termed--suffered undeniably. My appearance at the classroom door with a
cigarette, which I flung away just in time not to carry it into the
room, together with my chronic excuse of being "unprepared," moved the
driest of my professors to the witticism that I "divided my time between
a smoke and a flame." It was only as the finals drew near that I began
to appreciate that I would have the least trouble in "making my
tickets," as the phrase went. Sam Pleasants, Leo Wolffert and my other
friends had begun to be anxious for me for some time before--and both
Wolffert and John Marvel had come to me and suggested my working, at
least, a little: Wolffert with delicacy and warmth; John Marvel with
that awkward bluntness with which he always went at anything. I felt
perfectly easy in my mind then and met their entreaties scornfully.
"Why, I did well enough at the Intermediates," I said.
"Yes, but," said John Marvel, "Delilah was not here then----"
I was conscious, even though I liked the reference to Samson, of being a
little angered; but John Marvel looked so innocent and so hopelessly
friendly that I passed it by with a laugh and paid Miss Poole more
attention than ever.
The Debater's Medal had for a long time been, in the general estimation,
as good as accorded me; for I was a fluent, and I personally thought,
eloquent speaker, and had some reading. But when Wolffert entered the
debate, his speeches so far outshone mine that I knew at once that I was
beat. They appeared not so much prepared for show, as mine were, as to
come from a storehouse of reading and reflection. Wolffert, who had
begun to speak without any design of entering the contest for the Medal,
would generously have retired, but I would not hear of that. I called
Peck to account for a speech which I had heard of his making: that "the
contest was between a Jew and a jug"; but he denied making it, so I lost
even that satisfaction.
I worked for the Magazine Medal; but my "poems"--"To Cynthia" and "To
Felicia," and my fanciful sketches, though they were thought fine by our
set, did not, in the estimation of the judges, equal the serious and
solemn essays on Julius Cæsar and Alexander Hamilton, to which the prize
was awarded. At least, the author of those essays had worked over them
like a dog, and in the maturer light of experience, I think he earned
the prizes.
I worked hard--at least, at the last, for my law degree, and every one
was sure I would win--as sure as that Peck would lose; but Peck scraped
through while mine was held up--because the night before the degrees
were posted I insisted on proving to the professor who had my fate in
his hands, and whom I casually ran into, that a "gentleman drunk was a
gentleman sober," the idea having been suggested to my muddled brain by
my having just been good-natured enough to put to bed Peck. I finally
got the degree, but not until I had been through many tribulations, one
of which was the sudden frost in Miss Poole's manner to me. That girl
was like autumn weather. She could be as warm as summer one minute and
the next the thermometer would drop below the freezing point. I remember
I was her escort the evening of the Final Ball. She looked like Juno
with the flowers I had gone out in the country to get for her from an
old garden that I knew. Her face was very high bred and her pose
majestic. I was immensely proud of her and of myself as her escort--and
as Peck stalked in with a new and ill-fitting suit of "store-clothes"
on, I fancy I put on my toppiest air. But Peck had a shaft and he came
there to shoot it. As he passed near us, he said in a loud voice to
someone, "The B. L. list is posted."
"Are you through?" demanded the other.
"Yep."
"Anybody failed 't we expected to get through?"
"'T depends on who you expected to get through. Glave's not on it."
His shaft came home. I grew cold for a minute and then recovered myself.
I saw my partner's face change. I raised my head and danced on
apparently gayer than ever, though my heart was lead. And she played
her part well, too. But a few minutes later when Peck strutted up, a
decided cock to his bullet head, I heard her, as I turned away,
congratulate him on his success.
I slipped out and went over to the bulletin-board where the degree-men
were posted, and sure enough, I was not among them. A curious crowd was
still standing about and they stopped talking as I came up, so I knew
they had been talking about me. I must say that all showed concern, and
sympathy was written on every face. It was, at least, sweet to know that
they all considered it a cursed shame, and set my failure down to
hostility on the part of one of the professors. I was determined that no
one should know how hard hit I was, and I carried my head high till the
ball was out, and was so lofty with Miss Poole that she was mystified
into being very receptive. I do not know what might have happened that
night if it had not been for old John Marvel. I learned afterward that I
was pretty wild. He found me when I was wildly denouncing the law
professor who had failed to put me through in some minor course, and was
vowing that I would smash in his door and force my diploma from him. I
might have been crazy enough to attempt it had not old John gotten hold
of me. He and Wolffert put me to bed and stayed with me till I was
sober. And sober enough I was next day.
