COALS OF FIRE
Willa paused in the vestibule of the shabby apartment-house and looked
carefully up and down the street before venturing forth. The early dusk
had fallen and the lamps were not yet alight, but the passers-by were
still clearly discernible in the gloom. The girl studied their movements
for a time, and noting that none loitered or retraced their steps, she
descended and made her way around the corner to where her car was waiting.
Dan Morrissey touched his cap with alacrity.
"One guy in a taxicab down the avenue there, Miss, and another across the
street. Where to, now?"
"The little house on the Parkway, where you took me the first time," she
directed on a sudden impulse. "When you drop me there, go straight back
to the garage and wait until you get a call from me."
"They're both stringing out behind us," he announced, when they had
traversed a mile or more in silence.
"That is what I wanted them to do," Willa responded. "Don't look back
again, Dan; just go along as if you didn't know anyone was trailing. I'm
glad you lighted up while you were waiting for me."
The long, low car seemed to stretch out over the road like a lean horse
in a speed that ate up the miles and more than one motor-cycle policeman
gazed appraisingly after them, but they drove steadily ahead and drew up
at length before the sagging gate.
Darkness had come and the little house looked bleak and deserted. As
Willa sprang out of the car, Dan hesitated, and then volunteered:
"Looks as if there wasn't anybody there. Sure you don't want me to wait,
Miss? The first taxi' is coming now."
"No. Don't worry about me, Dan." She smiled understandingly. "I don't
think I'll need you any more to-night, but wait at the garage until ten.
Now go quickly, please."
Without a backward glance, she mounted the path and inserted a key in the
door. All was silence and gloom within, but she fumbled her way to a
mantel in the small front room and found a box of matches. Lighting them
one after the other as they burned out, she made her way from room to
room on each of the two floors. They were bare of furniture, but the
debris of a hasty exodus was visible everywhere, and half the windows
were unfastened.
Willa wasted no time in looking about, but made her way quickly to the
heat register let into the floor of each room, and opened them wide.
Then she fled down the creaking stairs to the cellar, heedless of the
mice which scurried in droves before her, and opened the door of the
cold, empty furnace.
The chill dampness of the low, cramped vault no less than the animate
darkness made her shiver, but she resolutely crawled into the furnace and
pulled the door close behind her. She was scarcely settled in her place
when footsteps sounded on the porch above and an indistinguishable murmur
of male voices.
Presently the footsteps retreated, there came the rasp of an opening
window and then the tramp of feet within the house. There were two
distinct treads; one light and springy as a cat's, the other dragging
heavily and in apparent reluctance from room to room in the wake of the
first.
The voices reached her, now raised as the intruders called to each other,
now lowered in an earnest monotone, but to Willa's disappointment the
registers did not carry the sound to her as she had hoped and the tones
alone reached her ear in a confused rumble.
It was evident that a complete search of the house was in progress, but
at last the two men came to a halt beside the register in the room
directly above that part of the cellar where the girl crouched and the
words floated down to her, sharp and distinct in the silence.
"They've flown the coop, all right, whoever they were." It was Vernon's
voice. "I don't see why Willa came up here now, though, if she knew they
had gone. Where do you suppose she is?"
"She may not have known." Starr Wiley replied thoughtfully. "Finding
the place deserted and hearing us on the porch in all probability, she
may have slipped out the back door and taken the subway down-town.
Remember that burnt match I found in the hall was still warm. I wonder
if it's worth while to have a look in the cellar?"
"In the darkness, and filth, and rats, too, for all you know? No girl
would take a chance." Vernon's tone was lofty with contempt, but it
changed as he burst out: "Who are these people, anyway, and why are they
hiding and what are you so keen after them for? I hate fooling around
blindfold like this, and how do I know it's fair to Willa? What is her
connection with them?"
"You don't have to know, my dear fellow!" Wiley spoke with the bland
mockery the listening girl remembered. "It's up to you to do what you
are told and ask no questions. Why this sudden chivalry?"
"Well, you know, Willa's one of the family now. Hang it, I like her,
anyway, and I'm not going a step farther in this till I find out what the
devil you are up to!"
