_ CHAPTER III. Reminiscentially Autobiographical
This Jimmie Elkins was several years older than I; but that did not prevent us, as boys, from being fast friends. At seventeen he had a coterie of followers among the smaller fry of ten and twelve, his tastes clinging long to the things of boyhood. He and I played together, after the darkening of his lip suggested the razor, and when the youths of his age were most of them acquiring top buggies, and thinking of the long Sunday-night drives with their girls. Jim preferred the boys, and the trade of the fisher and huntsman.
Why, in spite of parental opposition, I loved Jimmie, is not hard to guess. He had an odd and freakish humor, and talked more of Indian-fighting, filibustering in gold-bearing regions, and of moving accidents by flood and field, than of crops, live-stock, or bowery dances. He liked me just as did the older men who sent me to the National Convention,--in spite of my youth. He was a ne'er-do-weel, said my father, but I snared gophers and hunted and fished with him, and we loved each other as brothers seldom do.
At last, I began teaching school, and working my way to a better education than our local standard accepted as either useful or necessary, and Jim and I drifted apart. He had always kept up a voluminous correspondence with that class of advertisers whose black-letter "Agents Wanted" is so attractive to the farmer-boy; and he was usually agent for some of their wares. Finally, I heard of him as a canvasser for a book sold by subscription,--a "Veterinarians' Guide," I believe it was,--and report said that he was "making money." Again I learned that he had established a publishing business of some kind; and, later, that reverses had forced him to discontinue it,--the old farmer who told me said he had "failed up." Then I heard no more of him until that night of the convention, when I had the adventure with the Empress and Sir John, all unknown to them; and Jim made the ineffectual attempt to find me. His family had left the old neighborhood, and so had mine; and the chances of our ever meeting seemed very slight. In fact it was some years later and after many of the brave dreams of the youthful publicist had passed away, that I casually stumbled upon him in the smoking-room of a parlor-car, coming out of Chicago.
I did not know him at first. He came forward, and, extending his hand, said, "How are you, Al?" and paused, holding the hand I gave him, evidently expecting to enjoy a period of perplexity on my part. But with one good look in his eyes I knew him. I made him sit down by me, and for half an hour we were too much engrossed in reminiscences to ask after such small matters as business, residence, and general welfare.
"Where all have you been, Jim, and what have you been doing, since you followed off the 'Veterinarians' Guide,' and I lost you?" I inquired at last.
"I've been everywhere, and I've done everything, almost," said he. "Put it in the 'negative case,' and my history'll be briefer."
"I should regard organizing a flambeau brigade," said I, "as about the last thing you would engage in."
"Ah!" he replied, "His Whiskers at the hotel told you I called that time, did he? Well, I didn't think he had the sense. And I doubted the memory on your part, and I wasn't at all sure you were the real Barslow. But about the flambeaux. The fact is, I had some stock in the flambeau factory, and I was a rabid partisan of flambeaux. They seemed so patriotic, you know, so sort of ennobling, and so convincing, as to the merits of the tariff controversy!"
It was the same old Jim, I thought.
"We used to have a scheme," I remarked, "our favorite one, of occupying an island in the Pacific,--or was it somewhere in the vicinity of the Spanish Main--"
"If it was the place where we were to make slaves of all the natives, and I was to be king, and you Grand Vizier," he answered, as if it were a weighty matter, and he on the witness-stand, "it was in the Pacific--the South Pacific, where the whale-oil comes from. A coral atoll, with a crystal lagoon in the middle for our ships, and a fringe of palms along the margin--coco-palms, you remember; and the lagoon was green, sometimes, and sometimes blue; and the sharks never came over the bar, but the porpoises came in and played for us, and made fireworks in the phosphorescent waves...."
His eyes grew almost tender, as he gazed out of the window, and ceased to speak without finishing the sentence,--which it took me some minutes to follow out to the end, in my mind. I was delighted and touched to find these foolish things so green in his memory.
"The plan involved," said I soberly, "capturing a Spanish galleon filled with treasure, finding two lovely ladies in the cabin, and offering them their liberty. And we sailed with them for a port; and, as I remember it, their tears at parting conquered us, and we married them; and lived richer than oil magnates, and grander than Monte Cristos forever after: do you remember?"
"Remember! Well, I should smile!"--he had been laughing like a boy, with his old frank laugh. "Them's the things we don't forget.... Did you ever gather any information as to what a galleon really was? I never did."
"I had no more idea than I now have of the Rosicrucian Mysteries; and I must confess," said I, "that I'm a little hazy on the galleon question yet. As to piracy, now, and robbers and robbery, actual life fills out the gaps in the imagination of boyhood, doesn't it, Jim?"
