_ CHAPTER XVIII
Captain Pott paused on the threshold. He looked from one to the other of the occupants of the room. He crossed over and picked up the paper which the Elder had dropped. He slowly read the contents.
"Ain't breaking in on an experience meeting, be I?" he asked.
"Oh! Uncle Josiah! Tell Father it isn't true!" entreated the girl.
"I'd say 'twas purty likely, according to all the signs." He chuckled.
"Please don't laugh. I can't stand it. Tell Father about----"
"There now, Beth, you and the parson set sail for a little cruise down the beach. I've something private to say to your dad."
"What you have to say to me, sir, will be said in the presence of my daughter," replied the Elder, making a pathetic attempt at stiffness.
"You're mistook on that p'int, Jim. I'm skipper aboard here, and them's orders."
The Elder's hands shook uncontrollably as he gripped the head of his walking-stick.
"You're all wasting good time," observed the seaman. "You'd best heave to, and obey orders. Mutiny won't be allowed."
"I intend to remain right here till this mystery concerning me is cleared up," declared the minister.
"Mystery about you?" exclaimed the Captain. "Why, Mack, there ain't nothing like that about you. You're as clear as an open sky. What I've got to say is just 'twixt Jim and me. You couldn't get in on it to save your soul. Now, you and Beth clear out."
"Josiah Pott, I recognize no right that permits you to intrude into my family affairs. If what you have to say is concerning the mortgage you had better speak at once. There is nothing about that which is confidential."
"That's according to the way you look at it. I'd a heap sight rather say it in private, Jim. It may prove embarrassing----"
"Then, good night. Come, Beth."
"There ain't no use of you going off mad, Jim. I only wanted a word with you about something that does consarn us both a mite. You ain't got no objection to that, have you?"
The show of apparent humility on the part of the Captain made it possible for the Elder to remain, providing the conference should be made brief.
"You ain't no more anxious to get it over than I be. We'll step right in here in Mack's cabin, if you don't mind."
The Elder balked. "I prefer witnesses," he said. "Otherwise, you may come to my home to-morrow evening. I did not seek this unpleasant interview, and since I leave it to my lawyers to carry on my business affairs, I do not intend to hound my debtors personally."
"You ain't been hounding me personally, Jim, but there's some things that you can't leave even to crooked lawyers. You'd best handle this personally. If that shyster tries to get in on this his neck won't be wuth the skin that covers it."
"You still persist in trying to threaten me, I see."
"No, Jim, this ain't a threat. If you want the witness part after I get through I'll accommodate you with plenty of 'em. But I cal'late we'd best talk it over private-like fust. I happened onto a feller the other day by the name of John Peters, and he spun me the likeliest yarn I ever heard about Australia. I thought you'd like to hear it, but I don't want to take your valuable time. Good night."
"Hold on, Josiah! I did not catch that name. Who was it you saw?"
But the Captain did not hold on to anything except to his news concerning John Peters. He entered the minister's study and closed the door.
A little later the side door opened and closed quietly. The seaman thought the Fox had run for his hole. But the study door soon opened. The Captain turned his back, drew out his pipe, and with slow deliberation began to pack the bowl with shavings from a black plug of tobacco.
"I think I can spare you a few minutes, Josiah," barely whispered the Elder. "I don't want to seem arrogant and high-handed in the matter of that small loan. And if there is anything----"
"That's all right, Jim, about that loan. Come right in, and set down. Thought you'd gone hum."
"That was the preacher going out with my daughter. He shall see the day when he'll pay for his impudence."
"Most of us get caught afore we're through life, Jim."
"I don't know why I'm doing this little service for you to-night, except it be for the sake of our boyhood friendship. I am willing to suffer this inconvenience----"
"It's mighty kind of you," cut in the Captain sharply. "But for once that boyhood rot ain't going to help you none. It ain't going to let you turn any more of them tricks of a black rascal simply because you pose as a shining martyr. The way you've treated Mack McGowan----"
"If this conversation is to be about the minister, I shall save you the trouble of speaking by going at once."
"It ain't no trouble for me to speak. What I've got to say does consarn Mack a heap, and you'd best listen. When I finish you'll see that it's best for him to stay right here in this church, if he wants to, after all the mean low-down tricks you've served him."
"I shall not allow you to pick a quarrel. I regret that you are so much inclined that way."
"You can keep all your regretting till later, you'll likely need it. What I want to make plain to you is that Mack is going to stay right here in Little River, perviding he wants to."
"Indeed? You surprise me. I usually get my way about church matters. Permit me to say that you shall not interfere in these affairs any more than in those of my own home."
