Chapter 18

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XVIII

The keeper of the livery stable was surprised. "Why, yes," he said, "Mr. Phillips was here a spell ago. He said he was cal'latin' to go to Trumet to-day on a business cruise, and he hired Josiah and the bay horse and buggy to get him over there. They left about ten o'clock, I should say 'twas. I had a mind to ask him why he didn't take the train, but then I thought 'twould be poor business for a fellow that let teams, so I kept still. Hey? Ho, ho!"

The captain, somewhat out of breath after his hurried walk from the Macomber home to the stable, pondered a moment "Did he have a valise or satchel or anything with him?" he asked.

"No. Nothin' but his cane. Couldn't navigate a yard without his cane that feller couldn't, seemed so. Looked kind of spruced up, too. Dressed in his best bib and tucker, he was, beaver hat and all. Cal'late he must be goin' to see his best girl, eh. Ho, ho! Guess not though; from what I hear his best girl's down to the Fair Harbor."

Kendrick pondered a moment longer.

"Did he pay for the team?" he inquired.

"Hey? Yus, paid in advance, spot cash. But what you askin' all this for, Cap'n? Wanted to see him afore he went, did you?"

Sears nodded. "Just a business matter," he explained, and walked away. He did not walk far, only to the corner. There on the low stone wall bordering on the east the property of Captain Orrin Eldridge, he seated himself to rest and cogitate.

His cogitations were most unsatisfactory. They got him nowhere. He and his sister had pretty thoroughly inspected Egbert's quarters at the Macomber house. The Phillips trunk was still there, and the "horse pictures" and the photographs of Lobelia's charming lady friends! but there was precious little else. Toilet articles, collars, ties and more intimate articles of wearing apparel were missing and, except for a light coat and a summer suit of clothes, the closets were empty. And, as Sarah had said, the two valises had vanished. Egbert had told his landlady he was going to Trumet; he had told the livery man the same thing. But by far the easiest way to reach Trumet was by train. Why had he chosen to be driven there over a long and very bad road? And _what_ had become of the valises?

And then occurred the second of a series of incidents which had a marked and helpful bearing up Captain Kendrick's actions that day. He said afterwards that, for the first time since his railway accident, he really began to believe the tide of luck was turning in his direction. The first of those incidents had been his meeting and talk with Captain Elkanah. That had sent him hurrying to the Macombers' earlier than he intended. The second incident was that now, as he sat there on the Eldridge wall, down the road came the Minot truck wagon with the Foam Flake in the shafts and Judah Cahoon swinging and jolting on the seat.

Judah spied him and hailed.

"Ahoy, there, Cap'n Sears!" he shouted, pulling the old horse to a standstill. "Thought you was down to Sary's long ago. What you doin' on that wall--gone to roost so early in the day?"

The captain smiled. "Not exactly, Judah," he replied. "But what are you doin' 'way back here? I thought you were haulin' Seth Bangs's wood for him."

"Huh!" in disgust; "I thought I was, too, but there was some kind of mix-up in the time. Cal'late 'twas that Hannah Bangs that muddled it--she could muddle a cake of ice, that woman. Kind of born with a knack for makin' mistakes, she is; and she's the biggest mistake herself, 'cordin' to my notion. Seems 'twas to-morrow, not to-day, Seth expected me to come."

"Humph! So you had your cruise up there for nothin'?"

"Yus. Creepin', jumpin'! Think of it, Cap'n. I navigated this old--er--er--spavin-rack 'way up to where them folks live, three mile on the Denboro road 'tis, and then had to come about and beat for home again. I ... Oh, say I sighted a chum of ours up along that way. Who do you cal'late 'twas, Cap'n Sears? Old Eg, that's who. Togged out from truck to keelson as usual, beaver and all, and----"

"Here! Hold up! What's that, Judah? You saw Phillips up on the Denboro road, you say? What was he doin' there? When did you see him?"

