but the freight business, the real source of railroad earnings, was plainly disap pointing. The few freight-cars that ran were seen to be almost empty. The bulk of the local business clearly still went by the main line, and the expected traffic from the river languished. Had Joel Harney s keen commercial judgment for once been at fault? Several persons decided to part with their shares at prices a little below cost, not wish- STOCKS IN TRADE 181 ing to run the risk of a possible further decline in value. Everyone anxiously awaited the new company s first half-yearly report. Mr. Har- ney expressed no opinion to inquiries, explain ing that as an officer of the road it would be improper to do so; but he did not deny the rumors of disappointing earnings, and many fancied that he wore a look of trouble and worry. Thornton, who was one of the direc tors, said openly that the prospects were far from satisfactory. When the report was made public, it came as a shock even to those who had feared bad tidings. The showing was undeniably bad. Earnings had not equalled running expenses. There was much excited discussion in the com munity. Many contended that the line could riot be expected to show profits at the begin ning, and held to their faith in Mr. Harney, and the shrewd group of directors, who, they felt, would not have backed an enterprise so heavily unless they had been assured of its success. But a growing uneasiness was never theless felt by those who owned stock, and the price declined still further. It was at the end of the first full year of operation of the new branch that a kind of local panic was brought about by the publica- 182 PROPHET S LANDING tion of the annual statement, which made a much worse showing than the half-yearly one had done. Where was the traffic that had been so authoritatively predicted? What would happen if this sort of thing went on for an other period! There were certain bonds ahead of the stock, chiefly taken up by the directors and by the Wollaston bank, and the line had failed to earn even the interest on these. ^The price of shares now fell wildly. Small inves tors in Wollaston and the Landing, as well as in the countryside about, and even over at Easthaven, sought to sell out, preferring after all the surer dollar in the chest or the bank. But now no one could be found to buy, save Mr. Harney and others of the directorate, and then only at nominal prices, and, as they de clared, solely to oblige those who wished to sell. When finally sales were effected, it was found that the dollar had shrunk to a dime. Mrs. McNamara was among those who shared the panic and sold at any price, and she and her husband looked blankly at the meagre sum handed to them. It is difficult to realize fully what losses of this kind mean among hard-working country folk. This community was not a rich one. Every cent invested had been slowly earned STOCKS IN TRADE 183 and patiently saved. Small denials on the part of husbandman and housewife had for years been adding to the modest hoards put aside for a rainy day. And now a part of these precious reserves had been whittled away and the slow work of accumulation must begin anew. Additional work, increased denials and economies, would be the penalties to be paid for that promising but disastrous little finan cial venture; besides the feelings of discour agement, of despondency, which would cause the losers to brood long over the loss. At this point, however, a turn in the fortunes of the branch road seemed to come. Evi dences could be noted of improving traffic. Month by month the cars, running briskly back and forth, found increasing quantities of goods to take on from boats at the new wharf and to unload at the Wollaston depot. The directors announced the acquisition of Captain Prout s serviceable river craft, wherries, lighters and the like (a purchase enforced at little more than half their real value, if the truth were known, by the threat that if the terms were not accepted, the company would build and oper ate its own boats and utterly crush his com petition). The volume of freight, hitherto so strangely small, seemed mysteriously to ex- 184 PROPHET S LANDING pand; and as the months went on and the road s earnings increased, its stock mounted steadily again, finally coining back to par. The disappointment and dejection of the many who had lost on their little investments changed to suspicion, and finally to bitter and outspoken anger. "It s another scoundrelly trick," declared the Wollaston man who had once denounced the change of route at the time of the surveys. "This is some more of Joel Harney s work. You men don t understand that fellow. You don t realize what s going on here. He stands straight and says little and looks like a deacon, but I tell you he s doing more harm in this community than any hundred deacons are likely to undo." "I can t say s I see it," returned the man he was talking with. "Harney ain t makin the freight grow. It s growin of itself." "Stuff! Don t you suppose the main line has all the say about that? And Harney and Pierce and the men on the branch line board are hand in glove with the others." You mean they "Let the stock way down, bought it cheap, ;md now are putting it up again. It s as plain as the nose on your face. I did n t get bitten STOCKS IN TRADE 185 myself. But I say the man s a scoundrel, all the same." Talk not quite so vehement but nevertheless actively indignant and hostile was also heard in Prophet s Landing, and some of it reached Mr. Harney s ears. He betrayed no sign of feeling in return, but inwardly he winced un der the stern criticism. Joel was not invulner able to hostile comment. On the contrary he was singularly sensitive to it. It angered him that he should be sensitive, and this hard ened him outwardly. In the man s hidden nature a struggle was always going on. His acts were done in the face of an undying inner protest. Success seemed to have no power to silence it. Yet success was too sweet to be thrown aside for the mere sake of inward calm, and he had no intention of throwing it aside. Instead, he enforced an outward calm. It was as when an autocratic government rules by rigid repression. Outbreaks may shake it for the moment, but cannot affect its policy. Only a revolution can overturn it. Joel Harney composedly told inquirers that in his opinion the earnings of the W. & P. L. R. R. Co. would continue to increase and that he expected to see the stock at very high figures. 186 PROPHET S LANDING There was no little discussion in the country homes when this prediction became known. A certain change in feeling ensued. * I kind o think mebbe Joel s doin the very best he kin, after all," remarked Ezra McNa- mara to his wife. Humph ! she sniffed sarcastically, contin uing her dusting with eloquent vigor. But the next evening, she said : "Ezry, ef you an Joel Harney re right, after all, an that stock s goin a lot higher, why, I ve about decided to buy a little ag in." "Why, you did n t git but a precious small sum back, out o your two hunderd, when you sold." I had n t ought to Ve sold, she lamented. * You were a fool, Ezry, to let me. Me? Why, I kep sayin not to." Well, you had n t ought to Ve let me, whether I wanted to or not. But I Ve scraped together about thirty dollars more sence then, you know; an ef you 11 take that fifty dollars you Ve saved toward the new farm-wagon, "That wagon-money?" he exclaimed. "Why, I could n t do that possibly. I Ve jest got to have that wagon this spring." "No, you c n wait another year," she in sisted. "That 11 give us a hunderd dollars, <. t 1 1 STOCKS IN TRADE 187 an Al Thornton told me this mornin in Wol- laston that he d sell us one of his shares f r that. Said he d be losin money, cause it was wuth more n par already. I think t was reel good of him. An I want to hurry an close with him b fore he changes his mind." Mrs. McNamara s insistence prevailed, and the share was bought. Others also repur chased stock at par or higher. The road had regained the confidence of the honest little local public, and many who had lost money in their earlier venture now thought they saw an opportunity to make the loss good. And a tragic event occurred, which operated, strangely enough, to give added confi dence to this feeling. Wollaston was startled one morning to learn that honest old Martin Cass, the builder, had committed suicide by shooting himself. The day brought out the full facts. The local evening paper stated that, a year or more previously, Mr. Cass had had a business loss of about a couple of thousand dollars, which, occurring in connection with some unfortunate investments and a period of hard times, had crippled him severely. Seeking to retrieve these misfortunes, he had done some specu lating in the Boston market, for the first time 188 PROPHET S LANDING in his life, meeting at times with gain but more often with loss. Then he had bought stock in the new branch line, when it was first marketed at 100, and had lost heavily in sell ing when it had dropped to a tenth of that value. And on its rebound, believing now that the rise was but a flurry and that the condition of the road s affairs was intrinsically unsound after all, he had sold a large block short, and had been hopelessly ruined in its continued and remorseless rise back to par. And so Wollaston and Prophet s Landing talked and wondered and sympathized, and the coroner duly held his inquest, and the body of old Martin Cass was laid in its grave. "Poor Mr. Cass! He was a good man," said Mrs. McNamara to her husband with real sorrow. "Well, anyway, Ezry, it goes to show that that stock s likely to keep on goin up, so I m glad we bought." But to Joel Harney and his wife the event spoke another message, though neither talked of it with the other. In fact husband and wife now talked less and less often with each other in any spirit of real intimacy. The reserve that had slowly come into their intercourse