CHAPTER XVII
WARRY'S REPENTANCE
Saxton dined alone at the Clarkson Club, as he usually did, and wentafterward to his office, which he still maintained in the ClarksonNational Building. He had been studying the report of an engineeringexpert on a Colorado irrigation scheme and he was trying to master andcorrect its weaknesses. As he hung over the blue-prints and the pages offigures that lay before him, the flashing red wheels of Mabel Margrave'strap kept interfering; he wished Warry had not turned up just as he had.He thought he understood why his friend had been so occupied in hisoffice of late; but whether Warry and Evelyn Porter were engaged or not,Warry ought to find better use for his talents than in amusing MabelMargrave. John lighted his pipe to help with the blue-prints, and whilehe drew it into cozy accord with himself, the elevator outsidedischarged a passenger; he heard the click of the wire door as the cagereceded, followed by Raridan's quick step in the hall, and Warry brokein on him. "Well, you're the limit! I'd like to know what you mean byroosting up here and not staying in your room where a white man can findyou." He stood with his hands thrust into the pockets of his top-coat,and glared at Saxton, who lay back in his chair and bit his pipe. "Iwish by all the gods I could rattle you once and shake you out of yourdamned Harvard aplomb!" Raridan did not usually invoke the gods, and herarely damned anything or anybody.
"That's a very pretty coat you have on, Mr. Raridan. It must be nice tobe a plutocrat and wear clothes like that."
"The beastly thing doesn't fit," growled Raridan, throwing himself intoa chair. "I don't fit, and my clothes don't fit, and--"
"And you're having a fit. You'd better see a nerve specialist." Warrywas pounding a cigarette on the back of his case.
"I say, Saxton," he said calmly.
"Well! Has Vesuvius subsided?" Saxton sat up in his chair and watchedRaridan breaking matches wastefully in a nervous effort to strike alight.
"John Saxton, what a beastly ass I am! What a merry-go-round of a fool Imake of myself!" Warry blew a cloud of smoke into the air.
"Yes," said John, pulling away at his pipe.
"As I'm a living man, I had no more intention of driving with that girlthan I had of going up in a balloon and walking back. You know I neverknew her well; I don't want to know her, for that matter; not on yourlife!"
"Is this a guessing contest? I suppose I'm the goat. Well, you didn'tcare for Miss Margrave's society; is that what you're driving at? Sheshan't hear this from me; I'm as safe as a tomb. Moreover, I don't enjoyher acquaintance. Go ahead now, full speed."
"And it was just my infernal hard luck that I got caught thisafternoon," continued Warry, ignoring him. "Sometimes it seems to methat I'm predestined and foreordained to do fool things. I've beenworking like blue blazes on that washerwoman's suit against theTranscontinental,--running their switch through her back yard,--and Ihad put away all kinds of temptation and was feeling particularlyvirtuous; but here came the Margrave nigger with that girl's note, and Iwent up the street in long jumps to meet her, and let her drive me allover town and all over the country, and order me a highball on theCountry Club porch, and generally make an ass of me. I wish you'd dosomething to me; hit me with a club, or throw me down the elevator, ordo something equally brutal and coarse that would jar a little of thefolly out of me. Why," he continued, with utter self-contempt, throughwhich his humor glimmered, "I ought to have turned down Mabel'sinvitation as soon as I saw the monogram on her note paper. Threecolors, and letters as big as your hand! My instinctive good tastefalters, old man; it needs restoring and chastening."
"I quite agree with you, sir. But it's more gallant to abuse yourselfthan Miss Margrave's stationery--that is, if I am correctly gathering upthe crumbs of your thought. I believe you had reached the highballincident in your recital. Was it rye or Scotch? This is the day ofrealism, and if I'm to give you counsel, or sympathy, or whatever it isyou want, I must know all the petty details."
"Don't be foolish," said Raridan, staring abstractedly; then he bent hiseyes sharply on Saxton.
"See here, John," he said quietly, folding his arms. He had neverbefore called Saxton by his first name; and the change marked a furtheradvance of intimacy.
"Yes."