"'Bout an hour ago, or such matter. He was aboard one of the livery stable teams and that Josiah Ellis was pilotin' him. I sung out to Josiah, but he never answered. Says I----"

"Sshh! Where were they bound; do you know?"

"Denboro, I presume likely. That's the only place there is to be bound to, on that road; 'less you're goin' perchin' up to Seabury's Pond, and folks don't do much perchin' in December. Not with beaver hats on, anyhow. Haw, haw! Eg and Josiah was all jammed up together on the buggy seat, with two big valises crammed in alongside of 'em, and ... Hi! What's the matter, Cap'n Sears? What's your hurry?"

The captain did not answer. He _was_ hurrying--hurrying back to the livery stable. Half an hour later he, too, was on the seat of a hired buggy, driving the best horse the stable afforded up the lonely road leading to Denboro.

He met no one on that road--which winds and twists over the hills and through the wooded hollows from one side of the Cape to the other--until he was within a mile of Denboro village. Then he saw another horse and buggy approaching his. He recognized the occupant of that buggy long before he himself was recognized.

"Hi!" he shouted, as the two vehicles came near each other. "Hi! Josiah! Josiah Ellis!"

Josiah, serenely dozing, his feet propped against the dash and his cap over his eyes, came slowly to life.

"Hey?" he murmured, drowsily. "Yes; here I be.... Eh! What's the matter? Why, hello, Cap'n Kendrick, that you?"

"Whoa!" ordered the captain, addressing his own horse, who came to a standstill beside that driven by the other. "Stop, Josiah! Come up into the wind a minute, I want to speak to you. What have you done with Phillips?"

Josiah was surprised. "Why, how did you know I had Mr. Phillips aboard?" he asked. "Oh, I presume likely they told you at the stable. But how did you know he was goin' to Denboro? _I_ never knew it till after we started. When we left port I supposed 'twas Trumet we was bound for, but we hadn't much more'n got under way when Mr. Phillips says he's changed his mind and wants to come over here. Didn't make no difference to _me_, of course. I get my wages, Saturday nights, just the same whether----"

"Where is Phillips now?"

"I was tellin' you. So we came about and headed for Denboro. Next thing we had to haul up abreast of that old tumbledown shed at the end of Tabby Crosby's lot there by the meetin'-house while Mr. Phillips hopped out and got a couple of great big satchels he'd left there. Big as trunks they was, pretty nigh, and time he got them stowed in here there wan't no room for knees nor feet nor nawthin' else seurcely. But, finally----"

"Hold on! Why did he have his dunnage in Tabitha Crosby's shed?"

"That's what _I_ couldn't make out. He said he left 'em there so's not to have to go out of our way to get 'em at Joe Macomber's. But it's about as nigh to Joe's as 'tis to Tabby's, seems to me. Seemed funny enough, that did, but 'twan't no funnier than comin' way over to the Denboro depot to take the same train he might have took just as well at Bayport. _I_ couldn't make it out. Can you, Cap'n Kendrick?"

"Did you leave him at the Denboro depot?"

"Yus. 'Bout an hour ago, or such matter. And the up train ain't due till four, and it's only half-past twelve now. I stopped at the Denboro House to get some diner. A feller has to eat once in a while, even if he ain't rich. And talk about chargin' high prices! All I had was some chowder and a piece of pie and tea, and I swan if they didn't stick me thirty-five cents! Yes, sir, thirty-five cents! And the pie was dried-apple at that. Don't talk to me no more about that Denboro House! If I ever----"

Kendrick heard no more. He was on his way to the railway station at Denboro. The mystery of the valises was, in one way, explained; in another it was more mysterious than ever. Evidently Phillips must have taken them from his rooms either early that morning or during the night--probably the latter--and hidden them in the Crosby shed. But why?

Denboro was a sleepy little village and at that hour on that raw December day the railway station was as sleepy as the rest of it. The station agent, who was also the telegraph operator, was locking his door preparatory to going home for dinner. He and the captain were old acquaintances. In days gone by he had sailed as second mate aboard a bark which Kendrick commanded. Now, retired from the sea, he was depot master and pound-keeper and constable in his native town. And, like most of Sears' shipmates, he was glad to see his former skipper.