"Apt to," he assented, "but specifically? As to which, you know?"
"Well, I've had my share of experience with them," I answered, "though not so much in the line of rob-or, as we planned, but more as rob-ee."
Jim looked at me quizzically.
"Board of Trade, faro, or ... what?" he ventured.
"General business," I responded, "and ... politics."
"Local, state, or national?" he went on, craftily ignoring the general business.
"A little national, some state, but the bulk of it local. I've been elected County Treasurer, down where I live, for four successive terms."
"Good for you!" he responded. "But I don't see how that can be made to harmonize with your remark about rob-or and rob-ee. It's been your own fault, if you haven't been on the profitable side of the game, with the dear people on the other. And I judge from your looks that you eat three meals a day, right along, anyhow. Come, now, b'lay this rob-ee business (as Sir Henry Morgan used to say) till you get back to Buncombe County. As a former partner in crime, I won't squeal; and the next election is some ways off, anyhow. No concealment among pals, now, Al, it's no fair, you know, and it destroys confidence and breeds discord. Many a good, honest, piratical enterprise has been busted up by concealment and lack of confidence. Always trust your fellow pirates,--especially in things they know all about by extrinsic evidence,--and keep concealment for the great world of the unsophisticated and gullible, and to catch the sucker vote with. But among ourselves, my beloved, fidelity to truth, and openness of heart is the first rule, right out of Hoyle. With dry powder, mutual confidence, and sharp cutlasses, we are invincible; and as the poet saith,
"'Far as the tum-te-tum the billows foam
Survey our empire and behold our home,'
or words to that effect. And to think of your trying to deceive me, your former chieftain, who doesn't even vote in your county or state, and moreover always forgets election! Rob-ee indeed! rats! Al, I'm ashamed of you, by George, I am!"
This speech he delivered with a ridiculous imitation of the tricks of the elocutionist. It was worthy of the burlesque stage. The conductor, passing through, was attracted by it, and notified us that the solitude of the smoking-room had been invaded, by a slight burst of applause at Jim's peroration, followed by the vanishing of the audience.
"No need for any further concealment on my part, so far as elections are concerned," said I, when we had finished our laugh, "for I go out of office January first, next."
"Oh, well, that accounts for it, then," said he. "I notice, say, three kinds of retirement from office: voluntary (very rare), post-convention, and post-election. Which is yours?"
"Post-convention, I'm sorry to say. I wish it had been voluntary."
"It
is the cheapest; but you're in great luck not to get licked at the polls. Altogether, you're in great luck. You've been betting on a game in which the percentage is mighty big in favor of the house, and you've won three or four consecutive turns out of the box. You've got no kick coming: you're in big luck. Don't you know you are?"
I did not feel called upon to commit myself; and we smoked on for some time in silence.
"It strikes me, Jim," said I, at last, "that you've done all the cross-examination, and that it is time to listen to your report. How about you and your conduct?"
"As for my conduct," was the prompt answer, "it's away up in the neighborhood of G. I've managed to hold the confounded world up for a living, ever since I left Pleasant Valley Township. Some of the time the picking has been better than at others; but my periods of starvation have been brief. By practicing on the 'Veterinarians' Guide' and other similar fakes, I learned how to talk to people so as to make them believe what I said about things, with the result, usually, of wooing the shrinking and cloistered dollar from its lair. When a fellow gets this trick down fine, he can always find a market for his services. I handled hotel registers, city directories, and like literature, including county histories--"
"Sh-h-h!" said I, "somebody might hear you."
"--and at last, after a conference with my present employers, the error of my way presented itself to me, and I felt called to a higher and holier profession. I yielded to my good angel, turned my better nature loose, and became a missionary."
"A what!" I exclaimed.
"A missionary," he responded soberly. "That is, you understand, not one of these theological, India's-coral-strand guys; but one who goes about the United States of America in a modest and unassuming way, doing good so far as in him lies."
"I see," said I, punning horribly, "'in him lies.'"
"Eh?... Yes. Have another cigar. Well, now, you can't defend this foreign-mission business to me for a minute. The hills, right in this vicinity, are even now white to the harvest. Folks here want the light just as bad as the foreign heathen; and so I took up my burden, and went out to disseminate truth, as the soliciting agent of the Frugality and Indemnity Life Association, which presented itself to me as the capacity in which I could best combine repentance with its fruits."
"I perceive," said I.
