THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE
On the day after the meeting Andrew returned to Ghyllside, and Hilda
met him at the station, her eyes sparkling with delight.
"You have won!" she cried. "Antony came down last night and brought us
the news. Then Gertrude was over this morning and could talk of
nothing else. She said you were splendid, and she got quite vexed when
I told her she needn't speak as if she hadn't expected it."
"After all, my position was a strong one," Andrew said. "It doesn't
need much skill to win the game when you hold the best cards, and of
course Dream Mine was the ace of trumps. Leonard could only throw down
his hand when I brought it out."
"Ah! but how did you get the ace? It wasn't by chance; you searched
for it, starving, in the snow. But it's a silly metaphor--one isn't
allowed to choose one's cards."
"That's true," Andrew replied with a trace of gravity. "It was dealt
to me--I think not by accident. Without it, I should not have won the
game."
Hilda's manner changed, for she was seldom serious long.
"Well," she said, when he had helped her into the waiting trap, "in
the future you'll be called on to play a different one. You can't
reasonably expect to find another mine, and you'll have no excuse for
tramping through the wilds on snow-shoes, after this. Instead of furs
and moccasins, you'll have to wear a silk hat and a Bond street coat,
and write things in ledgers instead of firing off dynamite. How will
you like it?"
"I don't know. However, I suppose it will have to be done; though I
might, perhaps, hire somebody to do the writing for me."
"That would be better," Hilda laughed; "your writing isn't good. But
I'm afraid there's a bit of a trial in store for you to-night. All
your friends and relatives in the neighborhood are coming to dinner
and of course they'll congratulate you and try to look as if you
hadn't astonished them. In a way, the situation is distinctly
humorous."
"How so?"
Hilda broke into a delighted laugh.
"Can't you see it's the triumph of the foolish and looked-down-upon
members of the family? You're a popular hero; Antony's a director; and
I'm no longer a person who needn't be considered!"
"But what had you to do with it?" Andrew asked with unflattering
frankness.
"I believe I pulled some strings in a humble way. You know you're not
really brilliant, Andrew, and I'm afraid you never will be. Perhaps
that's why you can't see the large part we women had in your triumph.
Of course, you can walk a long distance in snow-shoes and use a
pickax; but who led you to think of putting the snow-shoes on?"
"Graham, I believe."
"Try to use some imagination! Go back a little farther. Who made you
see that Allinson's had a claim on you, encouraged you to go to
Canada, and prompted you to right that horrid contractor? Can you deny
that I, and Ethel, and the girl in Canada, now and then gave you the
push you needed? Indeed, I think Miss Frobisher must have been very
firm with you."
"You're right," Andrew admitted. "Am I to understand that you propose
to continue your supervision and assistance in my duties as the
company's manager?"
"You might do worse than consult me sometimes; but you must get a good
partner who knows the things you haven't learned, when Leonard
leaves." Hilda looked up anxiously. "I suppose he is going to leave?"
"I'm inclined to think so," Andrew replied with some severity. "Still,
I haven't seen him since the meeting. It's fortunate I know of a
partner who'll make up for my deficiencies--I mean our old accountant,
Sharpe."
"But surely he has no money!"
"No. You may have heard that money can be valued too highly, and I
believe it's true."
Hilda chatted on general topics during the remainder of the drive, and
soon after he got home Andrew went down to receive his guests. Ethel
Hillyard was the first to arrive, and she smiled at him as she gave
him her hand.
"I have heard the news and am very glad," she said. "But it was only
what I had confidently looked forward to."
"Then you had a narrow escape of being badly disappointed. As a matter
of fact, I owe a great deal to the staunchness of my friends. I should
hardly have pulled through if they hadn't cheered me on."
"That's an easy task. It was you who made the fight."
"I had no choice," said Andrew humorously. "There was no retreat.
Then I was well supported--by Olcott's friend, upon whom I had no
claim, among others."
"Mr. Murray? I don't suppose you know that you won him over by letting
him miss a snipe you could have shot. It's a curious reason for giving
you his confidence, isn't it? But it has struck me that in many ways
you and he are alike."
"After that, I can hardly say that Murray's a good sort," Andrew
laughed. "However, we must drop the subject, for here he comes."
He saw that Murray had not noticed him but was advancing straight
toward Ethel, and that a faint tinge of color showed in her face. Then
after a word of welcome to the man he turned away.