had deepened. Mrs. Harney s misgivings over her husband s busi- STOCKS IN TRADE 189 ness courses had steadily gained strength and certainty, and she now was under no illusions in the matter. A few times had she spoken out her thoughts to him since that day when she had pleaded for leniency for Martin Cass ; but he had never given her satisfaction in reply. At length she had come despairingly to feel the futility of her remonstrances, and a dulled silence had come in their place. Olive, too, had withdrawn herself more and more from her father. Since Steve s de parture, shortly after the Hallowe en. party, she had changed markedly. Her sweet gayety of spirit seemed gone, and she laughed seldom. She had grown a little thin and pale, as her mother noted with concern, and she ap peared in many ways older and more mature. The increasing if indefinable reserve shown by Mrs. Harney and Olive toward Mr. Harney could not but be noticed by Josie, and it had its influence upon her. She was scarcely aware of any change in her own attitude, being still, as in childhood, a firm admirer and adorer o her father ; yet she unconsciously caught some thing of the same reserve. All this Mr. Harney vaguely felt, and as a result, his thoughts came more and more to centre around Jay. It was Jay upon whom his 190 PROPHET S LANDING great business interests would in time devolve, and who might, he hoped, extend and expand them still more widely. It was Jay who was to bear his name and keep alive the firm and title of J. Harney & Son. The father found himself unconsciously building on the son s growth and development, and looking forward to the time, still many years ahead, when they should be equals and comrades. Yet with all this, Joel failed to put himself on terms of real intimacy with his boy. Per haps h did not quite know how to set about it. It was Mr. Harney s misfortune to lack a cer tain quality which wins and gives intimacy. While he watched and exulted in his son, and the lad looked up to and admiringly copied his father, neither was at bottom acquainted with the other, and the signs of their being some day equals and comrades were faint and scarcely discernible. Jay was a healthy, good-looking lad, full of animal spirits, and with certain traits of reck lessness and a tendency to domineer which his mother sought vainly to correct. He wanted his way, and when his mind was set upon a project, nothing availed to turn him from his purpose. At school he was studying hard. His teachers declared that he had great possi- STOCKS IN TRADE 191 bilities in him, but they admitted among them selves that these possibilities might need direction. The new house was proving itself convenient and comfortable, and the family had finally more or less adjusted themselves to its ele gance and comparative formalities. Mr. Har- ney frequently brought Mr. Pierce or some other Wollaston business acquaintance to din ner or supper, and Mrs. Harney did consid erable neighborhood entertaining. Yet they missed something, they knew not what. It all seemed provisional and temporary, unlike the life in the old house on the side street. Not only from Mrs. Harney but from the others the dear home feeling had slipped away, and they could not bring it back. When off for an afternoon s sleigh-ride behind the ponies, something would occasionally call to mind the Thanksgiving ride they had taken when Olive came home from boarding-school, and they would realize that the free, joyous spirit of that day was not wholly with them now. And then Mrs. Harney would recall their drawing up before the gate of the old prophet s stone house on the Point, and the warning injunction that he had given with his burning black eyes fixed on her husband; and 192 PROPHET S LANDING her own eyes would fasten themselves on Joel s form, as he sat erect in the driving- seat in front of her, and she would sigh deeply. One day Mr. Harney took Olive for a drive alone, in the smaller cutter. You did n t see Thornton when he dropped in, last evening," he said, as they sped along the river road. "No," she said indifferently. "I was feel ing rather tired, and did n t care to come down." He wishes to see you specially, I think. The girl looked up quickly. "See me? About what!" l That is for him to tell you. I want you to hear what he has to say. She understood then. "If you mean that he wishes to propose mar riage," she said, "there is no need for me to hear it, for I should tell him no." Her father frowned. "You are old enough now to be reasonable," he observed. "Thorn ton is a rising man. He has been of great service to me. He can be of still greater. I want you to give him a hearing." In payment for service to you ? she asked, her lip curling a little. "It will be better to increase his salary." STOCKS IN TRADE 193 "Don t be impertinent," he said sharply. "Forgive me, father," she said with com punction. "I ought n t to have spoken so. But I dislike and distrust Mr. Thornton, and I want to see him as little as possible. Mr. Harney gave the horse a cut with his whip. "You would think differently of him if you would let yourself," he said. "You have an idea that you dislike him, that is all. * Even supposing that were true, I could not encourage him." "Why not?" Because I have promised to wait for Steve Baird." "What!" he exclaimed. "Is n t that boy and girl affair over!" "It will never be over, I think, father," Olive said simply. "Has he been binding you by promises?" "He has never asked for promises, since his losses here, since he decided to go away. I gave him the promises without his asking me. "I refuse to sanction them," he said vehe mently. I will not consent to your marrying Stephen Baird at any time." "Why do you oppose him so, father?" asked the girl. Steve is true and fine and brave. 194 PROPHET S LANDING "What has he done?" demanded Mr. Har- ney contemptuously. "That is n t all the test there is." "Yes, it is. It s the way I measure men. Thornton would have had a good business established at young Baird s age." Steve was very unfortunate when that rail road route was changed." "That was his lookout. A man has no ex cuse for being unfortunate." "Well," said Olive firmly, "Steve is ten years younger than Mr. Thornton. He is young enough and plucky enough to do lots of things in that time." Mr. Harney resented a certain finality in his daughter s tone. "I want you to understand, Olive, that this matter shall never come to anything so far as my will is concerned. You can do vastly better in life. A young girl is imaginative. She can t always judge for herself. "I can never let another judge for me in this question, not even you, father." He frowned again. Once for all, he said, I will not consent to your marrying Baird under any circum stances. You need never open the subject to rne. Some day you will come to realize that STOCKS IN TRADE 195 others can judge better than you can. And the next time that Thornton calls, I desire you to see him." He turned the sleigh, and drove rapidly home. XV HOME TRUTHS ;< TT s jest as much robbery as breakin into JL a body s house; an that s what I came here to tell ye!" Mrs. McNamara was excited. She took a step forward, and emphasized her points with her forefinger. "It s been droppin an droppin f r more n two months, an Ezry he wanted to sell, but I would n t, cause I felt sure it d go up and after what they said you said about it. An it s kep on droppin , an the man at the bank over in Wollaston this mornin told me they were n t payin but twenty-seven f r it today." "Did you sell?" "Yes, I sold, f r I d ruther have twenty- seven than seventeen or ten. An that s where it s goin to, Joel Harney, jest as it did b fore, an it s you that s done it, -I don t keer what you say, lookin at me with that cold 196 HOME TRUTHS 197 face o yours. That s all that s left o the two hunderd dollars Uncle Wells left me, an of eighty more that Ezry an I d got saved up. He was goin to git him a farm-wagon. He can t now." Mrs. McNamara was standing in the rear office of the Harney store in Prophet s Land ing, and Mr. Harney, who had been at the high desk writing an answer to a telegram, had quitted his lofty stool as she entered and was standing also. "I shall be very glad to draw you a check for two hundred and fifty-three dollars, "Mrs. McNamara, came his even tones in reply, if you think you lost it through me." "I don t want your charity," she returned, her voice rising. "All I want is to let you know what you Ve done, an what I feel about it, an lots of others b sides. The world ain t any the happier f r your livin in it, Joel Har ney, an I tell ye so to your face." Again the man s inner nature winced, and again his outward manner stiffened in self- protection. "You are speaking inconsiderately, Mrs. McNamara," he said. "I am sorry if you have lost money. I have offered to make it good. But I decline to accept blame for your 198 PROPHET S LANDING unfortunate investments. People buy or sell stocks at their peril. And I can t control the railroad s good or bad earnings." "That ain t true, an you know it," she asseverated bluntly. " You an those men with you jest make or break that road exactly as you please. An you take in other people s dollars by it each time. Ef you see the dif- f rence b tween that an housebreakin , honest folks don t." The storekeeper s face paled. Men did not say such things to him, and no woman had hitherto done so. He was uncomfortably aware of what many people thought and said about his acts, but this brusque arraignment lighted them up with new vividness. "From your father to you, it s a big change!" she added fiercely. "An from you to your son, is that goin to be a worse change still?" He started, as at a sudden and acute thrust. "Be silent, Mrs. McNamara, about my son and my family ! " he broke in sternly. I have endured your talk about me, for I realize that you are excited and not yourself. But now you have said enough." "I have