Isham Frederic Stewart
Nothing But the Truth

CHAPTER XXIII – MAKING GOOD

Bob sent dad a modest-sized check the next day. “Result of hustling,” he wrote. “Spend freely. There’ll be more coming presently.” Then Bob went down on the narrow road that isn’t straight, but that has a crook in it. He stopped somewhere near the crook, and entering an office greeted a melancholy-looking man who had “bad business” and “country going to pot” written all over his face. The melancholy man was a club acquaintance.

“What’s the most abused and worst thing on the street that isn’t straight?” said Bob debonairly.

“That’s right. Call us names,” replied the melancholy man with a sigh. “Everybody’s doing it.”

“Have you got something so awful people turn their heads away when you speak of it?”

“There’s the Utopian,” observed the other. “Only a buzzard would get near it.”

“Do they call the promoter a thief?”

“They do.”

“And is he crazy?”

“He is. It’s either jail or a lunatic asylum for him.”

Bob handed what was left of the commodore’s check to the melancholy man. “Buy Utopian,” he said.

“All right,” answered the melancholy man listlessly. He was beyond feeling any emotion.

“I believe in Utopian,” observed Bob. “I have here,” touching his forehead, “inside information that it is an excellent little railroad property.”

“Oh, it isn’t a railroad,” said the melancholy man. “It’s – ”

“Don’t tell me what it is,” retorted Bob. “Repeat some of those things the world calls the promoter.”

The melancholy man was obliging.

“Heavens! He must be an awful honest man!” said Bob and started toward the door, where he turned. “Pyramid with the profits.” And Bob walked out.

That afternoon he went to a real-estate man and asked where he could lease a small factory. While at college he had invented a small appliance for automobiles, which he felt sure was good and would commend itself to manufacturers. Bob knew about all there was to know about a car. After he had looked at several old deserted buildings on the outskirts, any one of which might answer his purpose, Bob strolled into a number of automobile agencies near Columbus Square, and showed them his little patent. The men in charge were willing to express an opinion; several appeared interested. Of course, Bob would ultimately have to go to the “higher-ups,” but he wanted first to find out what these practical chaps thought. One of them even asked Bob if he wanted a partner? Bob didn’t. He had all the capital needed, he replied.

He was taking a serious sober view of life now. He felt himself no longer “darn fool Bob,” or careless Bob, or lazy Bob. He might have done something with his little device long ago, but he had forgotten all about it. Its creation had been a passing whim. Bob really had a good head for machinery though, and now he was beginning to feel out his path. He wanted to work hard, too, which was a novel sensation. It felt, also, like a permanent sensation. Meeting several chaps, he refused their invitations to partake of the sparkling, much to their surprise, as heretofore he had been a prince of good fellows. Henceforth, however, he was going to be king of himself.

That night, in the old home, in the old square, Dolly called him up by telephone.

“How could you disappoint me so!” said jolly little pal. “The idea of your just pretending to be a burglar.”

“Me, pretend?” Bob laughed. “I say, that’s good. Didn’t I tell you all along I wasn’t?”

“But why didn’t you make me believe you weren’t?” retorted little pal reproachfully. “To think of your deceiving me like that!”

“Deceive you? That’s good, too. Why, I told you again and again I was just a plain ordinary person. You were just bound to idealize me!”

There was a brief pause. “Are you so disappointed in me, you are going to disown me now?” continued Bob.

“No-a. I’m still your jolly little pal. Only to think though, there never was a chance for those adjoining cells, after all!”

“Well, there seemed a good chance, anyhow.”

“Yes, it was nice and exciting while it lasted.” The temperamental little thing sighed. “It’s awful humdrum up here now.”

Bob didn’t ask any questions about the people up there. “You ought to have fallen in love with the hammer-thrower,” he said. “He was the real thing.”

“I suppose I should have,” she seemed to agree. “Wasn’t I stupid? Never mind. Say something nice.”

“Like you,” said Bob.

“Heaps? I need cheering.”

“Heaps.”

“Much obliged. You’re awfully good. What are you doing this evening?”

“I was sitting by the fire in dad’s old-fashioned den, thinking and dreaming.”

“All alone?”

“Entirely.”

“What were you thinking of?”

“Machinery. And a factory.”

“And will it have a tall chimney that belches smoke?”

“I trust ultimately to attain to the kind of a chimney you refer to. At present, I shall have to content myself with a comparatively insignificant one. I have visions of a chimney four hundred feet high some day.”

“Belching ugly smoke?”

“It won’t look ugly to me. It’ll look blissful.”

