WALTER'S mind worked with what he afterward described to himself as an
unquestioning obedience to a first impulse, at the centre of which was
an instantaneous fear of discovery. Before Bauer had taken another step
nearer him he had turned, switched off the power from the lamp, and
snatched up a hammer from his bench.
With one blow he smashed the electrodes and then, as if made frantic
over the act, he struck at the mechanism until it was a heap of bent and
twisted wires and metal. It lay on his bench in a tangled mass and he
stooped over it and began to sweep it off into the refuse box. Bauer had
not yet said a word. Only with the first blow of the hammer he had
ejaculated "Ach!" As Walter was flinging bits of the lamp into the box
the German student came up and stood near, looking at Walter in
astonishment.
"What is the matter?"
Walter simply muttered some unintelligible thing. He was, to tell the
truth, tremendously excited, disturbed, overwhelmed by Bauer's return at
this particular time.
"I've--I've been experimenting and have failed," he finally managed to
say, stammering out the words with great difficulty. He was terrified to
think Bauer might read in his face the whole story.
But Felix Bauer was one of the most simple-hearted and unsuspicious
souls that ever lived. If he had not been, some of the things that are
going to be true of this story could never have happened. He looked at
Walter and then at the broken mechanism and simply said: "I am sorry you
have failed. But it is nothing by the side of dishonor."
And then for the first time Walter looked openly and squarely into
Bauer's face and saw tragedy there. The incandescent light over the
bench was not a strong one. But Bauer was close to him and Walter
quickly saw that he was not thinking of what Walter had done, was not
going to ask him any questions about it, because some other thing was
gripping him, some other thing so strong and insistent and sorrowful
that it took possession of him and dominated him. Walter's action had
already passed out of his mind as simply an incident connected with some
disappointing experiment, and he was looking at Walter with an appeal in
his great, sad eyes which smote Walter like a blow in the dark.
He felt almost faint and instinctively he sat down. Bauer had gone over
to his own desk and stood leaning against it.
"I ought not to come in here and annoy you at this time," he said in his
slow, almost stammering manner, "but I--you see, somehow I felt so
lonely, so afraid, when I got off the train to-night, that I could not
help the desire to see you, and they told me you must be in the shop.
Heine says in the Lorelei, you know, 'Ich weiss nicht was soll es
bedeuten, das Ich so traurig bin?' But I do know why I am so sad. It is
disgrace which has befallen me, such deep disgrace to my home, my
father------"
He stopped and looked at Walter timidly as if not quite sure how his
confidence might be received. Walter sat with his head bowed, and
smitten into silence. He did not know what to say, but Bauer probably
took his silence for quiet sympathy, being of that nature himself and
mistaking Walter's attitude for earnest attention.
"My father--you will understand what it means--has deserted my mother,
and she has run away, the home destroyed is to be, and the disgrace--Oh,
it is greater, more than I can endure, I said as I was obliged to come
back for my things. It is more than I can bear alone, and you are so
strong, so principled."
Walter cowered in his chair, appalled at the thing that was happening to
him. Here was a soul in desperate need who had come to fling itself on
him for companionship and courage, and he with his own soul stained with
deception for the love of fame and money! He would have cried out; he
wanted to, but Bauer went on, now he had broken over his natural
reserve. He eagerly awaited Walter's sympathy, and his spirit hungered
for light in his darkness.
"Yes, you see, I don't know anyone here, and your action about the story
telling in your room--I heard of that--I counted it a brave thing to do.
And, oh, I am so hungry for a friend! I need one; do you think you could
be friend to me, do you, Douglas? Friend to a disgraced family? It is
asking a great deal, but I feel the dark, the dark--it is so heavy for
me------"
Bauer, looking at Walter in his almost animal-like appeal, saw at last
that there was something he did not understand in Walter's attitude.
Walter's mind was not confused by the strange situation, it was clear
and vibrating with feeling. But it was a long time before he could
speak. How could he tell Bauer the truth now? Why not let him remain in
ignorance of the purpose to steal his ideas? Nothing had been done so
far to really wrong him. The lamp was destroyed. Walter would not make
another, and the basis of a possible friendship, such as Bauer needed,
could be established without any explanation or foolish confession.
But somehow Walter could not rest with that suggestion. He felt that if
Bauer had his friendship it must rest on truth and a frank outspoken
revelation of the character of the soul he was appealing to for help.
It was very still in the big shop when Walter finally looked up and said
to Bauer:
"I am not worthy of your friendship. I am not what you think I am."
"Not worthy? Not------" Bauer looked at him in amazement.
"No, not worthy. Look!" Walter spoke fast now as if afraid he might fail
in courage. "Open your locker! Here! here is the key! You left it with
me."
He thrust the key at Bauer, and Bauer turned around, and under the
pressure of Walter's look and voice opened his locker and stood in front
of it holding on to the door.
"There! That paper! Your plan, your drawing of the lamp! Open it. Let me
show------"
Bauer obeyed mechanically. Walter got up and stood by Bauer's table.
