"Don't be a flat tyre,
Don't be a dumb-bell;
Run from the dumb ducks,
Run from the plumbers.
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Oglethorpe pounded on the door with his stick. There was a sudden hush
in the room, then a wild scurry and a slamming door. He rattled the
knob and, to his surprise, for he had assumed that these wild parties
of his young friends were soundly barricaded, the door opened.
There were only four young men standing about a table covered with the
remains of a chafing dish supper and many champagne bottles, but an
excited whispering came through the partition. Young Farren was
leaning against the table, his large moon-face pallid with fright. As
he recognized Oglethorpe and Clavering fright was wiped out by
astonishment and relief.
"Thought you were the police," he muttered. "Though they've got no
business here----"
"I've come for Janet. Go into that room and bring her out at once."
"Janet ain't here. Haven't seen Janet for a week. Tried to get her on
the 'phone early this afternoon and couldn't----"
"If you don't go into that room and fetch her, I will." As he started
for the inner door, Farren with drunken dignity opposed his broad bulk.
"Now, Mr. Oglethorpe, you wouldn't do that. Ladies in there. Chorus
girls----"
"That's a lie. Stand aside."
Farren, who was very young and very drunk, but who had a rudimentary
sense of responsibility where girls of his own class were concerned,
burst into tears. "You wouldn't, Mr. Oglethorpe! I swear to God
Janet's not there. But--but--some of her friends are. They wouldn't
want you to see them." His mood changed to righteous indignation.
"What right you got breaking into a gentleman's rooms like a damned
policeman? It's an outrage and if I had a gun I'd shoot you.
I'd--I'd----" And then he collapsed on a chair and was very sick.
Oglethorpe turned to Clavering, who had thought it best to remain in
the hall and watch other exits. "Just stay there, will you?" He
turned to the three gaping youngsters. "You dare make a move and I'll
knock your heads together. Just remember that you're drunk and I'm
sober."
He went into the next room, and immediately saw several forms under the
bed. He reached down and jerked them out by their legs. They rolled
over, covering their faces and sobbing with fright. Emancipated as
they were and disdainful of pre-war parents, when it came to late
parties in a bachelor's rooms they exercised strategy to slip out, not
defiance.
"Oh, Mr. Oglethorpe," gasped one convulsively. "Don't tell on us,
p-l-e-a-s-e."
"I've no intention of telling on you. You can go to the devil in your
own way for all I care. I'm after Janet----"
"She's not here----"
"That's what I'm going to find out." He opened the door of a wardrobe
and another girl tumbled into his arms, shrieked, and flung herself
face downward on the bed. But it was not Janet. He investigated every
corner of the apartment and then returned to Clavering, slamming the
door behind him.
"She's not there, Lee," he said, leaning heavily against the wall.
"Where in God's name is she? I don't know where to look next. This is
her particular gang. She has no other intimates that I know of. But
what do I know about her, anyway?"
"You're sure she isn't hiding anywhere at home?"
"Searched the house from top to bottom."
"I suppose it isn't likely that she's gone to any of her aunts."
"Good Lord, no. She'd take a chance on mother, but never with any of
the rest of the family, and she's got no money. I saw to that. D'you
suppose she's roaming the streets?"
"Well, she can't roam long; legs will give out. Perhaps she's home by
now or at Mrs. Oglethorpe's. Better telephone."
They went out and found a public telephone. Janet had not been seen
nor heard from.
"You don't think it's going to be another Dorothy Arnold case?" gasped
Oglethorpe, who seemed completely unnerved.
"Good Heavens no, Jim! And she's able to take care of herself. Nobody
better. She'll give you a scare and then turn up--with her thumb at
her nose, likely. Better come up to my rooms and have a drink."
"Orright. I can't go home and I don't want to be alone anywhere. I'd
go out of my senses. Anything might happen to her, and I shan't call
in the police until the last minute. Filthy scandal."
"Police? Certainly not. And as Janet is cold sober, be sure she'll
come to no harm."
A few moments later they were in the lift ascending to Clavering's
rooms. "Hullo!" he said, as he opened the door of his little hall.
"The fool maid has left the light on," and, as they entered the
living-room, "what the devil--" Cigarette smoke hung in the air.
[Illustration: It took a lot of self possession and grit for Zattiany
(Corinne Griffith) and Clavering (Conway Tearle) to hide their feelings
when she alighted to go to the ship which was to return her to Europe.
(_Screen version of "The Black Oxen."_)]
There was a wild shriek from a corner of the room, a slim girl leapt
across the intervening space like a panther, and flinging herself upon
Oglethorpe, beat his chest with her fists.