As I have said, I received my diploma finally; but I lost all the
prestige and pleasure of receiving it along with my class, and I passed
through some of the bitterest hours that a young man can know.
Among my friends at college--I might say among my warmest friends--was
my old crony "Jeams," or, as he spoke of himself to those whom he did
not regard as his social equals, or whom he wanted to amuse himself
with, "Mister Woodson"; a little later changed to "Professor Woodson,"
as more dignified and consonant with the managing class of the
institution. When I left for college he followed me, after a brief
interval, and first appeared as a waiter at the college boarding-house
where I boarded, having used my name as a reference, though at home he
had never been nearer the dining-room than the stable. Here he was
promptly turned out, and thereupon became a hanger-on of mine and a
"Factotum" for me and my friends.
He was now a tall, slim fellow, with broad shoulders and the muscles of
Atlas--almost but not quite black and with a laugh that would have wiled
Cerberus. He had the shrewdness of a wild animal, and was as imitative
as a monkey, and this faculty had inspired and enabled him to pick up
all sorts of acquirements, ranging from reading and writing to
sleight-of-hand tricks, for which he showed a remarkable aptitude.
Moreover, he had a plenty of physical courage, and only needed to be
backed by someone, on whom he relied, to do anything.
I was naturally attached to him and put up with his rascalities, though
they often taxed me sorely, while he, on his part, was so sincerely
attached to me, that I believe he would have committed any crime at my
bidding.
He considered my old clothes his property, and what was far more
inconvenient, considered himself the judge of the exact condition and
moment when they should pass from my possession to his.
He was a handsome rascal, and took at times such pride in his appearance
that, as he was about my size, I had often to exercise a close watch on
my meagre wardrobe. He had not only good, but really distinguished
manners, and, like many of his race, prided himself on his manners.
Thus, on an occasion when he passed Peck at college, and touched his hat
to him, a civility which Peck ignored, Wolffert said to him, "Jeams, Mr.
Peck don't appear to recognize you."
"Oh! yes," said Jeams, "he recognizes me, but he don't recognize what's
due from one gent'man to another."
"Are you going to keep on touching your hat to him?" asked Wolffert.
"Oh! yes, suh," said Jeams, "I takes keer o' my manners, and lets him
take keer o' hisn'."
Such was "Jeams," my "body servant," as he styled himself, on occasions
when he had an eye to some article of my apparel or stood in especial
need of a donation.
He hated Peck with as much violence as his easygoing nature was capable
of, and had no liking for Wolffert. The fact that the latter was a Jew
and yet my friend, staggered him, though he put up with him for my sake,
and on the night of my fight with Wolffert, I think he would, had he had
a chance, have murdered him, as I am sure he would have murdered the
professor who threw me on my degree. He got much fuller than I got that
night, and his real grief and shame were among the heaviest burdens I
had to bear.
Miss Poole returned home the next afternoon after the delivery of the
diplomas, and I heard that Peck went off on the same train with her.
I expected some sympathy from the girl for whom my devotion had cost me
so much; but she was as cool and sedate over my failure as if it had
been Peck's.
All she said was, "Why did not you win the honors?"
"Because I did not work enough for them."
"Why did not you work more?"
I came near saying, "Because I was fooling around you"; but I simply
said, "Because I was so certain of winning them."
"You showed rather bad judgment." That was all the sympathy I received
from her.
The old law professor when he took leave of me said--and I remember said
it gravely--"Mr. Glave, you have the burden of too many gifts to carry."
I was pleased by the speech and showed it. He looked at me keenly from
under his bushy eyebrows. "I commend to you the fable of the hare and
the tortoise. We shall hear of Peck."
I wondered how he knew I was thinking of Peck with his common face, hard
eyes, and stumpy legs.
"You shall hear of me, too," I declared with some haughtiness.
He only smiled politely and made no answer.
Nettled, I asked arrogantly, "Don't you think I have more sense--more
intellect than Peck?"
"More intellect--yes--much more.--More sense? No. Remember the fable.