n t said enough, but I ve said what I came to say," she retorted, "an I feel HOME TRUTHS 199 better. It s what others re sayin too. You had plenty of friends an well-wishers, here an over in Wollaston, years ago, Joel Harney ; you ve got precious few now." " Perhaps you are a little mistaken about that last," returned Mr. Harney quietly. He turned to the desk and took in his hand an opened telegram lying there. "This was handed to me, a little before you came in. I have just been nominated for State Senator." His visitor stared at the yellow paper in his hand. "Well, all I ve got to say," she began, "is" "I must ask you to excuse me now, Mrs. McNamara, " he interrupted with finality, opening the office door. "It is late in the afternoon, and I must go home. I have heard what you came to say. Should you wish my check later, I will draw it. Good afternoon. Left alone, Mr. Harney finished the answer he had been writing to the telegram. The nomination was not unexpected. In fact, it had been patiently and persistently worked for. Thornton, as his agent, had done effective political work for him during the preceding months, and he had paid the bills without ask ing to see the vouchers. For several days he 200 PROPHET S LANDING had known that the result was assured. Yet there was the gratifying surety of an accom plished fact, the zest of tangible triumph, in the message on the yellow paper before him. Soon he was on the way home to tell his wife the news. Mrs. Harney was in the sitting-room. She too had a telegram in her hand, but she crumpled it out of sight as her husband was heard entering the house. He was rather chagrined at her unheeding reception of his tidings. He had not told her before of his political plans, intending to sur prise her. "You don t seem very much surprised," he said somewhat petulantly; "or even inter ested. A State Senatorship is something more or less worth while." "Is it!" she repeated. "Of course, yes; I know that. I m glad, I m sure. I Ve : She paused. "Well, what?" he demanded impatiently. 1 You seem to be thinking of something else. "I Ve just had a telegram, Joel." "A telegram! You!" he said, a little star tled. "Who sent it?" "Olive. She took the train to Boston this morning. She came and told me before she HOME TRUTHS 201 left. Steve Baird met her at the Boston sta tion, and they ve just been married. Joel stood stunned. The news was like a blow in the face. She said she had had a letter from him yes terday," Mrs. Harney went on. "I told you once that his uncle had given him a position. He has had a sudden promotion. Also he is to be sent on a six months Western trip, and he osked Olive if she would marry him so that they could go together." "Why did n t you tell me?" demanded Mr. Harney savagely. "You had already gone to Wollaston." "You could have telegraphed me, could n t you? or sent word somehow." What good would it have done ? Olive left by ten. "You did n t try to prevent her, I presume," he snapped. "No, Joel, I did n t, I have known that there s been an understanding between them ever since Steve left here. Olive said she had told you too, the other day." "I refused to consent to it." "I approved it entirely," said his wife with decision. "Olive would never care for any one else. And Steve is worthy of her caring. 202 PROPHET S LANDING "This is outrageous!" exclaimed Mr. Har- ney, pacing the floor in growing rage. "Our own daughter, to leave us like this, with scarcely a word, and go after that young rapscallion. I can t believe it. Let s see that telegram. He scanned it. "It s simply crazy! Do you mean to say you had n t an inkling of what was going on till this morning 1 ?" "I Ve told you all I knew, Joel," said Mrs. Harney with dignity. "I knew that Olive loved Steve, and that he loved her. They have corresponded regularly since he left, as you and I have both been aware. I did not know that she was to leave us and get married, and never imagined such a thing. Neither did she, till his letter came yesterday." He resumed his pacing of the floor. "It s awkward, confoundedly awkward," he muttered. "What s awkward?" "I was meaning to have another talk with Olive myself in a day or two. Fact is, " He paused. "Well?" "The fact is, Ellen, I intended she should marry Thornton," he said. HOME TRUTHS 203 "She never would have done that," his wife answered with conviction. "Oh, you thought so, and so did she. That was only an idea. Loving a person is mostly making up your mind that you do. It s a good deal a matter of imagination. That s what I told her, the other day. Olive has always imagined she disliked Thornton. Let her try imagining she liked him, for awhile, and you d soon see the difference. That s all I meant to ask of her." "It s a poor view of love, Joel. Was yours and mine like that?" Not at all. But it s the fact pretty often. Thornton s an able man." "You said something about it s being awk ward." "Never mind about that," he said quickly. "I had other wishes. But the thing s done now. I don t suppose we can help it." He paused in his walk. "I can t forgive her!" he burst out. He was excessively surprised and disturbed by the news he had heard. The thought that Olive had drifted so far away from him as to take such a step as this without informing him came as a shock. That he had drifted so far from her as to have been willing to favor her 204 PROPHET S LANDING marriage with Al Thornton purely for rea sons of his own, was a counter reflection which did not strike him. Mrs. Harney did not reply to his outburst. She heard him absently, engrossed with a mother s thoughts of her newly married daughter. "I hope they 11 be happy," she said wist fully. "And I m sure they will." "They 11 have to be happy in their own way, then," said Olive s father grimly. "If that young fellow s looking for me to support him,"- You know he is n t ! " flashed Mrs. Harney. "He s working hard and doing well, Olive told me, not long ago." "Well, it s a good thing he is. It s simply crazy ! " he burst out again, striding back and forth. "I have n t grasped the thing at all, yet. What with the telegram at the office about this senatorship nomination, and your telegram from Olive, I ve had more than I can seem to get hold of." "I have n t really grasped it yet, either," said his wife. "But I m quite sure I m glad." She had picked up the crumpled telegram, and sat there gazing at it, with a soft, rapt HOME TRUTHS 205 smile upon her face. So full was she of her thoughts that she scarcely heard Mr. Harney somewhat abruptly leave the room. "Dear Olive!" said the loving mother-heart within itself, again and again. "Oh, I do hope she 11 be happy ! XVI THE GAGE OF BATTLE THE candidate for State Senator entered on his campaign with determination and energy. He welcomed the work as a means of distracting his thoughts from his daughter s home-leaving. More and more the significance of her step stood out before him, with all that it had meant of lessened home ties. Had Olive been the girl she used to be, she would, as her father knew well, have come to him long be fore this could have happened, and would have had open, trustful talks with him. She had changed. Or had he! Repeatedly his refrac tory subconscious ponderings led suddenly against the question, like some pointing, accus ing finger. And he refused to follow his thoughts further, summoning to his help the feeling of indignation at his daughter s act, and stubbornly shutting off further reflection. The activity of the campaign was most op- 206 THE GAGE OF BATTLE 207 portune. He was already fully occupied, one would have said, with his two stores, with the railroad and river traffic, with the concerns of the Wollaston bank, of which he had been made vice-president, and with his numerous investments and outside business interests. But he was a man who, however busy, could always find time for new tasks and opportuni ties ; and it soon became apparent that the sen- atorship fight would call for all the time he could give it and would bring into action his keenest mental resources. For opposition rapidly developed, and it proved to be deeper and stronger than he had at all anticipated. Joel Harney had made many enemies in these last years of advance. Envious acquaintances, rivals in business, mer chants who had latterly been forced against the wall by his irresistible competition, invest ors who had lost through his adroit manipula tions, the circles who knew and sympathized with George Burroughs and Martin Cass and with others whose very lives he had crushed, all these rose against him. As day after day brought new developments in the campaign, he sometimes stood appalled at evidences of the enemies he had made and the strength and bitterness of the feeling against him. 208 PROPHET S LANDING Yet he steeled himself, as always, and pre pared to fight with the same merciless vigor with which he carried on operations in busi ness. The opposing candidate had a record which was open to attack, and Harney s lieu tenants attacked it without ceasing. He him self, in consultation with the astute Thornton, who acted as his political manager, directed the scope of operations, and his men were at work throughout the entire district. More over, he was by no means without strong sup porters. Many people believed in Joel Harney, admired his success, were locally proud of his achievements. Many were bound to him by business ties. Many in his church circle and on benevolent boards kept in mind his regular and liberal if not spontaneous gifts to religion and charity; the Rev. Mr. White- house, for example, coming out as his staunch advocate. And many of the older men, es pecially in Prophet s Landing, remembering with lasting affection the gentle, blameless, honorably useful life of his father, Jacob Har ney, aligned themselves with the son for the father s sake. Thornton had been extraordinarily upset and chagrined at the news of Olive s mar riage to Stephen