"That's been the trouble with you all these years, Jim. You've been getting your own way too long. I'm not going to interfere one mite, I'm just going to dictate for this once. If I ain't way off in my soundings, you'll be mighty glad to have him as a son-in-law, too."
Mr. Fox rose and lifted his cane. He tapped the corner of the desk. He opened his mouth, but his anger choked him.
"You make me nervous, Jim. Set down and set still. I ain't going to speak of the parson right off. Ain't you going to set down? There, that's better."
The Elder's face was livid.
"I cal'late I'll talk better if I get this thing going," observed the seaman, lighting his pipe. "Now, Jim, I ain't sartin why I'm going to talk to you in private like this, but----"
"By God! It's time you're finding out! Your impudence has got beyond all bounds."
"I wouldn't swear like that. It ain't becoming to one of your position in the church. Them black scowls and blue cuss-words ain't going to get you nothing."
"You impudent dog! I thought you were intending to pay me that little debt, or I should never have entered this room. Your insults are----"
"Sartin sure. 'Most forgot that." The Captain drew out a bank-draft and handed it over to the surprised Elder. "Thanks for reminding me. It's best to clear all decks afore manoeuvers are begun in earnest."
"I shall be going now. But I cannot take that draft. You will learn more about that later."
"Suit yourself on both p'ints, Jim," replied the seaman studying the tips of his heavy boots. "You'd best take this money, though. It pays off all I owe you. Anyway, I'd stay if I was you. You'd sure enjoy Peters' yarn."
The two men eyed each other like a pair of wild animals. The Elder at length rose.
"Pott, I'll not listen to more of your insane talk. I fear all your trouble has gone to your head. I'm sorry if that is the case. You would do well to consult some brain specialist."
"No, it ain't my head it's gone to. It's my heart." His words were gentle, but his eyes were as hard as flint. "I've been itching to get hold of you for some time, Jim, but I ain't seen any handle till now. Since you made me that offer up to your house t'other night I've been wanting to choke you. Yes, to choke you till your lying old pipe of a gullet would shut off your wind for good and all. But the law won't allow me that pleasure." He continued with intense bitterness: "I s'pose you're wondering where I got that money to pay off your filthy loan."
"So this is the gratitude you offer for my kindness?"
"It's a fat lot you've ever done for me! You've just told me this ain't no good."
"The fact of the matter is, my lawyers probably foreclosed on the real mortgage at noon to-day."
"Then, that lawyer feller I see wa'n't far off his course, after all," replied the Captain, laying the draft on the table. "Now, Jim, show your hand and be damn quick afore I call your turn on the deal," demanded the seaman as though certain that a prior conclusion had proven correct.
"I have nothing to show at this time."
"By the Almighty, then, look out! I sold my
Jennie P. to get you that money. It was purty hard to see her go, but it wa'n't all loss, not by a heap. John Peters bought her. I told him why I was selling her. He was real sorry, and then he spun me the yarn about your crookedness in Australia. I got the rest of the story by installments, about the way you treated Adoniah. John give me some mighty interesting news about an old Mrs. Rogers, who was the mother of Adoniah's wife. She's here right now looking for heirs and crooks."
The Elder had risen again, but the name spoken by the Captain struck him like a shot. He dropped back, his head fell forward, and his hands locked over the head of his stick.
"After that I seen Harold, and he told me where the woman was staying. I looked her up, and she told me the whole enduring yarn. It was Clemmie's last letter from Adoniah that set me going on your trail, and the old woman cleared up the fog. I had that letter in my pocket up to your place that night, but Providence or something kept me from showing it to you. That old lady had a picture of her darter Emmie, and it nearly knocked me over when she showed it to me. It was the same that Mack has here in this frame of his own mother. Take a look at that picture." He opened a drawer, lifted out a gilt-frame, and passed a small daguerreotype across to the Elder. "Mack has showed me this often, and I see that he was a chip off the old block on his mother's side. But I never dreamed the truth, because of his name." The Captain's eyes narrowed. "I've been wondering, Jim, if that wa'n't what went to your head that night he had dinner up there,--seeing the likeness, all of a sudden, to his mother."
He paused to give the Elder time to study the picture.
"Josiah, what on earth has all this nonsense to do with me? Just what are you accusing me of?"
"Nothing yet. I'm coming to that part. I looked up that feller who was with you over there, and I dragged your damned sin out of him. When it comes right down to it, I hate like time to take away your chart and compass this way, but you've been doing it to others for so long that I cal'late it's coming to you. I'd have let the old lady tear out your side-whiskers if it hadn't been for them children of yours. It was for them that I asked you in here."
The Elder roused and made a pathetic effort to straighten his drooping figure. "I think,--er,--Josiah, I see your game at last. You purpose to frighten me with these wild tales from some old witch. I shall compel you to offer proof, for all your insinuations, in court."
