THE SMOKING-OUT OF AMZI
Although a Holton had brought scandal upon the house of Montgomery by
eloping with one of its duly married daughters, or perhaps because of
that disagreeable circumstance, Mrs. Hastings, Mrs. Fosdick, and Mrs.
Waterman were constantly exercised over the affairs of the Holtons. The
Holtons prospered, as witness the fashion in which William (the wicked
Jack's brother) had built up the First National Bank after the
dissolution of the old Montgomery & Holton partnership. And there was
Samuel, who had varied his political activities by organizing companies
to raise vanilla beans or sarsaparilla, or to dig silver in Mexico--a
man of affairs, unquestionably, who had outgrown Montgomery and moved to
the state capital where he died. Even Samuel's paltry achievements were
touched with a certain magnificence in the eyes of these ladies; Samuel
had escaped from Montgomery and this was a consummation that had long
been the burden of their prayers. The very existence of the First
National Bank was offensive to the sisters of Amzi Montgomery. They had
wanted Amzi to "nationalize" his bank when the break occurred and it had
been "just like" their stubborn brother to continue in the old rut.
Mrs. William Holton lived in a modern house that was superior to
anything the Montgomerys could boast. It had two bathrooms, a
music-room, and electric lights. In Montgomery one bathroom had long
been a summit-crowning achievement, to which the fortunate possessor
might point with pride; and as for dedicating a room to music, and
planting in it a grand piano flanked by a bust of Mozart, and shedding
upon it a dim opalescent glow from concealed lights--no one in the
community had ever before scaled such heights of grandeur.
For half a dozen years after their sister's escapade the Montgomery
sisters had not spoken to a Holton; but in such communities as theirs
the "cutting" of persons with whom one has been brought up is attended
with embarrassments. William Holton had married, a little late, a
Memphis woman he had met on a trip to Mexico to inspect the plantations
in which he and his brother Samuel were interested. She was "a Southern
woman," with a charming accent, as every one admitted. The accent was
greatly admired. Several young girls sought to soften the vowels of
their native Hoosier speech in conformity with the models introduced by
Mrs. Holton. The coming of this lady, the zest with which she entered
into the social life of the town, the vacillations of certain old
friends of the Montgomerys who had taken sides against the Holtons after
the Kirkwood incident, had given the three sisters an excuse for
abandoning the feud in so far at least as it applied to William Holton.
In any view of the case, no matter how base the Holtons might be, there
was no reason why the family sins should be visited upon the lady with
the aforesaid accent, whose taste in dress was unassailable and who
poured tea with such an air.
Amzi read his newspaper in the little back room of the bank on a
November afternoon and awaited the coming of his sisters. The necessity
for any business discussions between them had steadily diminished. Their
father's estate had long ago been distributed, and Amzi had not troubled
himself as to the subsequent fate of the money he had paid to his
sisters. They were all blessed with husbands, and if these gentlemen did
not safeguard their wives' property it was no affair of his. There had
been about half a million dollars, which meant in round figures a
hundred thousand dollars apiece, and this in Montgomery is a great deal
of money.
When his sisters arrived, Amzi rose with the nice courtesy that lay in
him and placed chairs for them about the table. Then panting from his
exertion he pulled a cigar from his waistcoat and dry-smoked it. They
were unwontedly grave, suggesting the gloom of a committee appointed to
perfect funeral arrangements for a poor relation.
"You have talked to Phil about the party, I suppose," said Mrs.
Waterman.
"I have: I most certainly have, Josie," replied Amzi, sighing heavily.
"And she's going to do what we want?"
Amzi tilted his head to one side reflectively, and took the cigar from
his mouth.
"She's going to stand for the party, if that's what you mean; but as to
doing what you want on general principles, I'm not so dead sure."
"It was your duty, Amzi, to go into the matter thoroughly--to lay down
the law to her," observed Mrs. Fosdick.
"All right," nodded Amzi. "In the words of the poet, I done it. But Phil
doesn't need lectures."
"Doesn't need them?" sniffed Mrs. Fosdick. "That poor child couldn't
have a lecture too many. She always pulls the wool over your eyes. It's
right and proper for us to know just what she said when you told her she
had to stop running round so much and act like a respectable
well-brought-up girl."
"You're a lot of silly geese about Phil--all of you," declared Amzi,
bringing his gaze to bear upon them _seriatim_. "Phil is far from being
a fool, and there's a heart in her as big as the court-house. We don't
appreciate her; we're always nagging her and trying to reform her."
