CHAPTER XX
THE POWER OF SUGGESTION
It is wearing when one's wishes travel faster than events, and have towait for time to catch up. Mrs. Harmon felt it so. "The days go tooslow," she declared to Ellis, a week after his visit to Chebasset.
"Not at all," he answered. "I think they go about right."
"You're like a cat," she said impatiently. "I watched one hunting a birdonce, and it took forever to make its spring."
"But it caught the bird. Then wasn't the time well spent, Lydia?"
"I'm not so cold-blooded," she replied. "I can't be deliberate. I musthave something going on."
"Therefore you listen for the door-bell," remarked he. "Lydia, he can'tcome up to-night."
"Stephen!" she cried as if indignantly--yet she began to smile.
"Mather keeps fair track of him," said Ellis.
"I hate Mr. Mather!" declared the lady with energy.
"What's the use?" inquired the gentleman calmly.
"Upon my word, Stephen," exclaimed Mrs. Harmon, "if any one in this townought to hate him, it's you. He's the one man who stands between youand--and everything you want."
Ellis smiled. "People say so?"
"It's true!" she insisted. "What are your friends in politics mostafraid of? That he will go in against them! Who can make the best standagainst your mayor? Mather, of course! With him as mayor--what then,Stephen?"
"All talk," he answered, still smiling.
"Very well," she retorted. "But if ever it comes to Mather at city hall,Doddridge as district attorney, and my husband on the bench, some peoplewill leave town hurriedly."
"You mean me?" he asked indifferently.
"Of course not," she answered. "But don't laugh, Stephen; there's reallysomething in all this. And in other matters, too. The Judge has sold hisstreet-railroad stock."
Ellis roused at once. "He has? To whom?"
"Mr. Pease."
"Well," and the promoter relaxed again. "I am glad that the Judge is outof it, even if Pease is deeper in."
"Abiel kept back five shares," said the Judge's worthy wife, "and whennext it comes to a stockholders' meeting, he'll be there. I can't doanything with him; you know that well enough. All I can do is to tellyou what he tells me. Stephen," and her voice became persuasive, "whynot take notice of complaints?"
"You mean transfers?" he inquired.
"Yes, and better service: more cars at the rush hours, and moreattention to the suburbs."
"Higher wages to the men, too, I suppose?" he asked.
"You don't want a strike?" she cried.
"Now stop worrying!" he commanded. "You hear the Judge at the breakfasttable, and never see my side. Who does he say are against me--Pease,Fenno, Branderson--all their kind?"
She nodded. "Yes, every one of them."
"Well," he said, "if I have a majority of stock--either mine orbelonging to men who belong to me--all the rich swells in the Statecan't touch me. Lydia, Mather made this street railroad for me; hedidn't know he was doing it, but he did it, and when I wanted it I tookit. It's the best thing I've struck yet, and I'm not going to let it go.Nor the profits, either. Transfers and extra cars? I tell you thepublic's got to ride, and ride in what I allow 'em."
"Very well," she replied. "You usually know what you're about. But thepapers----"
"Rot, rot, rot!" he interrupted. "You hear so much of this Mather talkthat you believe it. Do you read the _Newsman_?"
"Abiel won't have it in the house."
"Buy a copy once in a while, when you feel blue. You'll see thatMather's a man of straw."
"Does Judith Blanchard think him so?"
He turned upon her. "Doesn't she?"
"I don't know what she thinks," she confessed.
"Then," he advised, softening his frown, "wait and watch. I tell youit's going all right."
She wondered that he felt so sure, but she subsided; then other thoughtscame into her mind. "Stephen," she asked, "are you doing much now--onthe market, I mean?"
"Always doing a lot," he replied.
"What's safest and surest?"
"Government bonds," he answered with a smile.
"No, no," she said. "I mean surest to go up and do something quickly."
"Lydia," he responded, "if young Wayne wants to know anything from me,let him ask me himself."
"Oh!" she cried, pouting, "how quick you are! Well, I did ask for Jim."There was just a little hesitation as she spoke the name. "But he getsso little chance to see you. Come, tell me something; give me a tip,there's a good fellow."