Baird. In his furtive, per- THE GAGE OF BATTLE 209 sistent way he had won success in most of his schemings, and he had counted on assuredly winning it here. He had seemed almost as much discomposed as was his employer, when the latter had told him ; but the thing was done, and there was nothing for it save to nurse his latent fury against Baird, and now to include Olive also in its scope. As to his relations with her father and any hold which they gave him, he found himself disappointed in the thing he had most hoped for as a result; but the hold was still effective, and he would bide his time to make other demands. While the campaign was fairly under way, a visitor came to stay for a few days in the Har- ney household. This was Mun Wetherill, whose interest in Prophet s Landing and its people had not abated from the time of his advent there in charge of the railroad survey ing party." He had found occasion to run over from Worcester to Wollaston a number of times since then, and was a frequent caller at the Harneys . This time, he had come, as he laughingly said, to see something of a Connec ticut election time, which he had heard was much more animated and stirring than that in Massachusetts. The pretext was of shame lessly flimsy material, but it had secured him 210 PROPHET S LANDING an invitation to stay in the Harney home itself, and he accepted this with joyful alacrity. On the afternoon of his coming, Josie and he went for a stroll, directing their light- hearted steps toward the Finlays house. Josie and Bess were sworn chums, and Mun had formed a liking for Zenas Finlay on the day of their first informal greeting out in the field, a liking which had held firmly ever since. Possibly it was due to the feeling that but for Zenas s unconventional introductions on that occasion, he might not have come into the present friendly contact with the village life which he enjoyed so zestfully. Zenas was mending a plough-handle, out in his tool-shop in the barn. "Glad to see ye," he said cordially, as the two invaded the precincts. "How air ye, Mun? Layin some new rails!" He glanced quizzically at Josie as he spoke. "Yes," smiled Wetherill boldly. "Though I can t tell where they 11 lead to, yet." "Well, I hope the route won t git changed, the way the other was," commented Mr. Fin- lay. "I wish you d take holt of the other end of this thing for a minute, Mun, while I cut a notch, so! Hold it firm. I heerd ye d come to town, to listen to some o the speech- THE GAGE OF BATTLE 211 makin . I don t go to hear em talk, any more." "Why not!" " Fraid they 11 call on me to take part. Same reason that so many folks stay away fr m prayer-meetin . " Zenas grinned, as he cut away at the notch in the long, curving handle, polished and worn by use. "That re minds me, he went on. l They did use to call on me a good deal at these p litical gather- in s ; ye see they knew I was gen rally ready to palaver. Well, one night there was a kind o j int debatin meetin announced, an both the candidates was to speak. It was a State Sena tor fight, here in this district, jest like this. Well, they both made their argyments, an it was pretty hot talk too, an then they was wait- in f r a feller fr m Hartford that was a great oraytor an that they d engaged to come up here an give the Democratic side a boost. While tlie hull hall was waitin , an poundin its feet, an gittin uneasy, some one gave a call f r me, bein a Democrat too, an the rest took it up, an so I climbed up on the platform an started in." Both the young people were listening with interest. Josie had seated herself on a low box, and her bright eyes were fixed on Zenas & 212 PROPHET S LANDING long, humorous face, as he talked and worked. Mun was no longer needed at the plough- handle, so he took a seat beside her. "While I was talkin along, an people was titterin here an there at what I was sayin , an clappin some, in came the Hartford oray- tor, late an flustered. He saw me jawin away, an he begun to whisper questions to the men with him about what I d done in life, an who my wife was, an whether I was over sharp at a hoss trade, an all the things in a man s hist ry he c d think of; an the men told him, naturally enough, not knowin what he was drivin at. Well, sir, after I d got through, he climbed up there, an he gave me the almightiest dressin down you ever heerd. Why, there warn t a thing he did n t accuse me of, an he had a good flow of words too. You d ve thought I had horns an a forked tail! Everybody jest sat there knocked endwise. It took me full five minutes to reelize what was goin on, an to make out how it come about." Mr. Finlay paused, and shifted his quid with a reminiscent chuckle. "What was it?" inquired Mun. "He took me f r the opposition candidate, ye see. I guess my speech that he heerd could THE GAGE OF BATTLE 213 n t ve been very much to the p int, they sometimes ain t; an so he got a wrong idee." Mr. Finlay worked leisurely on. He had evidently reached the end of his story. "What did you do?" inquired Wetherill, with keen enjoyment. "Me! Oh, when I saw how it was, I jest stood up ag in an held up my hand a minute till he found a chance to stop, an then I said, young feller, says I, you re barkin up the wrong tree. There s your coon, over there. An you d ought to Ve heerd that audience holler an cheer. I don know which enj yed it most, they or me." "I don t believe the Hartford man did, any way," laughed Josie. "Sence then, howsomever," resumed Zenas, "I hain t been to p litical gatherin s much. I concluded that p litical speakin warn t my best holt. I go to prayer-meetin regular, b cause I ain t one that they seem to call on there." "I wish you would make a speech in prayer- meeting some night, Mr. Finlay," said Josie, with an irrepressible giggle of delight. "Per haps it would make Mr. Wetherill come." You bet it would, asserted that gentleman with promptness. 214 PROPHET S LANDING "I m afeard I d break up the meeting Zenas said mournfully. I did rise an say somethin once, t was soon after I was mar ried; an sence then, my wife "Oh, do tell us about it!" pleaded the girl eagerly. "Can t now. There s Bess, drivin up, out at the front gate. She s been out with Al Thornton an his mare." Wetherill sprang up from the box at this, and hastened across the yard and through the gate to the road, where he helped Bessie to alight. Thornton and he exchanged scarcely perceptible nods, glaring at each other with undisguised hostility. And again Wetherill found himself inwardly exclaiming, "Where have I seen that fellow before I saw him here?" Josie and he got Bessie to go with them for a long, happy walk through Haines Woods; but frequently Mun s boyish face wore a look of perplexity as he searched his mind for a forgotten clue. On the way home, after leaving Bessie at her house, he asked Josie what was known about Thornton in Prophet s Landing, and she told him the little that she knew. I feel afraid of him, somehow, she added. THE GAGE OF BATTLE 215 1 1 Ve a great mind to tell you something, Mr. Wetherill." I wish you would, if I can help you in any thing, " said he earnestly. "Well, I accidentally overheard Mr. Thorn ton and father talking together, one day, and what Mr. Thornton said worried me a great deal. He seemed to think he had got some hold over father. Of course it could n t be true, but I did n t like his tone and manner a bit." She told Mun the few words she had heard, and the young man listened keenly. "Maybe I can take a hand in that game," he quietly said after a little; but he did not explain himself any further. XVII OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES " THE campaign went on. It was presently given an unexpected turn by an an nouncement which electrified the Harney household and made something of a sensation generally. It was that old Elder Potter was to take a part in the contest. It was stated that he would make an address in Stephen Baird s unused warehouse, and would also speak at meetings in Wollaston and elsewhere in the district. And the cause he was to espouse was the defeat of Joel Harney. The news spread rapidly through the coun tryside. Everywhere it was regarded as a seri ous and significant event. It was the first time that the prophet had broken his silence since the stormy days of the great Civil War. Why should he choose this time to come forth from his retirement? He and his forefathers had only in great crises uttered their strong 216 and stirring appeals. It was instinctively felt that he believed he now had a weighty message to deliver, and the fact gave a new and deep interest to the state of affairs. Mr. Harney and his lieutenants were quick to discern the grave effect that this interven tion might have upon the campaign. The silent old man had always had a mysterious hold upon the imagination of the community. Of course, comparatively few persons at tributed to him any so-called gift of prophecy, but there was a certain austerity, a certain authority in him, a clarity of vision, combined with power, which invariably impressed all who met him. His advent into this contest might prove a formidable peril. Mr. Harney proceeded to meet it with all the resources in his power. He had come to feel as though he had a desperate stake in this cam paign. Election meant to him a kind of vindi cation, for which his deepest soul ardently longed. Of late that inner finger of accusation had pointed more and more incriminatingly. Thoughts, reflections, memories, seemed to have grown ungovernable. Recollections of incidents which he had put aside, of occur rences which he had belittled and sought to forget, had rushed upon him in an insurrec- 218 PROPHET S LANDING tionary multitude. And their effect was ac centuated and intensified by the hostile voices evoked by this political strife. He was seeing himself as others had long seen him, and the sight seared him like white-hot iron. Others! Was it all others, or only a noisy few? Suc cess silences, refutes, wins over. In this con test success had become vital. Apart from the opportunities of higher political advancement in the future, which it would open to him, it stood now in itself as a definite, concrete self- rehabilitation, a restoring of the man to the esteem not only of his countrymen but of him self. Aided by the railroad and bank influences, backed by powerful money interests through out the state, and seconded by all the shrewd ness and energy of Thornton and other local leaders, he redoubled his activities. Money was spent freely, speakers were imported into the county from city centres, the local news papers were spurred to increased activity in his support, and campaign literature was lavishly distributed. Joel Harney was making the stiffest fight of his career, and he felt that its issues had come to be the issues of life and death. One thing only at times disconcerted him and for a little seemed to cripple his energy. This was his intercourse with Thornton, who had of late adopted a tone of familiarity, almost of insolence toward him, which was be coming intolerable. It sickened and paralyzed him to feel that this man, truly or otherwise, thought him in his toils. But at this juncture, Mun Wetherill, who had gone home to Worcester, unexpectedly re turned. He sought Mr. Harney, and had a long conversation with him. And the mer chant s face grew lighter as the talk pro gressed. 