“OUR CONGRESSMAN-ELECT.”
On their return to New York, Jim plunged into business. It was settled
that they were to start on their tour immediately after the wedding,
going first to the Bermudas, and from there to wherever their fancy
dictated. And as the duration of their stay was as uncertain as was the
direction in which they were to travel, Jim was anxious to place his
business in such shape as to require as little attention from him in
the near future as possible.
This required considerable labor, for he had a great many different
matters to arrange.
First, he wanted a good, reliable agent, and for all the city seemed
flooded with men out of employment, Jim found the proper man very
difficult to find, for he not only required an honest, capable business
man, whom he could trust to collect his rents, and have general
supervision over his estate during his absence, but it was also
necessary that the agent should be a kindly, sympathetic man, who would
judiciously care for some two score of poor people in whom Jim was
interested.
First he tried advertising. He drew up a short advertisement, stating
in plain terms just what he wanted, and for the next few days he was
besieged at the house by innumerable applicants. There were applicants
of all ages and styles; applicants who were highly educated, and
applicants who could neither read nor write; applicants who were timid
and humbly besought a trial; and applicants who were “cheeky,” and
demanded the position as their right, and who generally abused Jim
when they did not get it. There was the chronic applicant who was
always applying for a position and never obtaining one, and the young
applicant making his first attempt at self-support.
It was strange that out of all these applicants Jim could not find one
to suit him. But his ideas were well set, and he had made up his mind
as to just what he wanted. So he sat patiently under this infliction
that he had brought upon himself as long as he could stand it. Then he
fled, and the servant was instructed to inform all other applicants
that the position was filled, Jim considering that this small lie was
justifiable under the circumstances.
But instead of being discouraged, Jim was only the more determined to
obtain his man. He thought he would try the intelligence offices. So
he started early in the morning, in order to visit as many of them
as possible unless he found his man. Very little of this, however,
convinced him that the class of help he wanted did not patronize these
institutions. So he very soon gave them up.
“I guess I must be mighty hard to suit,” thought Jim, as, hungry but
undaunted, he started home for dinner. “But I am going to get him
somehow, if he is in New York.”
As he turned into his street, he noticed in front of him the figure of
a tall, elderly man, dressed in cleanly brushed but threadbare black
clothes, who was walking rapidly on ahead of him. He was evidently
looking for some place, for he would sometimes stop to scan the number
of the house he was passing, and then would hurry feverishly along.
Jim, whose strong, rapid stride kept him near this stranger, once or
twice caught sight of his face. It was rather a pleasing face, with
long, gray whiskers; a kindly-looking face, Jim thought, although it
was a very anxious-looking face just now.
He had walked on for a block or two, watching the old man curiously,
before it struck Jim that this might be another applicant. And it was.
For, as soon as the stranger arrived at Jim’s number, he mounted the
steps and rang the bell.
Jim could see by the restless motion of his hands that the old man was
very nervous, although he was evidently trying hard to conceal it.
The door opened just as Jim reached the house. There were a few words
passed between the man and the servant, and then the door was closed,
and the man turned wearily to go down the steps.
Jim was absolutely frightened at the change in the man’s face as he
stepped aside to let him pass. It was overspread with that grayish
pallor that only comes over the face of the aged, and his steps, which
a moment before were hurried and elastic, now were feeble and slow. He
seemed to creep rather than walk.
“Poor fellow!” thought Jim, “he has been buoyed up by hopes. I have
half a mind to go after him.”
Even as he thought thus, the man turned, and, seeing Jim on the steps,
looking at him, stopped as if to return. Seeing this, Jim motioned to
him.
“I saw you coming from my door,” he said kindly, “and I thought perhaps
you wished to see me.”
“I did,” the old man replied hopelessly. “That is, I wished to apply
for a position; but your servant tells me it is filled.”
“I told her to say so,” said Jim candidly. “I have been troubled by the
wrong class of applicants, and they became a nuisance; but I have not
filled the place yet. You see, I am rather hard to please.”
The old man’s face lighted up again.
“I hope I can please you, sir,” he said. “I would be pleased to answer
any questions.”
“Come in with me,” replied Jim, “and I will see you about it.”
They entered the house together, and went at once to the library.
“There,” said Jim, opening his desk, and giving the man pen and paper,
“be pleased to write your name.”
He turned away as he spoke, and crossed the room. He had hardly done
so, when he was startled by a gasping cry from the old man. He turned
to him at once.
“Are you ill?” he asked. “Is there anything the matter?”
The old man made no reply. On the desk stood a picture of little
Clinton--one that Jim had had framed and kept constantly before him.
This the old man had seized in both hands, and he lay back in his
chair, staring at it blankly. His face was deathly pale, while his eyes
blazed fiercely.
