Yates had stubbornly refused to give up his search for rest and quiet
in spite of the discomfort of living in a leaky and battered tent. He
expressed regret that he had not originally camped in the middle of
Broadway, as being a quieter and less exciting spot than the place he
had chosen; but, having made the choice, he was going to see the last
dog hung, he said. Renmark had become less and less of a comrade. He was
silent, and almost as gloomy as Hiram Bartlett himself. When Yates tried
to cheer him up by showing him how much worse another man’s position
might be, Renmark generally ended the talk by taking to the wood.
“Just reflect on my position,” Yates would say. “Here I am dead in love
with two lovely girls, both of whom are merely waiting for the word. To
one of them I have nearly committed myself, which fact, to a man of my
temperament, inclines me somewhat to the other. Here I am anxious to
confide in you, and yet I feel that I risk a fight every time I talk
about the complication. You have no sympathy for me, Renny, when I need
sympathy; while I am bubbling over with sympathy for you, and you won’t
have it. Now, what would you do if you were in my fix? If you would take
five minutes and show me clearly which of the two girls I really ought
to marry, it would help me ever so much, for then I would be sure to
settle on the other. It is the indecision that is slowly but surely
sapping my vitality.”
By this time, Renmark would have pulled his soft felt hat over his eyes,
and, muttering words that would have echoed strangely in the silent
halls of the university building, would plunge into the forest. Yates
generally looked after his retreating figure without anger, but with
mild wonder.
“Well, of all cantankerous cranks he is the worst,” he would say with a
sigh. “It is sad to see the temple of friendship tumble down about one’s
ears in this way.” At their last talk of this kind Yates resolved not to
discuss the problem again with the professor, unless a crisis came.
The crisis came in the form of Stoliker, who dropped in on Yates as the
latter lay in the hammock, smoking and enjoying a thrilling romance. The
camp was strewn with these engrossing, paper-covered works, and Yates
had read many of them, hoping to came across a case similar to his own,
but up to the time of Stoliker’s visit he had not succeeded.
“Hello, Stoliker! how’s things? Got the cuffs in your pocket? Want to
have another tour across country with me?”
“No. But I came to warn you. There will be a warrant out to-morrow or
next day, and, if I were you, I would get over to the other side; though
you need never say I told you. Of course, if they give the warrant to
me, I shall have to arrest you; and although nothing may be done to you,
still, the country is in a state of excitement, and you will at least be
put to some inconvenience.”
“Stoliker,” cried Yates, springing out of the hammock, “you are a white
man! You’re a good fellow, Stoliker, and I’m ever so much obliged.
If you ever come to New York, you call on me at the _Argus_
office,--anybody will show you where it is,--and I’ll give you the
liveliest time you ever had in your life. It won’t cost you a cent,
either.”
“That’s all right,” said the constable. “Now, if I were you, I would
light out to-morrow at the latest.”
“I will,” said Yates.
Stoliker disappeared quietly among the trees, and Yates, after a
moment’s thought, began energetically to pack up his belongings. It was
dark before he had finished, and Renmark returned.
“Stilly,” cried the reporter cheerily, “there’s a warrant out for my
arrest. I shall have to go to-morrow at the latest!”
“What! to jail?” cried his horrified friend, his conscience now
troubling him, as the parting came, for his lack of kindness to an old
comrade.
“Not if the court knows herself. But to Buffalo, which is pretty much
the same thing. Still, thank goodness, I don’t need to stay there long.
I’ll be in New York before I’m many days older. I yearn to plunge into
the arena once more. The still, calm peacefulness of this whole vacation
has made me long for excitement again, and I’m glad the warrant has
pushed me into the turmoil.”
“Well, Richard, I’m sorry you have to go under such conditions. I’m
afraid I have not been as companionable a comrade as you should have
had.”
“Oh, you’re all right, Renny. The trouble with you is that you have
drawn a little circle around Toronto University, and said to yourself:
‘This is the world.’ It isn’t, you know. There is something outside of
all that.”
“Every man, doubtless, has his little circle. Yours is around the
_Argus_ office.”
“Yes, but there are special wires from that little circle to all the
rest of the world, and soon there will be an Atlantic cable.”
“I do not hold that my circle is as large as yours; still, there is
something outside of New York, even.”
“You bet your life there is; and, now that you are in a more sympathetic
frame of mind, it is that I want to talk with you about. Those two girls
are outside my little circle, and I want to bring one of them within it.
Now, Renmark, which of those girls would you choose if you were me?”
