THE INVENTOR
Freddy Laurance usually opened his mouth to ask questions, rarely to
talk about himself. In the newspaper world, confidences may mean copy,
given that such are worthy to appear in print. Therefore, as the young
man found, it is just as well to be sparing of personal details, and
having made this discovery, he was careful to keep his tongue between
his teeth in all matters dealing with his private life. This
reticence, useful in business, but wholly unnecessary in
friendship--particularly when the friendship had to do with Dan
Halliday--had grown upon Laurance to such an extent that he said
very little about his love affair. Dan, being a genial soul, and a
fellow-sufferer in the cause of Cupid, and having a heart-whole liking
for the journalist, resented being shut out in this way. He therefore
made it his business to extract Freddy's love story from him when the
two were in the train making for Sheepeak, _viâ_ Thawley and Beswick.
"Where did you meet her?" asked Dan abruptly, as they had the
compartment to themselves, and he had exhausted not only the
newspapers but the magazines.
"Her?" repeated Laurance, who was calmly smoking, with his feet on the
opposite seat, "what her?"
"The her. The one girl in the world for you?"
"Oh, bosh!" Freddy colored, and looked pleasantly embarrassed.
"Is it? Perhaps you are right!" and Dan began to hum a simple little
American song, entitled, "I wonder who's kissing her now."
Laurance took this personally. "No one is! I can trust her."
"Trust who?" asked Dan innocently.
"The person you mentioned now. Miss Vincent, Mildred."
"Did I mention her? Well, now you recall her name, I did. Old man, we
are the best of friends, but this fourth estate habit of holding your
confounded tongue is getting on my nerves. Give yourself a treat by
letting yourself go. I am ready to listen," and he leaned back with a
seraphic smile.
Freddy did not fence any longer, but came out with details. After all,
since he could trust Dan, he was beginning to think that it would be
delightful to talk his heart empty. "She's the dearest girl in the
world," was the preamble.
Dan twiddled his thumbs. "We all say that. Now Lillian----"
"Mildred! We are speaking of her." Freddy spoke very fast lest his
friend should interrupt. Since Dan wanted confidences, Dan should have
them given to him in a most thorough manner. "Mildred is an angel, and
her uncle is an old respectable, clever beast."
"Yes!" said Halliday persuasively. "I thought in that way of Sir
Charles when he interrupted private conversations between Lillian and
myself. I am of the same opinion as regards Sir John Moon because----"
"Yes, I know what you mean by because. But with regard to Mildred----"
"Who is an angel. Yes?"
"I met her a year ago in London--Regent Street, to be precise as to
locality. A snob spoke to her without an introduction, so she appealed
to me, and I punched his head. Then I escorted her home----"
"To Hillshire? What a knight-errant," chuckled Dan.
"Don't be an ass. I escorted her to the Guelph Hotel in Jermyn Street,
where she and her uncle were staying. The uncle appreciated the
service I did for his niece, and made me welcome, especially when he
found that, as a newspaper man, I was able to talk in print about his
machines. For an inventor the old man had an excellent idea of
business."
"Inventors being generally fools. So you called the next day to see if
Miss Vincent's nerves were better."
Freddy cast a look of surprise at Dan's dark face. "How did you guess
that, Halliday? Well, I did, and I got on better with Solomon Vincent
than ever."
"Undoubtedly you got on better with the niece," murmured Dan,
mischievously.
"Well," Laurance colored, "you might put it that way."
"I do put it that way," said Dan firmly, "and from personal
experience."
"Not with Mildred. Well, to make a long story short, I saw a great
deal of them in town, and took them to dinner and got them theatre
seats, and fell deeper in love every day. Then Vincent asked me to
Sheepeak to inspect his machines and I wrote several articles in _The
Moment_."
"Ah! I thought I remembered Vincent's name. I read those articles. But
you didn't mention the niece."
"Ass!" said the journalist scornfully, "is it likely! Well, that's the
whole yarn. I've been several times to Sheepeak and Vincent likes me."
"To the extent of taking you as a nephew?" inquired Dan, thoughtfully.
"No, hang him! That's why I call him a beast. He says that Mildred is
necessary to his comfort as a housekeeper, and won't allow her to
marry me. She is such a good girl that she obeys her uncle because he
brought her up when her parents died, and has been a father to her."
