Read Dawn O'Hara: The Girl Who Laughed Page 18


  CHAPTER XVIII. PETER ORME

  A man's figure rose from the shadows of the porch and came forward tomeet us as we swung up to the curbing. I stifled a scream in my throat.As I shrank back into the seat I heard the quick intake of Von Gerhard'sbreath as he leaned forward to peer into the darkness. A sick dread cameupon me.

  "Sa-a-ay, girl," drawled the man's voice, with a familiar littlecackling laugh in it, "sa-a-ay, girl, the policeman on th' beat's got mespotted for a suspicious character. I been hoofin' it up an' down thisblock like a distracted mamma waitin' for her daughter t' come home froma boat ride."

  "Blackie! It's only you!"

  "Thanks, flatterer," simpered Blackie, coming to the edge of the walk asI stepped from the automobile. "Was you expectin' the landlady?"

  "I don't know just whom I expected. I--I'm nervous, I think, and youstartled me. Dr. Von Gerhard was taken back for a moment, weren't you,Doctor?"

  Von Gerhard laughed ruefully. "Frankly, yes. It is not early. Andvisitors at this hour--"

  "What in the world is it, Blackie?" I put in. "Don't tell me thatNorberg has been seized with one of his fiendish inspirations at thistime of night."

  Blackie struck a match and held it for an instant so that the flareof it illuminated his face as he lighted his cigarette. There was nolaughter in the deep-set black eyes.

  "What is it Blackie?" I asked again. The horror of what Von Gerhard hadtold me made the prospect of any lesser trial a welcome relief.

  "I got t' talk to you for a minute. P'raps Von Gerhard 'd better hearit, too. I telephoned you an hour ago. Tried to get you out to the bay.Waited here ever since. Got a parlor, or somethin', where a guy cantalk?"

  I led the way indoors. The first floor seemed deserted. The bare,unfriendly boarding-house parlor was unoccupied, and one dim gas jet didduty as illumination.

  "Bring in the set pieces," muttered Blackie, as he turned two more gasjets flaring high. "This parlor just yells for a funeral."

  Von Gerhard was frowning. "Mrs. Orme is not well," he began. "She hashad a shock--some startling news concerning--"

  "Her husband?" inquired Blackie, coolly. I started up with a cry. "Howcould you know?"

  A look of relief came into Blackie's face. "That helps a little. Nowlisten, kid. An' w'en I get through, remember I'm there with the littlehelpin' mitt. Have a cigarette, Doc?"

  "No," said Von Gerhard, shortly.

  Blackie's strange black eyes were fastened on my face, and I saw anexpression of pity in their depths as he began to talk.

  "I was up at the Press Club to-night. Dropped in for a minute or two,like I always do on the rounds. The place sounded kind of still when Icome up the steps, and I wondered where all the boys was. Looked intothe billiard room--nothin' doin'. Poked my head in at the writin'room--same. Ambled into the readin' room--empty. Well, I steered for thedining room, an' there was the bunch. An' just as I come in they give aroar, and I started to investigate. Up against the fireplace, with onehand in his pocket, and the other hanging careless like on the mantel,stood a man--stranger t' me. He was talkin' kind of low, and quick,bitin' off his words like a Englishman. An' the boys, they was starin'with their eyes, an' their mouths, and forgettin' t' smoke, an' lettin'their pipes an' cigars go dead in their hands, while he talked. Talk!Sa-a-ay, girl, that guy, he could talk the leads right out of a ruled,locked form. I didn't catch his name. Tall, thin, unearthly lookin'chap, with the whitest teeth you ever saw, an' eyes--well, his eyes wassomethin' like a lighted pipe with a little fine ash over the red, justwaitin' for a sudden pull t' make it glow."

  "Peter!" I moaned, and buried my face in my hands. Von Gerhard put aquick hand on my arm. But I shook it off. "I'm not going to faint," Isaid, through set teeth. "I'm not going to do anything silly. I want tothink. I want to... Go on, Blackie."

  "Just a minute," interrupted Von Gerhard. "Does he know where Mrs. Ormeis living?"

  "I'm coming t' that," returned Blackie, tranquilly. "Though for Dawn'ssake I'll say right here he don't know. I told him later, that she wastakin' a vacation up at her folks' in Michigan."

  "Thank God!" I breathed.

  "Wore a New York Press Club button, this guy did. I asked one of theboys standin' on the outer edge of the circle what the fellow's namewas, but he only says: 'Shut up Black! An' listen. He's seen every darnthing in the world.' Well, I listened. He wasn't braggin'. He wasn'ttalkin' big. He was just talkin'. Seems like he'd been war correspondentin the Boer war, and the Spanish-American, an' Gawd knows where. Hespoke low, not usin' any big words, either, an' I thought his eyeslooked somethin' like those of the Black Cat up on the mantel just overhis head--you know what I mean, when the electric lights is turnedon in-inside{sic} the ugly thing. Well, every time he showed signs ofstoppin', one of the boys would up with a question, and start him goin'again. He knew everybody, an' everything, an' everywhere. All ofa sudden one of the boys points to the Roosevelt signature on thewall--the one he scrawled up there along with all the other celebritiesfirst time he was entertained by the Press Club boys. Well this guy, helooked at the name for a minute. 'Roosevelt?' he says, slow. 'Oh, yes.Seems t' me I've heard of him.' Well, at that the boys yelled. Thoughtit was a good joke, seein' that Ted had been smeared all over the firstpage of everything for years. But kid, I seen th' look in that man'seyes when he said it, and he wasn't jokin', girl. An' it came t' me, allof a sudden, that all the things he'd been talkin' about had happenedalmost ten years back. After he'd made that break about Roosevelt hekind of shut up, and strolled over to the piano and began t' play. Youknow that bum old piano, with half a dozen dead keys, and no tune?"