“Where did you get it?” he gasped. “How came this here?”
This was certainly strange conduct, and Jim was not altogether pleased.
“That is our little boy,” he said shortly. “Does it remind you of some
one you know?”
The old man stared at him.
“Your little boy?” he gasped. “I thought it was--that is----” He
stopped to recover himself. “I beg your pardon,” he said humbly. “But
it recalled another face. I am sorry if I have annoyed you.” And he
turned to the desk and wrote his name, “Arthur Harland,” in a bold,
plain hand. “I beg your pardon,” he said again in that same humble tone.
Jim was rather pleased with him, in spite of his strange conduct. He
asked him several questions, and received satisfactory replies.
He had been out of a position for some months, the old man said; and
Jim could see how poverty had gripped him during that time.
He gave a very good list of references, giving, among others, the name
of Jim’s lawyer. He would leave the question of compensation with Mr.
Darling.
Jim thought he had his man at last.
“I know some of these names,” he said, “and will make inquiries. If I
find you worthy of confidence, I will give you the position. If you
will call to-morrow at this time I will let you know. In the meantime,
you can do a small favor for me.” And Jim inclosed ten dollars in an
envelope, and wrote a line stating, that this was an advance on the
first month’s salary, if he was employed. “There,” he said, putting it
in the man’s hand; “now call to-morrow.”
Harland, supposing the envelope to be directed, placed it in an inside
pocket, and, after another lingering glance at the picture on the desk,
bowed himself out.
Jim made the necessary inquiries that afternoon, and as everything was
satisfactory, Mr. Harland was duly installed as his manager, secretary,
and general factotum; and, having at last got this burden off his mind,
Jim proceeded with his more important business.
It was necessary that there should be considerable ready money to cover
the expenses of the proposed tour, and Jim looked about him to see
which of their several properties could be sold to the best advantage.
Their aunt had left them, with the rest of the estate, a plot of some
hundred acres of wild land situated somewhere in northern Michigan.
This was supposed to be of little value, but he decided to sell it for
whatever it would bring.
Having once seen the value of advertising, Jim tried it again, and
caused to be published in several Michigan papers a description of the
land, with a notice that it was for sale.
“I must be lucky in my advertising,” he said to Norine one morning at
breakfast. “You remember my advertising for help?”
Norine laughed.
“Yes, I remember it. I was kept in the house for two days by it,” she
said. “Do you consider that lucky?”
“Why, yes,” replied Jim coolly. “It was something to keep you from
gadding around so much; and then it certainly attracted attention
enough. That is what advertising is for. But I wanted to speak of
something else.”
“Well, you can, dear,” said Norine sweetly. “I won’t prevent you.” And
then she added indignantly: “_My_ gadding around! The idea!”
Jim laughed.
“The shoe must have pinched a little,” he said slyly.
“I thought you were going to speak about something else, sir?”
“Well, I am, if you give me a chance. I was about to say that I had
received another proof of my marvelous luck in advertising. Perhaps you
are not aware that we are the joint owners of nearly a thousand acres
of land somewhere up in Michigan?”
“No, I was not aware of it.”
“Well, it is so,” continued Jim; “and as I thought best to sell
the land, if I could find any one weak enough to buy it, I had it
advertised in the Michigan papers; and mark the result! It is only a
week or so ago that I wrote the advertisement, and I have an answer
already.”
“Wonderful!” exclaimed Norine, in mock astonishment. “What a clever
fellow you are! But why do you wish to sell it?”
“Because,” replied he, “a certain sister of mine is going to be
married, and then proposes to drag me over the greater part of the
world with her, and that costs money.”
“I drag you?” cried Norine. “Just as if you hadn’t proposed it
yourself!”
“Did I?” he inquired innocently. “Well, perhaps I did. But, Norry,
there is one thing about this that strikes me as being odd.”
“What is it, dear?”
“Why, we had supposed the land to be nearly valueless, and here is a
man--and a lawyer”--Jim laid convincing stress on that word--“who lives
right there, and should know something about it, makes an offer for it
as soon as it is placed in the market. That land may be more valuable
than we supposed,” he concluded thoughtfully.
“What are you going to do about it, dear?” inquired Norine.
“I don’t know,” said Jim slowly. “That is, I do know,” he added
determinedly. “By George! I will run up there and see it for myself.”
Norine clapped her hands joyfully.
“How nice!” she said. “When do we start?”
“Well,” replied her brother coolly, “I had no idea _we_ were going to
start. I thought a girl who expected to be married within a month or so
would have enough to do at home.”
“Now don’t be mean, Jim,” cried Norine. “You know I am all done. Of
course you will take me, Jim?” she coaxed. “There is plenty of time.”
“I don’t know,” said he. “How long will it take you to get ready?”