"A dull romance and a league-long wooing, with the lady in Hillshire
and the swain in London. How long is this unsatisfactory state of
things going to last, my son?"
"I don't know," rejoined Fred mournfully, "until her uncle dies,
perhaps."
"Then let us hope he'll fly once too often," said Dan cheerfully; "but
do not be downhearted. I am sure it will be all right. I shall dance
at your wedding and you will dance at mine. By the way, there's no
necessity to talk to Vincent or his niece about our endeavors to spot
this gang."
"Of course not. The matter won't be mentioned. All I am talking about
is private, and you come to Sheepeak with me to get a machine so as to
win the London to York race. It will be an advertisement for Vincent."
"That's all right. And Mildred--talk about her, old man. I know you
are dying to explain the kind of angel she really is. Lull me to sleep
with lover's rhapsodies"--a request, with which Freddy, now having
broken the ice, was perfectly willing to comply. He described
Mildred's appearance with a lover's wealth of details, drew attention
to her many admirable qualities, quoted her speeches, praised her
talents, and thus entertained his friend--and incidentally
himself--all the way to Thawley. Dan closed his eyes and listened,
puffing comfortably at his pipe. Occasionally he threw in a word, but
for the greater part of the time held his peace, and let Laurance
babble on about his darling's perfections. Secretly, Dan did not think
these could match Lillian's in any way.
At the great manufacturing town of Thawley, which was overshadowed by
a cloud of dun smoke, the travellers left the main line, and crossed
to another platform where they boarded the local train to Beswick.
This station was only six miles down the line, and they turned on
their tracks to reach it, since it branched off from the main artery
into the wilds. It nestled at the foot of a lofty hill covered from
top to bottom with trees, now more or less leafless. Laurance informed
his companion that there was a ruined abbey hidden in the wood, and
also pointed out several interesting places, for he was well
acquainted with the locality. At Beswick they piled their bags on a
ramshackle old trap, and proceeded in this to climb up a long,
winding, steep road, which mounted gradually to the moors. As the year
was yet wintry and the hour was late, the air became wonderfully keen,
and--as Freddy said--inspiriting. Dan, however, did not find it so, as
he felt quite sleepy, and yawned the whole way until the trap stopped
at the solitary hotel of Sheepeak, a rough stone house, with thick
walls and a slate roof.
The landlady, raw-boned, sharp-eyed, and not at all beautiful, met
them at the door, smiling in what was meant for an amiable manner when
she saw Laurance. "Oh, you're here again?" she said defiantly, and Dan
noticed that beyond the Northern burr she did not reproduce the
country dialect.
"Yes, Mrs. Pelgrin, and I have brought a friend to stay three or four
days. We want two bedrooms and a sitting-room, and supper straight
away."
"You shall have them," said Mrs. Pelgrin, still defiantly.
"And the price will be a pound each for the four days," ventured
Freddy.
"With ten shillings extra for the sitting-room," said Mrs. Pelgrin,
fiercely.
"Oh, come now."
"I'll not take you in for less."
"Well," put in Dan, shrugging, "sooner than stand here in the cold and
argue, I shall pay the extra ten shillings."
"Cold, do you call it? Cold!" Mrs. Pelgrin's tone was one of scorn.
"Ha, cold!" and she led the way through a flagged stone passage to a
large and comfortable room at the back of the house. "Will this suit
you?"
"That's all right, Mrs. Pelgrin," said Freddy, throwing himself down
on a slippery horse-hair sofa--"and supper?"
"You'll have it when it's ready, no sooner and no later," barked the
ogress, leaving the room. "Cold is it?" and she laughed hoarsely.
"I say, Freddy," observed Halliday in a lazy tone, "why is the good
lady so very savage?"
"She isn't, Mrs. Pelgrin is quite fond of me. I've stayed here often."
"Fond of you?" echoed Dan, with a chuckle. "Good Lord, how does she
speak to those she isn't fond of?"
"It's Northern brusqueness. She's honest----"
"But rude. The two seem to go together with many people. They think
they will be taken for rascals if they are decently polite."
Laurance remonstrated. "Mrs. Pelgrin is a rough diamond."
"I like my jewels polished. However, here we are and here we stay, and
here we eat, if that amiable lady will bring in supper. Then I shall
go to bed, as I shall certainly yawn my head off if I don't."
