________________________________________________
_ A strange expression began imperceptibly to alter the planes of her
face, and slowly she grew as scarlet as Mary--scarlet to the ears.
She looked at her watch again--and twenty-five minutes had elapsed
since she had looked at it before.
She went into the hall, glanced over her shoulder oddly; then she
let herself softly out of the front door, and went across the street
to her own house.
Roscoe met her upon the threshold, gloomily. "Saw you from the
window," he explained. "You must find a lot to say to that old
lady."
"What old lady?"
"Mrs. Vertrees. I been waiting for you a long time, and I saw the
daughter come out, fifteen minutes ago, and post a letter, and then
walk on up the street. Don't stand out on the porch," he said,
crossly. "Come in here. There's something it's come time I'll
have to talk to you about. Come in!"
But as she was moving to obey he glanced across at his father's house
and started. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the setting
sun, staring fixedly. "Something's the matter over there," he
muttered, and then, more loudly, as alarm came into his voice, he
said, "What's the matter over there?"
Bibbs dashed out of the gate in an automobile set at its highest
speed, and as he saw Roscoe he made a genture singularly eloquent of
calamity, and was lost at once in a cloud of dust down the street.
Edith had followed part of the way down the drive, and it could be
seen that she was crying bitterly. She lifted both arms to Roscoe,
summoning him.
"By George!" gasped Roscoe. "I believe somebody's dead!"
And he started for the New House at a run.
Sheridan had decided to conclude his day's work early that afternoon,
and at about two o'clock he left his office with a man of affairs from
foreign parts, who had traveled far for a business conference with
Sheridan and his colleagues. Herr Favre, in spite of his French name,
was a gentleman of Bavaria. It was his first visit to our country,
and Sheridan took pleasure in showing him the sights of the country's
finest city. They got into an open car at the main entrance of the
Sheridan Building, and were driven first, slowly and momentously,
through the wholesale district and the retail district; then more
rapidly they inspected the packing-houses and the stock-yards; then
skirmished over the "park system" and "boulevards"; and after that
whizzed through the "residence section" on their way to the factories
and foundries.
"All cray," observed Herr Favre, smilingly.
"'Cray'?" echoed Sheridan. "I don't know what you mean. 'Cray'?"
"No white," said Herr Favre, with a wave of his hand toward the long
rows of houses on both sides of the street. "No white lace window-
curtains; all cray lace window-curtains."
"Oh. I see!" Sheridan laughed indulgently. "You mean 'GRAY.'
No, they ain't, they're white. I never saw any gray ones."
Herr Favre shook his head, much amused. "There are NO white ones,
he said. "There is no white ANYTHING in your city; no white window-
curtains, no white house, no white peeble!" He pointed upward.
"Smoke!" Then he sniffed the air and clasped his nose between
forefinger and thumb. "Smoke! Smoke ef'rywhere. Smoke in your
insites." He tapped his chest. "Smoke in your lunks!"
"Oh! SMOKE!" Sheridan cried with gusto, drawing in a deep breath
and patently finding it delicious. "You BET we got smoke!"
"Exbensif!" said Herr Favre. "Ruins foliage; ruins fabrics. Maybe
in summer it iss not so bad, but I wonder your wifes will bear it."
Sheridan laughed uproariously. "They know it means new spring hats
for 'em!"
"They must need many, too!" said the visitor. "New hats, new all
things, but nothing white. In Munchen we could not do it; we are
a safing peeble."
"Where's that?"
"In Munchen. You say 'Munich.'"
"Well, I never been to Munich, but I took in the Mediterranean trip,
and I tell you, outside o' some right good scenery, all I saw was
mighty dirty and mighty shiftless and mighty run-down at the heel.
Now comin' right down TO it, Mr. Farver, wouldn't you rather live here
in this town than in Munich? I know you got more enterprise up there
than the part of the old country I saw, and I know YOU'RE a live
business man and you're associated with others like you, but when it
comes to LIVIN' in a place, wouldn't you heap rather be here than over
there?"
"For me," said Herr Favre, "no. Here I should not think I was living.
It would be like the miner who goes into the mine to work; nothing
else."
"We got a good many good citizens here from your part o' the world.
THEY like it."
"Oh yes." And Herr Favre laughed deprecatingly. "The first
generation, they bring their Germany with them; then, after that,
they are Americans, like you." He tapped his host's big knee
genially. "You are patriot; so are they."
"Well, I reckon you must be a pretty hot little patriot yourself, Mr.