“I can be ready in half an hour,” she replied promptly.
“Well, that settles it. Of course you can’t get ready in half an hour.
But if you can get ready in two or three hours, you can go.”
And he went out to telegraph the lawyer that he was coming.
Norine made her preparations, and found time enough to write to
Conway, telling him that they were going away to be gone a week or ten
days. And shortly afterward the brother and sister set out on their
unexpected journey.
They were in a hurry, but not enough so as to make the journey
fatiguing. So it was the evening of the third day thereafter when they
arrived at the city of sand and sawdust, and were driven to the hotel.
Immediately after they arrived, Jim hunted up Mr. Coleman, and
introduced himself.
“I am glad to see you,” said Peter heartily. He knew this young man was
rich, and his business might be worth getting. “You are just in time,”
he went on, shaking Jim’s hand with vigor. “We are going to give a
little reception to-night to our congressman-elect. I will be glad to
introduce you.”
“I am very sorry,” replied Jim politely; “but my sister is with me, and
I should not care to leave her alone.”
“Not necessary,” said Peter. “Elwell--that’s our congressman’s name--is
going to speak from the hotel veranda, so you need not leave the house.
I will secure a good place for your sister.”
And Peter bustled off to do as he said, while Jim returned to their
rooms.
He was not greatly interested in this congressman-elect; at least, not
until after supper. So they had that meal sent to their rooms to avoid
the crowd, and dawdled so long over it that the speaker had commenced
his oration before they had finished.
A boy came to the door.
“If you please,” he said, “Mr. Coleman sent me to say that a chair was
reserved for Miss Darling.”
So Jim took her into a big room at the front of the house, where
a number of ladies were sitting, and after introducing her to Mr.
Coleman, left her in his charge and went downstairs for a smoke.
The room was a large one, having three windows, all open, for the
veranda from which the orator spoke was directly in front of these
windows, and the ladies were expected to see and hear all they could
through them.
They could hear well enough; but as the windows were very low, their
seeing was confined to the orator’s trousers, with an occasional
glimpse of his shoes.
After being seated, Norine looked calmly around her. Directly in front
of her were seated a pale, overdressed woman, and a fat jolly-looking
old man.
Some one said that this was the congressman’s wife and her father.
Norine made mental comment, woman-like, on her taste in the matter of
dress, and then sat back in her chair and listened.
What was there in that man’s voice that made it sound so strangely
familiar? Surely she had never met him. The sound was changed somewhat
by his being out of doors, and speaking with his back to the window;
but there was something in the cadence that haunted her. She tired of
wondering about it after a while, and thought she would return to her
room; but on looking around, she discovered that she was completely
hemmed in, so she stayed perforce.
She had lost the drift of the speech altogether, and was thinking
dreamily of her approaching wedding, when a sudden silence, followed
by a roar of applause, showed that the speech was at end; and a moment
later the congressman-elect entered the room through one of the open
windows.
Norine glanced at him curiously, and then started upright, with her
hands pressed over her heart. My God! Who could this be? Could the
dead return to life? Her sudden movement attracted attention, and drew
Elwell’s eyes to hers, and he staggered back against the wall, pale
with fright, and gasped:
“Norine!”
That was enough. It was he, and alive. She stretched out her arms to
him, and cried:
“Clinton! Oh, my God, Clinton!” and sank down upon the floor insensible.
“Who was she? What did it all mean?” the crowd cried, and were all
excitement.
Peter was the only cool one in the room. He pushed his way over to
Elwell, and seized him by the arm.
“Get out of here!” he said fiercely. “Get out of here at once! Her
brother is downstairs! Go out the back way and go to your office. Stay
there until I see you!”
Whispering thus, he forced the dazed man from the room; and then, by
telling them that he had gone home, got rid of Fanny and her father.
Norine was at once removed to her own room, and her brother sent for;
and by degrees the rest were sent away, talking of this strange girl
and the sensation she had created.
Peter waited until Jim came out of his sister’s room.
“What does this mean?” he said. “I thought your name was Darling?”
“It is Darling,” replied Jim. “My true name is Darling, but we were
brought up under the name of Bright. Now, tell me, where I can find
that scoundrel?” he cried, white with passion. “He tried to take my
life once, and by the living God, I will give him another chance!”
“Wait until morning,” said Peter smoothly. “Wait until morning; and if
he has wronged you, we will have satisfaction;” and Peter hurried off
to join Elwell, not quite decided on which side to act.
The ship was sinking, and to try and defend it against poor Norine
Bright was one thing; but to try to hold out against Norine Darling
and her money, let alone her brother, that was an entirely different
matter.
So, after promising to meet Mr. Darling the first thing in the morning,
Peter hurried off to see Elwell, as yet undecided on which side to cast
his lot.