  I looked up for a moment. "He could make you think that it was a concertgrand, couldn't he? He hasn't forgotten even that?"

  "Forgotten? Girl, I don't know what his accomplishments was when youknew him, but if he was any more fascinatin' than he is now, then I'mglad I didn't know him. He could charm the pay envelope away from areporter that was Saturday broke. Somethin' seemed t' urge me t' go upt' him an' say: 'Have a game of billiards?'

  "'Don't care if I do,' says he, and swung his long legs off the pianostool and we made for the billiard room, with the whole gang after us.Sa-a-ay, girl, I'm a modest violet, I am, but I don't mind mentionin'that the general opinion up at the club is that I'm a little wizard withthe cue. Well, w'en he got through with me I looked like little sisterwhen big brother is tryin' t' teach her how to hold the cue in herfingers. He just sent them balls wherever he thought they'd look pretty.I bet if he'd held up his thumb and finger an' said, 'jump throughthis!' them balls would of jumped."

  Von Gerhard took a couple of quick steps in Blackie's direction. Hiseyes were blue steel.

  "Is this then necessary?" he asked. "All this leads to what? Has notMrs. Orme suffered enough, that she should undergo this idle chatter?It is sufficient that she knows this--this man is here. It is a time foraction, not for words."

  "Action's comin' later, Doc," drawled Blackie, looking impish."Monologuin' ain't my specialty. I gener'ly let the other gink talk. Younever can learn nothin' by talkin'. But I got somethin' t' say t' Dawnhere. Now, in case you're bored the least bit, w'y don't hesitate oneminnit t'--"

  "Na, you are quite right, and I was hasty," said Von Gerhard, and hiseyes, with the kindly gleam in them, smiled down upon the little man."It is only that both you and I are over-anxious to be of assistance tothis unhappy lady. Well, we shall see. You talked with this man at thePress Club?"

  "He talked. I listened."

  "That would be Peter's way," I said, bitterly. "How he used to love tohold forth, and how I grew to long for blessed silence--for fewer words,and more of that reserve which means strength!"

  "All this time," continued Blackie, "I didn't know his name. When we'dfinished our game of billiards he hung up his cue, and then he turnedaround like lightning, and faced the boys that were standing around withtheir hands in their pockets. He had a odd little smile on his face--asmile with no fun it, if you know what I mean. Guess you do, maybe
, ifyou've seen it.

  "'Boys,' says he, smilin' that twisted kind of smile, 'boys, I'm lookin'for a job. I'm not much of a talker, an' I'm only a amateur at music,and my game of billiards is ragged. But there's one thing I can do,fellows, from abc up to xyz, and that's write. I can write, boys, in away to make your pet little political scribe sound like a high schoolpaper. I don't promise to stick. As soon as I get on my feet again I'mgoing back to New York. But not just yet. Meanwhile, I'm going to thehighest bidder.'

  "Well, you know since Merkle left us we haven't had a day when we wasn'tscooped on some political guff. 'I guess we can use you--some place,' Isays, tryin' not t' look too anxious. If your ideas on salary can take aslump be tween New York and Milwaukee. Our salaries around here is morewhat is elegantly known as a stipend. What's your name, Bo?'

  "'Name?' says he, smiling again, 'Maybe it'll be familiar t' you. Thatis, it will if my wife is usin' it. Orme's my name--Peter Orme. Know alady of that name? Good.'

  "I hadn't said I did, but those eyes of his had seen the look on myface.

  "'Friends in New York told me she was here,' he says. 'Where is she now?Got her address?' he says.

  "'She expectin' you?' I asked.

  "'N-not exactly,' he says, with that crooked grin.

  "'Thought not,' I answered, before I knew what I was sayin'. 'She's upnorth with her folks on a vacation.'

  "'The devil she is!' he says. 'Well, in that case can you let me haveten until Monday?'"

  Blackie came over to me as I sat cowering in my chair. He patted myshoulder with one lean brown hand. "Now kid, you dig, see? Beat it. Gohome for a week. I'll fix it up with Norberg. No tellin' what a guy likethat's goin' t' do. Send your brother-in-law down here if you want tomake it a family affair, and between us, we'll see this thing through."

  I looked up at Von Gerhard. He was nodding approval. It all seemed soeasy, so temptingly easy. To run away! Not to face him until I wassafe in the shelter of Norah's arms! I stood up, resolve lending me newstrength and courage.