The biggest sigh of all quivered from afar. “Another dream shattered! My! but I’m growing up fast. I feel a million years old. Anyhow, I’ll never marry Dickie.”

“Wouldn’t if I were you. He doesn’t fight fair. Before he got through he’d have all your dad’s chimneys, as well as his own, and then he’d put you on an allowance. You’d have to account for every pin and needle you bought.”

“Yes; I know. When I do find the right man I’ll bring him to you and let you pass in judgment. You shall tell me whether I can or can’t.”

“All right – though isn’t that rather a paternal prerogative?”

“Oh, dad always lets me do what I want. You’re the only man that has ever dared oppose me.”

“But suppose I did oppose you in a matter of such importance?”

Miss Dolly thought. “We won’t cross that bridge before we come to it. You said you were thinking and dreaming. I know what you were thinking about. Now, what were you dreaming about all by your lonely, sitting by the fire?”

Bob was glad he didn’t have to blurt out the truth any more. He evaded. “Did I say dreaming?” he asked.

“You did. Was it of some one?”

“Pooh! What nonsense!”

“Oh, it isn’t nonsense to do that.”

“I was only thinking of chimneys and things like that,” returned Bob. That was an out-and-outer. He shuddered to think of the answer he would have had to make a few days ago.

“Never mind,” said the jolly little pal. “You needn’t tell me. There are some things we keep locked up, forever and ever, in the inner sanctums of our hearts, aren’t there?” Sadly. “And we die and they are buried with us. Oh, dear! I’m beginning to feel dreadful. Only jolly little pal is awfully sorry.” For him, she meant. Bob winced. “I hate to think of you sitting there, poor dear, all alone, and – and – ”

“I’m having a bully time – honest,” said Bob. “I really am. I’m planning out my future. I’m going to do something. I’m tired of being nothing. I’ll work right with the workmen at first.”

“And you will be all perspirey and covered with soot?” In horror.

“I’ll be worse than that. I’ll be sweaty and covered with soot,” said Bob practically.

Dolly groaned. “It seems to me as if everything is upside down.”

“No. Downside down. ‘Life is real; life is earnest,’” he quoted, laughing.

“Oh, dear! That solemn sound! I can tell you are terribly determined.” He did not answer. “Well, good-by, great, big, perspirey – I mean sweaty, sooty old pal!”

“Good-by, Dolly. And thank you for calling me up. It did me good to hear little pal’s voice. Wish me luck.”

“I’ll send you a horseshoe to-morrow,” she laughed. And then suddenly, as an afterthought – “By the way, I have a ’fession to make.”

“All right. ’Fess ahead.”

“Well, I don’t suppose I really and truly – deep down, you know – actually ever did quite think you were a regular burglar. I guess it was the dramatic situation that appealed to me. I’ve often thought I had ‘histrionic ability’ and you did make such a big, bold, handsome, darling make-believe burglar to play with, I just couldn’t resist.”

“I understand!” said Bob. “I guess – deep down – I guessed as much.” And rang off.

Bob went back to the fireplace. Was he dreaming now or only thinking? Dolly’s voice had taken him back to Mrs. Ralston’s, and the coals now framed a face. He looked quickly from them, his eyes following the smoke of his pipe. But the smoke now framed the face. Bob half-closed his eyes an instant, then resolutely he laid down his pipe and went to bed. Dad had closed the rather spacious old-fashioned house when he went away, and a momentary feeling of loneliness assailed Bob, as he realized there was no other person in the place, but he fought it down. Work was his incentive now – hard work —

The next day he learned they had lodged the promoter in jail. The big men had gone gunning for him, and, as usual, they got him. They got the “Utopian,” too. They took that because there wasn’t anything else to take. Incidentally, they discredited the broker’s statement that no one but a buzzard would go near it. Or, maybe, some of the big men were buzzards in disguise. Anyhow, they had the Utopian on their hands, and after they had settled with the promoter who had dared cross the trail of the big interests in his operations, they poked their fingers into Utopian and prodded it and examined it more carefully and discovered that with “honest judicial management” and a proper application of more funds that which had been but an odorous prospect might be converted into a “property.” The promoter had taken funds which he shouldn’t so he was out of their way, until he got pardoned.

The Utopian accordingly now began to soar. There were plenty of people who would sniff at it in its new aspect, and take a bite, too. A shoal of speculators wanted to get aboard. That “honest management” was a bait; that “property” probability became a “sure thing.” Big names were juggled in little offices. The usual thing happened – just one of those common occurrences hardly worth describing – only later it would probably be included in a congressional investigation and there would be a few reverberations at Albany. Bob pulled out in about two days.