They shook hands, exchanged observations concerning the weather, and then the depot master asked what he could do for his friend.

"I'm lookin' for a man named Phillips," explained Kendrick. "Josiah Ellis--fellow that drives for the livery stable over home--told me he left him here at your depot, Jim. About an hour ago, Josiah said it was. He doesn't seem to be here now; do you know where he's gone?"

Jim rubbed his chin. "Tall feller, thin, long mustache, beaver hat, talks important and patronizin' like a combination of Admiral Farragut and the Angel Gabriel?" he inquired.

"That's the man."

"He was here. Left them two valises yonder in my care. He's comin' back in time to take the three-fifteen."

"Three-fifteen? I thought the up train left here at half-past four or somethin' like that."

"The reg'lar train does. But there's a kind of combination, three or four freight and one passenger car, that comes up from Hyannis and goes on ahead of the other. It don't go only to Middleboro. He said he was cal'latin' to take that. I had a notion he was goin' to change at Middleboro and go somewheres else from there."

"I see. Yes, yes. And you don't know where he is now?"

"Well, he asked where was the best place to eat and I told him some went to the hotel and some to Amanda Warren's boardin'-house. 'Most of 'em only go to the hotel once, though,' says I. I guess likely you'll find him at Amanda's."

So to Mrs. Warren's boarding-house the captain drove. The lady herself opened the door for him. Yes, the gentleman described had been there. Yes, he had eaten dinner and gone.

"Do you know where he has gone?" asked Kendrick.

Mrs. Warren nodded. "He asked me where Mr. Backus, the Methodist minister, lived," she said. "He was real particular to find out how to get there, so I guess that's where he was bound."

The Methodist minister! Why on earth Egbert Phillips should go to the home of a minister was another mystery beyond Sears Kendrick's power of surmise. However, he too inquired the way to the Backus domicile and once more took up the chase.

The Methodist parsonage was a neat little white house, green-shuttered, and with a white picket fence inclosing its little front yard. It being the home of a clergyman, Sears ventured to knock at the front door; otherwise he would, of course, have gone around to the side entrance.

A white-haired little woman answered the knock. No, Mr. Backus was out, but he was expected back very soon. He had an appointment at two, so she was sure he would be in by that time. Would the captain come in and wait? There was another gentleman now in the parlor waiting. Yes, a tall gentleman with a mustache.

At last! Another minute, and Captain Kendrick, entering the Backus parlor, came face to face with the elusive object of his search, Mr. Egbert Phillips.

Egbert was sitting in a rocking chair by the marble-topped center table. A plush-covered photograph album was on that table and he was languidly turning its pages and inspecting, with a smile of tolerant amusement, the likenesses of the Backus friends and relatives. As the door opened he turned, his smile changing to one of greeting.

"Ah, Mr. Backus----" he began. And then he stopped. It was the captain who smiled now. His smile was as genial as a summer morn.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Phillips," he said. "How are you, sir?"

He stepped forward with extended hand. Still Egbert stood and stared. The photograph album, imperfectly balanced on the edge of the table, slipped to the floor.

The clergyman's wife seemed a trifle puzzled and perturbed by the Phillips expression and attitude.

"This gentleman said----" she began. "He said you and he----"

Kendrick helped her to finish: "I told the lady," he put in cheerfully, "that I had come 'way over from Bayport to see you about a little matter. I said we knew each other pretty well and I was sure you'd be glad to see me, even if I was kind of unexpected.... Excuse me, but you've dropped your picture book."

He stooped, picked up the album and replaced it on the table. This action occupied but a moment of time, nevertheless in that moment a portion at least of Egbert's poise returned. His smile might have been a bit uncertain, but it was a smile. And when Sears again extended his hand his own came to meet it.

"Of course, of course," he said. "Yes--ah--yes, indeed. How do you do, Kendrick?"