"I calculated once," he replied, "that if I told every one who asked,there would be just twice my capital in the market, after the things Iwant. No, Lydia, let every man stand on his own feet; I do my huntingalone."
"Stephen!" she coaxed. "Stephen! Oh, you obstinate thing! At least tellme what you're buying."
"If you want to help young Wayne, don't ask that. I look long waysahead; sometimes I buy to hold, but he can't. I'm not afraid of a drop;he is. Let him work out his get-rich-quick scheme by himself, and he'llbe better off than if I helped him."
"At least tell me what you think of Poulton?" But he was obdurate."Stephen, I'll never ask you a favour again!"
"With that pin at your throat you don't need to," he replied. "Lydia, Inever gave you that."
"I have a husband," and she affected indignation. "How can youinsinuate--oh, Stephen, you see too much. Well, what do you think ofit?"
"I think," he responded with deliberation, "that I've not seen Miss BethBlanchard wearing any new jewelry lately. Aren't you unkind?"
"No!" she pouted again. "I am his mother confessor." Which appeared sohumorous to them both that they laughed; and then, feeling that they hadbeen skating on rather thin ice, they left the subject. Only--Mrs.Harmon wished she knew why Ellis was so sure of Judith.
Had she seen what Mather saw she might have guessed what Mather guessed.Ellis lunching with the Colonel down town, at an out-of-the-way place,to be sure, but lunching with him openly--that meant a good deal. Itwas a French restaurant to which Mather went at times for the sake ofits specialties, but when from the door, one day, he saw the Colonel andEllis at one of the tables, he went away again; yet had been seen.
"He saw us," said Ellis. "And if he saw us, others will. What was theuse of insisting on such a meeting-place, Colonel?"
The Colonel was annoyed, confoundedly so.
"All very well," returned Ellis. "But our business is not secret, anymore than the transactions which go on in the open street. Come, ColonelBlanchard, don't you think it's time for a different line of procedure?"
The Colonel apprehensively asked his meaning.
"I'll tell you," answered Ellis. "Don't think me rude, sir, if I speakfreely. All I've been thinking is that if I'm a business acquaintancemerely, keep me as such. But if I'm a little more, if I'm to come toyour house and your table, let us meet a little more openly--at theExchange Club, let us say. And if I dine at your house again, let'shave," the Colonel's head was bowed, and Ellis therefore spoke boldly,"other people there."
The Colonel marked with his knife upon the cloth. Three times fivethousand, without security, meant that Ellis had passed beyond the stageof business acquaintanceship. Well, never mind; Judith encouraged theman, so where was the harm? The whole thing was the most natural in theworld.
"Why, Mr. Ellis," he said, looking up, "I like this little place to eatin; it reminds me of Paris, you know. I hadn't thought we would seem tobe dodging people." ("Lies better than Wayne," thought Ellis.) "TheExchange Club, of course, if you wish it; it's more convenient, anyway."
But Ellis's reminder, before they parted, the Colonel took hard. "Andperhaps we can have a little dinner-party soon, Colonel?"
"Yes," answered the Colonel. "Yes, yes." He was as near snappish as hedared to be, vindicating his military character. Only the recollectionof his daughter's wishes kept him from being rude, downright rude. Thusthe Colonel to himself, as he went homeward alone.
Yet, instead ofinforming Judith that she was privileged to give a dinner-party, he wasmuch too absorbed to vouchsafe her any account of where he had been."Don't bother me," was his gentle reply when she asked if he had seenany one down town.
"Father!" cried Judith, really hurt.
"But I heard this," said her father, stopping at the door of his study,and giving his piece of news with an unction for which only the passionsof the natural man can account. "They say a street-railway strike iscoming surely, unless Mr. Ellis gives in."
Judith stood with her hands behind her back, regarding her parentcheerfully. "Oh, well!" she said lightly.
"You don't believe it?" demanded the Colonel.
"Strikes never come as often as they are threatened," she replied.
"But this time the stockholders may have something to say."
"They need more votes for that," she answered.
