Howard and I patched up the bow of the Bulow boat and a Government
vessel came and took it away to an Atlantic port, with the five
prisoners also on board. This was safer than the trip by rail and I
was much relieved thereby.
I was instructed by wire to remain to note the effect and pick up
additional information. I was glad as I wanted to get Howard's story
and account of his doings during the last fifteen years, since I left
him in New York, a rich man with enviable surroundings and prospects.
He insisted that I make my headquarters with him, placing little Jim's
swift _Titian_ entirely at my disposal.
He was just the same likable fellow he was the last time I stopped
with him, up in Georgia. He was most attentive, and always anxious for
my safety when I went away, even for a short time, but I had to wait
several days before he was ready to talk.
An alien enemy custodian took charge of the Bulow affairs and marines
were quickly planted on all their ships and tugs before they could be
damaged. In fact everything was working well, so I was in no hurry,
and awaited a convenient time for my heart-to-heart talk with Howard.
One afternoon little Jim took Don marketing in the _Titian_ for fruit
and vegetables up on the mainland of Florida, a small matter, to her,
of sixty or seventy miles. Howard busied himself tinkering about his
big boat, the _Sprite_, getting it ready for sea, myself an interested
onlooker.
"Howard, are you sure you are doing the wisest thing by going on this
way?" I asked as soon as I saw he was through with the job on hand.
"You mean going by the name of Canby?"
"Yes."
"Well--maybe not. You know I never took Canby as a name. They--the
fishermen--just gave it to me, and for a long time it suited my
purposes. I wanted to get away from everybody and everything and if I
had planned it deliberately it could not have come out better. But
little Jim's future bothers me. She can't stay here much longer; she
has got to go to school somewhere, and she, girl-like, wants to go up
North, about which I have told her so much in order to amuse her when
little. What do you think?" he asked, again the simple Georgia
Cracker.
"It will be pretty hard to advise you without knowing more of the
circumstances," I said, dropping down on a seat in the cabin by a
porthole.
He dropped his tools, came in and sat on the other side, throwing off
his hat. His long black mane was turning slightly gray at the temples,
but his body was sturdy and powerful.
"I never before felt as though I could talk about it, and don't
believe I could now to anyone but you. I think it would be a relief to
tell you because you have known me so long and understand so many
things," he said, filling his pipe carefully and lighting up. He
leaned back, crossed his legs, and looked keenly the friendship he
felt for me.
"You know," he began, in wonderful self-restraint, "it takes a long
time to get real, cankerous bitterness out of a man--me anyhow. I
think it was you who told me that hatred, malice, and revenge were the
three arch enemies of peace of mind and development. Wood, I have
remembered that, and am glad I have made some progress, but I suppose
I am like everybody else. I think my trouble has been the worst. I
believe now that if I had followed your advice and not borrowed from
the Transatlantic I could have kept my property, but I would have to
go through some kind of a melting fire to be made into good steel. No
doubt, the family trouble would have come in some other way." I arched
my brows, appearing not to understand.
"You, of course, recall, for I know you don't forget anything, the
last talk we had in the Waldorf in New York," he continued. "You
advised me to sit tight and let good enough alone. That night, and for
a day or two, I thought you had grown over-cautious and conservative,
and had entered the class who hold up their hands and cry be careful,
be cautious; but never do a damn thing for themselves. But I soon
began to see that way myself, and decided to let things be as they
were. Mrs. Potter took the lead against me. That name I have never
pronounced since then, till now. It sounds strange to do so. It seems
like recalling things to memory that might have happened when I was on
earth at some former time. Mrs. Potter, as you well know, was my
sister-in-law, my partner's wife, and while the family stood well
socially, she had a great ambition to be at the head of the Four
Hundred. She wanted to be worth millions. She not only filled Potter
with it but won over her father, and with all of them against me I
gave in and the deal went through. I am satisfied now the
Transatlantic Trust Company plotted to acquire the property. The panic
played into their hands, enabling them to call our loans, without
which we could not run or pay the interest on the bonds. They took
snap judgment and foreclosed as cold as a cake of ice, kicked me out,
and Byng & Potter, Incorporated, was theirs. I had a card up my sleeve
that would have brought them down, but this blackleg Ramund extended
the robbery to my home and wrecked that, too."
Howard stopped here, filled his pipe again and looked at me
appealingly, apparently waiting for me to arrive at the true
significance of his quiet statement of fact.
"Ramund, Ramund, you don't mean to say----" And then, as though shot
between the eyes, I recalled the same name and the peculiar cultivated
inflection given it by Norma Byng some twelve years before. Now the
cause of his extreme interest and agitation when we were examining the
prisoners a few days before rushed upon me like Niagara. I could still
hear Byng's cut--"It is a lie, his name is Ramund--a damned
Prussian!" It was strange I did not remember the name then, especially
as both times it had been connected with a foreign banking house.