The captain beamed. "Oh, I'm feelin' tip-top," he declared. "The sight of you is enough to make me well, even if I was sick--which I'm not. Now if you and I might have a little talk?"

Mrs. Backus was anxious to oblige.

"You make yourselves right at home in here," she said. "If my husband comes I'll tell him to wait until you're through. Take all the time you want."

She was at the threshold, but Phillips detained her.

"Pardon me," he said, hastily, "but we mustn't abuse your hospitality to that extent. This--ah--gentleman and I can talk just as well out of doors. Really, I----"

"Oh, no! You must stay right here. Please do. It isn't the least trouble."

She went and the door closed behind her. Egbert glanced at the clock on the mantel and frowned. Captain Kendrick continued to smile.

"And here we are at last," he observed. "Quiet and sociable as you please. Sit down, Mr. Phillips, sit down."

But Egbert did not sit. He glanced at the clock once more and then at his watch.

"Sit down," repeated the captain. "I've been cruisin' so much this forenoon that I'm glad of the chance to sit. From what I've been able to learn you've been movin' pretty lively, too. A little rest won't do either of us any harm. Sit down, Mr. Phillips. Take the rocker."

Phillips walked to the front window, looked out, hesitated, and then, returning, did take the rocker. He looked at his fellow-townsman.

"Well?" he asked.

Kendrick nodded. "Yes," he agreed, "it is well, real well, now that I've caught up with you. I'll say this for you, you're as good a craft for leavin' a crooked wake as any I ever chased. For a while there you had me hull down. But I'm here now--and so are you."

Egbert's slim hand slowly stroked his mustache.

"There appears to be some truth in that remark," he declared. "We do seem to be here--yes.... But----"

"But you are wonderin' why _I_ am here? Well, to be honest, I came to find you. I judged that you were thinkin' of leavin' us--for a spell, anyhow--and before you went I wanted to talk with you, that's all."

A pause, and more mustache stroking. The two men regarded each other; the captain blandly beaming, Phillips evidently pondering.

"I don't know," he said, at last, "what you may mean by my thinking of leaving you. However, that is not material, and I am always delighted to see you, of course. But as I am rather busy this afternoon perhaps you'll be good enough to come to the point.... If there is a point."

"Yes, there is. Oh, yes, there's a point. Two or three points."

"Indeed! How interesting. And what are they? Please be as--ah--brief as you can."

Sears crossed his legs. All this had been but preliminary maneuvering. Here now was the real beginning of the fight; and he realized only too keenly that his side in that fight was tremendously short of ammunition. But he did not mean that his adversary should guess that fact, and with the smiling serenity of absolute confidence he fired the opening gun.

"Egbert," he began--"you don't mind my callin' you Egbert? Knowin' you as well as I do, it seems foolish to stand on ceremony, don't you think? You don't mind?"

"Not at all. Charmed, I'm sure.... Well?"

"Well--yes. We've got a good many mutual friends--you and I, Egbert. One of 'em is named George Kent. He's a great friend of both of us. Nice boy, too."

At the mention of the name the Phillips hand, caressing the Phillips mustache, paused momentarily. But it resumed operations almost at once. Other than this there was no sign of perturbation on its owner's part. He slowly shook his head.

"My _dear_ Captain Kendrick----" he drawled.

"Oh, call me Sears. _Don't_ be formal."

"My dear man, if it is possible for you to come to the point? Without too great a strain on your--ah--intellect?"

"I'm comin', Egbert. Right abreast there now. George--our mutual friend--is in trouble. He has used some money that he can't spare, used it in a stock deal. I won't go into the particulars because you know 'em just as well as I do. You got him into the trouble in the first place, I understand. Now, to a man up a tree, as the boys say, it would seem as if you ought to be the one to get him out. Particularly as you are his very best friend. Don't you think so?"

Egbert sighed before answering, a sigh of utter weariness.

"And may I ask if _this_ is the--ah--point?" he inquired.

"Why, yes--I guess so. In a way."