"But it's just after six," cried Laurance. "I want to take you to see
Vincent to-night--this evening, that is."
"Go yourself, and see the beautiful Mildred," muttered Dan drowsily.
"Two's company and three's a crowd. I'm going to bed"; and, in spite
of Laurance's arguments against such sloth, to bed he went, after a
brisk fight with Mrs. Pelgrin over a fire in his sleeping apartment.
He said that he wanted one, while the landlady declared that it was
unnecessary. Finally Dan got his own way, and when the fire was
blazing, Mrs. Pelgrin said good-night.
"But you're no more nor a butterfly," she informed her guest, and went
out banging the door, with muttering remarks concerning people who
felt cold.
"No doubt this weather is here regarded as tropical," murmured Dan,
getting into bed and referring to the weather, and he smiled over Mrs.
Pelgrin's manners until he fell asleep.
Next morning Laurance woke him at eight, and Dan grumbled about
getting up, although he was assured that he had slept the clock round.
However, a cold bath soon brisked him up, and he came down to the
sitting-room with an excellent appetite for breakfast. Mrs. Pelgrin
brought it in, and again joked in her fierce way about the cold, which
the butterfly--as she again termed Dan--was supposed to feel so
keenly. Laurance talked about Mildred, who had been delighted to see
him, but mentioned regretfully that he did not think that Dan would
get the machine he was in search of.
"Why not?" asked Mr. Halliday, lighting his pipe and finishing his
third cup of coffee. "Vincent wants his aeroplanes exploited, doesn't
he? And where will he find a better chance than for an experienced
man, such as I am, flying his latest invention in _The Moment's_
London to York race?"
"Vincent's a queer fish. That's all I can say," retorted Laurance.
"Well, you can't say more and you can't say less, I suppose. We'll go
and have a look at the queer fish in his pond whenever you like."
"At eleven o'clock then."
"Right oh! I can talk to the uncle and you can talk to the niece. It's
a fair division of labor."
This arrangement was willingly agreed to by Laurance, as Dan was
certain it would be since he saw that his friend was fathoms deep in
love. Afterwards, the two went out of doors and surveyed the
landscape. Sheepeak was situated on the top of a lofty tableland, the
village being a tolerably large collection of substantial stone
houses, whence the moors spread north and south, east and west. From
where they were, the friends could see the green squares of cultivated
fields, the purple bloom of the heather, and the azure hues which
distance gave to the distant mountains. Here and there the vast
country, which looked enormously large from the elevation whence they
surveyed it, dipped into verdant dales, snugly clothed with forests,
and sprinkled with manor-houses and villages, big and little. The
lands were so far-stretching and the prospect so extensive, that Dan
became mightily impressed with the magnitude of the sky. It covered
them like a huge inverted cup, and as there was nothing to break its
league-long sweep, Dan felt quite small in the immensity which
surrounded him above and below.
"I feel like a pill in the Desert of Sahara," said Mr. Halliday,
sighing.
"What is the sensation of feeling like a pill," rejoined Laurance
drily, for he was not an imaginative individual.
"Only a poet can explain, Freddy, and you are very earthy."
"I never knew you were a genius," snapped Laurance, with a shrug.
"You have much to learn," replied Dan reprovingly; "and as it's near
eleven o'clock, suppose we light out for Vincent."
Freddy agreed, and skirting the village for three-quarters of a mile,
they suddenly came upon a small cottage, with walls and roof of
yellowish stone covered with lichen, and standing in a small garden of
wind-tormented vegetation. A low stone wall divided this from the high
road, and the visitors entered through a small wooden gate to pass up
a cobble-stone walk to the modest door. But the cottage itself was
dwarfed wholly by huge sheds of wood covered with roofs of galvanized
tin, which loomed up suddenly behind it, on a vast scale more in
keeping with the character of the landscape. These were the workshops
of Vincent, where he built his machines and housed them from prying
eyes. The fields at the back cultivated into smooth lawns were where
the aeroplanes started to fly over hill and dale, to the wonderment of
the inhabitants.
"Though they are pretty well used to Vincent's vagaries by this time,"
said Freddy, ending his explanation.