"Insinuations! Proof! Lord, Jim!" cried the Captain, aiming a powerful finger in the direction of the Elder. "I've got proof enough to lock you up in the London Towers, or wherever it was you let Adoniah suffer for your infernal wickedness. Proof! Hell! You ain't that big a fool. Set still and hear me. You never see the shores of Africa. It was in Australia that you and Adoniah got in with that trader Rogers,--Emmie's father,--and you was getting rich trading in opals. Then, the both of you fell in love with Emmie, and Adoniah beat you out and married her. It wa'n't long after that when Adoniah took down with a fever. God, man! When I think what you done to him when he couldn't fight back, I could kill you! You got trapped in a bad deal, and while Adoniah was raving with a fever you took all the money there was and skipped. You was careful to ship all the blame for your dirty work on Adoniah afore you sneaked out a rich man."
"Pott, that is enough. There is not a court in all this country that would believe your wild tale. Try it, and see how quickly they would lock you up in a madhouse."
"They won't believe what I say?"
"I dare you to go into any court and try it. I'm too well known."
"Jim, don't toss me that old line, it's a mite too green and slimy to look tasty."
"I'm through with this stuff and nonsense, sir!" shouted the Elder. He started for the door.
"Well, I ain't through with you. I'm only just begun." The Captain intercepted him. "You set there, or I'll set you. This trader, Rogers, got onto your little game afore you set sail, and tried to get you arrested. But you'd covered your dirty tracks. He caught you, though, and made you sign something----"
"That would not stand in court. I can prove that I was forced to sign a false statement at the point of a gun."
"Thanks, Jim. I'm glad I ain't got to prove to you that you done the signing." Carefully choosing his words, the Captain continued. "That feller you had hiding with you that night done some signing, too. I got hold both them papers. I found that other feller and made him dance the devil's tune. He done some purty things for a missionary of the Son of God. His name was Means.
"You know the rest of the yarn, how Adoniah was taken off on one of them floating hells, called a convict-ship. The thing was nearly wrecked, and he was making his escape after swimming to land when he turned into a mission place for a bite to eat. He come face to face with that fat missionary who got you out of the country. Instead of feeding him, and giving him decent clothing, like a Christian ought to do, he took him to the officers. They put him in a dungeon. For nigh onto two years he was kept there. Then this Rogers feller got hold of a lawyer with as much heart as brains, and they got him out. The old lady said he wa'n't much to look at when he come out. They sent 'em over here, thinking it would be good for Adoniah's health. But he was all wore out, and couldn't hold a job. He was a heap too proud to beg or ask help. Not wanting to disgrace his family name with the damned record you give him, he changed his. The old lady said it was about then that they lost track of 'em. I got the rest of the story from Harold on my way home to-night from Edna's place. That's why I was late.
"Adoniah and his family lived in them dirty streets of lower East Side. He was a wreck, and Emmie tried to work to keep things up. Both of 'em died, starved to death, while you and that damn missionary was getting fat on the money you stole. You had busted up the firm so Rogers couldn't help none then, even if he'd found 'em. The little boy they left was found by some neighbors. He was 'most starved and nearly froze. He was living with an old janitor woman, and she was sending him out on the streets to sell papers! Think of that, Jim Fox! A little boy, five years old, peddling papers to pay your bills with! Them folks found him one morning in a doorway, asleep!"
The old seaman's voice choked. He slowly refilled his pipe. When he resumed his narrative, his breath was coming heavily. "This Rogers feller lost all track of 'em. He made money fast after he got on his feet, but all his searching got him nothing. The old lady said they kept paying some interest or other on a debt Adoniah owed to you in order to save some property of his. I didn't tumble just then what 'twas she meant. But I found out to-night. When the old man died, Mrs. Rogers shut down on that paying business and began in real earnest to look for her darter."
The Elder had slouched forward in his chair.
"You thought you was hid, and so you come back to this town to stick your head in one of its sand-heaps. I tell you, Jim, I ain't been very strong on the p'int of a Providence directing our ways. It's always seemed to me like a blind force pushing us from behind. But I'm getting converted. When that there missionary showed up at the installing meeting, the devil come right forward and asked for his pay. Means wa'n't long in seeing the mother's face in Mack.
"It was Mack who sold them papers. It was that low-down missionary of a Means who was working in a mission down on the East Side after coming back who put him in with that janitor woman. You both done all the dirt you could to his dad by stealing all he had, and now because you've been scared that he'd squeal on you, the both of you are trying to steal his right to live as a man. I suppose if you'd have known that he was as ignorant as a babe about all this, you'd done nothing against him. But Providence come in by way of your own home. Harold got that woman over here afore he knew where the scent was going, but he can't stop her now. Beth found it all out to-day, too."
