I
With all his outward candor the Governor had, Archie found, reserves
that were quite unaccountable. He let fall allusions to his past in the
most natural fashion, with an incidental air that added to their
plausibility, without ever tearing aside the veil that concealed his
origin or the manner of his fall, if, indeed, a man who so jubilantly
boasted of his crimes and seemed to find an infinite satisfaction and
delight in his turpitude, could be said to have fallen. Having mentioned
Brattleboro as the point at which they were to foregather with Red
Leary, the Governor did not refer to the matter again, but chose routes
and made detours without explanation.
As a matter of fact they swung round Brattleboro and saw only the faint
blue of its smoke from the western side. It was on the second afternoon
out of Cornford that the Governor suddenly bade Archie, whom he
encouraged to drive much of the time, pause at a gate.
"We linger here, son. May I suggest that you take your cue from me? Bill
Walker is an honest dairyman to all intents and purposes, but really an
old crook who got tired of dodging sheriffs and bloodhounds and bought
this farm. A sober, industrious family man, you will find him, with a
wife and one daughter. This is one of the best stations of the
underground railroad; safe as a mother's arms, and you will never
believe you're not the favored guest of a week-end party. Walker's an
old chum of Leary's. They used to cut up in the most reprehensible
fashion out West in old times. You've probably wondered what becomes of
old crooks. Walker is of course an unusual specimen, for he knew when
the quitting was good, and having salted away a nice little fortune
accumulated in express hold-ups, he dwells here in peace and passes the
hat at the meeting house every Sunday. You may be dead sure that only
the aristocracy of our profession have the entrée at Walker's. His herd
on the hillside yonder makes a pretty picture of tranquillity. The house
is an old timer, but he's made a comfortable place of it, and the wife
and daughter set a wonderful table. Here's the old boy now."
A gray-bearded man with a pronounced stoop, clad in faded blue overalls,
was waiting for them at the barn.
"Just run the machine right in," he called.
The car disposed of, the Governor introduced Archie as one of his
dearest friends, and the hand Archie clasped was undeniably roughened by
toil. Walker mumbled a "glad-to-see-ye," and lazily looked him over.
"Always glad to meet any friend of Mr. Saulsbury's," he drawled with a
mournful twang. "We've got plenty o' bread and milk for strangers.
Somebody's spread the idea we run a hotel here and we're pestered a good
deal with folks that want to stop for a meal. We take care o' 'em
mostly. The wife and little gal sort o' like havin' folks stop; takes
away the lonesomeness."
There was nothing in his speech or manner to suggest that he had ever
been a road agent. He assisted them in carrying their traps to the
house, talking farmer fashion of the weather, crops and the state of the
roads. The house was connected with the barn in the usual New England
style. In the kitchen a girl sang cheerily and hearing her the Governor
paused and struck an attitude.
"O divinity! O Deity of the Green Hills! O Lovely Daughter of the Stars!
O Iphigenia!"
The girl appeared at a window, rested her bare arms on the sill and
smilingly saluted them with a cheery "Hello there!"
"Look upon that picture!" exclaimed the Governor, seizing Archie's arm.
"In old times upon Olympus she was cup-bearer to the gods, but here she
is Sally Walker, and never so charming as when she sits enthroned upon
the milking stool. Miss Walker, my old friend, Mr. Comly, or Achilles,
as you will!"
A very pretty picture Miss Walker made in the kitchen window, a vivid
portrait that immediately enhanced Archie's pleasurable sensations in
finding a haven that promised rest and security. Her black hair was
swept back smoothly from her forehead and there was the glow of perfect
health in her rounded cheeks. Archie noted her dimples and the white
even teeth that made something noteworthy and memorable of her smile.
"Well, Mr. Saulsbury, I've read all those books you sent me, and the
candy was the finest I ever tasted."
"She remembers! Amid all her domestic cares, she remembers! My dear lad,
the girl is one in a million!"