Mrs. Fenwood appeared next and greeted him with more cordiality than
he could remember her displaying.
"It's a gratification to see you following in your father's steps at
last, though I must say that for a long time we doubted your ever
doing so. One recognized that you were influenced by a very proper
sense of your responsibility yesterday, and though I thought you were,
perhaps, somewhat rash, Robert assures me that you showed signs of
business acumen."
"The trouble is that I may not be able to keep on doing so. If
Robert's capable of judging on such a matter, I'm afraid you'll have
to be patient with me and make allowance for my wasted years."
"Don't be flippant. It isn't becoming," Mrs. Fenwood rebuked him. "You
have begun well, and it would be a grief to all of us if you relapsed
again."
Mrs. Olcott came to his rescue and soon afterward they went in to
dinner. Andrew was quiet during the meal, though he felt content. The
strain he had long borne had told on him, and a mild reaction, which
brought a sense of fatigue, had set in. He wanted to rest and he had
not finished with Leonard yet.
It was a calm, warm evening, and though a few shaded candles threw a
soft light over the table, the windows were wide open and the smoky
red of the dying sunset gleamed above the shadowy hills. Wannop was in
a boisterous mood and Hilda abetted him, apparently to Robert's
irritation. Ethel talked to Murray, who seemed gravely interested;
Mrs. Olcott was patiently listening to Mrs. Fenwood; Gertrude now and
then made furtive attempts to check her husband. Andrew looked on with
languid satisfaction, and joined in only when it was necessary.
Presently, to his annoyance, Wannop filled his glass and got up.
"You have all heard what happened in London yesterday," he said. "Now
that we are here together and those who have joined us are our host's
good friends, it seems opportune to wish a long and useful career to
the Head of the House."
They rose with lifted glasses, and Andrew felt a thrill as he read the
good-will in their faces and knew his victory over his relatives'
prejudices was complete. The toast they drank with hearty sincerity
was, in a sense, an act of homage--a recognition of his authority.
Instead of bearing with and trying to guide him, they would
henceforward follow where he led. There was a moment's silence after
they sat down, and then he thanked them awkwardly.
As they left the table Mrs. Fenwood remarked to Hilda, who was nearest
her.
"It's your brother's rightful place, but he was a long time claiming
it; and, after all, I don't see what Leonard can have done that he
should be deposed."
"That lies between him and Andrew," Hilda replied. "I think he's the
only one who knows and he will never tell."
"I'm afraid I haven't appreciated Andrew as he deserves," Mrs. Fenwood
observed with a thoughtful air.
The remainder of the evening passed pleasantly, and the next day
Andrew received a telegram, requesting him to call on Leonard at the
Company's offices. He declined to do so, feeling that if Leonard
wished to make terms, he must come to him; and he smiled when another
message stated that his brother-in-law would arrive that evening. It
was getting dark when Leonard reached Ghyllside and was shown into the
library, where Andrew was waiting for him.
"If you will let your man keep the horse ready I could catch the new
night train back from the junction," he said. "That would, perhaps,
suit both of us best."
"As you wish," responded Andrew.
Leonard laid some papers on the table.
"You made me an offer a little while ago."
"Which you refused," said Andrew.
"I did; things have changed since then."
"They have. Though I told the secretary to take care that only a very
brief notice of the meeting was sent to the papers, news of what took
place has, no doubt, leaked out. It was impossible to prevent this
from happening, and it must have had some effect in the city. You are
afraid it will damage your prestige and weaken your position."
"I'm not prepared to admit that altogether."
"It can't be denied. You no longer command public confidence as you
did. You'll find it has been rudely shaken."
"We'll let that subject drop. I must remind you that your father's
will and the partnership deed prevent your getting rid of me unless
I'm willing to go."
Andrew regarded him with amusement.
"I can't deny it, but I think you will be willing. However, I'd better
say that I don't wish to take an undue advantage of the situation.
What do you propose?"
"That you buy me out, as you offered. I've sketched out the
terms--you'll find them here, with an estimate of my average profits
and what my interest in the firm is worth."
He pushed the papers across the table and Andrew carefully studied
them before he looked up.
"The fairest way would be to submit these figures to an outside
accountant. As soon as he has made up a statement, I'll meet you at
Carter & Roding's office and get them to draw up any documents that
are needed to annul our partnership. Are you agreeable?"