The expected blast of hot denial and bitter denunciation did not follow. Instead, the Elder merely bent his head and acknowledged it all. He did not bewail his misfortune. He seemed beyond that.
"It's a mighty bad thing, Jim, when a feller lets the furniture of his house get more important than himself, ain't it? It leaves him kind of bare when it's all moved out."
"Josiah, you're right. It's even worse when the furniture has been stolen," remarked the man. He raised his head and looked at the little gilt-framed picture on the desk. He covered his face. With a dry sob he folded his arms across the picture, and dropped his head upon them. "My God! I didn't mean to do it when I began. I must have been insane. It seemed so easy at the time. I've suffered a thousand hells all these years!"
"I know. You just went along the way that seemed easy-like. At fust it ain't hard to go with the greedy crowd, but the turning's mighty hard. You sartin went the easiest way for yourself, Jim, but them you done wrong to, died in awful poverty."
"I can't stand any more!"
"John told me that Adoniah was going to get your hide after he got back here, but when he see you was married and had a little baby----"
"Stop it, Josiah! Do with me as you like, but don't tell me any more. I'll go insane!"
"I cal'late what you said about suffering your share is as nigh the truth as you've come in many a year. If I'd been intending to give you up to that old woman, do you cal'late I'd brought you in here?"
"Josiah, do you mean that you do not intend to give me up?" asked the crumpled man incredulously. He raised his head and peered across the room.
"Not if you're willing to obey orders. Others have been suffering, and that's got to stop."
"I'll do anything you say."
"The fust thing, that Sim Hicks and his gang has got to be choked off."
"I don't know what you refer to, but----"
"Jim, I thought we'd cut out that old green line of pretending. I ain't going to nibble, so just stop casting it at me. I mean his booze-selling to them boys."
"That can be arranged," hurriedly agreed the Elder.
"Thought it likely could. The second little matter is that Mr. McGowan is going to stay right here in this church as minister."
"I'll do my best----Yes, I shall see to that."
"Now, about that money you stole from his dad. That goes back to Mack with interest."
"But, Josiah, I can't do that. It would ruin me. I wouldn't mind for myself, but my family----"
"I know, that's the hard part of paying off old debts, the innocent has got to suffer. But that can be fixed so it won't bother you much. It might do you good to take a taste of your own medicine."
"Can this be done without the village finding it out?"
"It's purty hard to give up your position as village hero, ain't it, Jim? I cal'late it's going to be purty tolerable hard to dress a hypocrite up like a saint without people finding it out sooner or later, but we'll try it for a spell. Harold said to-night that he'd draw up papers for you. We're going to try to keep this a sort of family skeleton."
"How can I ever thank you!"
"You'd best give them thanks to the Almighty."
"I do, most heartily."
"Just touch a match to this paper you dropped. Here 'tis. I cal'late you wa'n't intending for no one to see this but Beth."
"That is true, Josiah. I wished to keep her from going any further with Mr. McGowan." With trembling fingers he set fire to that piece of paper.
"One word more about money. What are you going to do about the loan on this place?"
"You may keep that, Josiah, as a token of my appreciation for what you have done."
"Not this one," said the Captain. "That's honest enough to pass. I mean that one the interest has been paid on all these years."
"I'm afraid that my lawyers foreclosed on that at noon----"
"From what Harold said, I cal'late you'll find the interest was paid afore they had a chance to foreclose. If I was you, Jim, I'd just cancel that mortgage. The interest has more than paid it back these years. Mack's estate otter be clear."
The man before whom great ones had been made to tremble because of financial power, now meekly nodded assent to a sea captain.
"And we'll just include everything you owe Mack in the papers Harold is going to draw up?"
"I'll be only too glad to do as you say. But how about this Rogers woman?"
"I'll see to her. She'd never recognize you as the dude who beat her son-in-law. You've changed consider'ble since then. You've even changed a mite to-night."
The Captain took up his pipe from the table, shook off the ash, and relighted it.
"Is that all, Josiah?"
"Yes. I cal'late you'd best be going." He handed the Elder his hat, and lifted his walking-stick from the floor.
"Thanks, Josiah. You have been very kind to me. More than I deserve."
"There ain't no room for argument on that p'int."
As the Elder reached the door the Captain halted him.
"If I was you, Jim, I'd keep my oar out of that love affair of Mack and Beth."
"Quite right, Josiah. Good night."
The Elder got out of the house and into the road in a stumbling fashion. He climbed the knoll to his estate, a saddened and broken old man, but with a relief of mind and heart that he had not known for years. _