The plural was pure chivalry. It was not Amzi who nagged Phil. The
aunts, perfectly aware of this, and ready usually to challenge any
intimation that their attitude toward Phil was not dictated by equity
and wisdom, were silent. Their failure to respond with their customary
defense aroused his suspicions. They had been to a tea somewhere and
were in their new fall togs. Their zealous attempts to live up to what
were to him the absurdest, the most preposterous ideals, struck him
just now as pathetic; but he was fond of his sisters. If the course of
their lives was inexplicable and their ambitions ridiculous and futile,
his good humor never failed in his intercourse with them. But they had
not disclosed their hand on this occasion--he was confident of this--and
he warily fortified himself to meet whatever assault their strategy had
planned. The three women glanced at one another covertly: Kate and Fanny
seemed to be deferring to their older sister. It was with unmistakable
diffidence and after a minute scrutiny of her cardcase that Mrs.
Waterman spoke.
"Amzi, this is an important time in Phil's life, and there are some
things we ought to counsel each other about. We all take it for granted
that you know where Lois is."
Amzi crossed his fat legs and shrugged his fat shoulders. He was not in
the least pleased by the direction of the inquiry.
"We feel we are entitled to know all you know about her," added Mrs.
Fosdick.
"You should remember," said Mrs. Hastings, "that she's our sister as
well as yours."
Amzi's jaws tightened and he inspected the end of his cigar. This sudden
manifestation of sisterly interest in Lois was not without its amusing
side. They had long ago spurned their sister with bitterness, and his
speculations as to the real object of their visit had not touched the
remote horizons against which Lois was vaguely limned.
"I don't see," he observed deliberately, "that Lois has anything
whatever to do with Phil or any of the rest of us."
"Of course not, Amzi. That's exactly the point. We only want to be sure
she's a long way off; we're entitled to know that. And we've heard--"
Mrs. Hastings laid upon _heard_ that fine, insinuating inflection that
is a part of the grammar of gossip. His sisters had heard something, and
while he discounted its value automatically, as was his way, he was not
without curiosity as to its nature. They saw that he was interested.
"The Walters have just got back from a Western trip, and they heard in
Seattle that Lois has left Holton. He had been doing badly--drinking,
and all that."
"It was bound to come, of course," said Mrs. Waterman. "You can't tell
me that people who do a thing like that can ever be happy."
Her tone did not please Amzi. It was clear that he found the whole
subject disagreeable. He was immensely annoyed that they had come to him
to discuss Lois after years of silence. It was as though a great rock
planted in the avenue of her exit had succumbed to the tooth of Time and
its exfoliations were falling ominously about him.
"I thought it was understood long ago that we had dropped Lois. If she
and Holton got tired of each other, it's their business. I don't imagine
you want me to send for her to come home."
"Amzi!" they gasped.
It seemed that this shuddering exclamation expressed a horror that shook
their very souls. It was incredible that so dark a thought should have
crossed the mind of a man commonly looked upon as sane.
"That would be the limit," cried Mrs. Hastings. "Don't even mention such
a thing--it's too horrible to joke about."
"I wasn't joking. If she's gone to smash with Holton, I thought maybe
you wanted us to bring the prodigal home, and give her veal loaf for
Sunday evening tea. By the way, Kate, don't ever turn me loose on any of
your veal loaf again. The last I had at your house gave me indigestion;
it might have led to apoplexy and killed me."
The fierceness of his frowning caused his scalp to wrinkle clear back to
his fringe of hair. His sisters were vexed by his attempt to relieve the
discussion with humor. It was necessary to sober him, and Mrs. Hastings
thought she could effect the sobering of Amzi.
"Minnie Walters says they have lost their money; the judge saw Jack
Holton, but you know how the judge is; he wouldn't ever speak of it to a
soul."
"Minnie would," said Amzi dryly.
"Minnie only mentioned it in the kindest way," said Mrs. Waterman,
coloring. "You know Minnie doesn't gossip; but as an old friend of our
family she thought we ought to know. I think it was kind of her to tell
us."
"Well, it doesn't seem to have made you girls much happier. What on
earth are you going to do; what do you want me to do?" he demanded,
blowing out his cheeks and glaring.
"We don't want you to do anything, Amzi," said Mrs. Hastings, with that
sweetness with which women of little discernment attempt to blunt the
wrath of man.