11 Three words with the fellow will do the trick, said Wetherill confidently, as he parted from the older man. "I 11 take the train in to Wollaston and see him this very afternoon." He did so, and the few words that he had to say to Thornton in the private office of the big store blanched that individual s cheek, and made him sink back, suddenly nerveless, into his chair. "I Ve traced it out to the last detail," Wetherill finished, in cool, level tones. "This eld Worcester photograph of you, and the one you gave the McNamaras and that I persuaded them to lend me, settled the business. You slipped out of Worcester very cleverly, that 220 PROPHET S LANDING time, my friend, and they never thought of looking for you as near as Boston, or after ward over here. Changing your name was a good idea too, of course." "What do you propose to do!" asked Thornton in a husky whisper. "Nothing," said Wetherill promptly. "If I open my mouth, you get ten years in prison. It ; s compounding a felony if I don t, I sup pose. But you 11 never care to prove it on me." He laughed. "The only man that knows of all this," he pursued, "is Mr. Harney. Your protection is entirely in his hands. You* understand ! His tone was significant. Thornton nodded sullenly. "Then that s all right," said Wetherill, rising. He moved to the door. There was a stealthy spring behind him, and he wheeled in time to avert Thornton s revengeful blow and to crowd him back into his chair with an iron grasp on his throat. "I was looking for that!" exclaimed Mun exultingly, as his grip tightened. "I knew your methods of fighting, from the way you were handling Baird that night when I pulled you off." He released the other with a scorn- "OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES" 221 ful fling. "Bad policy, Thornton. You don t often let yourself go like this. I would n t do it again, if you 11 take my advice." And Wetherill walked out of the office. Thus ended Albert Thornton s power for ill upon the fortunes of the Harney family. And Joel knew that this one danger had been re moved from the path. Perhaps the danger had not been great; for Thornton had no secrets of overt wrong-doing in his possession. The most that he knew, or that there was to know, was of trade methods and political moves which might be called unscrupulous but which evidenced no crime. Joel Harney was not a man to stoop to the latter. Everything that he did could be defended on sufficient if casuistical grounds, and he always so defended it to himself. That it might not be so defended openly and to others constituted the only hold that Thornton had had upon him. None the less, the silencing of this potential enemy in the camp meant much. The feeling of crippledness, of paralysis, vanished utterly, and he went on with the contest with new energy. Matters were looking very hopeful. There had been a subtle turn in the tide of public opinion, which often rises and subsides 222 PROPHET S LANDING so vagrantly. Canvasses by the newspapers and by his managers indicated a safe majority for Joel Harney. There remained the element of uncertainty which old Mr. Potter s coming intervention might introduce into the cam paign. But Mr. Harney now feared this less than before. It had been arranged that one of Ms own most telling and resourceful speakers should be present at the approaching meeting, and should make a reply. Other speakers were to support him if need should be. There seemed no real danger that the old prophet s coming address would carry away his listeners beyond the reach of counter argument. This address, it appeared, was not to be de livered in the warehouse, after all, unless the weather should be rainy. Elder Potter had decided that the meeting should be in the open air, on the grounds in front of his own house. The days slipped by, and the campaign neared its end. On the afternoon of the day set for the prophet s evening meeting, Mr. Harney came home early. He felt a certain nervous tension, and could not hold his mind upon matters at the store. This was to be a crucial event, one almost as definite and de ciding, he felt, as the day of election itself. "OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES" 223 What were to be the words that the prophet would find to say? Mrs. Harney was out, visiting a sick neigh bor. Mun Wetherill, who was still in town, had gone off with Josie for another after noon ramble. The house was quiet. Outside, the day was mild, with a breezy yet balmy air. Mr. Harney sank comfortably into the deep, low chair in his private study, close by the open window, and opened a new book. There were boyish voices in the grounds put- side. Jay, with Timmie Burroughs and Eddie McNamara and one or two others of the neigh borhood boys, was playing there. Timmie occasionally came over from Easthaven, where his mother and he were now living, to play with his former companions. They were all engaged in an ingenious game which Jay had recently invented and which he called "kite- tag. Each of the boys was sending up a kite, which was armed on the front with light spikes of sharpened wire. If one succeeded in getting his kite close to and behind another s, a sharp pull would generally result in the impalement and capture of the latter, which then became the victor s spoil. Obviously, more than one kite apiece was re quired for such a destructive game. Each boy 224 PROPHET S LANDING had several. Jay s were large and powerful, for there was no limit set to size and strength. One or two of the other boys were equipped with fairly good kites, though none so power ful as Jay s. Timmie Burroughs had but little spending-money, and had been able to invest only a few precious cents in the needed tissue- paper and cord for his own modest array. Mr. Harney, unobserved behind the window- boxes on the low, wide sill, found the boys movements more interesting than his book, and lazily putting the latter aside, watched the game. It was soon manifest that Jay had a great advantage. The kites circled about, lifted by the steady breeze, now drifting close to one another, now making sudden and unexpected swoops downward or sideways, as kites will do. The boys handled them skilfully, each warily holding the end of his taut line, manoeuvring for position, and now and then giving his cord a sharp pull or running with it suddenly toward a rival. Jay s widespread- ing and costly kite was under much better con trol than the others. Presently it swooped close behind Timmie s little flier, and an in stant pull from Jay captured the prey. "I Ve got it ! Hooray, I ve got it ! " yelled "OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES" 225 the boy excitedly, as he pulled the two rapidly to earth, hand over hand. He landed them successfully, and running forward, drew the prize loose from the other. Mine is n t hurt at all," he exulted. "Yours is a goner, though, Timmie." The fatherless lad looked crestfallen, but he made his way to his little reserve stock of kites, and prepared another. "Yours is too big, Jay," complained one of the other boys. " T is n t fair, I think. Ours don t have any show at all." "Oh, yes, they do," Jay responded impa tiently. Keep out of my way, if you can t do anything else. The sky s free. Hurry up, Timmie. This is lots of fun." There was a longer contest, this time. Jay s kite was nearly nipped by one of his other antagonists, but it escaped, and in the end brought down its opponent. Then it gathered in two or three more, one after the other. In time there was quite a little heap of torn and captured soarers on the ground in a tangled huddle of strings and tails, and Jay was merci lessly pursuing the only one remaining aloft, Timmie s last and most prized. Mr. Harney had been watching the game at first languidly, then more and more with 226 PROPHET S LANDING strained interest and a growing feeling of deadly pain. While he watched, his mind was tu- multuously flashing picture after picture upon its inner screen. His thoughts rose insurgent, flouting his hitherto rigid control, and at tacked him like fierce and cruel vultures. He made a movement in his chair, as if to rise and shut out sight and hearing of the game before him; then sank impotently back again. He must watch, though every moment stabbed him. Jay, boyish, active, handsome, intently and relentlessly absorbed, darted hither and thither, now slackening, now reeling in his line, his whole attention centred, like that of some falconer of other times, upon the quarry in the