"You damned old plumber, you old dumb-duck!" shrieked his little
daughter. "What did you come here and spoil everything for? He'd have
had to marry me tomorrow if you'd minded your own business. I'll claw
your eyes out." But her hands were imprisoned in her father's hard
fists, and she turned and spat at the petrified Clavering. "I hate
you! I hate you! But I'm going to marry you all the same. One way or
another I'll get you. I meant to wait awhile; for I hadn't had fun
enough yet, and I'd have precious little with you, you old flat tyre.
But when I heard that old Zattiany woman'd got hold of you--and then
locked up and not able to do a thing--I thought I'd go mad. I dropped
my diamond bracelet out of the window and one of the servants let me
out--I won't tell which. You've been seen coming out of her house at
all hours, but she's a thousand years old and nobody cares what she
does, but I intended to rouse this whole house and I'd have been so
compromised you'd have had to marry me. You're a gentleman if you are
a damned old left-over, and you're a friend of granny's and dad's. I'd
have had you tied up so tight you'd have toddled straight down to the
City Hall."
Clavering stared at her, wondering how women felt when they were going
to have hysterics. What a night! And this girl's resemblance to her
grandmother was uncanny. He could see the Jane Oglethorpe of the
portrait in just such a tantrum. And he had thought he knew both of
them. He wanted to burst into wild laughter, but the girl was tragic
in spite of her silly plot and he merely continued to regard her
stonily.
"How did you get in?" he asked. "That's not easy in this house."
"I just got in the lift and told the boy I was your sister just arrived
from the South and he let me in with the pass key. He took me for
sixteen and said that as you weren't one for chickens he'd chance it."
"He'll get the sack in the morning."
"I don't care what happens to him." Suddenly she burst into tears, her
face working like a baby's, and flung herself into her father's arms.
"Make him marry me, daddy. Make him! I want him. I want him."
Oglethorpe put his arms about her, but his sympathies were equally
divided, and he understood men far better than he did young girls.
"You wouldn't want to marry a man who doesn't love you," he said
soothingly. "Where's your pride?"
"Who cares a damn about pride? I want him and that's all there is to
it." She whirled round again. "Do you think you're in love with that
rejuvenated old dame who's granny's age if she's a day? She's
hypnotized you, that's what. It isn't natural. It isn't. It isn't."
"I certainly shall marry Madame Zattiany if she will have me."
"O-h-h." Tears dried. She showed her teeth like a treed cat. Her
eyes blazed again and she would have precipitated herself upon him, but
her father held her fast. "Oh! Oh! Oh! It can't be. It can't be.
It's as unnatural as if you married granny. It isn't fair. How dare
she come here with her whitewash and sneak young girls' lovers away
from them?"
"Really, Janet."
"Oh, I know, you thought you didn't care for me, but you always did,
and I'd have got you in time. I knew there was no chance for Marian
and Anne; they're old maids, and I'm young--_young_. If I'd cut out
the fun and concentrated on you I'd have got you. I wish I had! I
wish I had! But you were such an old flat tyre I thought you were
safe."
"What in heaven's name makes you think you're in love with me?"
exploded Clavering. "Your opinion of me is anything but complimentary,
and I'm everything your chosen companions are not. You don't want me
any more than I want you. You've simply been playing some fool game
with yourself----"
"It's not! It's not! It's the real thing. I've been in love with you
since I was six. Ask daddy. Daddy, didn't I always say I was going to
marry him?"
"Yes, when you were little more of a baby than you are now. Can't you
imagine how ashamed you'll be of such an undignified performance as
this?"
"I ashamed? Not much. I always intend to do just as I please and damn
the consequences."
"A fine wife you'd make for Lee or any other man."
"I'd make him the best wife in the world. I'd do everything he told
me. No, I wouldn't. Yes, I would." Sheer femaleness and the spirit
of the age seesawed inconclusively. "Anyhow, I'd make you happy,
because I'd be happy myself," she added naïvely. "Much happier than
your grand-mother----"
"Perhaps you will oblige me by making no further allusion to Madame
Zattiany."
"No, I won't. And the first time I see her when there's a lot of
people round I'll tell her just what she is to her face."
"If you dare!" Clavering advanced threateningly and she swung herself
behind her father, who, however, took her firmly by the arm and marched
her to the door.
"Enough of this," he said. "You come home and pack your trunk and
tomorrow we take the first steamer out of New York. If there isn't
one, we'll take the train for Canada----"
"I won't go."
"It's either that or a sanitarium for neurotics. I'll have you
strapped down and carried there in an ambulance. You may take your
choice. Good night, Lee. Forget it, if you can."
As Clavering slammed the door behind them he envied men who could tear
their hair. He had wanted to spend a long evening alone thinking of
Mary Zattiany, dreaming of those vital hours before him, and he had
been treated to a double nightmare. For the moment he hated everything
in petticoats that walked, and he felt like taking a steamer to the
ends of the earth himself. But he was more worn out than he knew and
was sound asleep fifteen minutes later.