“How’d you know?” said the broker.

“Fellow feeling. Been called a thief and a crazy man, myself.”

“What you want to buy now? The next rankest thing I know of is – ”

Bob shook his head. “Never again. Good-by forever.”

“Good-by,” said the melancholy man. He thought he would see Bob down there again some day, but he never did. Bob went to a bank and opened an account. He wasn’t exactly rich but he had a nice comfortable feeling. Moreover he expected to build solidly. He leased the factory and then he went to work. Dad came home. He didn’t seem much interested in what Bob was doing. He loafed around and told fish stories. Bob got up about five a.m. but dad didn’t arise until nine. Sometimes he had his breakfast in bed and had his man bring him the newspaper. Bob didn’t have a man, though he soon began to prosper. The device was considered necessary in the trade; it proved practical.

Bob added to his factory and built a fair-sized chimney. Dreamily he wondered if it would realize jolly little chum’s idea of a chimney. He had to cut out all the social functions now for he was so tired when he got home he wanted only his dinner and his pipe and bed. Dad, however, stayed out late. He remarked once he thought he would learn to tango. Bob never knew though whether he carried out the idea or not.

The newspapers, a few months later, apprised Bob that Gee-gee had landed the grand duke. A snapshot revealed him imbibing from Gee-gee’s Cinderella slipper. Possibly the grand duke was enraged over the snap-shot. More likely, however, he didn’t care; he was so high up he could do anything and snap his fingers at the world. Bob permitted himself a little recreation; out of mild curiosity, he went to see Gee-gee. She now had a fair-sized part and was talked about. Incidentally, she had acquired a few additional wriggles.

His Vivacious Highness sat in a box and Gee-gee wriggled mostly for him. She hardly looked at the audience, but the audience didn’t act offended. It applauded. Gee-gee’s dream had come true. She was a star. And to her credit she reached out a helping hand to Gid-up. The latter now said more than “Send for the doctor.” She had eight lines – which was certainly getting on some. Bob, however, didn’t notice Dan or Clarence in the audience. They were probably billing and cooing at home now. Only grand dukes can afford to toy with Gee-gees. Bob didn’t stay to see and hear it all for a little of Gee-gee went a long way, and besides, he had to get up early. Dad though, who accompanied Bob, said he would stay right through.

Once on Fifth Avenue, Bob passed Miss Gerald; she was just getting out of her car. An awful temptation seized him to stop, but he managed to suppress it, for he had himself fairly in hand by this time. He saw they would almost meet, but there were many people and, in the press, he didn’t have to see her. So he didn’t. He felt sure she would cut him if he did. It was the first foolish thing he had done for some time; he realized that when he got away. But what was he to do? He objected to being cut, and by her, of all persons. He regretted the incident very much. It hurt his pride and, of course, he had earned her dislike.

Bob hied him factoryward and toiled mightily that day. It was work – work – though to what end? If he only knew! He had tried to tell himself that he was learning to forget, that he was becoming reconciled to the inevitable, but that quick glimpse he had caught of her from a distance, before he drifted by with the others, had set his pulses tingling. For a moment now Bob gave way to dreaming; the day was almost done. He sat with his head on his hand and his elbow on the desk. He had shown he was more than a dancing man. He would now have to fight an even harder battle. He would have to take her out of his heart and mind.

But he couldn’t do that. It was impossible, when his whole nature clamored for her. He yielded now to the dubious luxury of thinking of her. He hoped he wouldn’t see her again and then gradually he would win in that fight against nature – or do his best to. Yes; he must do his best; he must, he repeated to himself, closing a firm hand resolutely. Then he started and stared – at a vision standing before him.

“Why did you cut me to-day?”

CHAPTER XXIV – AT THE PORTALS

It was some time before Bob recovered sufficiently to answer. Fortunately they were alone in Bob’s private office. From below came the sound of hammers, but that and the dingy surroundings did not seem to disconcert her. She looked at Bob coldly, the violet eyes full of directness.

“I – well, I feared you would cut me,” stammered Bob. “Won’t – won’t you sit down?”

“No, thank you. At least, not yet. I,” accusingly, “am not accustomed to being cut, and if any of my friends cut me, I want to know why. That’s why I am here.”

She was her father’s daughter at that moment – straight, forceful.

“But,” said Bob eagerly, looking once more the way he used to, before he had got into this sobering business of manufacturer, “that’s just the point. You see I felt I had somehow forfeited my right to be one of your friends. I felt out of the pale.”

“Do you think you deserve to forfeit the right?”

