"Oh, there's nothing to it," said Duncan, shaking his head and meaning
just the exact opposite of what his words conveyed, for of such is our
modern slang.
"Then you're engaged?" Kellogg had understood perfectly, you see.
"No, not _yet_. I've got two months left--almost."
"So you have. And since she's so strong for you, there's no hurry: let
her take her time."
"I only wish she would." Duncan removed one hand from the pocket the
better to tug at his moustache. "It's got beyond that--to the point
where I have to keep dodging her."
"You don't mean it! That's splendid." Kellogg got up and slapped Nat's
shoulder heartily. "But don't overdo the dodging. She might get her
back up."
"Not she. She'd eat out of my hand, if I'd let her. You don't
understand."
"What's the matter, then? Aren't you strong for her?"
"I wish I were."
"But why? Is there another----?"
"No." Nat shook his head, honestly believing he was telling the truth.
"Only ... I don't look at things the way I did once."
"Just what do you mean by that?"
Nat, squaring himself to face Kellogg, was very serious, now, and
troubled. "See here, Harry," he said: "do you really want me to carry
out the rest of the agreement?"
"Most certainly I do. Why not?"
"Because I'm pretty well fixed here. The business is making good--and
so am I. It won't be long before I can pay you back, with interest, as
we agreed, without having to marry that poor girl and ... and draw on
her money to make good to you."
"You want to go back on our agreement?" demanded Kellogg, with a show
of disappointment and disgust.
"Yes and no. I won't break faith with you, if you insist, but I'd give
a lot if you'd let me off--let me pay back what you advanced and cry
quits.... When you outlined this scheme I was down and three times
out--willing to take a chance at anything, no matter how contemptible.
Now... well, it's different."
"Good heavens! You don't mean you'd be willing to _live_ here?"
Nat smiled, but not mirthfully. "I don't know," he hesitated; "I'm
afraid I'm beginning to like it."
"You, Nat?" Kellogg's amazement was unfeigned. "You, ready to spend
your life here slaving away in this measly store?"
Duncan grunted indignantly. "Hold on, now. Don't you call this a measly
store. There isn't a more complete drug-store in the State!"
"Do you hear that?" Kellogg appealed vehemently to the universe at
large. "Is it possible that this is Nat Duncan, the fellow who hated
work so hard he couldn't earn a living?... Gad, I believe I've arrived
just in time!"
"In time for what?"
"To save you from yourself, old man. Here's the heiress you came here
to cop out, ready and anxious, everything else coming your way and ...
and you're more than half inclined to back out.... You make me tired."
"I suppose I must. But I can't help it. I can't make you see how the
thing looks to me. You know--I've written you all about everything--
what this place has meant to me. Until I came here I never realised it
was in me to make good at anything. But here I have; I'm doing so well
that I'd actually have some self-respect if I wasn't bound to play this
low-down trick on Josie Lockwood. I've worked and succeeded and been
of some service to people who were worth it----"
"Who? Sam Graham?"
"He and his daughter----"
"Oh, his daughter!"
"Now get that foolish idea out of your head; there's nothing in it.
Betty's just a simple, sweet little girl, who's had a pretty hard time
and never a real chance in life--until I managed to give it to her. And
I'd feel pretty good about that if ... Oh, there's no use talking to
you!"
"No; go on; you're very entertaining." Kellogg laughed mockingly.
"Well, I have tried to keep to the terms of our understanding; I
singled out this Lockwood girl and worked all the degrees--didn't say
much, you know--no love-making--just let her catch me looking sadly
at her once in a while..."
"That's the way to work it."
"Yes, that's the way," Nat assented gloomily. "But the longer I keep it
up the meaner I feel and... I wish you'd agree to call it off. ...
These Rubes at first struck me as being nothing but a lot of jay
freaks, but when I got to know them I realised they were just as human
as we are. I like them now and... on the level, I'm getting kind of
stuck on church.... As for work, why, I eat it up!"
Kellogg laughed with delight "Nat," he cried, "my poor crazy friend,
listen to me: This working and church-going and helping old Graham is
all very noble and fine, and I'm glad you've done it. This drug-store
is a monument to the business ability that I always knew was latent in
you. And clean living hasn't done you any harm.... But now you're due
to come down to earth. This place pays you a neat profit. Well and
good! That's all it'll ever do. It's new to you now and you like the
novelty and you're having the time of your life finding out you're good
for something. But pretty soon it'll begin to stale on you, and before
long you'll find yourself hating it and the town--and then you'll be
back where you started. Now, I'm going to hold you to our bargain for
your own sake. If you're stuck on the town and the work you can keep
right on just as well after you're married; but when you do begin to
tire of it, you'll want that fortune to fall back on and do what you
like with. Don't let this chance slip--not on your life!"
"But," Nat argued feebly, "think of the injustice to the girl. From
the way I've behaved since I struck this burg she thinks I'm closely
related to the saints."
"Very well, then; I'll concede a point. If you really think you're
taking a mean advantage of her, when she proposes to you tell her all
about yourself--just the sort of a chap you've been. You needn't
mention our agreement, however. Then if she wants to drop you, I'll
have nothing to say."
"Thank you for nothing," said Duncan bitterly. "A bargain's a bargain.
I gave you my word of honour I'd go through with this thing, and I'll
stick to it. But I tell you now, I don't like it."
"Oh, I know how you feel, Nat. But I _know_ that some day you'll
come to me and say: 'Harry, if you had let me back out, I'd never have
forgiven you.'"
"All right," said Nat impatiently. "I presume you know best."
"You can bet I do. And now I'd like to meet old Graham."
"I'll take you right up--no, I can't. Here comes a customer. But you
just go through that door and upstairs; he'll be in the laboratory--the
front room--and he knows all about you. I'll join you just as soon as
Tracey gets back."