"And you are acting as our young friend's representative? He has seen fit to take you into his confidence concerning a matter which was supposed to be a business secret between--ah--gentlemen?"

"I could see he was in trouble and I offered to do what I could to help. Then he told me the whole thing."

"Indeed? A changeable youth. When I last heard him mention your name it was not--pardon me--in a--shall we say strictly affectionate tone?"

"That so? Too bad. But we are all liable to be mistaken in our judgments. Men--and women, too."

Again there was a slight pause; Egbert was regarding the speaker intently. The latter's countenance was about as expressive as that of a wooden idol, a good-natured one. Mr. Phillips glanced once more at the clock, languidly closed his eyes, opened them, sighed for the third time, and then spoke.

"So I am to understand that our--ah--juvenile acquaintance has turned his business affairs over to you," he said. "I congratulate him, I'm sure. The marked success which you have attained in the--ah--management of--ah--other business affairs has inspired him with perfect trust, doubtless."

"That must be it. The average man has to trust somebody and I gathered that _some_ trusts of his were beginnin' to slip their moorin's. However, here's the situation. You got him to buy some stock on margin. The stock, instead of goin' up, as you prophesied, went down. You suggested his puttin' up more margin. He'd used all his own money, so he used some belonging to some one else. Now he's in trouble, bad trouble. What are you goin' to do about it?"

"I? My dear man, what should I do about it? What can I do? I have explained my situation to him. I am, owing to circumstances and the--ah--machinations of certain individuals--both circumstances and individuals of your acquaintance, I believe--in a most unfortunate position financially. I have no money, or very little. Our--your young protege wished to risk some of his money in a certain speculation. I did the same. The speculation was considered good at the time. I still consider it good, although profit may be deferred. He took the risk with his eyes open. He is of age. He is not a child, although--pardon me--this new action of his might lead one to think him such. I am sorry for him, but I do not consider myself at all responsible."

"I see. But he has used money which wasn't his to speculate with."

"I am sorry, deeply sorry. But--is that my fault?

"Well, that might be a question, mightn't it? You knew he was usin' that money?"

"Pardon me--pardon me, Kendrick; but is that--ah--strictly true?"

"Well, he says it is. However, the question is just this: Will you help him out by buyin' up his share in this C. M. deal? Pay him back his sixteen hundred and take the whole thing over yourself?"

Mr. Phillips for the first time permitted himself the luxury of a real smile.

"My _dear_ man," he observed, "you're not seriously offering such a proposition as that, are you? You must be joking."

"It's no joke to poor George. And he's only a boy, after all. You wouldn't want him to go to jail."

The smile disappeared. "I should be pained," protested Egbert, and proved it by looking pained. "It would grieve me deeply. But I can't think such a contingency possible. No, no; not possible. And in time--my brokers assure me a very short time--the stock will advance."

"And you won't take over his share and get all that profit yourself?"

"I can't. It is impossible. I am so sorry. In former days--" with a gesture of resignation--"it would have been quite possible. Then I should have been delighted. But now.... However, you must, as a man of the world, see that all this is quite absurd. And it is painful to me, as a friend--still a friend of young Kent's. Pardon me again, but I am busy this afternoon and----"

He rose. Sears did not rise. He remained seated.

"Jail's a mean place," he remarked, with apparent irrelevance. "I'd hate to go there myself. So would you, I'll bet."

Another pause on Phillips' part. Then another wearied smile.

"Do you--ah--foresee any likelihood of either of us arriving at that destination?" he inquired.

"Well, _I'm_ hopin' to stay out, for a spell anyway. Mr. Phillips--Egbert--yes, yes, Egbert, of course; we're gettin' better acquainted all the time, so we just mustn't stand on ceremony. Egbert, how about those City of Boston 4-1/2s you put up as security over there in New York? What are you goin' to do about _them_?"