“I – perhaps. I don’t know. I’m very confused about all that happened at your aunt’s place.”

Was that the shadow of a smile on the proud lips? Bob wasn’t looking at her. He dared not. He was talking to a drawing of his device.

“Perhaps you have heard of that confounded wager,” he went on. “I told you why I – I didn’t want to see you. At least, I think I did.”

“I have a vague impression of something of the kind,” said the girl.

“And there you are,” observed Bob helplessly. “It was an awful muddle, all right. You certainly punished me some, though. Honestly, if I offended you, you did get back good and hard.”

“Did I?” said she tentatively. “Is that a drawing of it on the wall?” She was looking at the device.

“Yes. That’s what I make.”

“Won’t you show me around?”

Bob did, walking as in a dream among the dingy workmen who paused as the vision passed. For a long time they talked – just plain ordinary talk. Then he told her how he was inventing something else and Miss Gerald listened while all differences seemed magically to have dropped between them. Drinking deep of the joy of the moment, Bob yielded to the unadulterated happiness that went with being near her. He forgot all about the long future when he would see her no more.

Finally Miss Gerald got up to go. They had returned to Bob’s office and she had seated herself in a shabby old chair.

Bob’s face fell. His heart had been beating fast and the old light had come to his eyes.

“Going?” he said awkwardly.

“Yes.”

She put out her hand and Bob took it, looking into her eyes. Then – he never knew how it happened – he had her in his arms. Bang! bang! went Bob’s hammers below and they seemed to be competing with the beating of his heart. At length the girl stirred slightly. She was wonderful in her proud compliance to Bob’s somewhat chaotic and over-powering expression of his emotions. “I suffered, too, a little, perhaps,” she said.

That nearly completed Bob’s undoing. “You! you!” he said, holding her from him and regarding her face eagerly, devouringly.

“Yes,” the proud lips curled a little, “I haven’t really a heart of stone, you know.”

Then Bob became chaotic once more for it was as if heaven had been hurled at him. He spoke burning words of truth and this time they did not get him into trouble. She drank them all in, too. Then he began to ask questions in that same chaotic manner. He was so masterful she had to answer.

“Yes, yes,” she said, “of course, I do.”

“When did it begin?”

“A long, long time ago.”

“You have loved me a long time?” he exulted and drew a deep breath. “A moment ago I was pondering on the problems of life and wondering what was the use of it all? Now – ” He paused.

“Now?” said the girl and her eyes were direct and clear. The love light in them – for it was that – shone as the light of stars.

Bob threw out his arms. “Life is great,” he said.

A moment they stood apart and looked at each other. “It can’t be,” said Bob. “It is too much to believe. I certainly must prove it once more.”

“One moment,” said Miss Gerald. “Dolly told me you kissed her.”

“I did.”

“Why, if as you say, it was only I – ?”

Bob was silent.

“Did – did she ask you to?”

Bob did not answer.

“You don’t answer?” The violet eyes studied him discerningly.

“All I can say is I did kiss her.” He would not betray jolly little pal.

The violet eyes looked satisfied. “You have answered,” she said. “I think I understand the situation thoroughly.”

Bob impetuously wanted to demonstrate once more that she was really she – that it wasn’t a dream – but she held him back and looked into his eyes. “You’ve said a good many things,” said Miss Gerald. “But there’s one you haven’t.”

“What?”

“It’s one you really ought to ask, after all this demonstration.”

“Oh!” said Bob loudly. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she answered. And for the first time voluntarily offered him her lips.

Suddenly the sound of hammers stopped.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Closing time. May I see you to your car?”

“Yes,” she laughed, “if you will get in.”

“I’ll get in if you won’t be ashamed of having a rather dingy-looking individual by your side?”

“I’m proud of you, Bob,” said her father’s daughter. “And I believe in you.”

“And – ?” he suggested.

“I love you,” she said simply.

Bob tried to say something, but words didn’t seem to come. Then silently he opened the door and they passed out. He helped her in the car and held a small gloved hand all the way down Fifth Avenue. Young people who can be cruel are, also, capable of going to the other extreme. It wasn’t Fifth Avenue for Bob. It was Paradise.

Dad heard the news that night. “Of course,” he said. “I expected it.” Then, with a twinkle of the eye. “But I’m glad you got started in life for yourself first, son. I was afraid you would ask her before you had the right.”

“You afraid? Then you did suggest my doing it, just to try me, to see what kind of stuff I was made of? I thought so. I told her so.” Bob’s eyes now began to twinkle. “Sure that’s all you did, dad, to find out if I was a real man or a sawdust one?”

