A morning or two later the shadow called Marvin reached Chicago.
Millions remember how it was in their own homes. Sometimes the whole boy
came, sometimes only his shadow, sometimes only a long box. But there
was always welcome.
He spent the afternoon lying flat on his back, while father and mother
and Anita hovered around for fear his heart would stop beating unless
they watched. They brought the telephone to his side and let Augustus
talk to him from Duluth. They brought it again and let Charles talk to
him from California.
And then after dinner he gave them all the slip—all except his mother.
She knew she could not stop him, and so she gave him his latch key, and
kissed him, and wished him good luck. An hour later he was in a north
shore suburb called Wetumpka.
A taxicab set off with him through a wilderness of private parks and
arrived before a lofty pair of wrought iron gates, through which they
were admitted by a porter who eyed them narrowly. There was a long
winding approach to the house, which was an immense thing, copied after
old Moyn’s Park, in Essex.
Once arrived before the stone steps, he foolishly dismissed his driver,
mounted and rang, gave the butler three cards, and was ushered into a
small reception room.
Presently a tall lean figure appeared, holding the cards close to his
dark blue eyes.
“You are not welcome in this house, Mr. Mahan.”
Marvin rose, and stood at attention.
“I am sorry, Mr. Ferry. What I wish to know is whether I am unwelcome to
Miss Gratia.”
“You will not see Gratia.”
“Your daughter is of age, sir. I shall certainly see her, and I shall
certainly do myself the honor of asking her to become my wife.”
“You will do nothing of the sort. But I am sorry that you have lost a
hand, and I’ll not deny that you look well in your uniform. I don’t take
much stock in uniforms, but I don’t wonder that the girls like to look
at you.”
Marvin lifted his military cap and settled it on his head.
“What you say concerning your country’s uniform is of small weight. Open
the door for it.”
Asher Ferry turned to summon his butler.
“Take your hand off that button!”
Asher did so.
Once off the steps, Marvin started for the iron gates. But his heart was
thumping so hard that he had to sit down on a carved bench in the midst
of ghostly bushes. As he sat there, a car from the house passed him. It
was slipping away through the night with a note addressed to Chase
Mahan, Esq. The note was brought to that person in his study, and read
as follows:
Sir:
I guess your son is about as bad as you are. He has been to my
house this evening. He says he is going to ask my daughter to
marry him. That won’t do.
Yours truly,
Asher Ferry.
The reader’s brows drew together, and the long smooth central portion of
his countenance settled back within the muscles of his jaw, leaving the
lips undisturbed.
He came and laid the note in the hand of his wife, who read it with
quiet eyes.
“It is not pleasant, but it was what we had to expect.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
“Dearest, I want you to put Asher Ferry under such obligations that he
can’t refuse to let his daughter marry our boy.”
“Does she want to marry him?”
“I don’t know. That’s Marvin’s business.”
Chase walked round to the other side of the table and sat down.
“Asher Ferry is worth fifty times as much money as I am. How can I put
such a man under obligations?”
“Perhaps you can’t. I’ve seen you accomplish things as if by white
magic, but you’re no match for Asher Ferry.”
Chase snorted.
“He’s a damned poltroon.”
“That’s forcible, dear, but I never heard you speak of iron ore so
carelessly.”
“Helen, that man is magnetite, or he could never hold thirty thousand
men together. But there’s a yellow streak in him. There’s phosphorus in
him, and titanium. If it weren’t for that, he’d be a great idealist.”
“I’m sure that’s a nice analysis. Now just go into your study and think
up some way of turning his yellow streak into idealism. I’ve heard you
say that phosphorus is just the thing for third rails, and that titanium
prevents train wrecks, and I certainly wish to prevent wrecking our
boy’s life. When you hear me sing something, come in and speak to
Marvin. By that time you’ll have a plan.” Chase obeyed.
About eleven o’clock he heard her begin to play the musical setting of
Lamartine’s poem, Jocelyn. Then arose the subtly comforting words of the
refugee mother to her child.
He came to the door of the study and looked. Marvin had come in, and was
leaning on the piano, pale and grave.
The father sauntered forth and stood at the other side of the piano
until the song was finished. Then he remarked, “I call that a lullaby
that any man might go to sleep to. Anyhow, I’m going, unless the boy
wants to sit up.”
“I’m not sleepy, sir.”
“Then let’s hear about your plans. How soon do you expect to be mustered
out?”
“It’s hard to say, but I presume by the first of July.”
“And after that?”
“I have no plans. If you have any sort of job at your disposal, I’ll
take it.”
“Marvin, that’s no proper remark for a specialist in carbon. Everything
in that group ought to interest you. Carbon, silicon, titanium—”
“Stop there, sir. Send me after titanium, if you know a country where it
occurs without admixture of girls.”
Chase laughed. “If you’ll come back one step in the group, I can use
you.”
“Silicon dioxide?”
“Precisely. But under sealed orders.”
“The less discretion you allow me, the better. Do I go abroad?”
“Later, perhaps, but for the present the St. Mary’s river will serve.
Are you willing to run up there and buy me some rock?”
“Perfectly willing. How much?”
“Twenty acres, in two parcels, islands preferred.”
“How pure?”
“In one parcel it makes no difference. In the other pure enough to be
freely acidic. Is it true that the government is dumping TNT into the
ocean?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Isn’t that a waste?”
“Certainly. It’s easier to handle than dynamite, and any farmer could be
taught to use it.”
“Then I’d like some of it.”
“You can’t get it.”
“I’ll lay you five hundred dollars that I’ll buy fifty thousand pounds
at less than ten cents a pound.”
“I’ll take you.”
At this point the mother had something to say. “Chase Mahan, you ought
to be ashamed of yourself. You’d better tell him that if you succeed,
you will pay for a lecture at Yale on the evils of betting.”
“Very good. Marvin, if I get that explosive you may draw on me for five
hundred and waste it on your alma mater.”
“How much am I to pay for the silica?”
“Whatever you think it’s worth. Pay somewhere between ten dollars an
acre and a thousand. Ten thousand for either island is the upward
limit.”