"Yes; we'll consider the thing decided." Leonard hesitated for a
moment. "I don't see," he added, "that you will gain anything by
letting Florence and the others know exactly what we differed about."
"I quite agree with you. There are reasons enough to account for the
split--the incompatibility of our views on business matters, your
objection to taking a subordinate place. Even at the cost of allowing
Florence to blame me, the truth must be kept from her."
"Thank you!" said Leonard. "I believe I've said all that's needful,
and I may as well be off. It's a long drive to the junction."
Andrew let him go. He had accomplished all that he had laid himself
out to do: gained his relatives' confidence, reorganized the mining
company, and got rid of Leonard, who had been a menace to the good
name of Allinson's. It had been easier than he expected; the task he
had shrunk from had become less formidable when boldly attacked,
though he admitted that fortune had favored him. Henceforward he was
his own master, the acknowledged head of Allinson's, and that brought
with it a deep sense of responsibility. Nevertheless, he no longer
felt daunted, for he had gained self-confidence. There were many
things of which he was ignorant; but they could be learned. Then he
remembered that he must go back to Canada for a while after he had
arranged matters with Leonard and had thoroughly informed himself
about Allinson's affairs.
It was a month before he could get away, and Wannop drove to the
station with him. When he shook hands as the train came in he smiled.
"Bring her back with you. Then the credit of the Allinson family will
be in safe hands."
"I'll try," Andrew promised. "I wish I felt more sure of succeeding;
but I wasn't thinking of the credit of the family."
"That's the proper line to take," Wannop answered, smiling, as he
stood with his hand on the carriage door. "Don't be timid. I'm
inclined to think you have done more difficult things."
He made room for Hilda and pulled her back as the train started, and
they stood waving their hands until the last carriage vanished into a
tunnel.
"Andrew needs some encouraging," he remarked. "When there's anything
to be gained for himself, he's too diffident; but perhaps it's a good
fault, and by no means common."
"Though he talked a good deal about the mine, we all know why he's
going back," said Hilda. "I suppose you are satisfied about this Miss
Frobisher?"
"So far as my opinion goes, she's what you might call eminently
suitable. If I had any doubt on the matter Andrew's firm conviction
would decide me. Though it was a long time before the family realized
it, his judgment is to be relied on."
"Yes," agreed Hilda; "in some things, he is really very sensible."
When Andrew reached the Lake of Shadows he found Carnally awaiting him
with a satisfactory account of the progress of development work on the
lode, and they spent some time talking over it in Andrew's room at the
hotel.
"Jake, are you willing to take the post of our general manager in
Canada?" Andrew asked.
"Under Hathersage, as boss director?"
"No, under me. Hathersage has left the firm for good."
"Then I'll be proud to take it," said Carnally quietly.
"It's yours. You haven't asked about the stipend."
"That's so," Carnally drawled. "I guess I can leave you to do the
square thing." Then his eyes twinkled. "I've kept you here some time
talking business, and it strikes me you're anxious to get away. You'll
find a skiff ready, and I'd like to wish you good luck."
"Thanks," responded Andrew soberly. "Perhaps you had better wait until
I come back."
He hurried to the beach and rowed across the lake with steady,
determined strokes, and it happened, but not by accident, that
Geraldine was waiting on the lawn. She had seen a trail of engine
smoke drift across the pines an hour earlier, and at last a skiff
shoot out across the sparkling water. As it drew near the landing she
felt tempted to retreat to the house, but she waited, and the color
crept into her face when Andrew took her hand in a masterful grasp.
"I think you know why I have come," he said at once.
"No doubt you had mining matters to arrange," she answered with an
attempt at light raillery, though her heart was beating fast.
"I had; they have kept me since the train came in, and I never grudged
loss of time so much; but I felt that I required something to steady
me before I rowed across. The fact is, I felt extremely anxious."
"Anxious? You knew you would be welcome."
"To be welcomed as I was sent away didn't seem enough." Andrew held
fast the hand she had given him. "You were very gracious and I knew
what I owed to you, but you kept something back, and it was that I
wanted. I told you how I had got on in England, but I'm afraid I
haven't learned to stand on my own feet yet. You know how you have
helped me so far; won't you do so altogether?"
"If I remember, I said it was criticism you needed," Geraldine
answered softly, looking down.
"That or censure; whatever it is, it will be right if it comes from
you." Andrew's voice grew tense as he drew her nearer. "I ask for the
greatest gift; I need you, Geraldine."