Bauer slowly unfolded the paper. His look showed he had almost forgotten
it.
"There! See! You were on the right track! The soft metal teeth coupled
to the electrode! Don't you see?" Bauer's face began to glow for the
first time that evening, for he, too, like Walter, had the inventor's
sensitive hunger. "You left the paper here the night you were called
home. I saw it and copied it before I put it back. I made the model and
it works. That is it there," and Walter pointed to the stuff on the
table and in the refuse box. "Do you understand? I stole your plans. I
was going to get out the lamp without telling you if you had not come
back. And I am the person you want for a friend. Am I worthy? Do you
understand now?"
A dull red spot began to creep up into the German student's face. He was
still holding the locker door with one hand. His eye travelled from the
diagram to Walter and then back again. Walter stood very erect, his head
thrown back almost defiantly now that he had made his confession, and he
was absolutely in the dark as to the effect of it on Bauer. He would and
could not blame him for being angry. And he was angry for a moment. But
only a moment. Then his great brown eyes softened and he said in a
quiet, gentle way that moved Walter more than any burst of passion could
have done:
"I am not a judge for you. While on the way home I suddenly thought out
the secret of the metal teeth. See! I have it here." He took out of his
pocket a paper and opening it spread it out on Walter's desk. Walter saw
in a second's glance that Bauer had discovered the working basis for the
successful light. "And I was going to work on the plan when I came back.
But all my trouble drove it away. I lost my ambition. And I understand
what you did. I might have done the same. But still, Douglas, do you
know, I don't care. I--I am hungry for a friend just like you. What you
have said does not change anything. What difference does that make? That
is not trouble, not for me."
Walter looked at him a moment and then in the reaction which was really
the taking off of the strain of weeks, he put his head between his hands
and sobbed. Bauer did not venture to say anything. When Walter could
control himself he reached out his hand. Bauer took it, and in that
grasp the two young men understood each other for life. I think each
gave as much as he took. The sacred compact they sealed in the big empty
shop that night was made with few words, but it was never disturbed nor
broken in after years. And each one of them realised something of the
depth and joy of real friendship. Do you? Does anybody? Our human
friendships, when they are real and permanent, are the finest and
richest possessions of our lives. Pity we treat them so lightly and
measure them so tamely.
That same night Bauer in his simple manner told Walter something more of
his home troubles, enough to give Walter a glimpse into the real sorrow
of his heart. Walter in his turn told in part the story of his
temptation and of his struggles and tortures to escape. To this Bauer
listened with a faint smile and with perfect understanding.
In the days that followed, they agreed to construct the lamp between
them and share in the profits from it. And when they began work on the
mechanism each found that the other had discovered little improvements
which were necessary to the best construction, finally producing a lamp
far more perfect and practical than Walter's first attempt.
The day after that memorable scene with Bauer in the shop Walter wrote
home a long and exuberant letter, a part of which we may read.
"Mother, I can't begin to tell you what a relief I have experienced
since I told Bauer all about it. I believe I had a little taste of hell
for a while and I don't want to go through it again. Bauer and I are the
best friends you ever saw. He is just the opposite of me. I'm impulsive
and quick and get mad quick and all that. You know all about it, but he
is slow and calm and talks only a little at a time. He is not what you
would call handsome, but he has the most beautiful brown eyes I ever
saw. If I was a girl I would think he was handsome because his eyes are.
He has told me a good deal about his home life and I have told him
something about ours, and he has asked some questions. And, oh yes, he
is coming home with me for the holidays. At first he refused, but when I
told him how much you wanted him to come and how lonesome it would be
for him here he consented to come. I hope you will all like him. Helen
will probably think he is odd and solemn, but I hope she will be kind
and all of us can make him feel at home.
"We are working on the lamp together and it is almost finished. We are
keeping the construction of it a secret because we want to spring it on
Anderson, the foreman. I haven't told you about him. He is all up on
electricity, knows as much about it as Edison, at least he almost says
so at times, and he really does know a lot, but he is the one teacher in
the whole bunch I don't like. There is a manner about him that makes you
feel he has on a dress suit and a stovepipe hat all the time. I heard
the other day he is related to the Van Shaws, a cousin or something of
the steel magnate at Pittsburgh. I have never had any trouble with
Anderson, but I felt relieved the other day to hear that I was not the
only fellow in the school that he ruffled. He is mighty unpopular. Bauer
and I are going to make sure of our lamp first and then give Anderson a
look at it. If the thing goes as well as we expect I don't know how much
there will be in it for us. But if it is anything like what I expect, no
more stewardship for me. I'm tired of waiting on the swells, and since
the Van Shaw episode I've not had a very pleasant time with some of
them. You see, mother, there is a crowd here that seems to think it is
necessary to be coarse and fast in order to be men. The more money they
can spend, the more beer they can drink, the more chorus girls'
photographs they can get to paste up in their rooms, the more tobacco
pipes they can display over and under their mantels, the more slang and
indecency they can learn, the more college atmosphere they think they
are creating. I wonder sometimes why the professors don't seem to care
about the morals of us students. We never hear anything in the class
room or the shop except the technical parts of our studies. I haven't a
single teacher at Burrton that I would go to if I were in real trouble
and I never would think of going to President Davis about anything. He
is a great scholar and hustler for money, but I should hate to have to
go to him for advice or sympathy.