The Colonel looked her over. "Ellis has been telling her what to think,"he concluded. For a moment he entertained the impulse to propose thedinner-party, but Ellis's virtual ordering of him rankled. He went intohis study.
Mather, on his part, took his lunch at another restaurant and then wentdown to Chebasset. He felt somewhat depressed; life was not pleasant,not with the sight of Ellis and the Colonel before his mental vision,nor with the task he had to do. For the returns from the mill wereentirely inadequate, and Jim must be spoken to. Lecturing a sulky boypromised to be unpleasant; besides, Jim would report it to Beth. Matherwould have given a good deal to put the matter off, if only for a day.
But Jim was not at the mill. "He has gone to Stirling, Miss Jenks?"
"Yes, sir, to the city. He had a telephone message from----" Miss Jenkshesitated and stammered.
"Miss Blanchard? Oh, of course." And Mather, amused at the modesty ofthe little stenographer, sat down at Jim's desk, which had once been hisown. "The daily reports, if you please, Miss Jenks." While she went forthem, he stared idly at the decorations by whose means Jim had sought todomesticate himself at the mill: dance cards, an invitation, andphotographs of Beth, Jim's mother, and Mrs. Harmon. Mather frowned atthe presence of the last, in such company.
Armed with the daily reports, Mather went into the mill, and certain ofthe men, at certain of the machines, heard words which were far frompleasing. The words were not many, and were delivered quietly, butbacked by telling figures from the returns they were unanswerable. Itwas a slight relief that so many men were visited in Mather's round, forcompany made the misery a bit lighter, but the foreman trembled for histurn. He took it in the office, alone with Mather and Miss Jenks. Thatduring the summer and fall so many pounds daily had been turned out, andin the winter so many less, was laid before him. The foreman couldsuggest only one excuse.
"Mr. Wayne, sir. The men--some of them don't like him, and some laugh athim."
"You attend to your men, Waller, and Mr. Wayne and I will do our part.Understand, I put the mill in your hands now; Mr. Wayne will attendstrictly to the office. If you bring the men up to the old mark, tendollars more for you in the month. If you don't----" And the managerwaved his hand. Waller, between fear and hope, withdrew to the safe sideof the door, and mopped his brow.
Mather also wiped his forehead; he was glad, after all, that Jim had notbeen there; he would try running the mill on this system, and Beth for awhile, perhaps for good, could be spared unhappiness.
But when, after writing Jim a letter detailing the proposed change, herose from his chair, he found a workman standing by his side. The man,with some appearance of unhappiness, touched his forelock. "Beg pardon,sir, but the missis is sick."
"Your wife? I'm sorry. I suppose you've come for an advance of money."
"No, sir!" and the man showed pride. "I can get along, Mr. Mather, on myregular pay."
"Then what can I do for you?"
"It's this new regulation, sir--fortnightly pay."
"Fortnightly pay!" echoed Mather.
"Yes, sir. It'll be all right usually, Mr. Mather, and none of the mencares much."
There was a tightness in the manager's brain; he put up his hand andstroked his lip. "Let me see, when did the new system begin?"
"Last week, sir. And as I say, I wouldn't care, sir, but just now itcomes so hard that I'm askin'--just as a favour, Mr. Mather--to be paidweekly till the missis is well."
"So!" said Mather, recovering himself.
"I hope it's not too much to ask, sir?"
"No, no," and the manager turned to the safe.
What was he to find--an empty cash drawer? His hand trembled as he swungopen the heavy door; he thought of little Beth. If Jim had been so weak,so ungrateful--it was all right! There lay the rolls of bills!
But not the same; the envelopes had been opened, the money mussed andthen crammed hastily back into the drawer again. Moreover, these werenot the fresh, crisp bills which Pease took pride in sending weekly tothe mill. Mather took the whole drawer to the desk and paid the workman."Make a note, Miss Jenks, that Swinton is to be paid weekly so long ashis wife is ill." The man, thankful, departed; but Mather sat over thecash drawer, sorting the money and counting it. There were many bills ofthe high denominations which never came to the mill, since they would beof little use in paying the men. But it was all there, every cent. Whatwas the meaning of it? And now it was Miss Jenks who stood at Mather'sside, waiting to speak. He thrust the money again into the drawer.