'There are ways that you know not and paths that you have not tried.'"
"Oh! that fable--it is as old as----"
"Humanity," he said. "'To scorn delights and live laborious days.' You
will never do that--Peck will."
I left him, angry and uncomfortable.
I had rather looked forward to going to the West to a near cousin of my
father's, who, if report were true, had made a fortune as a lawyer and
an investor in a Western city. He and my father had been boys together,
but my cousin had gone West and when the war came, he had taken the
other side. My father, however, always retained his respect for him and
spoke of him with affection. He had been to my home during my early
college-life--a big, stolid, strong-faced man, silent and cold, but
watchful and clear-minded--and had appeared to take quite a fancy to me.
"When he gets through," he had said to my father, "send him out to me.
That is the place for brains and ambition, and I will see what is in him
for you."
Now that I had failed, I could not write to him; but as he had made a
memorandum of my graduation year, and as he had written my father
several times, I rather expected he would open the way for me. But no
letter came. So I was content to go to the capital of the State.
VI
THE METEOR
I am convinced now that as parents are the most unselfish creatures,
children are the veriest brutes on earth. I was too self-absorbed to
think of my kind father, who had sacrificed everything to give me
opportunities which I had thrown under the feet of Lilian Poole and who
now consoled and encouraged me without a word of censure. Though I was
deeply grieved at the loss of my parents, I did not know until years
afterward what an elemental and life-long calamity that loss was.
My father appeared as much pleased with my single success as if I had
brought him home the honors which I had been boasting I would show him.
He gave me only two or three bits of advice before I left home. "Be
careful with other people's money and keep out of debt," he said. "Also,
have no dealings with a rascal, no matter how tightly you think you can
tie him up." And his final counsel was, "Marry a lady and do not marry a
fool."
I wondered if he were thinking of Lilian Poole.
However, I had not the least doubt in my mind about winning success both
with her and with that even more jealous Mistress--The Law. In fact, I
quite meant to revolutionize things by the meteoric character of my
career.
I started out well. I took a good office fronting on the street in one
of the best office-buildings--an extravagance I could not afford. Peck
had a little dark hole on the other side of the hall. He made a half
proposal to share my office with me, but I could not stand that. I,
however, told him that he was welcome to use my office and books as much
as he pleased, and he soon made himself so much at home in my office
that I think he rather fell into the habit of thinking my clients his
own.
Before I knew many people I worked hard; read law and a great deal of
other literature. But this did not last long, for I was social and made
acquaintances easily. Moreover, I soon began to get cases; though they
were too small to satisfy me--quite below my abilities, I thought. So,
unless they promised me a chance of speaking before a jury, I turned
them over to Peck, who would bone at them and work like a horse, though
I often had to hunt up the law for him, a labor I never knew him to
acknowledge.
At first I used to correspond with both John Marvel and Wolffert; but
gradually I left their letters unanswered. John, who had gone West, was
too full of his country parish to interest me, and Wolffert's
abstractions were too altruistic for me.
Meantime, I was getting on swimmingly. I was taken into the best social
set in the city, and was soon quite a favorite among them. I was made a
member of all the germans as well as of the best club in town; was
welcomed in the poker-game of "the best fellows" in town, and was
invited out so much that I really had no time to do much else than enjoy
my social success. But the chief of the many infallible proofs I had was
my restoration to Lilian Poole's favor. Since I was become a sort of
toast with those whose opinion she valued highly, she was more cordial
to me than ever, and I was ready enough to let by-gones be by-gones and
dangle around the handsomest girl in the State, daughter of a man who
was president of a big bank and director of a half-dozen corporations. I
was with her a great deal. In fact, before my second winter was out, my
name was coupled with hers by all of our set and many not in our set.
And about three evenings every week I was to be found basking in her
somewhat steady smile, either at some dance or other social
entertainment; strolling with her in the dusk on our way home from the
fashionable promenade of ---- Street--which, for some reason, she always
liked, though I would often have preferred some quieter walk--or
lounging on her plush-covered sofa in her back drawing-room. I should
have liked it better had Peck taken the hint that most of my other
friends had taken and kept away from her house on those evenings which
by a tacit consent of nearly every one were left for my visits. But
Peck, who now professed a great friendship for me, must take to coming
on precisely the evenings I had selected for my calls. He never wore a
collar that fitted him, and his boots were never blacked. Miss Lilian
used to laugh at him and call him "the burr"--indeed, so much that I
more than once told her, that while I was not an admirer of Peck
myself, I thought the fact that he was really in love with her ought to
secure him immunity from her sarcasm. We had quite a stiff quarrel over
the matter, and I told her what our old law professor had said of Peck.