"Well, I have made the letter long enough. I'm getting a little homesick
to see you all, and looking forward to the holidays. Expect me home with
a trunk full of money from the sale of the lamp. If we get it patented
we may either sell the thing outright, or Bauer thinks we can better
make profitable terms with some good electrical manufacturing firm like
Madison Brooks & Co., New York. Love to all.
"Walter."
Mrs. Douglas answered him at once and in the course of her letter
expressed her delight at the happy outcome of Walter's experience with
the lamp and with Bauer's friendship.
"I don't know when you have given your mother more happiness, boy. I was
so happy I cried all the forenoon while your father and Helen and Louis
were out of the house. I am delighted that you have made a friend. Do
you know what that means? If Bauer is what you think he is, you and he
have something more than a trunkful of money. A man or a woman can live
to be fifty years old without gaining more than two or three such
friends as Bauer. So what has really happened to you is a splendid
thing. And I hope you will feel very rich indeed. Of course we would all
be pleased if the lamp turns out to be a success. But I suppose you will
make up your mind to be ready for anything. There are many slips between
models and patents, and it will be well for both of you not to buy
expensive trips around the world on the strength of your discovery until
the money is really in hand.
"Louis is giving us some trouble lately. He is very slow in his studies,
especially his English, Your father, I think, feels annoyed by it,
because he wants Louis to be literary. But Louis's English teacher
brought to your father the other day a composition Louis had written on
the Tuberculosis Outdoor Hospital recently established at the Mansfield
farm by the State Board of Health. Miss Barrows, the teacher, is a very
practical person and she went out to this tuberculosis station with a
section of her class in English, and told the members to keep their eyes
open and on their return to the school to write one hundred words about
what they had seen. And this is Louis's contribution to the symposium:
"'Tuberculosis was started in 1884, by Dr. Trudeau, who had it in the
Adirondacks. Although consumption is not inherited and does not belong
in the climate it is getting very popular. The sleeping bags are very
useful to the consumptive people because they can keep their heads out
and put the rest of their bodies into them. I saw the germs. It is a big
white ball with blue spots on it. I think it would be fine to sleep in
one of those beds with the head inside and the lungs outside.'
"Well, when your father read this, he simply choked. In fact we all
choked, and Helen who happened to get hold of it somehow, just screamed.
Poor Louis was mad at every one of us and especially at Miss Barrows
when he heard she had taken his account to his father. At first your
father thought Louis was trying to be funny at the expense of the
English department in the high school. But he wasn't. He was in dead
earnest, and doing his best. I tell your father that it isn't fair to
ridicule Louis. Ridicule is a dangerous form of criticism and Louis is
very sensitive. I don't blame him for saying that the teacher ought not
to make fun of him when he is trying to get his lessons. He fairly hates
some of his teachers because they use sarcastic or ironical remarks
about him in the presence of the whole school. It seems strange to me
that any teacher will do that, especially in the case of a boy like
Louis. They defend themselves by saying it is the only way to wake up
the students or shame them into doing good work. But I believe they are
wrong in their methods with boys like Louis and I am going to talk with
them about it for his sake.
"We will welcome Bauer with you at the holidays. He will feel at home
with us if your mother has anything to do about it. We all anticipate
his coming. If you are a little homesick to see us we are all more than
a little eager to see you. I pray the good God to keep you pure and
true. Lovingly,
"MOTHER."
Two weeks after this and two weeks before the Christmas holidays, Walter
and Bauer had completed their lamp and given it a test. It was more
perfect by far than Walter's model. It worked with a practical certainty
that left no doubt in their minds that unless some unforeseen factor
came in to change conditions they had a workable, economic mechanism
which was automatic and durable.
Within a day or two they decided to let Anderson into the secret and
Walter asked him to come into the shop at night to see the result of
some special original work. This was a common request and the foreman
simply made his engagement at the hour assigned, and when the hour came
he went in and Watched Walter and Bauer bring out the lamp and make the
necessary connections. Anderson had respect for Walter's ability,
recognising in him the brightest mind for electricity that Burrton had
ever seen in a student. He stood by silently at first while Walter in
considerable excitement and some evident pride did the explaining. But
when the light started in the arc and the brilliant glow of it began to
fling out its dazzling shafts through the shop the professor started
forward, a look of astonishment came over his face and he asked Walter a
question, so unexpected, that Walter turned pale and looked first at
Anderson and then at Bauer in blind wonder and a great sinking of heart.