It was important to keep Phil in the picture: with Phil dancing before
them Amzi could be held in subjection. Mrs. Waterman hastened to mention
Phil and the responsibility they all felt about her, to justify their
curiosity as to Phil's mother. Amzi blew his nose and readjusted his
spectacles. Mrs. Waterman advanced the battle-line boldly.
"We assume that you have always kept in touch with poor Lois and that
you still hear from her. And we feel that the time has come for you to
treat us more frankly about her. It's for Phil's sake, you know, Amzi."
Amzi could not see how any of the later transactions in the life of
Phil's mother were of the slightest importance to Phil. He shook his
head impatiently and shrugged his shoulders.
"Lois," he blurted, "is in Dresden."
"Then she _has_ left him!" cried Mrs. Fosdick, with a note of triumph
that trumpeted the complete vindication of Mrs. Waterman's averments.
"I tell you I don't know anything about Holton," replied Amzi, who had,
in strictest truth, told them nothing of the kind. He experienced the
instant regret suffered by secretive persons who watch a long-guarded
fact slip away beyond reclamation; but repentance could avail nothing,
so he added,--
"Yes; she's abroad. She's been over there for some time."
"Of course, he's run through her money; that was to be expected!"
exclaimed Mrs. Fosdick in a tone that implied a deep resentment of the
fate that had robbed the erring Lois of her money.
"If he did she never told me so," Amzi answered. "But Lois was never
what you might call a squealer; if he robbed her you can be pretty dead
sure she wouldn't sob about it on the street corners. That wouldn't be a
bit like the Lois I remember. Lois wasn't the woman to go scampering off
after the Devil and then get scared and burst out crying when she found
her shoes beginning to get hot."
After all these years Amzi had spoken, and his sisters did not like his
tone. Their brother, a gentleman the correctness of whose life had never
been questioned, was referring to the conduct of the sister who had
disgraced her family in outrageous and sinful terms. The Prince of
Darkness and the fervid pavements of his kingdom were not to be brought
into conversation with any such lightness, as though the going to the
Devil were not, after all, so horrible--not something to be whispered
with terror in the dark confessional of their souls. One might have
imagined that Lois's very sins had endeared her to this phlegmatic older
brother! There was not only this gloomy reflection, but his admissions
had opened long vistas to their imaginations. He probably knew more than
he meant to disclose, and this made it necessary to continue their
pumping with the greatest discretion.
"It would be hard if she came back on you for help--after everything
that's happened; but of course that would be your affair, Amzi," said
Mrs. Hastings leadingly.
"It would," Amzi admitted explosively. "It undoubtedly would!"
This, in their eagerness, seemed an admission. The interview was proving
fruitful beyond their fondest hopes. He had doubtless been in Lois's
fullest confidence from the first; and darkest of all, it was wholly
likely, now that she had broken with Holton, that Amzi was supplying her
with the means of subsistence in the capitals of Europe. Around this
last thought they rallied.
"Of course, if Lois should really be in need, Amzi," said Mrs. Waterman,
"it would be the duty of all of us to help her; that would only be
right. But even if it comes to that we should have to consider Phil,
too. When you think of everything, our responsibility is much greater
for Phil than for Lois. Phil is here; her life's before her; she's one
_of_ us, you know, Amzi."
"Right, Josie; you are mighty right. What you mean is that if it came to
a question of Lois's starving in Europe and Phil's starving on our
doorsteps, we'd help Phil first because she's right here under our
noses. But I don't understand that Lois is starving; nor is Phil for
that matter. Phil's all right."
The thought that he was sending money to Lois was disagreeable; that he
should be doing so when Phil's needs cried so stridently aroused the
direst apprehensions. They had all received from Amzi their exact
proportion of their father's estate; even Waterman had never been able
to find a flaw in the adjustment. Through Waterman they had learned that
Lois's proper receipt was on file; they knew exactly the date on which
it had been placed of record in the county clerk's office. They had
looked upon this as the final closing of all the doors that shut this
sister out of their calculations. They, or their children, were
potential beneficiaries in Amzi's property if he ultimately died a
bachelor. And there was no telling when his asthma might be supplemented
by a fatal pneumonia. This was never to be whispered in so far as the
chances of their own offspring were concerned; but of Phil and the
propriety of her expectations they might speak with entire candor.
"While we are talking of these matters," observed Mrs. Hastings, "we may
as well face one or two things that have troubled us all a good deal.