"You'd think Mr. Saulsbury was crazy about me!" she laughed. "But he
makes the same speeches to every girl he sees, doesn't he, Mr. Comly?"
"Indeed not," protested Archie, rallying bravely to the Governor's
support. "He's been raving about you for days and my only surprise is
that he so completely failed to give me the faintest idea--idea--"
"Of your charm, your ineffable beauty!" the Governor supplied. "You see,
Sally, my friend is shy with the shyness of youth and inexperience and
he is unable to utter the thoughts that do in him rise! I can see that
he is your captive, your meekest slave. By the way, will there be
cottage cheese prepared by your own adorable hand for supper? Are golden
waffles likely to confront us on the breakfast table tomorrow at the
hideous hour of five-thirty? Will there be maple syrup from yonder
hillside grove?"
"You have said it!" Sally answered. "But you'd better chase yourselves
into the house now or pop'll be peeved at having to wait for you."
On the veranda a tall elderly man rose from a hammock in which he had
been reading a newspaper and stretched himself. His tanned face was
deeply lined but he gave the impression of health and vigor.
"Leary," whispered the Governor in an aside and immediately introduced
him.
"The road has been smooth and the sky is high," said the Governor in
response to a quick anxious questioning of Leary's small restless eyes.
"Did you find peace in the churches by the way?" asked Leary.
"In one of the temples we found peace and plenty," answered the Governor
as though reciting from a ritual.
Leary nodded and gave a hitch to his trousers.
"You found the waters of Champlain tranquil, and no hawks followed the
landward passage?"
"The robin and the bluebird sang over all the road," he answered; then
with a glance at Archie: "You gave no warning of the second pilgrim."
"The brother is young and innocent, but I find him an apt pupil," the
Governor explained.
"The brother will learn first the wisdom of silence," remarked Leary,
and then as though by an afterthought he shook Archie warmly by the
hand.
They went into the house where Mrs. Walker, a stout middle-aged woman,
greeted them effusively.
"We've got to put you both in one room, if you don't mind," she
explained, "but there's two beds in it. I guess you can make out."
"Make out!" cried the Governor with a deprecatory wave of his hand. "We
should be proud to be permitted to sleep on the porch! You do us much
honor, my dear Mrs. Walker."
"Oh, you always cheer us up, Mr. Saulsbury. And Mr. Comly is just as
welcome."
The second floor room to which Walker led them was plainly but neatly
furnished and the windows looked out upon rolling pastures. The Governor
abandoned his high-flown talk and asked blunt questions as to recent
visitors, apparently referring to criminals who had lodged at the farm.
They talked quite openly while Archie unpacked his bag. The restless
activity of the folk of the underworld, their methods of communication
and points of rendezvous seemed part of a vast system and he was ashamed
of his enormous interest in all he saw and heard. The Governor's cool
fashion of talking of the world of crime and its denizens almost
legitimatized it, made it appear a recognized part of the accepted
scheme of things. Walker aroused the Governor's deepest interest by
telling of the visit of Pete Barney, a diamond thief, who had lately
made a big haul in Chicago, and had been passed along from one point of
refuge to another. The Governor asked particularly as to the man's
experiences and treatment on the road, and whether he had complained of
the hospitality extended by any of the agents of the underground.
"You needn't worry about him," said Walker, with a shrug. "He asks for
what he wants."
"Sorry if he made himself a nuisance. I'll give warning to chain the
gates toward the North. Is he carrying the sparks with him?"
"Lets 'em shine like a fool. I told 'im to clear out with 'em."
"You did right. The brothers in the West must be more careful about
handing out tickets. Now trot Red up here and we'll transact a little
business."
Leary appeared a moment later and Archie was about to leave the room,
but the Governor insisted stoutly that he remain.
"I'm anxious for you and Red to know that I trust both of you fully."
"What's the young brother,--a con?" asked Leary with a glance at Archie.