"Perfectly plain, isn't it, to the seeing eye?" he went on. "You see it was like this: Charley Harper and I had been together in the Garden City Land Company, years ago, during the boom--by the way, I didn't mention that in my report, did I? Well, of course, that company went up just as they all did, and neither Charley nor I got to be receiver, as we'd sort of laid out to do, and we separated. I went back to my literature--hotel registers, with an advertising scheme, with headquarters at Cleveland. That's how I happened to be an Ohio man at that national convention. Charley always had a leaning toward insurance, and went down into Illinois, and started a mutual-benefit organization, which he kept going a few years down on the farm--Springfield, or Jacksonville, or somewhere down there; and when I ketched up with him again, he was just changing it to the old-line plan, and bringing it to the metropolis. Well, I helped him some to enlist capital, and he offered me the position of Superintendent of Agents. I accepted, and after serving awhile in the ranks to sort of get onto the ropes, here I am, just starting out on a trip which will take me through a number of states."
"How does it agree with you?" I inquired.
"Not well," said he, "but the good I accomplish is a great comfort to me. On this trip, now, I expect to do much in the way of stimulating the boys up to their great work of spreading the light of the gospel of true insurance. Sometimes, in these days of apathy and error, I find my burden a heavy one; and notwithstanding the quiet of conscience I gain, if it weren't for the salary, I'd quit to-morrow, Al, danged if I wouldn't. It makes me tired to have even you sort of hint that I'm actuated by some selfish motive, when, in truth and in fact, I live but to gather widows and orphans under my wing, so to speak, and give second husbands a good start, by means of policies written on the only true plan, combining participation in profits with pure mutuality, and--"
"Never mind!" said I with a silence-commanding gesture. "I've heard all that before. You're onto the ropes thoroughly; but don't practice your infernal arts on me! I hope the salary is satisfactory?"
"Fairish; but not high, considering what they get for it."
"You used to be more modest," said I. "I remember that you once nearly broke your heart because you couldn't summon up courage to ask Creeshy Hammond to go to the 'Fourth' with you; d'ye remember?"
"Well, I guess, yes!" he replied. "Wasn't I a miserable wretch for a few days! And I've never been able to ask any woman I cared about, the fateful question, yet."
We went into the parlor-car, and talked over old times and new for an hour. I told him of my marriage and my home, and I studied him. I saw that he still preserved his humorous, mock-serious style of conversation, and that his hand-to-hand battle with the world had made him good-humoredly cynical. He evinced a knowledge of more things than I should have expected; and had somehow acquired an imposing manner, in spite of his rather slangy, if expressive, vocabulary. He had the power of making statements of mere opinion, which, from some vibration of voice or trick of expression, struck the hearer as solid facts, thrice buttressed by evidence. He bore no marks of dissipation, unless the occasional use of terms traceable to the turf or the gaming-table might be considered such; but these expressions, I considered, are so constantly before every reader of the newspapers that the language of the pulpit, even, is infected by them. Their evidential value being thus destroyed, they ought not to be weighed at all, as against firm, wholesome flesh, a good complexion, and a clear eye, all of which Mr. Elkins possessed.
"It's funny," said I, "how seldom I meet any of the old neighbor-boys. Do you see any of them in your travels?"
"Not often," he answered, "but you remember little Ed Smith, who lived on the Hayes place for a while, and brought the streaked snake into the schoolhouse while Julia Fanning was teaching? Well, he was an architect at Garden City, and lives in Chicago now. We sort of chum together: saw him yesterday. He left Garden City when the land company went up. I tell you, that was a hot town for a while! Railroads, and factories, and irrigation schemes, and prices scooting toward the zenith, till you couldn't rest. If I'd got into that push soon enough, I shouldn't have made a thing but money; as it was, I didn't lose only what I had. A good many of the boys lost a lot more. But I tell you, Al, a boom properly boomed is a sure thing."
"You're a constant source of surprise to me, Jim," said I. "I should have thought them sure to lose."
"They're sure to win," said he earnestly.
I demurred. "I don't see how that can possibly be," said I, "for of all things, booms seem to me the most fickle and incalculable."
"They seem so," said he, smiling, but still in earnest, "to your rustic and untaught mind, and to most others, because they haven't been studied. The comet, likewise, doesn't seem very stable or dependable; but to the eye of the astronomer its orbit is plain, and the time of its return engagement pretty certain. It's the same with seventeen-year locusts--and booms; their visits are so far apart that the masses forget their birthmarks and the W's on their backs. But if you'll follow their appearances from place to place, as I've done, putting up my ante right along for the privilege, you'll become an accomplished boomist; and from the first gentle stirrings of boom-sprouts in the soil, so to speak, you can forecast their growth, maturity, and collapse."