Mildred received them in the small parlor of the cottage which was
about the size of a doll's drawing-room, and expressed herself as
pleased to make the acquaintance of Mr. Halliday. Her uncle, she
mentioned, was busy as usual in his workshop, but would see the
visitors in half an hour. While she explained, Dan took stock of her,
and admitted that she was really a very amiable and pretty girl,
though not a patch on Lillian. But then Dan did not care for tall
ladies with olive complexions, blue eyes, dark hair, and the regal
melancholy look of discrowned queens. Mildred--the name suited
her--was too tall and stately for his taste, which approved more of
little golden-haired women, fairy-like and frolicsome. Miss Vincent
looked serious and thoughtful, and although her smile was delicious,
she smiled very seldom. It seemed to Dan that her solitary life in
these moorlands and in the company--when she enjoyed it--of her morose
uncle, made the girl sober beyond her years, which were not more than
two-and-twenty. However, many minds many tastes, and Dan could not
deny but what Freddy's fair Saxon looks went very well with the Celtic
mystic appearance of the inventor's niece. They were a handsome
couple, indeed, but much too solemn in looks and character for Dan,
whose liking leaned to the frivolous side of things.
"Don't you find it dull here, Miss Vincent?" asked Halliday casually.
"Dull!" she echoed, turning her somewhat sad eyes of dark blue in his
direction, "oh, not at all. Why I have a great deal to do. We have
only one servant and I assist in the housework. My uncle is not easy
to cater for, as he has many likes and dislikes with regard to food.
Then he employs a certain number of workmen, and I have to pay them
every Saturday. Indeed, I look after all the financial part of my
uncle's business."
"Is it a business, or a whim--a hobby?" inquired Dan respectfully,
for, being frivolous, he was struck with awe at the multitude of Miss
Vincent's employments.
"Well, more of the last than the first perhaps," said Mildred smiling
at his respectful expression. "Uncle Solomon really doesn't care for
publicity. All his aim is to construct a perfect machine, and he is
always inventing, and improving, and thinking of new ways in which to
obtain the mastery of the air."
"His machines have been tried by other people, though," remarked
Freddy.
"Oh, yes, and with great success. But uncle doesn't even read the
papers to see what is said about his aeroplanes, although he is always
anxious to read what other inventors are doing, and takes a great
interest in races across Channel and over the Alps, and from city to
city. But he is wrapt up in his own schemes, and works for twelve and
more hours out of the twenty-four in perfecting his machines. Public
applause or public rewards don't appeal to him, you see, Mr. Halliday;
it's the work itself."
"Ah, that is the true spirit of genius," said Dan approvingly, "a man
like that is sure to arrive."
"He will never arrive," said Miss Vincent quietly, "for as soon as he
arrives at one point, he only regards it as a resting-place to start
for a further goal. He doesn't care for food or drink, or clothes, or
politics, or amusements, or anything for which the ordinary man
strives. His machine takes up all his attention."
"Happy man. To have one strong aim and to be allowed to work at that
aim, is the true happiness of any man. I shall be glad to have a talk
with him."
"He doesn't talk much, Mr. Halliday."
"A man obsessed with one idea seldom does," retorted the young fellow.
"I hope, however, he will let me have a machine for this race. I can
handle any aeroplane, once it is explained to me, and Freddy here,
says that your uncle's machines have many improvements likely to tell
against competitors."
"I am not sure if he will let you have a machine," said Mildred, her
face clouding; "he is very jealous and whimsical you know."
"Like all inventors," murmured Laurance rising; "let us go and see
him."
"Yes," added Dan, also getting on his feet, "and then you take Freddy
away, Miss Vincent, and let me talk to your uncle. I shall get what I
want, somehow."
Mildred laughed and led the way out of the cottage by the back door.
"It is not an easy task you have set yourself to do," she said,
doubtfully; "here are the workshops and the buildings where the
machines are housed, and yonder is Uncle Solomon."
The buildings looked plebeian and gimcrack with their flimsy wooden
walls and tin roofs, impressive only in their magnitude. They must
have cost a deal to erect in this neighborhood where all the houses,
great and small, were of stone; and wood was comparatively scarce.