heavens. No thought of mercy crossed his mind, no reflection that this was Tim- mie s last kite, and that its loss meant more to his poorer companion than victory could mean to himself. Mr. Harney, sitting there as in a spell, found himself wishing, hoping, almost fjraying, that his son would haul in that destroying falcon and leave its fleeing victim to return in safety to its owner ; but something held him back from his impulse to call out. He must watch the issue in silence. Timmie Burroughs had saved his best kite "OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES" 227 for the last, and the fight was obstinate. Once, twice, he worked the kite adroitly behind Jay s, and nearly impaled it. The larger one tried in vain to catch the smaller. The two boys darted here and there, while the others looked anxiously on, their sympathies all with Timmie. Mr. Harney had risen, and was standing close by the window now. None of the boys noticed him, all eyes being fixed on the kites. Timmie made a dexterous dash toward Jay, seeking to pass behind him. On the instant, Jay threw back a rigid foot, and Timmie, stumbling, fell headlong, still clutching the cord. "I ve got you now!" shouted Jay. He let his own cord suddenly out, then pulled it sharply, and his big destroyer closed down and quickly impaled the smaller kite. No fair!" shrilled Timmie, struggling to his feet. * Let that go, do you hear f There was a red bruise on his forehead, and he rubbed it with one hand, while he vainly tried to release his captured kite by jerking the string with the other. "That ain t fair, Jay!" chimed in the other lads in angry protest. "What did you trip him up for?" 228 PROPHET S LANDING " Cause I was bound to get that kite," re turned Jay triumphantly. He hauled steadily on the line. "I got it too." "Nobody else d do such a thing," vocifer ated Timmie, half crying, as his captured kite was drawn in. "Yes, they would, too!" declared Jay. That s like business. It s the way pa does. He tripped your pa up once, I heard some body say so. And you das n t say he ain t fair!" 1 Oh, my God ! burst from Joel Harney, as he stepped suddenly back from the window. His face was agonized, and he caught his breath sharply. He stood for an instant, staring un seeing into the interior of the room. Then he sank into a chair by the table, and dropped his head in his hands. AN hour later, Mr. Harney wearily rose. His face looked old and drawn. He seemed to have lived a year within the hour. He felt around rather blindly for his hat, and leaving the house, he walked, at first slowly, then more and more rapidly, far out along the country roads. XVIII THE PROPHET SPEAKS THAT evening, the road that led along the riverside from the village to the Potters low stone house at the Point, a quarter of a mile away, was filled with an unwonted tide of travel. All the village was on the way to the old prophet s grounds. Numbers of people were driving in from the countryside. Others had come over from Wollaston on the train, crowding the one passenger-car to its doors; and even more distant parts of the county were represented, for the repute of Elder Potter was wide, and the strongest interest was felt in what the fearless and fervid old man might have to say. The evening was balmy, as the day had been. The breeze had gone down with the sun, and the still night was illumined by a full moon, which whitened river and road and field, and threw into sharp relief the straggling files of 229 230 PROPHET S LANDING conveyances and pedestrians converging to ward the Point. Mr. Potter had disdained artificial prepara tions of any sort. There was no platform, there were no seats, no flaring torches. One would have said, on arriving at the spot, that there had been some mistake in the date set. Except for two lighted lanterns placed on the rail of the little upper balcony over the front door, everything was precisely as usual. The front door itself was closed. No one was visi ble within the house. A light could be seen in the kitchen through the drawn shades. It seemed a strange prelude to a public meeting. But this was known to be the old man s way. Even so had he been wont to receive the crowds who had come in response to his calls, fifteen or more years before, when the vital issues of slavery and disunion were in the heart and mind of everyone. Even so, tradition averred, had his forefathers addressed the people at other great epochs, simply, straightfor wardly, without ceremonial. Many such gatherings as this had stood in the green en closure before the little stone house, and had overflowed beyond the gate and front fence to the road behind, in days and generations gone by; audiences orderly and intent, impressed THE PROPHET SPEAKS 231 with that indefinable respect and almost awe which this strange line of seers had always awakened in the community. The gathering throng little by little filled up the space before the house. There was no noise. Talking was carried on in an under tone. The restless demonstrations that gen erally precede the opening of a political meeting were wholly lacking. Everyone felt a certain solemnity in the occasion, and moved and spoke softly. It was in fact impossible for one not to feel a silencing effect. The un usual event, the out-door setting, the stillness of the evening, the silvery moonlight flooding the groups of people, the quiet, sombre old stone house in front of them, all combined to hush careless talk and arouse a feeling of keen est expectancy. There were women and children as well as men in the little groups edging their way about, exchanging greetings, chatting restrain- edly, but now and again watchfully glancing toward the empty porch above the front door of the house. And while they all waited, the distant bell of the church clock in the village counted out eight measured strokes. The low hum of voices suddenly ceased, as the hall door giving on the upper porch was 232 PROPHET S LANDING seen to open, and the tall, white-bearded form of Elder Potter appeared. He raised his hand for a moment as if in ascription. When his voice broke the silence, its grave, sonorous tones carried without effort to the farthest fringe of listeners. "Neighbors and friends, men of the Connec ticut Valley," he said, "we are a community of peace, a nation of peace. It was for peace in freedom that our fathers came to these shores, knowing that it was a goodly thing, a goodly, yes, and a godly. They sought little save the privilege of living in righteous peace with one another and with all men. So their descendants have multiplied, and the tiny set tlements along the ocean s edge have grown into a great republic. "Yet when the call has come to righteous war, the response has been instant. Genera tion after generation has heard and met that call. We of this generation have heard and met it. The anguish of our last and most terrible strife can never pass from our memo ries, though it is becoming mercifully dimmed by the moving years. It was a strife that had to be. We fought not for the sake of the fight but for the sake of the right. We fought solemnly, as under a mandate from on High. THE PROPHET SPEAKS 233 There was a joy of battle, who did not feel it? but our foremost thought was to finish the task, finish it at whatever fearful cost of life and strength, and to return once more to the ways of peace. And when it was fin ished, many a year and century, we hoped, would roll by before another war should arise. "But there are wars not only against ene mies far and enemies near but against enemies in the midst. One may be as sacred a crusade as the other. And when the call comes, shall we not again be instant in response? "I say to you that the call has come. There are enemies in the midst. They may well grow to be as deadly to the life of this republic as those men who would have disunited it, seeking to make it half slave, half free. "Enemies? Who are they? They are those who are seeking to corrupt us on our weakest side, our love of success, especially money suc cess. The Puritan was no fool. He was hard- headed and a good bargainer. These qualities are in the nation s blood. It is an excellent thing. The Puritan s was good bargaining, but it was just. So, in the main, have been the intense business activities of his descend ants. "Some of you standing here before me on 234 PROPHET S LANDING this still autumn night can go back in memory forty, fifty, sixty years. You have known the life of this community, and it has been the life of all like communities in this nation. You have known its peaceful, friendly rivalries, its easy spirit of trade, its desire to live and let live, not to maim and kill. We have been herbivorous, not carnivorous. I am not say ing to you that all have been good men; we have had many bad men among us. But we have never admired nor followed them, and so they have never been a source of danger to us. "You older men recall the beginnings of a certain red store in this village of ours. You remember the upright and beloved owner. I held him as my best friend; no kindlier char acter ever lived among us. Each of you who knew him can recollect some good act that he did to you, some friendly word that he said. Can any recollect a bad act, a word un friendly? He lived his life and prospered, and all who knew him were the better for his prosperity. "I said that the Puritan was hard-headed. Beware when he becomes hard-hearted! I said that his bargaining was just. Beware when it grows unjust! For his traits, good and bad, are in our own blood. THE PROPHET SPEAKS 235 "That red store, who owns it now? My friends, I wish I need not be personal. I have no individual ill will against the owner. He has lived among us as boy and man. He is a person true to a promise, constant in religious observances, loving in his family life. Yet I say to you that it is he and such as he from whom this republic has most to fear. "The father s life