"Miss Jenks?" As she did not speak at once he looked at her face, andasked hastily: "Is anything wrong?"
"I've--I've got to leave here, Mr. Mather."
He rose and put the cash drawer in its place; then he went back to her."This is very astonishing. Why?"
"I must," was all she would say.
"Is it wages? Hours? Are you overworked?" To each question she shook herhead. "I consider you very valuable to us. I have thought of asking youto come to the city office."
She looked up at him eagerly. "Oh, let me come!"
"Then there is some friction here?"
She looked down, blushing. "No friction."
"One question only, Miss Jenks. Is it Mr. Wayne?"
She nodded; Mather took his seat. Then she took a step nearer to him,looking to see if he were angry. "Don't be put out with him. He--I--it'snothing, Mr. Mather."
"So I should suppose," he answered grimly.
"Mr. Mather," she said suddenly, "when I worked for you here I got tothink of you almost as an older brother. Don't be offended." She made alittle gesture of one thin hand. "I have no mother. May I ask you if Iam doing right?"
He was touched, and rose again. "Certainly."
"Mr. Wayne," she began again slowly, "has been very--nice to me. Ididn't think about it; I got to like it very much. Yesterday he--kissedme. Isn't he engaged to Miss Blanchard, sir?"
"He is."
"I thought so; and yet, Mr. Mather, I couldn't be offended. Thisafternoon, when he went away, he came to kiss me again, and I couldn'ttry to stop him. Was it shameful, sir?"
He ground his teeth. "Of him!"
"And he left me this." She opened the hand which she had held tightclosed, and showed a jewelled pin.
Mather took it; it was costly, very handsome. "Well, Miss Jenks?"
"I don't think I'm that kind of a girl, sir. And yet I'm frightened atmyself--for not being able to resist him, I mean. And so I've got to go,sir." Up to this time she had spoken quietly, with little sign ofemotion, but now she clasped her hands together, and tears welled out onher cheeks. "I cannot stay another day!"
He turned away from her, and for a space strode up and down the office,cursing silently. Then he sat and tried to think. Jim, Jim!
"You're not offended, sir?" she asked.
"Offended? You poor little girl, it tears at my heart to see your faceand know what you feel. You're doing just right; yes, just right. Youshall come to me in the city, to-morrow if you wish. I know an old andhomely woman who will be glad of this place."
She shrank at the energy of his sneer. "You won't be
angry with him,sir?"
"Not angry?" he cried, astonished. Then he said quietly, "I shall donothing at once. But there are other considerations as well."
"Others?" she asked fearfully. "He isn't--going wrong, Mr. Mather?"
"What makes you think that?" he demanded.
"Perhaps," she said, "I'd better tell you something, if it will help youhelp him. There's one man--oh, Mr. Mather, I've been so glad of the waythe papers speak of you--if you would only stand for mayor of Stirling,sir! I dislike that Mr. Ellis. And it's he who's been here twice to seeMr. Wayne, and telephoned him this afternoon to come to town."
"Of course you know there's no reason he shouldn't?"
"Only I don't like him, sir. And Mr. Wayne made something of a secret ofit, though he's been talking with me quite freely, lately. But Icouldn't help knowing, and I hope there's nothing wrong." She took astep toward her desk. "If you've got nothing for me to do, sir, I'll gonow. To-morrow at your office, Mr. Mather?"
"To-morrow." He sank so deep in thought that he scarcely heeded hergood-bye, and leaving the pin on Jim's desk she slipped out of theoffice with her hopes, fears, thanks, trembling on her lips but yetunexpressed. She was glad to leave the little office where she had beenso frightened of herself. And since Mather had been always kind, shefelt sure he would be kind to Wayne.
Kind! Mather's fingers itched for Jim's collar. Perhaps he had intendedno harm with the girl, but such things went easily from bad to worse.And what had he been doing with the money? But the only real reason forcomplaint lay in the new system of fortnightly pay. Mather concludedthat he would wait till Saturday; then he would come down, see the menpaid, and have it out with Jim.