THE DOWNWARD WAY
Making the rounds of the house one night before retiring, Lucy came
upon Ben Davison rummaging through the desk in his father’s room. The
drawers of the desk had been pulled out, the small safe had been
opened, and papers littered the chairs and floor. Surprised thus, Ben
faced her with an angry oath. She saw that he had been drinking.
Instead of putting color into his pale face, intoxication always made
it unnaturally white and set a glassy stare in his eyes.
“What are you doing here, Ben?” she demanded.
“I’m looking for money,” he declared surlily. “Is it any of your
business?”
“I think it is, when you begin to look for it in this way. Uncle
Philip doesn’t know you’re up here.”
“I’m going to have money, that’s what!” he snarled. “Let him give me
the money I need, instead of driving me to tricks like this.”
“He gave you money only the other day; I saw him.”
“How much? A hundred dollars! There’s money in this room, or there
was, and I know it; and I’m going to have it. I’m going to have as
much as I want, too, when I get my hands on it.”
“I shall have to report you, Ben!”
He caught her fiercely by the shoulders, with a clutch that made her
wince and cry out in pain.
“You have hurt me, Ben!” she sobbed.
“I’ll kill you, if you come meddling with my affairs!”
He pushed her against the wall, and faced her with so threatening a
mien that she was frightened. The glare in his glassy eyes was enough
to make her tremble.
“If you say anything about this I’ll kill you! Do you hear? And if you
know where the money is I want you to tell me.”
“I don’t know anything about it,” she declared.
“Curse you, I believe you do! I want money, and I’m going to have it.
I’ve got to have a thousand dollars; it’s here, and I know it.”
He began to search again, tossing the papers about.
“Uncle Philip never keeps so much money as that in the house, and you
should know that he doesn’t.”
“Well, he could get it for me if he wanted to. He’s got plenty of
money. I’m tired of being treated like a beggar. He says he’s carrying
on his business so that he’ll have money to leave me when he’s dead;
but that isn’t what I want—I want it now.”
“Won’t you go down stairs, Ben?” she begged. “You almost broke my
shoulder, but I shan’t mind that if you will go down stairs; and I’ll
straighten up these papers for you and return them to their places.”
“I won’t! I’m going to see if that money he got from Fogg yesterday is
here.”
“He put it in the bank of course, Ben; he wouldn’t run the risk of
keeping it in the house.”
“You go down stairs or I’ll make you,” he threatened.
She did not go.
“What do you want the money for—to pay a gambling debt to Arkwright?”
“Arkwright!” he screamed at her. “It’s always Arkwright! But I’ll tell
you, this money isn’t for him. Instead of troubling me, why don’t you
go to that puler, Justin? He’ll be glad to see you, maybe; I’m not. So
clear out.”
“He is your brother!”
“My half-brother, _he_ says; I’ve not acknowledged the relationship
yet!”
She could do nothing with him, and she retreated down the stairs. For
some time she heard him walking about; then he descended and left the
house. When he was gone she went up to the room and found that he had
tried to re-arrange the papers, but had made a mess of it. She put
them away as well as she could, and closed the drawers and the safe.
She did not believe that he had secured any money, but she did not
know. And she passed a bad night, not knowing whether to acquaint
Davison with this latest of Ben’s escapades or not.