The morning of the third day after the failure of the search, and of thesixth since McCarthy's disappearance, had arrived. During that time PercyDarrow, apparently insensible to fatigue, had maintained an almostsleepless vigil. His meals Jack Warford brought in to him; he dozed in hischair or on the couch. Never did he appear to do anything.
The very persistent quietude of the man ended by making its impression. Toall questions, however, Darrow returned but the one reply, deliveredalways in a voice full of raillery:
"I couldn't bear to miss a single step of Eldridge's masterly work."
About half past nine of the morning in question, through the door to thewireless office, always half opened, somebody looked hesitatingly into theroom. Instantly Darrow and Jack were on their feet and in the hallway.
"Helen!" cried Jack.
"What is it? Anything happened?" demanded Darrow.
She surveyed them both amusedly.
"You certainly look like a frowzy tramp, Jack," she told her brotherjudiciously, "and you need sleep," she informed Darrow.
The young scientist bowed ironically, his long lashes drooping over hiseyes in his accustomed lazy fashion as he realized that the occasion wasnot urgent. Helen turned directly to him.
"When are you going to stop this?" she demanded.
Darrow raised his eyebrows.
"You needn't look at me like that. You said you could lay your hands onMonsieur X at any moment; why don't you do it?"
"Eldridge is too amusing."
"Too amusing!" echoed the girl. "All you think of is yourself."
"Is it?" drawled Darrow.
"Have you been out in the city? Have you seen the people? Have you seenmen out of work? Families leaving their homes? Panic spreading slowly butsurely over a whole city?"
"Those pleasures have been denied me," said Darrow blandly.
The girl looked at him with bright angry eyes. Her cheeks were glowing,and her whole figure expressed a tense vibrant life in singular contrastto the apparent indolence of the men at whom she was talking.
"You are insufferable!" She fairly stamped her foot in vexation. "You arean egoist! You would play with the welfare of four million people togratify your little personal desire for getting even!"
"Steady, sis!" warned Jack.
Darrow had straightened, and his indolent manner had fallen from him.
"I have said I would permit no harm to come to these people, and I meanit," said he.
"No harm!" cried Helen. "What do you call this--"
Darrow turned to the window looking out over the city.
"This!" he said. "Why, this isn't harm! There isn't a man out there who isnot better off for what has happened to him. He has lost a little time, alittle money, a little sleep, and he has been given a new point of view, anew manhood. As a city dweller he was becoming a mollusk, a creature thatcould not exist without its shell. The city transported him, warmed him,fed him, amused him, protected him. He had nothing to do with it in anyway; he didn't even know how it was done. Deprived of his push-buttons, hewas as helpless as a baby. Beyond the little stunt he did in his office orhis store, and beyond the ability to cross a crowded street, he was nogood. He not only didn't know how to do things, but he was rapidly losing,through disuse, the power to learn how to do things. The modern citydweller, bred, born, brought up on this island, is about as helpless anduseless a man, considered as a four-square, self-reliant individual, asyou can find on the broad expanse of the globe. I've got no use for a manwho can't take care of himself, who's got to have somebody else to do itfor him, whenever something to which he hasn't been accustomed rises up infront of him!"
His eye was fixed somberly on the city stretching away into the haze ofthe autumn day.
"You blame me for letting this thing run!" he went on. "Of course ittickles me to death to see Eldridge flounder; but that isn't all. This isthe best thing that could happen to them out there! I'm just patrioticenough to wish them more of it. It's good medicine! At last every man jackof them is up against something he's got to decide for himself. The policeare useless; the fire department is useless; the railroads and street-carsare crippled. If a man is going to take care of his life and property, hemust do it himself. He's buying back his self-reliance. Self-reliance is avaluable property. He ought to pay something for it. Generally he has topay war or insurrection or bloody riot. In the present instance he'sgetting off cheap."
He turned back from the open window. His eye traveled beyond Helen's trimfigure down the empty hall. "Wait right here, Jack," he shot over hisshoulder, and rushed along the hall and down the stairway before eitherthe young man or his sister could recover from their astonishment.