Egbert had strolled to the window and was looking out. He continued to look out. The captain, his gaze fixed upon the beautifully draped, even though the least bit shiny, shoulders of the Phillips' coat, watched eagerly for some shiver, some sign of agitation, however slight. But there was none. The sole indication that the shot just fired had had any effect was the length of time Egbert took before turning. When he did turn he was still blandly smiling. He walked back to the rocker and settled himself upon its patchwork cushion.

"Yes?" he queried. "You were saying----"

"I was speakin' of those two one thousand dollar City of Boston bonds you sent your brokers, you know. Would you mind tellin' me how you got those bonds?"

Mr Phillips lifted one slim leg over the other. He lifted two slim hands and placed their finger tips together.

"Kendrick," he asked, "you will pardon me for speaking plainly? Thank you so much. I have already listened to you for some time--more time than I should have spared. For some reason you have--ah--seen fit to--shall we say pursue me here. Having found me, you make a most--pardon me again--unreasonable and childish demand on the part of young Kent. I cannot grant it. Now is there any use wasting more time by asking--pardon me once more--impertinent questions concerning my affairs? You can scarcely--well, even you, my dear Kendrick, can hardly expect me to answer them. Don't you think this--ah--extremely pleasant interview had better end pleasantly--by ending now?"

He would have risen once more, but Sears motioned him to remain in the rocker. The captain leaned forward.

"Egbert," he said briskly, "I'm busy, too; but I have spent a good many hours and some dollars to get at you and I shan't leave you until I get at least a part of what I came after. Those Boston bonds----"

"Are my property, sir."

"Well, I don't know. The last anybody heard they were the property of Mrs. Cordelia Berry. Now you say they're yours. That's one of the matters to be settled before you and I part company, Egbert."

Mr. Phillips' aristocratic form stiffened. Slowly he rose to his feet.

"You are insulting," he proclaimed. "That will do. There is the door."

"Yes, I see it. It's a nice door; the grainin' on it seems to be pretty well done. How did you get hold of those bonds, Egbert?"

"If you don't go, I shall."

"All right. Then I'll go with you. You shan't take the three-fifteen or any other train till we've settled this and some other questions. Oh, it's a fact. No hard feelin', you know; just business, that's all."

Egbert moved toward the door. His caller rose to follow him. The captain often wondered afterward whether or not Phillips would really have left the room if there had been no interruption. The question remained a question because at that moment there was a knock on the other side of the door. It had a marked effect upon Egbert. He started, frowned and shot another glance at the clock.

"Excuse me," said Mrs. Backus, opening the door a crack, "but my husband has come."

Phillips seemed relieved, yet troubled, too.

"Yes--ah--yes," he said. "Will you kindly ask him to wait? Thank you."

The lady closed the door again. Egbert took a turn across the room and back. Kendrick smiled cheerfully.

"About those bonds?" he observed.

Phillips faced him.

"The bonds," he declared, "are mine. How I got them is not your business in the least."

"Just a minute, just a minute. Cordelia Berry----"

"Did Mrs. Berry tell you that I had them?"

"No need to bother with that part of it now. I know."

"But she did not give you authority to come to me about them? Don't pretend she did; I know better."

"I'm not goin' to pretend--that. She didn't."

"Humph!" with a sneer; "perhaps your authority comes from some one else. Her daughter, maybe? You and she are--or shall we say _were_--quite touchingly confidential at one time, I believe."

The tone and the remark were mistakes; it would have been much better for the Phillips cause if the speaker had continued to be loftily condescending. Sears kept a grip on his temper, but his own tone changed as he replied.

"Egbert," he said sharply, "look here. The facts, as far as a man without a spyglass can sight 'em through the fog, are just these: You got George Kent into a stock trade. He put up money--real money. You put up two thousand dollars in bonds and, because that was more than your share, he paid you four hundred dollars in cash. The last anybody knew the two bonds you put up were the property of Cordelia Berry. I want to know how you got hold of 'em."

"Am I to understand that you are accusing me of _stealing_ those bonds?"