"I must be permitted to doubt it," said I.
"It's easy, my son," he resumed, "dead easy, and it's psychology on the hugest scale; and among the results of its study is constant improvement of the mind, going on coincidentally with the preparation of the way to the ownership of steam-yachts and racing-stables, or any other similar trifles you hanker for."
"Great brain, Jim! Massive intellect!" said I, laughing at the fantastic absurdity of his assertion. "Why, such knowledge as you possess is better than straight tips on all the races ever to be run. It's better than our tropical island and Spanish galleons. You get richer, and you don't have to look out for men-of-war. Do I hold my job as Grand Vizier?"
"You hold any job you'll take: I'll make out the appointment with the position and salary blank, and you can fill it up. And if you get dissatisfied with that, the old grand hailing-sign of distress will catch the speaker's eye, any old time. But, I tell you, Al, in all seriousness, I'm right about this boom business. They're all alike, and they all have the same history. With the conditions right, one can be started anywhere in a growing country. I've had my ear to the ground for a while back, and I've heard things. I'm sure I detect some of the premonitory symptoms: money piling up in the financial centers; property away down, but strengthening, in the newer regions; and, lately, a little tendency to take chances in investments, forgetting the scorching of ten or twelve years ago. A new generation of suckers is gettin' ready to bite. Look into this thing, Al, and don't be a chump."
"The same old Jim," said I; "you were manipulating a corner in tobacco-tags while I was learning my letters."
"Do you ever forget anything?" he inquired. "I have about forgotten that myself. How was that tobacco-tag business, Al?"
Then with the painstaking circumstantiality of two old schoolmates luxuriating in memories, we talked over the tobacco-tag craze which swept through our school one winter. Everything in life takes place in school, and the "tobacco-tag craze" has quite often recurred to me as showing boys acting just as men act, and Jimmie Elkins as the born stormy petrel of financial seas.
It all came back to our minds, and we reconstructed this story. The manufacturers of "Tomahawk Plug" had offered a dozen photographs of actresses and dancers to any one sending in a certain number of the tin hatchets concealed in their tobacco. The makers of "Broad-axe Navy" offered something equally cheap and alluring for consignments of their brass broad-axes. The older boys began collecting photographs, and a market for tobacco-tags of certain kinds was established. We little fellows, though without knowledge of the mysterious forces which had given value to these bits of metal, began to pick up stray tags from sidewalk, foot-path, and floor. A marked upward tendency soon manifested itself. Boys found their "Broad-axe" or "Door-key" tags, picked tip at night, doubled in value by morning. The primary object in collecting tags was forgotten in the speculative mania which set in. Who would exchange "Tomahawk" tags for the counterfeit presentment of decollete dancers, when by holding them he could make cent-per-cent on his investment of hazel-nuts and slate-pencils?
The playground became a Board of Trade. We learned nothing but mental arithmetic applied to deals in "Door-keys," "Arrow-heads," and other tag properties. We went about with pockets full of tags.
Jim, not yet old enough to admire the beauties of the photographs, came forward in a week as the Napoleon of tobacco-tag finance. He acquired tags in the slumps, and sold them in the bulges. He raided particular brands with rumors of the vast supply with which the village boys were preparing to flood us. He converted his holdings into marbles and tops. Finally, he planned his master-stroke. He dropped mysterious hints regarding some tag considered worthless. He asked us in whispers if we had any. Others followed his example, and "Door-key" tags went above all others and were scarce at any price. Then Jimmie Elkins brought out the supply which he had "cornered," threw it on the market, and before it had time to drop took in a large part of the playground currency. I lost to him a good drawing-slate and a figure-4 trap.
Jimmie pocketed his winnings, but the trouble attracted the attention of the teacher, and under adverse legislation a period of liquidation set in. The distress was great. Many found themselves with property which was not convertible into photographs or anything else. To make matters worse, the discovery was made that the big boys had left school to begin the spring's work, and no one wanted the photographs. Bankrupt and disillusioned, we returned to the realities of kites, marbles, and knives, most of which we had to obtain from Jimmie Elkins.
"Yes," said he, "it's a good deal the same with booms. But if you understand 'em ... eh, Al?"
"Well," said I, really impressed now, "I'll look into it. And when you get ready to sow your boom-seed, let me know. I change cars in a few minutes, and you go on. Come down and see me sometimes, can't you? We haven't had our talk half out yet. Doesn't your business ever bring you down our way?"
"It hasn't yet, but I'm coming down into that neck of the woods within six weeks, and I guess I can fix it so's to stop off,--mingling pleasure and business. It's the only way the hustling philanthropist of my style ever gets any recreation."