"You know I'm a good deal of a fool and all that sort of thing--"
"Chuck that and go ahead."
"But she means a whole lot to me. You know whom I mean." Saxton knew hedid not mean Mabel Margrave. "You know," Raridan went on, "we were kidstogether up there on those hills. We both had our dancing lessons at herhouse, and did such stunts as that together."
"Yes," said Saxton.
"I want to work and show that I'm some good. I want to make myselfworthy of her." He got up and walked the floor, while Saxton sat andwatched him.
"I can't talk about it; you understand what I want to do. It has seemedto me lately that I have more to overcome than I can ever manage. I madea lot of fuss about that Knights of Midas rot. I ought to have helpedher about that; it was hard for her, but I was too big a fool to knowit, and I made myself ridiculous lecturing her. I forgot that she'dgrown up, and I didn't know she felt as she did about it. I acted as ifI thought she was crazy to pose in that fool show, when I might haveknown better. It was downright low of me." He stood at the windowplaying with the cord of the shade and looking out over the town. Saxtonwalked to the window and stood by him, saying nothing; and after amoment he put his hand on Raridan's shoulder and turned him round andgrasped Warry's slender fingers in his broad, strong hand.
"I understand how it is, old man. It isn't so bad as you think it is,I'm sure. It will all come out right, and while we're making confessionsI want to make one too. I feel rather foolish doing it--as if I were inthe game--" and he smiled in the way he had, which brought his humilityand patience and desire to be on good terms with the world into hisface,--"but I want you to know about this afternoon--that--that justhappened--my being with her. You see, I didn't know she was there, andshe had--I guess she had broken her driver or something, and quit, and Iwas coming in and she picked me up, and I'm sorry, and--"
Raridan wheeled on him as if he had just caught the drift of his talk.
"Oh, come off! You howling idiot! Don't you talk that way to me again.Get your hat now and let's get out of this."
"I'm glad you're feeling better," said Saxton, and laughed with realrelief.
John turned out the light, and while they waited for the elevator tocome up for them Warry jingled the coins and keys in his pockets beforehe blurted:
"I say, John, I'm an underbred, low person, and am not worthy to becalled thy friend, and you may hate me all you like, but one thing I'dlike to know. Did she say anything about me when you passed us thisafternoon--make any comment or anything? You know I despise myself forasking, but--"
Saxton laughed quietly.
"Yes, she did; but I don't know that I ought to tell you. It was reallyencouraging."
"Well, hurry up."
"She said, 'Miss Margrave has a lot of style; don't you think so?'"
"Is that all?" demanded Raridan, stepping into the car.
"That's all. It wasn't very much; but it was the way she said it; and asshe said it she brushed a fly from the horse with the whip, and she didit very carefully."
In the corridor below they met Wheaton coming out of the side door ofthe bank. He had been at work, he said. Raridan asked him to go withthem to the club for a game of billiards, but he pleaded weariness andsaid he was going to bed.
The three men walked up Varney Street together. Those spirits that orderour lives for us must have viewed them with interest as they trampedthrough the street. They were men of widely different antecedents andqualities. Circumstances, in themselves natural and harmless, hadbrought them together. The lives of all three were to be influenced bythe weakness of one, and one woman's life was to be profoundly affectedby contact with all of them. It is not ordained for us to know whetherthose we touch hands with, and even break bread with, from day to day,are to bring us good
or evil. The electric light reveals nothing in thesibyl's book which was not disclosed of old to those who pondered themysteries by starlight and rushlight.
Wheaton left them at the club door and went on to The Bachelors',which, was only a step farther up the street.
"How do you like Wheaton by this time?" asked Raridan, as they enteredthe club.
"I hardly know how to answer that," Saxton answered. "He's treated mewell enough. It seems to me I'm always trying to find some reason fornot liking him, but I can't put my hand on anything tangible."
"That's the way I feel," said Raridan, hanging up his coat in thebilliard room. "He's a rigid devil, some way. There's no let-go in him.I guess the law allows us to dislike some people just on generalprinciples, and Jim likes himself so well that you and I don't matter.It's your shot."