I had rather thought that, possibly, Mr. Poole, knowing of the growing
relation of intimacy between myself and his daughter, would throw a
little of his law business my way; but he never did. He did, in fact,
once consult me at his own house about some extensive interests that he
owned and represented together in a railway in a Western city; but
though I took the trouble to hunt up the matter and send him a brief on
the point carefully prepared, he did not employ me, and evidently
considered that I had acted only as a friend. It was in this
investigation that I first heard of the name Argand and also of the P.
D. and B. D. R.R. Co. I heard long afterward that he said I had too many
interests to suit him; that he wanted a lawyer to give him all his
intellect, and not squander it on politics, literature, sport, and he
did not know what besides. This was a dig at my rising aspirations in
each of these fields. For I used to write now regularly for the
newspapers, and had one or two articles accepted by a leading monthly
magazine--a success on which even Peck congratulated me, though he said
that, as for him, he preferred the law to any other entertainment. My
newspaper work attracted sufficient attention to inspire me with the
idea of running for Congress, and I began to set my traps and lay my
triggers for that.
Success appeared to wait for me, and my beginning was "meteoric."
Meteoric beginnings are fatal. The meteor soon fades into outer
darkness--the outer darkness of the infinite abyss. I took it for
success and presumed accordingly, and finally I came down. I played my
game too carelessly. I began to speculate--just a little at first; but
more largely after awhile. There I appeared to find my proper field; for
I made money almost immediately, and I spent it freely, and, after I had
made a few thousands, I was regarded with respect by my little circle.
I began to make money so much more easily by this means than I had ever
done by the law that I no longer thought it worth while to stay in my
office, as I had done at first, but spent my time, in a flock of other
lambs, in front of a blackboard in a broker's office, figuring on
chances which had already been decided in brokers' offices five hundred
miles away. Thus, though I worked up well the cases I had, and was
fairly successful with them, I found my clients in time drifting away to
other men not half as clever as I was, who had no other aim than to be
lawyers. Peck got some of my clients. Indeed, one of my clients in
warning me against speculating, which, he said, ruined more young men
than faro and drink together, told me he had learned of my habit through
Peck. Peck was always in his office or mine. I had made some reputation,
however, as a speaker, and as I had taken an active part in politics and
had many friends, I stood a good chance for the commonwealth's
attorneyship; but I had determined to fly higher: I wanted to go to
Congress.
I kept a pair of horses now, since I was so successful, and used to hunt
in the season with other gay pleasure-lovers, or spend my afternoons
riding with Miss Poole, who used to look well on horseback. We often
passed Peck plodding along alone, stolid and solemn, "taking his
constitutional," he said. I remember once as we passed him I recalled
what the old professor had said of him, and I added that I would not be
as dull as Peck for a fortune. "Do you know," said Miss Poole, suddenly,
"I do not think him so dull; he has improved." Peck sat me out a few
nights after this, and next day I nearly insulted him; but he was too
dull to see it.
I knew my young lady was ambitious; so I determined to please her, and,
chucking up the fight for the attorneyship, I told her I was going to
Congress, and began to work for it. I was promised the support of so
many politicians that I felt absolutely sure of the nomination.
Peck told me flatly that I did not stand the ghost of a show; and began
to figure. Peck was always figuring. He advised me to stand for the
attorneyship, and said I might get it if I really tried. I knew better,
however, and I knew Peck, too, so I started in. To make a fight I wanted
money, and it happened that a little trip I had taken in the summer,
when I was making a sort of a splurge, together with an unlooked-for and
wholly inexplicable adverse turn in the market had taken all my cash.