"Do it," said I; "I'll have plenty of time at my disposal; for I go out of office before that time; and I may want to go into your boom-hatchery."
"On the theory that the great adversary of mankind runs an employment agency for ex's? There's the whistle for your junction. By George, Al, I can't tell you how glad I am to have ketched up with you again! I've wondered about you a million times. Don't let's lose track of each other again."
"No, no, Jim, we won't!" The train was coming to a stop. "Don't allow anything to side-track you and prevent that visit."
"Well, I should say not," he answered, following me out upon the platform of the station. "We'll have a regular piratical reunion--a sort of buccaneers' camp-fire. I've a curiosity to see some of the fellows who acted the part of rob-or to your rob-ee. I want to hear their side of the story. Good-by, Al. Confound it, I wish you were going on with me!"
He wrung my hand at parting, reminding me of the old Jim who studied from the same geography with me, more than at any time since we met. He stayed with me until after his train had started, caught hold of the hand-rail as the rear car went by, and passed out of view, waving his hand to me.
I sat down on a baggage-truck waiting for my train, thinking of my encounter with Jim. All the way home I was busy pondering over a thousand things thus suddenly recalled to me. I could see every fence-corner and barn, every hill and stream of our old haunts; and after I got home I told Alice all about it.
"He seems quite a remarkable fellow," said I, "and a perfect specimen of the pusher and hustler--a quick-witted man of affairs. If he is ever put down, he can't be kept down."
"I think I prefer a more refined type of man," said Alice.
"In the sixteenth century," I went on with that excessive perspicacity which our wives have to put up with, "he'd have been a Drake or a Dampier; in the seventeenth, the commander of a privateer or slaver; in this age, I shall not be at all surprised if he turns out a great railway or financial magnate. It's like a whiff of boyhood to talk with him; though he's a greatly different sort of man from what I should have expected to find him. I think you'll like him."
She seemed dubious about this. Our wives instinctively disapprove of people we used to know prior to that happy meeting which led to marriage. This prejudice, for some reason, is stronger against our feminine acquaintances than the others. I am not analytical enough to do more than point out this feeling, which will, I think, be admitted by all husbands to exist.
"That sort of man," said she, "lacks the qualities of bravery and intrepidity which make up a Drake or a Dampier. They are so a-scheming and calculating!"
"The last time I saw Jim until to-day," said I, "he did something which seems to show that he had those more admirable qualities."
Then I told her that story of Jim and the mad dog, which is remembered in Pleasant Valley to this day. Some say the dog was not mad; but I, who saw his terrible, insane look as he came snapping and frothing down the road, believe that he was. Jim had left the school for a year or so, and I was a "big boy" ready to leave it. It was at four one afternoon, and as the children filed into the road, there met them the shouts of men and cries of "Run! Run! Mad dog!"
The children scattered like a covey of quail; but a pair of little five-year-olds, forgotten by the others, walked on hand in hand, looking into each other's faces, right toward the poor crazed, hunted brute, which trotted slowly toward the children, gnashing its frothing jaws at sticks and weeds, at everything it met, ready to bury its teeth in the first baby to come within reach.
A young man with a canvasser's portfolio stood behind a fence over which he had jumped to avoid the dog. Suddenly he saw the children, knew their danger, and leaped back into the road. It was like a bull-fighter vaulting the barriers into the perils of the arena,--only it was to save, not to destroy. The dog had passed him and was nearer the children than he was. I wondered what he expected to do as I saw him running lightly, swiftly, and yet quietly behind the terrible beast. As he neared the animal, he stooped, and my blood froze as I saw him seize the dog with both hands by the hinder legs. The head curled sidewise and under, and the teeth almost grazed the young man's hands with a vicious, metallic snap. Then we saw what the contest was. The young man, with a powerful circling sweep of his arms, whirled the dog so swiftly about his head that the lank frame swung out in a straight line, and the snap could not be repeated. But what of the end? No muscles could long stand such a strain, and when they yielded, then what?
Then we saw that as he swung his loathsome foe, the young man was gradually approaching the schoolhouse. We saw the horrible snapping head whirl nearer and nearer at every turn to the corner of the building. Then we saw the young man strike a terrible blow at the stone wall, using the dog as a club; and in a moment I saw the stones splashed with red, and the young man lying on the ground, where the violence of his effort had thrown him, and by him lay the quivering form of what we had fled from. And the young man was James Elkins.
Alice breathed hard as I finished, and stood straight with her chin held high.
"That was fine!" said she. "I want to see that man!" _