“Perhaps I did misrepresent slightly the state of the parental exchequer. As a matter of fact, I’m still pretty well off, Bob. Though they did bounce me a little, I was not so much ruined as I let people think. I didn’t deny those bankruptcy stories, because I wanted you to make good, dear boy. And you have!” There was pride and affection in dad’s tones. “But now that you have, there will be no further need to continue that Japanese custom. I have ample for my simple needs and a little left over to go fishing with.”

Bob might have protested, but just at that moment a car swung in front of the house, where it stopped. On the back seat sat a lady. The driver got out and started up the steps to dad’s house. By this time Bob was coming down the steps. He hastened to the lady.

“So good of you!” he said, his eyes alight. “I ordered to-day that car of my own,” he added, leaning over the door.

“Are you sure you can afford it yet?” she laughed.

“Sure. And it will be a beauty. As fit for you as any car could be!”

“Are you going like that – hatless?” she asked.

“I – well, I was wondering if I couldn’t induce you to come in for a moment?” Eagerly. “Want you to meet dad. Or shall I bring him out here?”

“I’ll go in, of course,” she said, rising at once. “And I shall be very glad.”

“He – he was only trying me out, after all,” spoke Bob as he opened the door of the car. “That advice, I mean. You remember? And he pretended to be broke, too, just to test me. He told me just now.”

“I think I shall like your father,” said Miss Gerald.

“Oh, we’re bully chums!”

By this time they were in the house. Bob took her by the hand and led her to dad.

“I remember your mother and I knew your father,” said dad, when Bob had presented him. “Your mother was very beautiful.”

Gwendoline thanked him, while Bob gazed upon her with adoring eyes.

“Isn’t she wonderful, dad?” he said.

“Wonderful, indeed,” said dad fondly, a little sadly. Perhaps he was thinking of the time when his own bride had stood right there, in the home he had bought for her. Perhaps he saw her eyes with the light of love in them – eyes long since closed. “I trust you will not think me trite if I say, God bless you,” murmured dad.

“I won’t think you trite at all,” said Gwendoline Gerald, approaching nearer to dad. “I think it very nice.”

“And would you think me trite if I – ?”

Dad’s meaning was apparent for Gwendoline’s golden head bent toward him and dad’s lips just brushed the fair brow.

“I’m very glad. I think Bob will make a good husband. He will have to set himself a high mark though, to deserve you, my dear.”

“That’s just what I keep telling her myself,” observed Bob. He experienced anew a touch of that chaotic feeling but didn’t give way to it on account of dad’s being there.

“Don’t set the mark too high, or you may leave me far behind,” laughed Gwendoline Gerald. “By the way I’ve asked Dolly to be first bridesmaid and she has consented. Said she supposed that was the ‘next best thing,’ though I can’t imagine what she meant.”

“That’s jolly,” said Bob. He thrilled at these little delicious details of the approaching event. “But I suppose we should be going now.”

“Is it the opera?” asked dad.

Bob answered that it was. “She insisted on coming for me in her car,” he laughed. “Would have had one myself now if I had imagined anything like this. It was rather sudden, you know.”

“It looks as if I made him do it,” said the girl with a laugh. “I went right to his office, and that, after his refusing me once, when I proposed to him.”

“Did you do that, Bob?”

“Well, I didn’t believe she meant it. Did you?” To Miss Gerald.

“That’s telling,” said Gwendoline, and looked so inviting in that wonderful opera costume, so white and tall and alluring, so many other things calculated to fire a young man’s soul, that Bob had difficulty not to resort to extreme masculine measures to make her tell.

“Hope you have a pleasant evening,” observed dad politely as they went out together, a couple the neighbors might well find excuse to stare at.

“Oh, I guess we’ll manage to pull through,” said Bob.

Their first evening out all alone by themselves in great, big gay New York! It was nice and shadowy, too, in the big limousine where the dim light spiritualized the girl’s beauty.

“Tell now,” he urged, “what I asked you in there?”

“Did I mean it?” Her starry eyes met his. “Perhaps a little bit. But I’m glad you didn’t accept. I’m glad it came out the other way,” she laughed.

Bob forgot there was a possibility of some one peering in and seeing them. Those laughing lips were such a tremendous lure. Then they both sat very still. Wheels sang around them; there was magic in the air.

“Just think of it!” said Bob with sudden new elation.

“What?”

“Why, there’ll be nights and nights like this,” he said, as if he had made an important new discovery.

“And ‘then some’!” added the classical young goddess non-classically and gaily, as they turned into the Great White Way.

THE END