injured no man; can we say it of the son? These recent years have shown you a business method new to this place, regardless, relentless, remorseless. Not dishonest, you say? It is a mistake to meas ure conduct solely by the standard of honesty. There is a vice greater and blacker than dis honesty, and that is cruelty. "I know this man, the son of my old friend, well enough to feel assured that if he realized a tithe of the evil he has wrought, he would repent in dust and ashes. He does not real ize it. Only a revelation, it may be, could make him realize it. Through some strange deafness he fails to hear voices that you and I plainly hear, the accusing voices of those who have suffered by his acts; voices of the deceived, of the crushed, even of the dead. It is not my purpose to arraign him here. My appeal is not to him ; it is to you. For oh, my 236 PROPHET S LANDING friends, the danger is not in the wrongs he has done; it is in your seeing only the success, and blinding yourselves to the sin. It is in the unconfessed willingness of some, yes, many of you, to emulate him, to use if neces sary similar methods, so you may achieve similar success. There is the poison. There is the danger we have to fear for this republic. Elsewhere in the land similar men have risen up and are at work. It is a tendency of the time. They shut their eyes to cruelty, so it be not dishonesty. And hear me! their suc cessors will shut their eyes to dishonesty as well. The poison spreads. "As yet it is but a little thing. It has not got deep hold upon our national life. We have time to check this tendency, to root out the evil from our midst. But each decade that passes will make it harder. God forbid that it ever become impossible ! The old prophet s voice had risen. It thrilled with fervor, and his words fell ring- ingly upon every ear, in that silent assemblage in the moonlight. "As for our community, it is at the parting of the ways. The man of whom I have been speaking has been nominated for public office, as our Senator in council. We have been called THE PROPHET SPEAKS 237 upon to ratify or disavow the choice. It is our first opportunity to render open judg ment. The issue will tell how we ourselves stand. Do we condone or condemn? Do we admire the prosperous even though they be the unscrupulous? This little county of ours has never faced a graver issue, nor one that means more to the inner life and soul of its people. "I see perils ahead for this nation. The lust for power and wealth, if unchecked, may overpass all bounds. The time may come when it will no longer work within the forms of law, as it has hitherto been content to do. It may dare to defy the law. I picture increas ing wealth working increasing wrong, rob bing and at the same time corrupting. Keep tender the national conscience, that this thing come not to pass! "The man of whom I have spoken typifies for our community those incipient forces of evil. Look to the matter, men of the county. Shall you secretly admire him? Shall you openly endorse him, uplift him, emulate him? Or shall you stamp on his acts, and take your stand for the business equity and kindliness for which that little red store once stood?" There was a strained hush over all the 238 PROPHET S LANDING throng. No one moved, in the moment s silence that followed. All seemed to be wait ing for the prophet to say more ; but none were prepared for his next words. As he stood there on the upper porch, his burning black eyes were fixed on one person in the crowd be fore him. "Joel Harney," he said, "no word that I had in mind to utter has been changed because you have stood before me tonight. Do you wish to make answer before the people!" An even voice spoke in reply. "I do." Few had noticed Mr. Harney in the crowd. He had come up quietly, after the old man had begun speaking, and the listeners were too intent to pay attention to newcomers. The unexpected sound of his voice came as a sen sation. Those in front of him instinctively gave place. Joel Harney made his way to .the house door, and opening it, passed up the stairs and appeared upon the upper balcony. He gave no formal greeting to Elder Potter, nor did the latter give further sign of recogni tion. The stress was too great, the moment too intense, for outward formalities. The older man moved slightly to one side, and stood THE PROPHET SPEAKS 239 regarding the other, who advanced straight to the front rail. Mr. Harney s face was haggard, but when he spoke his voice was with out tremor. An hour ago, he said, in clear, deliberate tones, "on my way here, I sent a telegram to the Chairman of the District Committee, with drawing my name as a candidate for State Senator." A murmur of astonishment ran through the assemblage. Mr. Harney s sudden and un locked for announcement seemed scarcely credible. Men looked at one another unbeliev ingly. "What was it he said?" they asked, staring each at his neighbor. Mr. Harney turned quietly to Elder Potter. "Will you tell them to disperse now?" he said. "I have much on my mind that I want to talk of with you alone." As the wondering people slowly moved away in little knots and groups, talking and ques tioning, Joel again turned to the old man at his side. "I have listened tonight to every word you have uttered, he said in a low voice. * Every word is true." For an instant the prophet did not reply. Then his eyes seemed to soften, as they rested 240 PROPHET S LANDING on the other s face. He put his hand on Joel Harney s shoulder. "God bless your work of reparation, my son," he said simply. XIX TWO IN COUNCIL THE river road was silent and deserted when Mr. Harney, an hour later, walked rapidly home. The crowd returning from the meeting had disappeared, and the moon shone only on their innumerable footprints in the sandy road. He found his wife awaiting him rather anxiously. Josie and Jay and the servants had gone to bed. "I was getting quite worried, Joel," Ellen said, coming to meet him as she heard his step in the hall. "I hope you had some supper. You look tired out." "I have n t had a bite," he admitted, with a little laugh. " You have n t 1 Oh, Joel! Come right into the dining-room, and I 11 get you something this minute." He followed her in through the wide hall, 241 242 PROPHET S LANDING and drew up a chair to the walnut dining-table. Mrs. Harney went into the pantry, and re turned presently with an appetizing little supper, which she had had set aside for her husband s possible requirements. "Is n t this nice, Joel?" she said wistfully, as she drew up a chair beside him and poured his cup of tea. "How we used to love to have supper together this way, once in a while, in the old house, when the children were young, no servants to wait on us, just our two selves alone. It s almost like those dear days again. "We had a servant then, my dear," he re minded her, attacking the thinly sliced cold meat with a relish. "We had a hired help," his wife returned, laughing. "She would n t have let us call her a servant. Good old Agatha! You took away her home when you bought that Burn- ham farm, Joel. "Do you think she minded, Ellen?" he asked, with a troubled note in his voice. 1 i I think she s grieved over it to this day. 1 Why, I thought her folks were well enough satisfied. Of course they could have sold for more, if it had been known that the railroad was going along the place. I heard that they TWO IN COUNCIL 243 felt rather bitter about that part afterwards. But my agent paid them a fair price, as far as the farm itself was concerned." "I never heard Agatha say anything about that," Mrs. Harney said, "Of course what ever money was paid went to her brother and his wife, as they owned the farm." "Ellen," said her husband abruptly, "how would you like to go back to our old house, and have Agatha again, and live just as we used to do?" * Oh, Joel ! she said, startled at the sudden question; "I d love it, I d love it! I often think I d give anything if we could go back five years and be there." "We can t go back five years," he said soberly. "But we 11 go back to the old house, if you would like to do it." Mrs. Harney gasped a little. "What do you mean?" she demanded. "Has anything happened, Joel?" "Yes, Ellen, something has happened," he gravely responded. "Nothing bad, I think; something good, I hope. I have n t lost any money. But perhaps I ve parted with some wrong-headed ideas." "Tell me, Joel," she begged. Then he told her. 244 PROPHET S LANDING He told her of the afternoon, of the boys at play, of the sudden, blinding revelation that had come to him ; of his long, late-afternoon pacing of the country roads, and of the thoughts that had overwhelmed him and had changed, he believed for all time, his outlook on life; of the meeting on the prophet s grounds and what had been said there ; and of the hour s converse, fraught with feeling and purpose, which the two men had afterward held together. The little supper remained unfinished while Joel Harney talked in low tones and his wife listened. Slowly, at first with doubt and then with growing and joyful certainty, she real ized the amazing change that had been wrought in him. "They were true, all true, the old man s words," he declared, pushing back his chair. A look of poignant pain was on his face. Mrs. Harney reached out and took his hand, clasping it lovingly. "It was n t old Elder Potter alone whose voice I seemed to hear, Ellen," he broke out. "It was the voice of every one of those people around. It was the voice of all humankind." "Yet it was n t those voices that moved you, Joel," she said softly. TWO IN COUNCIL 245 "No, Ellen. It was our boy. What he said came like the voice of conscience itself." Mrs. Harney could not speak. Her eyes were dim with the tears that welled up, but her face was transfigured with gladness. "I ve got a whole lot of nice little plans, Ellen," Mr. Harney said after a pause. "I want to see what you think of them." "I m sure I shall