"Yes--yes," said Howard, taking his pipe down and looking out of the
cabin door reflectively, "don't you think I have made some progress to
be able to even talk about it now without becoming insane? I am trying
to tell you of a snake that has crawled across my path twice to
destroy me. You know that don't happen often. I should have killed him
the first time. I would have done it had it not been for one thing. I
can think of it now--but I never dared to before. I couldn't tell
anyone but you, even now! You seem to support me."
He stopped, puzzled by the expression on my face as the details of my
meeting with Norma Byng, his wife, years before, rushed through my
mind, and the dreadful sadness with which she told me of the same
occurrence. Her simple story impressed me with added force after the
lapse of time. By gesture I asked him to proceed. The fact was I
could see valuable evidence for the Government, too, in the
circumstances.
"As I said before," he continued slowly, "I had an opportunity and
would have killed him, if he had not been secretly encouraged. I can
see now I was all but insane when they not only took our properties,
confiscating even my private account, leaving me without a cent, but I
had to sell my household effects to live. Then Mrs. Potter started on
another diabolical course. She deliberately undertook to sell my
beautiful wife to the Prussian--and was making headway before I
noticed it. It took me a long time to realize it and I was sure of it
before I acted. I went down to Georgia to get old Don, the only man I
ever entrusted with the full details of how the turpentine and rosin
could be taken from a stump, bringing him back to New York with me.
"Their scheming, now in full swing, was working well. One day I was
told that my wife had gone to Ramund's apartment. Desperate, I went
there, intending to break in the door, but that was not necessary. In
his cocksureness and insolent bravado he had not locked it and I
entered. I heard him tell her how much more he could do for her than a
bankrupt, discredited husband who could be easily removed. No protests
came from my wife. Her silence was consent enough. I was as cool as I
would be hunting for bob-cats. He took her in his arms, kissing her
passionately. She did not resist and that was all that saved his life.
I told her to go home, showed her out and locked the door." Byng
buried his face in his hands for a moment, so I waited silently, until
he began again.
[Illustration: He took her into his arms, kissing her passionately.]
"He was a full match for me physically," said he, wearily, "but my
sense of injury was so burningly intense that every muscle was as
though laminated with steel wire. I felt a strength that knew no
bounds. Fear and prudence had departed in the presence of this home
wrecker. Almost my first blow knocked him senseless, but such a
punishment, even if I had killed him, seemed mean, small, dreadfully
inadequate. Instantly it occurred to me that undesirables should be
unable to reproduce their species. Desperately, perhaps insanely, I
used skill acquired in the pine woods. In a sense I was protecting
little Jim and performing a service toward the world." He looked at me
appealingly, but went on with his story.
"I went home immediately," said he, "but my wife was not there.
Deciding she was unfit to further care for little Jim, I gathered a
few things for the use of both of us, took my child and left within an
hour.
"Though desperate and irrational, a part of my mind worked with
method. The first schooner I ever had, the _Canby_, was considered too
small and worthless to be put in the mortgage. But for old time's sake
I had kept her anchored in a safe place and well looked after. I got
old Don, took the _Canby_ and started somewhere, I did not care a damn
where, except I wanted to get away."
"You came south, of course," I ventured for the sake of saying
something.
"Perhaps it was the attachment we all feel for our birthplace that
made me steer south," he assented. "In a short time we ran into bad
weather, and for what seemed an interminable time drifted with bare
poles. To make sail was impossible. How we ever navigated down the
coast, through the Straits, into the Gulf, I have no rational idea.
All I can recall is that I took great care of little Jim and that
anything else did not matter.
"One morning we fetched up here on this beach, so high that in low
tide the _Canby_ was on dry sand. Her bones are out there now, sacred
to me."
"I would imagine so," said I absently, thinking of the scoundrel
Ramund.
"But I did not feel that way the morning I came ashore, carrying
little Jim in my arms," he continued. "It seemed as though the _Canby_
had added the last drop, the dregs of misfortune, and had deserted me.
I shook my fist at it, but resolved to fight on for little Jim, old
Don's faithfulness being a ray of hope.
"We first made a house tent of the sails of the _Canby_, which we
gradually built permanent. I took to sponging to provide for little
Jim, and I guess you know and can understand the rest," he finished,
struggling with the emotion his whole body expressed.
The sacred solemnity of this powerful, magnificent man, baring his
very soul to me, impressed me profoundly. We remained silent until I
could control my voice. Finally I asked:
"Howard, have you heard anything from the North since you came here?"
"No--not a word. I have not met a soul I ever saw before until you
came. For years I didn't want to. And then a desire to see some one
consumed me. You may think it strange but I was too big a coward--a
downright coward. Somehow I always thought you would find me. I knew
you went to the ends of the earth and sea, and that you would
eventually come. That's why I didn't seem surprised the other day when
I recognized you. When little Jim told me there was a salesman to sell
me goods I never suspected, but I should have known you would not
come with a brass band," he replied, greatly relieved at having
unloaded a burden he had carried for fifteen years.