She yielded, looking up at him swiftly with eyes that shone, and then
turned her head, which sank until it rested on his shoulder. It was
getting dusk; the scent of the pines stole out of the shadows and the
call of a loon came ringing to them over the water, as if in blessing.
THE END
JOHN FOX, JR'S.
STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
[Illustration]
The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall
tree that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of
the pine lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail,
and when he finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine
but the _foot-prints of a girl_. And the girl proved to be lovely,
piquant, and the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young
engineer a madder chase than "the trail of the lonesome pine."
THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come."
It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which
often springs the flower of civilization.
"Chad." the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he
came--he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood,
seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and
mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery--a charming
waif, by the way, who could play the banjo better that anyone else in
the mountains.
A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, the lair of
moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner's son, and the
heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened "The Blight." Two
impetuous young Southerners' fall under the spell of "The Blight's"
charms and she learns what a large part jealousy and pistols have in
the love making of the mountaineers.
Included in this volume is "Hell fer-Sartain" and other stories, some
of Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives.
_Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK
STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY
GENE STRATTON-PORTER
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
THE HARVESTER
Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs
[Illustration]
"The Harvester," David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who
draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If
the book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man, with
his sure grip on life, his superb optimism, and his almost miraculous
knowledge of nature secrets, it would be notable. But when the Girl
comes to his "Medicine Woods," and the Harvester's whole sound,
healthy, large outdoor being realizes that this is the highest point
of life which has come to him--there begins a romance, troubled and
interrupted, yet of the rarest idyllic quality.
FRECKLES. Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford
Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which
he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great
Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs
to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The
Angel" are full of real sentiment.
A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.
Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.
The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of
the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness
towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty
of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and
unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.
It is an inspiring story of a life worth while and the rich beauties
of the out-of-doors are strewn through all its pages.
AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.
Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. Design and decorations by
Ralph Fletcher Seymour.
The scene of this charming, idyllic love story is laid in Central
Indiana. The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender
self-sacrificing love; the friendship that gives freely without
return, and the love that seeks first the happiness of the object. The
novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and
its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.
_Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK
Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors, present in the
original edition, have been corrected.
In Chapter I, a period was added after "firing as they got a chance".
In Chapter III, a missing period was added after "_I think you should
stay here and fight it out until he comes back,_ he said".
In Chapter VII, "a man siezing it swung him across" was changed to "a
man seizing it swung him across".
In Chapter VIII, a comma was changed to a period after "I'd feel less
diffident", and "be busied himself" was changed to "he busied
himself".
In Chapter IX, "the hangings where of harmonious hue" was changed to
"the hangings were of harmonious hue".
In Chapter X, "from a neigboring stack" was changed to "from a
neighboring stack".
In Chapter XI, a missing quotation mark was added after "it would be
too late".
In Chapter XII, "its wiser to let one's friends have them" was changed
to "it's wiser to let one's friends have them".
In Chapter XVI, "The blasted, hog" was changed to "The blasted hog",
and a missing quotation mark was added after "before dark".
In Chapter XVII, a quotation mark was removed before "We'll have
mighty keen appetites".
In Chapter XIX, a missing period was added after "the prospectors
might turn up in the next few days".
In Chapter XXI, a missing quotation mark was added after "what the
trouble's about".
In Chapter XXIV, a missing quotation mark was added after "right to
talk about these things".
In Chapter XXV, "I am at your sevice" was changed to "I am at your
service", and "actuated by jealously" was changed to "actuated by
jealousy".
In Chapter XXVII, "some stubborn fight, ing" was changed to "some
stubborn fighting".
In Chapter XXVII, "_Oh,_ he exclaimed _you must have heard enough_"
was changed to "_Oh,_ he exclaimed, _you must have heard enough_", and
"Mr Allinson" was changed to "Mr. Allinson" in two places.
In Chapter XXVII, a comma was changed to a period after "another new
venture".
In Chapter XXVI, "coppper wire" was changed to "copper wire".
In Chapter XXX, "the Company is rotton" was changed to "the Company is
rotten".
In Chapter XXXII, a missing quotation mark was added after "a long and
useful career to the Head of the House", and "he said a once" was
changed to "he said at once".
End of Project Gutenberg's For the Allinson Honor, by Harold Bindloss