To be referred to as a confidence man by a gentleman of Leary's
professional eminence gave Archie a thrill. The Governor answered by
drawing up his sleeves and going through the motions of washing his
hands.
"Does the hawk follow fast?" Leary asked, as he proceeded to fill his
pipe.
"The shadow hasn't fallen, but we watch the sky," returned the Governor.
The brushing of the hands together Archie interpreted as a code sign
signifying murder and the subsequent interchange of words he took to be
inquiry and answer as to the danger of apprehension. He felt that
Leary's attitude toward him became friendlier from that moment. There
was something ghastly in the thought that as the slayer of a human being
he attained a certain dignity in the eyes of men like Leary. But he
became interested in the transaction that was now taking place between
the thief and the Governor. The Governor extracted the sixty
one-thousand-dollar bills from his bag, and laid them out on the bed. He
rapidly explained just how Leary's hidden booty had been recovered, and
the manner in which the smaller denominations had been converted into
bills that could be passed without arousing suspicion.
"Too big for one bite, but old Dan Sheedy will change 'em all for you in
Bean Center. You know his place? You see him alone and ask him to chop
some feed for your cattle. He makes a good front and stands well at his
bank."
Leary picked up ten of the bills and held them out to the Governor.
"If that ain't right we'll make it right," he said.
"Not a cent, Red! I haven't got to a point yet where I charge a fee for
my services. But our young brother here is entitled to anything he
wants."
Archie grasped with difficulty the idea that he was invited to share in
the loot. His insistence that he couldn't think for a moment of
accepting any of the money puzzled Leary.
"It's all right about you, Governor, but the kid had better shake the
tree. If his hands are wet he's likely to need a towel."
"Don't be an ass, Comly," said the Governor. "Leary's ahead of the game
ten thousand good plunks and what he offers is a ridiculously modest
honorarium. Recovering such property and getting it into shape for the
market is worth something handsome."
"Really," began Archie, and then as the "really" seemed an absurdly
banal beginning for a rejection of an offer of stolen money, he said
with a curl of the lip and a swagger, "Oh, hell! I'd feel pretty rotten
to take money from one of the good pals. And besides, I didn't do
anything anyhow."
The Governor passed his hand over his face to conceal a smile, but Leary
seemed sincerely grieved by Archie's conduct and remarked dolefully that
there must be something wrong with the money. The Governor hastily
vouched for its impeccable quality and excused Archie as a person hardly
second to himself for eccentricity.
[Illustration: "It's all right about you, Governor, but the kid better
shake the tree"]
"No hard feeling; most certainly not! My young friend is only proud to
serve a man of your standing in the profession. It is possible that
later on you may be able to render us a service. You never can tell, you
know, Red."
Leary philosophically stowed the bills in his clothing.
"You're done, are you?" asked the Governor; "out of the game?"
"I sure have quit the road," Leary answered. "The old girl has got a few
thousands tucked away and I'm goin' to pick her up and buy a motion
picture joint or a candy and soda shop somewhere in the big lakes--one
of those places that freeze up all winter, so I can have a chance to
rest. The old girl has a place in mind. The climate will be good for my
asthma. She knows how to run a fizz shop and I'll be the scenery and
just set round."
"On the whole it doesn't sound exciting," the Governor commented,
inspecting a clean shirt. "Did your admirable wife get rid of those
pearls she pinched last winter? They were a handsome string, as I
remember, too handsome to market readily. Mrs. Leary has a passion for
precious baubles, Archie," the Governor explained. "A brilliant career
in picking up such trifles; a star performer, Red, if you don't mind my
bragging of your wife."
Leary seemed not at all disturbed by this revelation of his wife's
larcenous affection for pearls. That a train robber's wife should be a
thief seemed perfectly natural; indeed it seemed quite fitting that
thieves should mate with thieves. Archie further gathered that Mrs.
