MAN
Herbert remained with Captain Janson for several hours. The man and the
boy were mutually attracted. After some further conversation regarding
David Harkins, the sailor said:
“Now tell me your story.”
Herbert did so as briefly and as modestly as possible. He told of his
difficulty with the Argus; but discreetly avoided all reference to
Arthur Black and the manner in which he had saved him at the expense of
his own position.
“My boy,” said the Captain, when he had concluded, “it’s all right;
don’t worry about these little things. The first thing we have to do
is to straighten out the memory of your father with the people of
Cleverly. You know how these stories stick in small communities. My
boy, we’ll hoist sail and bear down on the port of Cleverly at once,
and when we land there we’ll let the natives know a thing or two. We’ll
let ’em know that David Harkins was one of Nature’s noblemen, and now
that he’s gone to Davy Jones’ locker, he has left a friend and a son
who will take care of his memory.”
The following day they both took the train and went to Cleverly. Their
first visit was to the office of the Cleverly Banner, where Captain
Jansen was introduced to Noah Brooks. The editor and the sailor had not
talked for ten minutes before they became fast friends. Presently they
were joined by Horace Coke, the lawyer, who had always been a friend
of the Harkins family, and who was delighted with the turn things had
taken. After a general conversation in which all hands joined, the
sailor suddenly pounded his hand on the desk, and said earnestly:
“Messmates, I’m here for a purpose, and a specific purpose. Dave
Harkins was an honest man. I want everybody else to know that fact. How
can I do it?”
Noah Brooks scratched his head for awhile, and then said musingly:
“You might print a story in the Banner, telling all about your visit
that night, and explaining how you came to give him those ten $100
bills. How does that strike you?”
“Pardon me,” interrupted the lawyer, “but that doesn’t strike me very
favorably. It would look forced. Besides everybody knows that Brooks
is a friend of Herbert Harkins, and some people might be inclined to
think the story was a little overdrawn.”
“Yes, that’s so,” admitted Brooks, “but I hardly know how you can get
around it in any other way. Besides, I would do this thing freely and
voluntarily. It is not a question of expense or money.”
“Money!” shouted the old sailor, “who said anything about money? I
want you to understand that money is not to stand in the way of this
business. There isn’t any expenditure that I could make that would help
the memory of Dave Harkins that I wouldn’t undertake.”
“Do you mean that?” asked Brooks.
“Of course I mean it. By the way, while I am here I would like to do
something for this town of yours. What do you need just now?”
The lawyer laughed at this.
“You talk like a millionaire.”
“Well,” responded the sailor, “I am not a millionaire, but I’ve got
enough to live on and a little over, too, and if I can make somebody
else feel happy I’m going to do it.”
“You asked me just now,” said the lawyer musingly, “what you could do
for the town.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well,” responded the other, “a little fountain in the middle of the
main street wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would be the means of slaking
the thirst of both man and beast. We had one there some years ago, and
it was mighty useful; but it’s worn out now, and we have no means of
replacing it.”
“What will it cost?” asked the sailor.
“Not more than two thousand dollars,” responded Mr. Coke; “that would
finish the whole thing in first-class style.”
“It’s a go!” shouted the sailor, jumping up; “get the thing up in good
shape, and get it up as quickly as possible.”
Then and there specifications were drawn up, advertisements given out
and the draft of a communication made to city councils. Within thirty
days the whole thing had been completed and was ready for dedication.
On the morning fixed for the celebration it slowly dawned on Herbert’s
mind that the sailor and the lawyer had a fixed purpose in all that
they had done, and this purpose was only now beginning to unfold
itself. He got his first inkling of this when he noticed the little
silver plate on the side of the fountain, saying that it been erected
by Captain Thomas Janson to the memory of his lifelong friend, David
Harkins.
Mrs. Harkins wept a great deal when she saw this plate, which was a
very good thing for her, because it relieved her pent up feelings
and enabled her to recall memories of the dead without doing her any
serious injury. Herbert, on the other hand, was flushed with conscious
pride. A committee of the city councils had the affair in charge, and
they made Mrs. Harkins, Herbert and Captain Janson the guests of honor.
The Mayor of the city made the speech accepting the fountain, and then
Captain Janson, as the closest friend of David Harkins, was called on
for a few remarks.
The speech that he made that day was one of the most remarkable that
had ever been delivered in the town. It told the story of the life of
David Harkins, and how he had once befriended the speaker during what
he firmly believed was the crisis of his life. He then related in great
detail how he had come to Cleverly late that night and forced his old
friend to accept the ten $100 bills. Thus, without making any direct
reference to the ancient rumors that had flourished in the town, the
stain attached to the memory of David Harkins was removed in the most
effective manner possible. John Black and his daughter were present at
the ceremonies, and at the conclusion of the set speeches Mr. Black
arose and paid a fervent tribute to the integrity of David Harkins.
Altogether everything was done in the most complete manner, and the
affair was a great success and a red letter day in the history of
Cleverly.
The story of the event was told in a full page report in the current
issue of the Banner. To the delight of Mr. Brooks, Herbert had
volunteered to write the report, and it proved to be one of the best
pieces of reporting that had ever been done for the local paper.
Captain Janson was the hero of the occasion. He remained in Cleverly
for about a week, and he spent his money so lavishly and with such
utter unconcern that he came to be looked upon as a modern Monte Cristo.
During his stay he formed quite an intimacy with Noah Brooks, and it
was not very long before the whole-hearted sailor and the eccentric
editor were almost indispensable to each other. Sitting in the Banner
office one day Janson said:
“See here, Brooks, Cleverly looks to me like a good port in a storm.
It strikes me that it would be a pretty good place for an old worn out
hulk like Captain Janson. I’ve got a great notion to gather my stores
and anchor here for the rest of my life.”
Brooks thought so, too, and said he felt satisfied that the Captain
would never have cause to regret making the change in his dwelling
place. The sight of the two old men sitting on the porch exchanging
stories of the varied experiences they had undergone during their
stormy lives was a picture not to be forgotten very quickly. At least
Herbert Harkins thought so, and when he finally took the train for his
return to New York the pretty little scene remained engraved upon his
memory.