VI

When they reached the dining-room at ten the next morning they found

Seebrook and Walters just finishing breakfast. Miss Seebrook was having

coffee in her room, her father explained in response to Archie's polite

inquiries.

"We're hoping to get away this afternoon," he continued. "It will take

only a few minutes to transact our business when the man I'm waiting for

appears; but he's an uncertain quantity, and there's no telling when

he'll show up. But we're having a good time and I shan't mind another

day or two. If only you gentlemen would bear us company!"

"Ah, you are very kind!" said the Governor; "but we must resume our

ramble toward the Pacific. We are more or less dated up for little

entertainments on the way."

"I certainly envy you," said Walters ruefully. "Seebrook and I belong to

the large class of men who work for a living."

"Well, Comly and I have our own small jobs," the Governor protested.

"We're interested in some water power schemes through the West and hope

to make our expenses."

Seebrook and Walters lingered in the office as Archie and the Governor

paid their account. As they waited for their car to be sent round from

the garage a machine drew up and discharged a short, wiry, elderly man

in a motor coat that was much too large for him. He was accompanied by

an enormous amount of luggage and from the steps of the inn gave orders

in a high piping voice as to the manner of its disposal. As the various

pieces were hustled into the office he enumerated them in an audible

tone as though inviting the cooperation of all the loungers in making an

inventory of his effects. When this had been concluded Seebrook stepped

up and accosted the newcomer.

"Mr. Congdon, I am very glad to see you. I hope you are not worn out by

your drive."

"Worn out!" snapped the little man. "Do you imagine a run of a hundred

miles would fatigue a man of my constitution? I assure you that you are

greatly mistaken if you think I am feeling my age. Seventy! And I don't

feel a day over fifty, not a day, sir. But I shall rest for a few hours

as a precaution, a mere precautionary measure and be able to meet you

for our little business at two-thirty sharp."

"That will suit me perfectly," replied Seebrook.

Archie hung about impatiently waiting for the Governor to make his

farewells to the old lady and her granddaughters on whom he had expended

his social talents at the dance. Mr. Congdon was quarreling with the

clerk over the location of the room he had reserved; he wanted no room

with a western exposure as such rooms were always so baked by the

afternoon sun that they were as hot as tropical jungles at night. Having

frightened the clerk into readjusting the entire registration to

accommodate him, he demanded to know whether his son, Mr. Putney

Congdon, was stopping in the house.

"Mind you, I have no reason to believe he _is_ here, but I've been

asking for him everywhere along the road."

Assured that Mr. Putney Congdon was not in the inn and hadn't been there

within the recollection of the office staff, the senior Congdon exploded

violently upon Seebrook and Walters.

"Things have come to a pretty pass in this topsy turvy world when a man

can't find his own son! For three days I've been wiring his clubs and

all other places he could possibly be without result. And I have learned

that his wife has left Bailey Harbor and the house there is closed.

Closed! How dare they close that house when I was about to pay them a

visit? I spent thirty-five dollars last night in telephoning trying to

find out what's become of my son and his family and I got nothing for my

money--nothing!"

Seebrook and Walters expressed their sympathy in mild tones that roused

the old gentleman to greater fury.

"Can a whole family be obliterated and no trace left behind? Is it

possible that they've been murdered in their beds, servants and all, and

the police not yet aware of it?"

At the mention of murder Archie began stealthily feeling his way along

the cigar counter to a water cooler. He drank two glasses of ice water

while he listened to Eliphalet's grievances against all things visible

and invisible. There seemed to be no escaping from the Congdons and here

was the father of Putney boldly publishing to the whole state of New

Hampshire his fear that his son had been murdered.

"I called up everybody I could think of at Bailey Harbor, that dismal

rotten hole, and got nothing for my trouble. Nothing! A fool druggist,

who pretended to know everything about the place, had the effrontery to

tell me Putney hadn't been there for a week and declared that his family

had left! Why should they leave? I ask you to tell me why my

daughter-in-law should leave a comfortable house at the shore at this

season and tell nobody her destination?"