The professor drew in his breath sharply, and was silent for a moment.
At last he said, speaking slowly:
“I am afraid, Mr. Yates, that you do not quite appreciate my point of
view. As you may think I have acted in an unfriendly manner, I will
try for the first and final time to explain it. I hold that any man who
marries a good woman gets more than he deserves, no matter how worthy he
may be. I have a profound respect for all women, and I think that your
light chatter about choosing between two is an insult to both of them. I
think either of them is infinitely too good for you--or for me either.”
“Oh, you do, do you? Perhaps you think that you would make a much better
husband than I. If that is the case, allow me to say you are entirely
wrong. If your wife was sensitive, you would kill her with your gloomy
fits. I wouldn’t go off in the woods and sulk, anyhow.”
“If you are referring to me, I will further inform you that I had
either to go off in the woods or knock you down. I chose the less of two
evils.”
“Think you could do it, I suppose? Renny, you’re conceited. You’re not
the first man who has made such a mistake, and found he was barking
up the wrong tree when it was too late for anything but bandages and
arnica.”
“I have tried to show you how I feel regarding this matter. I might have
known I should not succeed. We will end the discussion, if you please.”
“Oh, no. The discussion is just beginning. Now, Renny, I’ll tell you
what you need. You need a good, sensible wife worse than any man I
know. It is not yet too late to save you, but it soon will be. You will,
before long, grow a crust on you like a snail, or a lobster, or any
other cold-blooded animal that gets a shell on itself. Then nothing can
be done for you. Now, let me save you, Renny, before it is too late.
Here is my proposition: You choose one of those girls and marry her.
I’ll take the other. I’m not as unselfish as I may seem in this, for
your choice will save me the worry of making up my own mind. According
to your talk, either of the girls is too good for you, and for once I
entirely agree with you. But let that pass. Now, which one is it to be?”
“Good God! man, do you think I am going to bargain with you about my
future wife?”
“That’s right, Renny. I like to hear you swear. It shows you are not
yet the prig you would have folks believe. There’s still hope for you,
professor. Now, I’ll go further with you. Although I cannot make up my
mind just what to do myself, I can tell instantly which is the girl for
you, and thus we solve both problems at one stroke. You need a wife
who will take you in hand. You need one who will not put up with your
tantrums, who will be cheerful, and who will make a man of you. Kitty
Bartlett is the girl. She will tyrannize over you, just as her mother
does over the old man. She will keep house to the queen’s taste, and
delight in getting you good things to eat. Why, everything is as plain
as a pikestaff. That shows the benefit of talking over a thing. You
marry Kitty, and I’ll marry Margaret. Come, let’s shake hands over it.”
Yates held up his right hand, ready to slap it down on the open palm of
the professor, but there was no response. Yates’ hand came down to his
side again, but he had not yet lost the enthusiasm of his proposal. The
more he thought of it the more fitting it seemed.
“Margaret is such a sensible, quiet, level-headed girl that, if I am as
flippant as you say, she will be just the wife for me. There are depths
in my character, Renmark, that you have not suspected.”
“Oh, you’re deep.”
“I admit it. Well, a good, sober-minded woman would develop the best
that is in me. Now, what do you say, Renny?”
“I say nothing. I am going into the woods again, dark as it is.”
“Ah, well,” said Yates with a sigh, “there’s no doing anything with you
or for you. I’ve tried my best; that is one consolation. Don’t go away.
I’ll let fate decide. Here goes for a toss-up.”
And Yates drew a silver half dollar from his pocket. “Heads for
Margaret!” he cried. Renmark clinched his fist, took a step forward,
then checked himself, remembering that this was his last night with the
man who had at least once been his friend.
Yates merrily spun the coin in the air, caught it in one hand, and
slapped the other over it.
“Now for the turning point in the lives of two innocent beings.” He
raised the covering hand, and peered at the coin in the gathering gloom.
“Heads it is. Margaret Howard becomes Mrs. Richard Yates. Congratulate
me, professor.”
Renmark stood motionless as a statue, an object lesson in self-control.
Yates set his hat more jauntily on his head, and slipped the
epoch-making coin into his trousers pocket.
“Good-by, old man,” he said. “I’ll see you later, and tell you all the
particulars.”
Without waiting for the answer, for which he probably knew there would
have been little use in delaying, Yates walked to the fence and sprang
over it, with one hand on the top rail. Renmark stood still for some
minutes, then, quietly gathering underbrush and sticks large and small,
lighted a fire, and sat down on a log, with his head in his hands.