You know as well as we do that poor Tom has gradually been playing out;
it's pitiful the way he has been letting his business go. Every one
knows that he has ability, but he's been living more and more up in the
air. He owns the block over there and the rent he gets from that is
about all he has. And I shouldn't be at all surprised if the block had
been mortgaged."
"I've heard," said Mrs. Waterman, examining a button on her white glove,
"that he has borrowed money on it."
They looked guardedly at Amzi. Mrs. Waterman's husband, who kept an eye
on the county records, had, at his wife's behest, assured himself
frequently that Kirkwood's block in Main Street was unencumbered.
Kirkwood's former home, the decaying monument to his domestic tragedy,
and the only other thing he owned, was free also. In this process of
"smoking out" their brother it would have helped if they could have
pointed to the menace of her father's encumbered property to Phil; but
they had already learned more than they had expected in establishing
beyond per-adventure the fact that Lois and Amzi maintained
communication, and that in all likelihood he was providing for her in
her exile. It was high time they scanned the top shelves of the closet
occupied by the dancing family skeleton!
"While we're about it we may as well face the possibility that Tom may
marry again," remarked Mrs. Fosdick suddenly.
Amzi drew his hand across his pink dome.
"Nothing to hinder him that I know of," he replied.
"I don't know of anything that would wake him up unless it would be
that. The right sort of woman could do a lot for a man like Tom, with
all that he has suffered." This from Mrs. Waterman, who seemed deeply
moved by the thought of Kirkwood's sufferings.
"But Phil--I can't imagine Phil with a stepmother. We never could allow
that; we should have to take her away from him," declared Mrs. Fosdick.
Amzi rested his elbow on the table, and breathed hard for a minute. He
took the unlighted cigar from his mouth and waved it at them.
"What's got into you girls anyhow! You're borrowing trouble in all the
banks in the universe--a little above your line of credit. You seem
terribly anxious about Lois all of a sudden. It just happens that I
know she ain't hungry, and that she's over there living like a
respectable woman. Lois isn't like the rest of us; Lois is different!
There's more electricity in Lois than the rest of us have; you know it
as well as I do. Now just to satisfy your curiosity I'll tell you that I
saw Lois--"
"You saw her!" they chorused.
"I saw her in Chicago about two months ago. She was on her way to Europe
then; I had dinner with her and put her on the train for New York, and
she sailed the day she got there; so now, if you're scared to death for
fear she's going to turn up here in town, you can put it clean out of
your minds."
They sighed their relief. He was not given to long speeches and the
effort of his recent deliverances caused him to cough, and the coughing
brought his voice finally to a high wheeze. He had not quite finished
yet, however.
"Now, as for Tom Kirkwood marrying," he went on, "let him marry. It's
none of our business, is it? He married into our family and got the
worst of it. It wasn't a particularly cheerful business, the way it came
out. If he's fool enough to try it again, it's his trouble not ours; and
you can't tell but he might make a go of it next time."
"We have no idea of trying to hinder him," said Mrs. Waterman with
dignity. "As you say, it's Tom's trouble. And of course we could manage
so Phil wouldn't suffer, no matter what he did."
"Phil suffer! Thunder! What are you always talking about Phil for; I
tell you Phil's all right! Phil's got more gumption than all the rest of
us put together. Phil's an honor to the family; she's the best girl in
this town and the best girl in the whole state of Indiana, or the United
States, for that matter. If you have visions of seeing Phil chased over
the back lot by any stepmother, you have another guess coming. Thunder!"
He drew out a white silk handkerchief and blew his nose. The sisters saw
with regret that there was no recurring to the attractive subject of
that interview in Chicago, though their minds were beset with a thousand
questions they wished to ask him about it. They realized that to do so
would be a blunder. They had stumbled upon a gold mine and were obliged
to leave its rich hoard untouched. They returned to Phil, who, as a
topic, offered safer ground than her mother.
"Phil's party," said Mrs. Hastings briskly, "ought to be in keeping with
the family dignity. We thought it a lot better for you to have it in
your house than for us--our own houses are small." (This with
resignation.) "And it doesn't seem quite nice for _us_ to have it in the
Masonic Hall, though some of the nicest people are doing that. To bring
Phil out in her grandfather's house speaks for the whole family. And
it's dear of you to consent to it. We all appreciate that, Amzi."