  "I am going. I know it isn't brave, but I can't be brave any longer. I'mtoo tired--too old--"

  I grasped the hand of each of those men who had stood by me so staunchlyin the year that was past. The words of thanks that I had on my lipsended in dry, helpless sobs. And because Blackie and Von Gerhard lookedso pathetically concerned and so unhappy in my unhappiness my sobschanged to hysterical laughter, in which the two men joined, after onemoment's bewildered staring.

  So it was that we did not hear the front door slam, or the sound offootsteps in the hall. Our overstrained nerves found relief in laughter,so that Peter Orme, a lean, ominous figure in the doorway looked in upona merry scene.

  I was the first to see him. And at the sight of the emaciated figure,with its hollow cheeks and its sunken eyes all terror and hatred leftme, and I felt only a great pity for this wreck of manhood. Slowly Iwent up to him there in the doorway.

  "Well, Peter?" I said.

  "Well, Dawn old girl," said he "you're looking wonderfully fit. Grasswidowhood seems to agree with you, eh?"

  And I knew then that my dread dream had come true.

  Peter advanced into the room with his old easy grace of manner. His eyesglowed as he looked at Blackie. Then he laughed, showing his even, whiteteeth. "Why, you little liar!" he said, in his crisp, clear English."I've a notion to thwack you. What d' you mean by telling me my wife'sgone? You're not sweet on her yourself, eh?"

  Von Gerhard stifled an exclamation, and Orme turned quickly in hisdirection. "Who are you?" he asked. "Still another admirer? Jollytime you were having when I interrupted." He stared at Von Gerharddeliberately and coolly. A little frown of dislike came into his face."You're a doctor, aren't you? I knew it. I can tell by the hands, andthe eyes, and the skin, and the smell. Lived with 'em for ten years,damn them! Dawn, tell these fellows they're excused, will you? And bythe way, you don't seem very happy to see me?"

  I went up to him then, and laid my hand on his arm. "Peter, you don'tunderstand. These two gentlemen have been all that is kind to me. I amhappy to know that you are well again. Surely you do not expect me to bejoyful at seeing you. All that pretense was left out of our lives longbefore your--illness. It hasn't been all roses for me since then, Peter.I've worked until I wanted to die with weariness. You know what thisnewspaper game is for a woman. It doesn't grow easier as she grows olderand tireder."

  "Oh, cut out the melodrama, Dawn," sneered Peter. "Have either of youfellows the makin's about you? Thanks. I'm famished for a smoke."

  The worrying words of ten years ago rose automatically to my lips."Aren't you smoking too much, Peter?" The tone was that of a harassedwife.

  Peter stared. Then he laughed his short, mirthless little laugh. "ByJove! Dawn, I believe you're as much my wife now as you were ten yearsago. I always said, you know, that you would have become a first-classnagger if you hadn't had such a keen sense of humor. That saved you." Heturned his mocking eyes to Von Gerhard. "Doesn't it beat the devil, howthese good women stick to a man, once they're married! There's a certaindog-like devotion about it that's touching."

  There was a dreadful little silence. For the first time in my knowledgeof him I saw a hot, painful red dyeing Blackie's sallow face. His eyeshad a menace in their depths. Then, very quietly, Von Gerhard steppedforward and stopped directly before me.

  "Dawn," he said, very softly and gently, "I retract my statement of anhour ago. If you will give me another chance to do as you asked me, Ishall thank God for it all my life. There is no degradation in that. Tolive with this man--that is degradation. And I say you shall not sufferit."

  I looked up into his face, and it had never seemed so dear to me. "Thetime for that is past," I said, my tone as calm and even as his own. "Aman like you cannot burden himself with a derelict like me--mast gone,sails gone, water-logged, drifting. Five years from now you'll thankme for what I am saying now. My place is with this other wreck--tossedabout by wind and weather until we both go down together." There came asharp, insistent ring at the door-bell. No answering sound came from theregions above stairs. The ringing sounded again, louder than before.

  "I'll be the Buttons," said Blackie, and disappeared into the hallway.

  "Oh, yes, I've heard about you," came to our ears a moment later, in ahigh, clear voice--a dear, beloved voice that sent me flying to the doorin an agony of hope.

  "Norah!" I cried, "Norah! Norah! Norah!" And as her blessed arms closedabout me the tears that had been denied me before came in a torrent ofjoy.

  "There, there!" murmured she, patting my shoulder with those comfortingmother-pats. "What's all this about? And why didn't somebody meet me? Itelegraphed. You didn't get it? Well, I forgive you. Howdy-do, Peter?I suppose you are Peter. I hope you haven't been acting devilish again.That seems to be your specialty. Now don't smile that Mephistopheliansmile at me. It doesn't frighten me. Von Gerhard, take him down to hishotel. I'm dying for my kimono and bed. And this child is tremblinglike a race-horse. Now run along, all of you. Things that lookgreenery-yallery at night always turn pink in the morning. GreatHeavens! There's somebody calling down from the second-floor landing.It sounds like a landlady. Run, Dawn, and tell her your perfectlyrespectable sister has come. Peter! Von Gerhard! Mr. Blackie! Shoo!"