"A perfectly square business deal, if you must know. Your conscience is
waking up rather late in the day, don't you think?" The mockery changed
to a swift menace. "As to how far you will go, that will be as I direct,
or you, my dear Vernon, will find yourself in a position where the going
is distinctly not good."
"Gad! I'd rather face it than stand any more of your domineering!"
Vernon's faltering tones belied his words and the other laughed shortly.
"All right. The money is earning no interest for me. I'll put through
the check to-morrow."
"Oh, I say--!"
"Then come along, you young puppy, and no more whining, or I'll----"
The steps moved away and the voices again sank to an indistinguishable
murmur, but Willa had learned enough. Waiting only long enough to make
sure of their departure, she crept from her hiding-place, and, heedless
of the soot which clung to her boots and skirt, she acted upon Wiley's
inadvertent suggestion.
From the subway station she took a taxicab and reached home just in time
to dress for dinner. A not wholly disinterested plan was forming itself
in her mind and gained added strength of purpose with each glance at
Vernon's pale, troubled face across the table.
Angie, who had been cold and distant all day, departed for the theater;
the elder Halsteads went to a bridge party, but Vernon wandered aimlessly
into the library where Willa found him staring into the fire in profound
dejection.
"What is the matter, Vernon?" she asked abruptly. "You haven't been at
all like yourself these last few days. We're pals, you know; tell me."
He glanced up, hastily shifted his eyes, and then blurted out desperately.
"If you'd ever been an absolute rotter and then got on to the fact when
it was too late, I guess you wouldn't be very much like yourself, either.
I'm a confounded cad, Willa, and worse!" He dropped his head on his
hands with a groan. "I ought to be shot!"
"Well, that's a healthy sign," Willa observed cheerfully. "Lots of
people are rotters and never find it out. It's like a disease; when you
know what is the matter, you can usually find a cure."
"Sometimes it's incurable." His voice was muffled. "I'm in a hole and
there's no way out."
"Then climb up again." Willa paused and added deliberately: "Don't try
to burrow a passage-way through slime, Vernon. You'll only get in deeper
and deeper."
That brought his head up with a suspicious start.
"I say, what do you know about it?"
"Suppose you tell me?"
"You, Willa? You're the last person in the world--!" He broke off
hastily.
"Why? If you are in a scrape perhaps I could help you out of it."
"It's worse than a scrape! It's something beyond the pale; it's the sort
of thing they shoot a man for, down where you came from! Now you know!"
"Yes," responded Willa slowly, "I do know. Now tell me what that check
is, which Starr Wiley is holding over your head."
Vernon rose with blanching face.
"You heard! Good Lord, where were you?"
"In the furnace!" Willa dimpled irrepressibly. "Right in it, with the
ashes and all! And you stood talking straight down into the open
register, like a speaking tube."
Vernon cringed away from her in bitter shame.
"Then if you heard the whole thing, you know what a wretched cad I've
been, spying on you and trying to get information from you for that
bounder."
"I knew about that before, Vernon. When I met you leaving the club
yesterday and you tried to question me about Tia Juana, you made a
dreadful mess of it. I saw right through you and I realized for whom you
must be acting, but not why, of course." She drew a deep breath and
added in a matter-of-fact tone: "What's the matter with that check Wiley
has? Is it a forgery?"
He nodded dumbly.
"Whose name did you sign? I might as well know the rest, don't you
think?"
"Mason North's." His voice was a mere strained whisper. "I must have
been crazy to do such a thing!"
"What sum did you make it out for?"
"Four thousand dollars." He gazed at her as if hypnotized, replying
mechanically under the sheer dominance of her will.
"Was it for speculation or in payment of some sort of debt?"
"A debt of honor!" He laughed in measureless self-contempt. "Poker."
"I see. But, Vernon, don't make me drag it out of you like this. Tell
me the whole story."