Vincent, as Dan considered, must be well-off to indulge in so
expensive a hobby. To be sure by racing he could gain prizes, and if
successful could also sell machines at a good figure; but from what
Mildred said, it seemed to Dan that her uncle had the true jealous
spirit of an inventor, and did not let his darlings go out of his
hands if he could help it. To live on this vast moorland, working at
his inventions and experimenting with his ideas, was enough for
Solomon Vincent, without the applause and rewards of the world.
Undoubtedly to carry out his plans he must have a private income, and
not an inconsiderable one at that.
"Uncle, this is Mr. Laurance and Mr. Halliday," said Mildred,
introducing the two young men, though the first did not require
mention.
But Vincent, like most inventors, was absent-minded, and it took him
quite a minute to recognize Laurance, whom he had not seen on the
previous night.
"Mr. Laurance and Mr. Halliday," he said casually, and turning from
the workman to whom he had been speaking--"yes, of course. You
understand about the propeller, Quinton," he added, again taking up
his conversation with the workman, "it must be seen to at once," and
quite oblivious of the company he went on giving instructions, until
the man went away to do his task, and Mildred touched her uncle's arm.
"This is Mr. Laurance and Mr.----"
"Of course I know it is Mr. Laurance," said Vincent testily, "do you
think I am blind? How do you do, Laurance? Good-by, I am busy."
"And this is Mr. Halliday who wants a machine," went on Mildred
persuasively.
"Indeed. Then Mr. Halliday shan't get one," retorted Vincent, and
sauntered into the nearest shed with a scowl on his lean face. He was
an acrid-looking man of fifty, with untidy gray hair and an untrimmed
beard.
"Follow him, and he will talk," said Mildred hastily, "I shall remain
here with Freddy, as uncle doesn't like many people to be about him."
"He is not easy to get on with," sighed Dan, "I can see that."
However, he took the girl's advice and went into the shed after the
ungracious inventor, leaving the lovers to return to the cottage
parlor, which they did forthwith. Laurance was quite astute enough to
lose no time, since the moments spent with Mildred were all golden and
not easily obtainable.
Dan marched into the shed with a fine air of possession, and again
surveyed Vincent, who was examining some specifications near a window.
The man was carelessly dressed in a shabby suit of blue serge, and
seemed to care little about his personal appearance. Marking once more
his shaggy hair and beard, and yellow skin considerably wrinkled, the
young man went up to him. As if waking from a dream, Vincent looked
up, and Dan met the gaze of two very keen dark eyes, whose expression
was anything but amiable.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" demanded the owner of the eyes
crossly.
"My name is Halliday. I want a machine to race between London and
York. I have just been introduced to you by your niece."
"My niece should have more sense than to have brought you here," cried
the inventor fiercely; "you come to spy out my ideas and to steal
them."
"I assure you I don't," said Dan drily. "I am not a genius as you
are."
"All the more reason you should pick my brains," snapped Vincent in no
way mollified by the compliment as Dan intended he should be.
Halliday laughed. "If I did, I could make no use of my pickings, Mr.
Vincent, as you may guess. I can handle a machine, but I can't put one
together."
"Who told you about me?" demanded the man suspiciously.
"Laurance."
"He's a meddlesome fool."
"Well," said Dan cheerfully, "there may be two opinions about that you
know."
"I don't want him, and I don't want you, and I don't want any one. Why
do you come and bother me when I don't want you?"
"Because my wants are to be considered. See here, Mr. Vincent," added
Halliday in a coaxing voice, for he saw that it was necessary to humor
this clever man like a child, "there is to be a race between London
and York for a big prize given by _The Moment_, the paper Mr. Laurance
works for. I wish to compete, but my machine isn't so good as I should
like it to be. I hear that you have made several improvements which
make for speed and easier handling of aeroplanes. Let me have one of
your latest, and I'll share the prize with you. It's two thousand, you
know."
"I don't want money," snapped Vincent abruptly.
"I congratulate you," said Dan coolly; "and yet large sums must be
needed to help you to build machines. You must be rich. Are you rich?"
Vincent grew a dusky red, and glanced in an odd way over his shoulder,
as if he expected to find some one at his elbow. "Mind your own
business," he said in a harsh voice, and with suppressed fury;
"whether I'm rich or not is my business. You shan't have an aeroplane
of mine. Clear out."
Dan did clear out, but as he went, wondered why the man was so angry
and confused. He seemed quite afraid of the simple question that had
been put to him.