approve, Joel. But you must go on with your supper while you talk. Wait till I bring you in some hot tea." "Seems to me these soda biscuits are re markably good," remarked Mr. Harney, as his wife returned from the kitchen. "I made them myself," she confessed, smiling. "I went into the kitchen this after noon, after I came in, and mixed up a batch for supper. "What did the cook say?" "Oh, she s got used to some of my ways now. I just won t be kept out of my own kitchen when I want to come in. "Good for you, Ellen!" said her husband, with a cheery laugh, a cheerier laugh than she had heard him give for many a month. "That s the right Harney spunk. When we move back into the old house, you and Agatha 246 PROPHET S LANDING shall make soda biscuits every night if you like." Do you truly mean that you d like to go back, Joel?" she asked. "Why, I almost think I do, Ellen," he said with seriousness. " I d like to get home again, I find. This is n t really home, somehow." "It never has been so to me," she said with a sigh. "Nor to me, really. I thought it would be in time. But we did n t come in under the right conditions for that. I see it now." She was silent. I almost wish things could be as they were in father s day," he went on. "Then we had enough, as you once said; and what we had, we took satisfaction in. He had the right philosophy of life, after all." There was another silence. "The one thing I saw, this afternoon, after Jay had said those words, was that I had to set our boy right. That has to be done at any cost. He means everything to me, of course. "He s a good boy at heart," Mrs. Harney said, "sound and warm and true." "Yes, I know that well. I suppose I counted too much on it. I never thought of his taking TWO IN COUNCIL 247 on wrong ideas. The fact is, I Ve never taken time to get really intimate with him. That s one thing I mean to do. After all, what are our lives worth except for our children, Ellen?" "He admires you above everyone in the world, Joel." "Well, then, to set him right, I Ve got to set myself right. That s what I began to see, little by little, while I was out tramping the roads this afternoon." Mrs. Harney rose to clear away the supper- things, moving quietly about the room while he went on talking. "He said I tripped George up. Did I, Ellen?" I think you hurt his life, Joel. "So Elder Potter told me tonight, when I asked him. So other people seem to think. I can t fully see why I should be responsible. Business is always business. But perhaps I m wrong. And there s no way of making it right with him now. Poor George ! We used to be close friends once." He sat silently thinking. "Of course, Susan would n t touch a cent for herself. But I think she 11 let me help Timmie. I d like to pay for the best education 248 PROPHET S LANDING and training he can get, and then give him a good start in life." "That would be fine, Joel!" exclaimed Mrs. Harney. "And yes, I think Susan would consent to a thing like that." "Then there s Mrs. Cass," continued her husband thoughtfully. "Elder Potter de clared I had a hand in hurting old Martin s life too. Did I?" "How can I say, Joel? You troubled him very much." "Well, I think it s pushing responsibility pretty far. But Mrs. Cass is penniless, I hear. Martin carried a good life-insurance policy, but the company refused to pay, on account of his suicide. I 11 see that she gets paid. I 11 get my lawyer to make her suppose the com pany has paid it after all." Mrs. Harney laughed out with pleasure. "Well, you have been thinking, Joel." "Then Elder Potter brought up another matter. Do you know, it s astonishing, the things that old man knows about everything. Nothing seems to escape him. This time, it was. Captain Prout." "Captain Prout!" Yes. You know we bought his little line of boats, the railroad branch did; and we were TWO IN COUNCIL 249 able to force the purchase at about half price. It was my idea, I suppose. Mind you, I don t say that I see any reason why we ought n t to have bought to the best advantage. He felt pretty badly about it, it seems; how badly, I did n t know, till old Potter told me. Of course we kept him on in charge; and I think I 11 see that his salary gets a jump. I m willing to pay the difference myself, and he 11 never suspect." Mrs. Harney laughed again. She had fin ished her work, and now returned to her chair by his side. "Why, Joel, I believe yon re really enjoy ing all this planning, she said. "Well, my dear, if you make up your mind to do a thing, there s no sense in doing it half-heartedly. Now there s Ezra McNamara and his wife. She came and told me, not long ago, how much she d lost in some of those stock fluctuations. She as good as accused me of stealing it. "Joel!" Yes, she did n t mince words. He laughed grimly. "I won t deny they hurt, though she never suspected it. I offered her a check in full, but she would n t hear of such a thing. Shall I try again?" 250 PROPHET S LANDING Mrs. Harney considered. "The money was left her by her Uncle Wells," she said. "Could n t he happen to leave her some more ! "He s dead!" "That -need n t make any difference. A lawyer can easily fix it. Make her think they Ve discovered a codicil to the will." "Why, Ellen!" remonstrated Mr. Harney, in pretended reproof. "I m surprised at such double dealing." "It s perfectly innocent, and she 11 never take a cent outright," Ellen declared. "Well, if you say it s innocent, I know it is. But, Ellen, that s only one case. There are no end of people who have lost money in those railway stock matters. Mr. Potter actually says that I and certain of the other directors ought to make good every cent if we could." "Was it your fault that they lost?" He squared his shoulders defensively. "I don t see that it was anybody s fault except their own," he answered. Did you really put the prices up and down, as people said!" He paused a moment. "We were able to move them about, yes," he admitted. "But what of that I" TWO IN COUNCIL 251 1 What of it, yourself, Joel?" He paused again. "I can t say I see the wrong. It s done every year and every day, in State Street and Wall Street." "But you knew in advance where you could put the price?" "Well, yes." "Is n t that like like what they call loaded dice?" "Oh, come, Ellen!" he remonstrated, stung by the question. "Is n t it, Joel?" "Well, that s just the way Elder Potter put it to me tonight. Oh, he did n t mince words, any more than Mrs. McNamara did! I ve heard a good many things to interest me, in one way or another, since four o clock this afternoon. I m not by any means ready to admit em all. Maybe I 11 come to, in time. But if there s any question at all of wrong in this stock matter, why, I m willing to try to make it right." "You can t, Joel. How can you adjust a hundred little wrongs, that you could n t trace, and that would n t let themselves be adjusted if you tried?" "I daresay that s true. I can t bring George Burroughs back either. Don t think 252 PEOPHET S LANDING that I don t realize it all. There s no such thing as really making amends in life, when you come to think of it." He sighed. "Well, we 11 do as much of it as we can. Wherever I hear of any harm I ve done anyone, inten tionally or not, I 11 undo it as far as I can. I Ve changed some of my ideas. I had to, you see, if I wanted Jay to change his." He got up and began to pace back and forth. "We can t go back to father s days. But perhaps we can go back to some of his ways. I m going to try to at the store. I don t mean that I expect to put the molasses-barrel and the butter-tubs back exactly where they used to stand, nor to close out the new lines; that would be only foolishness. But I think I 11 try running the place again on his motto of live and let live, even if it does n t make so much money. "And the Wollaston store too?" she in quired. That s a harder question. It d likely end in that store s not making any money at all. I m afraid I Ve showed those Wollaston storekeepers a few tricks that they could turn against me now." "Well, then, you could close it up." "Yes, I could close it up. But that would TWO IN COUNCIL 253 be rather extreme. "Well, I have n t decided about that matter. We 11 see. I 11 modify things some, to start with. Can t reform everything all at once, eh! not even myself." His tone had a touch of humor, yet Mrs. Harney realized more and more as he talked, how keenly the events of the day had come home to him, and how active his restless thoughts had since been. "Do you think Steve and Olive would come back to the Landing to live, Ellen?" he asked suddenly. She shook her head. "I m afraid not. Steve has a pretty independent spirit. And his position in Boston seems a very promis ing one." "Well, I suppose losing Olive is just another thing we can t undo. If he d come back, I could put him in Thornton s place in the town store." "He won t, I m sure." "They could have this house to live in, too. What shall we do with it, Ellen? Sell it to Pierce? He 11 buy it in a flash. He s often said he d like to live out here. Or had we really better stay on in it ourselves, after all? I think we can be happier in it now than we have been." 254 PROPHET S LANDING "It s hard to say, Joel. We 11 have to think it over. We 11 have a good deal to think over, won t we? The main thing is that you re willing to think things over." He stopped in front of her. "Yes," he said, "I suppose that is the main thing. Strange how things have come about, is n t it?" Mrs. Harney stood up and put her hands in her husband s. Her face was illumined, as she quoted softly: "Behold, a great and strong wind rent the mountains and brake in pieces the rocks, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind, an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earth quake, a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire ; and after the fire, a still, small voice." THE END UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A 000118695 6 : -