"It was before Starr went to Mexico." Vernon hesitated and then the
words came with a rush from his overburdened breast. "He was playing up
strong to Angie, and he saw I didn't like it. Father is hipped about him
and so is old North; they think he's the coming man in the oil game, and
he may be for all I know, but I'd heard other things about him and I
wasn't keen on having him for a brother-in-law. He began to jolly me
along; made up parties and wanted me to pal around with him. He's older
and he goes with the swiftest bunch in town, and, like a regular saphead,
I was flattered. He put me up at his club, and I got into some pretty
high play, away over my head, but I wouldn't have him or his friends
think I was a piker, so I stuck.
"He won usually, and I almost got writer's cramp making out I. O. U.'s
for him. Then his manner changed a bit and he began kidding me. He was
good-natured with it at first, but after a while he grew nasty, and one
night he taunted me before the whole crowd about my four-flushing.
"I'd been drinking and it made me wild. I don't know what put the idea
in my head, but I brooded over it and I couldn't see any other way out.
Father had said when he paid my debts before that it was the last time,
and he meant it. I--I took a check from his desk--he and Mason North
have accounts in the same bank--and I made it out, copying the signature
from an old letter."
His voice was getting lower and lower, and finally it halted, but Willa
prompted him firmly.
"What happened after you gave it to Starr Wiley?"
"Nothing. I realized what I had done when it was too late, of course,
and I lived in just plain hell for the next four weeks, waiting for the
blow to fall, but it didn't. At last I couldn't stand the strain any
longer; I went to Starr and asked him if he'd put it through, and he said
he hadn't. He knew when he accepted it from me that it was forged. I
had given him a song-and-dance about it being some money coming to me
from your grandfather's estate, but it hadn't fooled him for a minute.
"I groveled at his feet and told him I'd work my fingers to the bone to
pay it back, but he said I could do that in his way, at his own time.
He's held me under his thumb ever since, and when he got in town a few
days ago he sent for me and forced me to try to get a line on this Tia
Juana woman through you. I hated it, Willa, but, God! what could I do?"
"What you are going to do now." Willa rose with decision. "You're going
to Mason North at once, and make a clean breast of the whole thing."
"I couldn't! I thought of that, but you don't know the old boy--"
"I know he's square, and I guess I can handle him, if you can't. I'm
going with you and I'll reimburse him for the four thousand, to let the
check go through. Then you can tell Wiley to go--to go ahead and show
you up."
"Willa!" Something very like a sob welled up in his throat. "You would
do that for me, after--after----"
"You didn't do anything very dreadful to me, Vernon."
"But I promised to spy on you."
"That's all right. Wiley is in this affair simply on a business deal as
he told you to-day, although I doubt the squareness as far as he is
concerned. But I'm out for higher stakes--" She paused, clinching her
hands. "Never mind about that. I'm going to 'phone Mr. North, and see
if we can catch him at home."
"Look here." There was a ring of strength in Vernon's tones. "I
appreciate, no end, what you've offered to do, Willa, but it can't be!
I'm pretty low, I'll admit, but I'm not such a rotter as to take that
kind of help from a girl!"
"Why not?" Willa asked quickly. "You said yourself this afternoon that I
was one of the family, and, besides, you can pay me back, you know."
"I wonder if you really believe that I would!" he remarked wistfully.
"I know you _will_!" she retorted. "I'm putting up that money on a bet
with myself, and it's a sure thing. You'll make good, Vernon."
Mason North was comfortably ensconced in his own library, with a Life of
Disraeli and a malodorous pipe, when Willa burst in upon him.
"Mr. North, you told me to come to you if I was in any difficulty,
and--and I'm here!"
"Certainly, my dear!" He was plainly startled. "I shall be delighted to
be of any service that I can. What is it that you wish my advice on?"
"I don't want any advice! I want you to help me compound a felony."
"My dear Willa!" His rotund face paled. "Are you serious? You cannot
realize what you have said!"
"Oh, yes, I can!" she affirmed. "A friend of mine signed a check with a
name that wasn't given to him in baptism, and I want you to see that it
goes through all right, and nothing happens. I'll give you my own check
out of Dad's money to cover the amount, and that'll be a comfort to you;
you'll know where some of it is, at any rate."