Farver!" Sheridan exclaimed, gaily. "You certainly stand up for your
own town, if you stick to sayin' you'd rather live there than you
would here. Yes, SIR! You sure are some patriot to say THAT--after
you've seen our city! It ain't reasonable in you, but I must say I
kind of admire you for it; every man ought to stick up for his own,
even when he sees the other fellow's got the goods on him. Yet I
expect way down deep in your heart, Mr. Farver, you'd rather live
right here than any place else in the world, if you had your choice.
Man alive! this is God's country, Mr. Farver, and a blind man couldn't
help seein' it! You couldn't stand where you do in a business way and
NOT see it. Soho, boy! Here we are. This is the big works, and I'll
show you something now that'll make your eyes stick out!"
They had arrived at the Pump Works; and for an hour Mr. Favre was
personally conducted and personally instructed by the founder and
president, the buzzing queen bee of those buzzing hives.
"Now I'll take you for a spin in the country," said Sheridan, when
at last they came out to the car again. "We'll take a breezer."
But, with his foot on the step, he paused to hail a neat young man
who came out of the office smiling a greeting. "Hello, young fellow!"
Sheridan said, heartily. "On the job, are you, Jimmie? Ha! They
don't catch you OFF of it very often, I guess, though I do hear you go
automobile-ridin' in the country sometimes with a mighty fine-lookin'
girl settin' up beside you!" He roared with laughter, clapping his
son upon the shoulder. "That's all right with me--if it is with HER!
So, Jimmie? Well, when we goin' to move into your new warehouses?
Monday?"
"Sunday, if you want to," said Jim.
"No!" cried his father, delighted. "Don't tell me you're goin' to
keep your word about dates! That's no way to do contractin'! Never
heard of a contractor yet didn't want more time."
"They'll be all ready for you on the minute," said Jim. "I'm going
over both of 'em now, with Links and Sherman, from foundation to roof.
I guess they'll pass inspection, too!"
"Well, then, when you get through with that," said his father, "you
go and take your girl out ridin'. By George! you've earned it! You
tell her you stand high with ME!" He stepped into the car, waving a
waggish farewell, and when the wheels were in motion again, he turned
upon his companion a broad face literally shining with pride. "That's
my boy Jimmie!" he said.
"Fine young man, yes," said Herr Favre.
"I got two o' the finest boys," said Sheridan, "I got two o' the
finest boys God ever made, and that's a fact, Mr. Farver! Jim's
the oldest, and I tell you they got to get up the day before if they
expect to catch HIM in bed! My other boy, Roscoe, he's always to
the good, too, but Jim's a wizard. You saw them two new-process
warehouses, just about finished? Well, JIM built 'em. I'll tell you
about that, Mr. Farver." And he recited this history, describing the
new process at length; in fact, he had such pride in Jim's achievement
that he told Herr Favre all about it more than once.
"Fine young man, yes," repeated the good Munchner, three-quarters
of an hour later. They were many miles out in the open country by
this time.
He is that!" said Sheridan, adding, as if confidentially: "I got
a fine family, Mr. Farver--fine chuldern. I got a daughter now; you
take her and put her anywhere you please, and she'll shine up with ANY
of 'em. There's culture and refinement and society in this town by
the car-load, and here lately she's been gettin' right in the thick
of it--her and my daughter-in-law, both. I got a mighty fine
daughter-in-law, Mr. Farver. I'm goin' to get you up for a meal with
us before you leave town, and you'll see--and, well, sir, from all I
hear the two of 'em been holdin' their own with the best. Myself, I
and the wife never had time for much o' that kind o' doin's, but it's
all right and good for the chuldern; and my daughter she's always kind
of taken to it. I'll read you a poem she wrote when I get you up at
the house. She wrote it in school and took the first prize for poetry
with it. I tell you they don't make 'em any smarter'n that girl, Mr.
Farver. Yes, sir; take us all round, we're a pretty happy family;
yes, sir. Roscoe hasn't got any chuldern yet, and I haven't ever
spoke to him and his wife about it--it's kind of a delicate matter--
but it's about time the wife and I saw some gran'-chuldern growin' up
around us. I certainly do hanker for about four or five little curly-
headed rascals to take on my knee. Boys, I hope, o' course; that's
only natural. Jim's got his eye on a mighty splendid-lookin' girl;
lives right next door to us. I expect you heard me joshin' him about
it back yonder. She's one of the ole blue-bloods here, and I guess
it was a mighty good stock--to raise HER! She's one these girls that
stand tight up and look at you! And pretty? She's the prettiest
thing you ever saw! Good size, too; good health and good sense.
Jim'll be just right if he gets her. I must say it tickles ME to
think o' the way that boy took ahold o' that job back yonder. Four
months and a half! Yes, sir--" _
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