As no member of his growing audience of guests, clerks and bell-hops

could answer his questions, Mr. Congdon swept the whole company with a

fierce, disdainful glare and began mobilizing the entire day watch of

porters and bell-boys to convey his luggage to his room. One of the

young gentlemen was engaged at the moment in winking at the girl

attendant at the cigar counter when the agitated traveler thrust the

point of an enormous umbrella into his ribs with a vigor that elicited a

yell of surprise and pain.

The concentration of the hotel staff upon the transfer of Mr. Congdon's

luggage to his room left the Governor and Archie to manage the removal

of their own effects to the waiting car. Seebrook and Walters obligingly

assisted, laughing at Congdon's eccentricities.

"The arrival of that enchanting old crank increases my grief at

leaving," declared the Governor. "A delightful person. The son he

mentioned with so much feeling was in Boston looking for _him_ a month

ago."

Seebrook seized the Governor's kit bag containing the sixty thousand

dollars and carried it out to the car. The sight of it in Seebrook's

hand gave Archie sensations of nausea that were not relieved by the grin

he detected on the Governor's face. Within an hour or two at most the

substitution and robbery would be discovered and the country would ring

with the demand for their detention. But the Governor was carrying off

the departure with his usual gaiety. It was clear that he had made the

most favorable impression upon Seebrook and Walters; and in the cordial

handshaking and expressions of hope for future meetings Archie joined

with the best spirit he could muster. A cheery good-by caused him to

look up. Miss Seebrook with a red rose in her hand waved to him from her

window.

As he lifted his cap she dropped the rose with a graceful sweep of the

arm.

"Like the old stage coach days!" cried the Governor, applauding Archie's

catch.

He jumped into the machine and Archie scrambled after him. Archie's last

impression of the inn was the blur of a waving handkerchief in Miss

Seebrook's window.

"We are a success, my boy! You bore yourself marvelously well," said the

Governor testing the gears. "As I remember we pass town hall on right

and cross railroad at bridge; then follow telephone poles. We don't need

the guide book; it's all in my head. Ah, that little touch of the rose

was worth all our perils; nothing in my experience was ever prettier

than that! A lovely girl; you might do worse if you were not already

plighted. If she had come down to say good-by it would have been much

less significant. But the rose, the red, red rose! It wouldn't be a bad

idea to stick it in an envelope and mail it to the girl you were telling

me about--the one who sent you forth to shatter kingdoms. I guess that

would jostle her a little, particularly if you were to enclose a line

telling her that it had fallen to your hand from a curtained lattice."

"I don't know her address," mumbled Archie, fastening the flower in his

buttonhole.

He still martyrized himself in his thoughts of Isabel. Her contumelious

treatment of him at Portsmouth rankled; but he had satisfied himself

that it was all his fault. In some way the curse of the Congdons lay

upon her as upon him. If he had not burst upon her so idiotically she

would probably have listened to his story with some interest if not

with admiration. He meant to be very loyal to Isabel in spite of the

disheartening contretemps at Portsmouth and he drew the rose from his

coat and cast it from him.

"So soon!" exclaimed the Governor. "I rejoice in your fidelity. Hope

rides a high horse and I'm confident that in due season we shall find

our two adorable ones. But it will do you no harm to indulge in a little

affair now and then on the way; merely practice at the approach shot,

you know, to keep your hand in. You are undoubtedly thinking of your

beloved with a new tenderness because you found Miss Seebrook kind.

Such, lad, is the way of love, true love, the love that never dies."

Love as a subject for discussion seemed wholly incongruous in view of

the fact that they were running off with Seebrook's money and pursuers

might already be hot on their trail. He suggested the dangers of their

situation, thinking that here at last was something that would sober the

Governor. But the Governor merely laughed as he swung the car round a

sharp corner.