"Forgery!" he groaned. "It is outrageous, Willa! Scandalous! A young
woman of your position consorting with a criminal! Oh, we have all been
too easy with you; we permitted you to defy us, and now you will disgrace
the name you bear! I knew that you had been associated with desperadoes
of the lowest type, but I thought that now--"
"Just a minute, Mr. North!" Her tone was ominous. "We'll leave my old
friends out of this, if you don't mind."
But Mr. North was far too agitated to take heed.
"This will kill your Cousin Irene--!"
"I expect it would," she interposed soberly. "But she will never know
it, Mr. North. What I tell you now must never go beyond this room."
Forthwith, Willa related the whole story just as it had fallen from
Vernon's unhappy lips, and the attorney listened in consternation. She
eliminated, however, all mention of Wiley's knowledge that the check was
a forgery and his attempt to drive a bargain on the strength of it.
"Mr. Wiley meant to put the check through, of course, but he mislaid it,"
she substituted. "When he returned a few days ago, he came upon it among
his papers and told Vernon this afternoon that he was going to turn it in
at his bank. Vernon couldn't tell him the truth, because--well, you
wouldn't want a thing like that to be known outside the family, would
you? You are different, you know."
"Why didn't that young whelp come to me?" North snorted. "It's a wonder
his sly wits didn't grasp the fact that I wouldn't prosecute, because of
his father, but I might have started something I couldn't stop short of a
scandal if the check had been put through and I not known he was at the
bottom of it."
"He was afraid," Willa explained simply. "He isn't really bad, he's only
weak, and I guess you-all have hounded him so that he's just about ready
to stick up a train! He's out in the drawing-room now, and just as soon
as you let me write a check for you I'll bring him in."
"You'll write no check!" thundered North. "Just you send him in here to
me."
"But I must!" Willa pleaded. "Don't you see, it's the turning-point for
him. Let him realize he owes me that money and if he hasn't got a yellow
streak a mile wide, it'll be the making of him. If you just blow him up
and then forgive him, he'll be back where he was before it happened, and
liable to repeat it. I've known some pretty rough characters, as you
said a while ago; you learn a lot about human nature in a place like the
Blue Chip, Mr. North, and I've seen men going the way Vernon's headed
for, just because nobody believed there was anything in him to hold him
back. I'm trusting Vernon to pay it back and that's the very reason why
he will."
Mr. North cleared his throat.
"You're a--a damn'-fine young woman, Willa Murdaugh--and an uncommonly
wise one! We'll give the boy a chance. I hope he will realize some day
what he owes to you."
Willa hesitated and then her native honesty came uppermost.
"I haven't done this for him alone. I can't say that I wouldn't have, of
course, but I'm just freezing him out this hand." She smiled at the
other's bewilderment. "It's funny how everything reduces to poker terms,
isn't it? I'll send Vernon in."
"Wait! Let me understand this." North put out a detaining hand. "If
you're not doing this for that young scapegrace in there I'd like to know
in whose interest it is. Is there something else back of it?"
"If I tried to explain, Mr. North, you'd be in a worse muddle than ever,"
Willa told him candidly. "Dad always said you could take care of the pat
hands against you if you froze out the four-flushers.--Don't scold
Vernon, please. Remember, he's just balancing; a push either way will
determine his course for the future. I'll wait for him."
A long half-hour passed, but when she heard her name called in the
attorney's strangely subdued tones, Willa reëntered the library to find
the two standing with clasped hands. Both were flushed and seemed to
find difficulty in speech, but at length Vernon burst out:
"Willa, he's a trump! I never realized what an utter beast I was until
now and it's just because he hasn't said anything that he might well
have! It isn't only the money, though I'll work like a dog to pay that
back----"
"I know you will, my boy!" North found his voice, although it was
suspiciously husky. "Willa's sure of you, too."
"That's it, that's what counts! A fellow couldn't help but be straight
with two such friends believing in him!" Vernon choked, but he squared
his shoulders. "Will you shake hands with me, too, Willa? I'm not going
to talk, I'm not going to try to thank you, but I'm going to show you! I
know what friendship means now, and I mean to be worthy of it!"
Their hands clasped, and, looking into his eyes, Willa said with
conviction:
"I'll bank on you, Vernon. Go in and win. It'll be a stiff game, but
you can't lose for you're on the square now."