Leary operated in Chicago, under the guise of a confectionery shop, one
of the stations of the underground railroad, and assisted the
brotherhood in disposing of their ill-gotten wares. A recent reform wave
in Chicago had caused a shake-up in the police department, most
disturbing to the preying powers.
"They're clean off me, I reckon," said Leary a little pathetically, the
reference being presumably to the pestiferous police. "That was a good
idea of yours for me to go up into Canada and work at a real job for a
while. Must a worked hard enough to change my finger prints. Some bloke
died in Kansas awhile back and got all the credit for being the old
original Red Leary."
This error of the press in recording Leary's death tickled the Governor
mightily, and Leary laughed until he was obliged to wipe the tears from
his eyes.
"I'm going to pull my freight after supper," he said. "Walker's goin' to
take me into town and I'll slip out to Detroit where the old girl's
waitin' for me."
The Governor mused upon this a moment, drew a small note-book from his
pocket and verified his recollection of the address of one of the
outposts of the underground which Leary mentioned.
"Avoid icy pavements!" he admonished. "There's danger in all those
border towns."
Walker called them to supper and they went down to a meal that met all
the expectations aroused by the Governor's boast of the Walker cuisine.
Not only were the fried chicken and hot biscuits excellent, but Archie
found Miss Walker's society highly agreeable and stimulating. She wore a
snowy white apron over a blue gingham dress, and rose from time to time
to replenish the platters. The Governor chaffed her familiarly, and
Archie edged into the talk with an ease that surprised him. His
speculative faculties, all but benumbed by the violent exercise to which
they had been subjected since he joined the army of the hunted, found
new employment in an attempt to determine just how much this cheery,
handsome girl knew of the history of the company that met at her
father's table. She was the daughter of a retired crook, and it had
never occurred to him that crooks had daughters, or if they were so
blessed he had assumed that they were defectives, turned over for
rearing to disagreeable public institutions.
The Governor had said that they were to spend a day or two at Walker's
but Archie was now hoping that he would prolong the visit. When next he
saw Isabel he would relate, quite calmly and incidentally, his meteoric
nights through the underworld, and Sally, the incomparable dairy maid,
should dance merrily in his narrative. In a pleasant drawing-room
somewhere or other he would meet Isabel and rehabilitate himself in her
eyes by the very modesty with which he would relate his amazing tale. It
pleased him to reflect that if she could see him at the Walker table
with Red Leary and the Governor, that most accomplished of villains,
eating hot biscuits which had been specially forbidden by his physician,
she would undoubtedly decide that he had made a pretty literal
interpretation of her injunction to throw a challenge in the teeth of
fate.
Walker ate greedily, shoveling his food into his mouth with his knife;
and Archie had never before sat at meat with a man who used this means
of urging food into his vitals. The Governor magnanimously ignored his
friend's social errors, praising the chicken and delivering so
beautiful an oration on the home-made pickled peaches that Sally must
needs dart into the pantry and bring back a fresh jar which she placed
with a spoon by the Governor's plate.
At the end of the meal Walker left for town to put Leary on a train for
Boston. The veteran train robber shook hands all round and waved a last
farewell from the gate. Archie was sorry to lose him, for Leary was an
appealing old fellow, and he had hoped for a chance to coax from him
some reminiscences of his experiences.
Leary vanished into the starlit dusk as placidly as though he hadn't
tucked away in his clothing sixty thousand dollars to which he had no
lawful right or title. There was something ludicrous in the whole
proceeding. While Archie had an income of fifty thousand dollars a year
from investments, he had always experienced a pleasurable thrill at
receiving the statement of his dividends from his personal clerk in the
broker's office, where he drew an additional ten thousand as a silent
partner. Leary's method of dipping into the world's capital seemed quite
as honorable as his own. Neither really did any work for the money. This
he reflected was both morally and economically unsound, and yet Archie
found himself envying Leary the callousness that made it possible for
him to pocket sixty thousand stolen dollars without the quiver of an
eyelash.