So, to make it up, I went into the biggest deal I ever tried. What was
the use of fooling about a few score dollars a point when I could easily
make it a thousand? I would no longer play at the shilling-table. I had
a "dead-open-and-shut thing" of it. I had gotten inside information of a
huge railroad deal quietly planned, and was let in as a great favor by
influential friends, who were close friends of men who were manipulating
the market, and especially the P. D. and B. D., a North-western road
which had been reorganized some years before. Mr. Poole had some
interest in it and this made me feel quite safe as to the deal. I knew
they were staking their fortunes on it. I was so sure about it that I
even advised Peck, for whom I had some gratitude on account of his
advice about the attorneyship, to let me put him in for a little. But he
declined. He said he had other use for his money and had made it a rule
not to speculate. I told him he was a fool, and I borrowed all I could
and went in.
It was the most perfectly managed affair I ever saw. We--our
friends--carried the stock up to a point that was undreamed of, and
money was too valuable to pay debts with, even had my creditors wanted
it, which they did not, now that I had recouped and was again on the
crest of the wave. I was rich and was doubling up in a pyramid, when one
of those things happened that does not occur once in ten million times
and cannot be guarded against! We were just prepared to dump the whole
business, when our chief backer, as he was on his way in his carriage to
close the deal, was struck by lightning! I was struck by the same bolt.
In twenty minutes I was in debt twenty thousand dollars. Telegrams and
notices for margin began to pour in on me again within the hour. None of
them bothered me so much, however, as a bank notice that I had
overchecked an account in which I had a sum of a few hundred dollars
belonging to a client of mine--an old widowed lady, Mrs. Upshur, who had
brought it to me to invest for her, and who trusted me. She had been
robbed by her last agent and this was really all that was left her. I
remembered how she had insisted on my keeping it for her against the
final attack of the wolf, she had said. "But suppose I should spend it,"
I had said jesting. "I'm not afraid of your spending it, but of
myself--I want so many things. If I couldn't trust you, I'd give up."
And now it was gone. It came to me that if I should die at that moment
she would think I had robbed her, and would have a right to think so. I
swear that at the thought I staggered, and since then I have always
known how a thief must sometimes feel. It decided me, however. I made up
my mind that second that I would never again buy another share of stock
on a margin as long as I lived, and I wrote telegrams ordering every
broker I had to sell me out and send me my accounts, and I mortgaged my
old home for all I could get. I figured that I wanted just one hundred
dollars more than I had. I walked across the hall into Peck's little
dark office. He was poring over a brief. I said, "Peck, I am broke."
"What? I am sorry to hear it--but I am not surprised." He was perfectly
cool, but did look sorry.
"Peck," I went on, "I saw you pricing a watch the other day. Here is one
I gave three hundred dollars for." I showed him a fine chronometer
repeater I had bought in my flush time.
"I can't give over a hundred dollars for a watch," he said.
"How much will you give me for this?"
"You mean with the chain?"
"Yes"--I had not meant with the chain, but I thought of old Mrs. Upshur.
"I can't give over a hundred."
"Take it," and I handed it to him and he gave me a hundred-dollar bill,
which I took with the interest and handed, myself, to my old lady, whom
I advised to let Peck invest for her on a mortgage. This he did, and I
heard afterward netted her six per cent--for a time.
That evening I went to see Lilian Poole. I had made up my mind quickly
what to do. That stroke of lightning had showed me everything just as it
was, in its ghastliest detail. If she accepted me, I would begin to work
in earnest, and if she would wait, as soon as I could pay my debts, I
would be ready; if not, then--! However, I walked right in and made a
clean breast of it, and I told her up and down that if she would marry
me I would win. I shall never forget the picture as she stood by the
heavy marble mantel in her father's rich drawing-room, tall and
uncompromising and very handsome. She might have been marble herself,
like the mantel, she was so cold, and I, suddenly aroused by the shock,
was on fire with resolve and fierce hunger for sympathy. She did not
hesitate a moment; and I walked out. She had given me a deep wound. I
saw the sun rise in the streets.
Within two weeks I had made all my arrangements; had closed up my
affairs; given up everything in the world I had; executed my notes to my
creditors and told them they were not worth a cent unless I lived, in
which case they would be worth principal and interest; sold my law books
to Peck for a price which made his eyes glisten, had given him my office
for the unexpired term, and was gone to the West.
The night before I left I called to see the young lady again--a piece of
weakness. But I hated to give up.
She looked unusually handsome.