"Don't you believe that I hadn't a care for our safe flight! You must

learn to use your eyes, son. There was one of the brotherhood of the

road right there in the office when we left. I gave him instructions

last night. He's a sneak thief of considerable intelligence who gave me

the sign as I was pretending to leave for that call on my old friend. I

smuggled him upstairs to keep watch for me and he proved himself a

fellow of decided merit. He'll be hanging round Cornford today and as

the absurd police will be obliged to make an arrest to save their

reputations he will put himself in their way and encourage the idea by

subtle means that he _might_ have been the malefactor who robbed

Seebrook's trunk and left Leary's bills behind. They will be unable to

make a case against him but he'll probably get thirty days for

loitering. Then he'll walk out and draw a thousand dollars from one of

our little private banks further along the road for so chivalrously

throwing himself into the breach! There are wheels within wheels in our

game, and these fellows who make sacrifice hits are highly useful. They

also serve who only go to jail, as John Milton almost said. Even the

police recognize the sacrificial artists; and encourage them--on the

quiet, of course. It calms public complaint of their inefficiency. I can

find you men who will do a year's time to save the men higher up. This

satisfies the public as to the zeal of its paid protectors and makes it

possible for men of genius like you and me to walk in high places

unmolested. A damnable system, Archie, but we learned it from the greedy

trust magnates. You take the wheel; it just occurs to me that you said

you were a fair driver."

Archie had always imagined that men slip gradually from the straight and

narrow path, but he felt himself plunging down a steep toboggan with all

the delirious joy of a speed maniac.

Of one thing he was confident: if he ever returned to his old orderly,

lawful life, he would be much more tolerant of sinners than he had been

in the old tranquil times. He had always found it easy to be good but

now he was finding it quite as easy to be naughty, very naughty indeed.

His speculations as to just how long he could be imprisoned for his

crimes and misdemeanors to date resolved themselves into a question

with which he interrupted the Governor in a sonorous recitation of

Tennyson's Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington.

"If you shoot a man but don't kill him, and pile on top of that

receiving stolen goods and complicity in burglary, how much can they

hand you?"

The Governor answered with disconcerting promptness.

"Shooting with intent to commit murder--they always put it that way

whether you meant the shot as anything more than a little pleasantry or

really had murder in your heart--that would be a minimum of ten years in

many of the American states and a hard-hearted judge might soak you for

twenty. Then pile on that from one to five years for hiding stolen

property; and then a first-class burglary, might run you pretty high,

particularly if they landed you on all three charges and showed that you

were viciously hostile to the forces of society. But there's no cause

for worry. If you behaved yourself they'd knock off a generous allowance

and a fellow of your enlightenment and tact might be put to work in the

warden's office, or set to collecting potato bugs in the prison garden

patch. But it's highly unprofessional to bother about such trifles. We

haven't been nabbed yet, and if you and I are not smart enough to keep

out of trouble we ought to be locked up; that's my philosophy of the

situation. You must conquer that morbid strain in you that persists in

looking for trouble. I find it highly depressing."

He sang a bar of "Ben Bolt" to test his memory of the words and then

urged Archie to join him in the ballad, which he said was endeared to

him by the most sacred associations. Archie hadn't indulged in song

since he sang "Fair Harvard" at his last class reunion, but the Governor

praised his singing and carried him through "Robin Grey" and a few other

classics with growing animation.

"You respond to treatment splendidly! The sun and air are bringing a

fine color to your face until you don't even remotely suggest a doleful

jail bird. We'll soon be able to stroll along Fifth Avenue and pass for

members of the leisure class who live on the golf links. You need

hardening up and if you stick to me you'll lay up a store of health that

will last you forty years."

The Governor was amazingly muscular, and his shapely hands seemed

possessed of miraculous strength. When a tire went bad he changed it

with remarkable ease and dexterity, scorning Archie's offer of

assistance.

"No lost motion! The world spends half its time doing things twice that

could as well be done once. I am blessed with an orderly mind, Archie.

You will have noticed that virtue in me by the time the frost is on the

punkin and the fodder's in the shock, to quote the Hoosier Theocritus."

And so, to the merry accompaniment of old tunes and mellow rhymes, they

crossed the Connecticut.