"Of course it's the place for it!" affirmed Amzi impatiently. "I'll give
that party and you can get whatever Phil needs and do it right; you
understand? And then I want you to give me all the bills. Now what else
do you want?"
"We feel," began Mrs. Fosdick, "that the invitations, which will go out
in your name, should take in everybody we want Phil to know."
Amzi grinned guardedly.
"That's pretty good, Fanny. Do you suppose there's a man, woman, baby,
or yellow dog in this town that Phil doesn't know? I doubt it. But go
on."
"We don't mean that way, Amzi," said Mrs. Waterman patiently. "We
mean--"
"Thunder! Go on!"
"We mean that the list should be representative--that old differences
should be put aside."
The wrinkles on Amzi's pink pate scampered back to find refuge in his
absurd fringe of pale-gold hair. Mrs. Waterman advanced her pickets
hurriedly.
"You know we've had to recognize the Holtons of late, disagreeable
though it has been. William isn't like Jack--you know that; and when he
brought his wife here, a perfect stranger, it didn't seem fair to ignore
her."
"The fact is," Mrs. Fosdick interpolated, "we simply couldn't, Amzi.
This town's too small to carry on a feud comfortably. We all stopped
speaking to the Holtons after poor Lois left, but the rest of them
couldn't help what Jack did; and, of course, Lois--"
"You want to ask Mr. and Mrs. William to Phil's party?"
Mrs. Fosdick, fearing from the fierceness with which he reduced the
matter to words, that he was about to veto the suggestion, hastened to
strengthen their case.
"For business reasons, Amzi, we feel that we ought to bury the hatchet.
Paul has to meet William Holton constantly. No matter what we think,
William _is_ really one of the wide-awake business men of the town, and
in all sorts of things; and Paul has to keep him on the executive
committee of the Commercial Club--the president of the First National
Bank can't be overlooked, though you can't ever doubt Paul's devotion to
all our interests."
"And," Mrs. Waterman added, "Mr. Holton retained Alec in a case last
winter."
"Yep," observed Amzi, "he did. It was that suit about opening up Chapel
Street and I was one of the defendants." And then he added, with
calculated softness, as though recalling a pleasant memory, "Alec lost
the suit."
The mention of the Chapel Street Extension had been an unfortunate slip
on Mrs. Waterman's part; but Amzi was generous.
"Bill Holton is undoubtedly a leading citizen," he observed, looking at
the ceiling and rubbing his nose absently. The irony of this, if he
intended any, was well hidden. William Holton, president of the First
National Bank, was a business rival, and Amzi never abused his
competitors. Having satisfied his curiosity as to the ceiling, he
announced his complete acquiescence in the idea of inviting the William
Holtons. "No objection whatever," he declared, "to asking Bill and his
wife. Is that all of 'em you want?"
"Well, there are Ethel and Charlie. They've just closed their house here
and mean to live in Indianapolis, but of course they still belong here.
Charlie is doing very well, they say--quite a brilliant young man; and
Ethel is very sweet and well-bred. She went to Miss Waring's school in
Indianapolis and knows some of the nicest young people in the city. I
think it would be nice to ask them; it always looks well to have some
out-of-town guests."
"That Sam's children you're talking about? What's the matter with the
other boy?"
"Fred? I think the less we say about him the better. He's been down in
Mexico on one of Sam's schemes and I guess he didn't do well. He's on
the old farm next your place. I guess Ethel and Charlie can represent
that branch of the family. If you think--" began Mrs. Fosdick, anxious
that Amzi should be fully satisfied.
"Thunder! I don't think. You fix it up to suit yourselves."
They began to adjust their wraps, fairly well satisfied with the results
of the visit. Amzi eyed their autumnal splendors with the mild wonder a
woman's raiment always aroused in him.
"Tom marry again, you say," he observed pensively. "What's put that idea
in your head?"
"Why, you know as well as we do, Amzi, that he and Rose Bartlett are
very sympathetic," exclaimed Mrs. Hastings, veiling a sharp glance at
him. The three women, feigning inattention, were alert for their
brother's reply. It came promptly.
"Rose is a fine woman," he said with cordial emphasis. "A fine woman.
And," he immediately added, "so's Nan!"
Then he thrust his hands into his coat pockets and filled his cheeks and
glared.
They were grieved by the mention of Nan. The bluff heartiness with which
he had expressed his admiration for Rose had been gratifying and
satisfying; but by speaking with equal fervor of Nan he had sent them
adrift again.