"I'm not accusin' you of anything in particular. George has put this affair of his in my hands; I've got what amounts to his signed power of attorney in my pocket. If those bonds are yours, and you can prove it, then I shan't say any more about 'em. If they still belong to Cordelia--well, that's another question, one I mean to have the answer to before you and I part company."

"Kendrick, I---- Do you realize that I can have you arrested for this?"

"I don't know. But it does seem to me that if those bonds aren't your property then you had no right to pledge 'em in that stock deal. And that your takin' Kent's four hundred dollars in part payment for 'em comes pretty nigh to what a lawyer would call gettin' money under false pretenses. So the arrests might be even-Stephen, so far as that goes."

This was the sheerest "bluff," but it was delivered with all the assurance in the world. It had not precisely the effect Sears had hoped for. Egbert did not seem so much frightened as annoyed by it. He frowned, walked across the room and back, looked at the clock, then out of the window, and finally turned to his opponent.

"Recognizing, of course," he sneered, "the fact that all this is absolutely none of your business, Kendrick; may I ask why you didn't come to me in Bayport instead of here?"

The captain's smile returned. "I did try to come, Egbert," he answered. "But you had gone and so had the things in your room. You told Sarah and the stable folks you were goin' to Trumet. When I found you hadn't gone there, but were bound for here--after hidin' your valises over night in Tabby Crosby's shed--I decided you might be goin' even farther than Denboro, and that if I wanted to see you pretty soon--or ever, maybe--I'd better hoist sail and travel fast. When the depot folks told me you were askin' about the three-fifteen I felt confirmed in my judgments, as the fellow said. Now if you'll tell me about those bonds?"

Another turn by Phillips across the parlor and back. Then he asked, with sarcasm, "If I were to tell you that those bonds were given me by Mrs. Berry, you wouldn't believe it, I presume?"

"We-ll, I'd like to hear a little testimony from Cordelia first."

"May I ask why you did not go to her instead of to me?"

"I didn't have a chance. You got away too soon."

"Possibly you may have thought that she, too, would consider it none of your business. And, since you won't take my word, how do you expect me to prove--here in Denboro that those bonds are mine?"

"I don't know. But if it can't be proved in Denboro, then I'm afraid, Egbert, that you'll have to go back to Bayport with me and prove it there.... Oh, I know you'd hate to go, but----"

"Go! I flatly refuse to go, of course."

"I was afraid you would. Well, then I'd have to call in the constable to help get you under way. Jim Baker, the depot master, is constable here in Denboro. He and I were shipmates. He'd arrest the prophet Elijah if I asked him to, and not ask why, either."

"Kendrick----"

"Egbert, a spell ago you and I had a little chat together and I told you I had just begun to fight.... Well, I haven't really begun yet, but I'm gettin' up steam.... Think it over."

Phillips stopped and, standing by the window, stared fixedly at the captain. The latter met the stare with a look of the blandest serenity. Behind the look, however, were feelings vastly different. If ever a forlorn hope skated upon thin ice, his and George Kent's was doing so at that moment. If Egbert _should_ agree to return to Bayport, and if his statement concerning the ownership of the Boston bonds _was_ true, then--well, then it would not be Mr. Phillips who might receive the attentions of the constable.

Egbert stopped staring and once more looked at the clock. Quarter past two! He turned again quickly.

"Kendrick," he snapped, "what _is_ your proposition?"

"My proposition? I want you to pay me the sixteen hundred dollars Kent put into that C. M. stock deal. If you do that I'll give you his signed paper turnin' over to you all interest in the deal. You can make all the profit on it yourself--when it comes. Then in matter of Cordelia's bonds----"

Phillips lifted a hand.

"The bonds are not to be considered," he said, decisively. "If they are mine, as I say they are, you have no claim on them. If they are Mrs. Berry's, as you absurdly pretend to think they are, again you have no claim. If she says I have stolen them--which she won't--she may prosecute; but, again, my dear sir, she--ah--won't."

The slight smile accompanying the last sentence troubled the captain. It was not the smile of a frightened man. Before he could reply Egbert continued.

"But the bond matter may be settled later," he went on. "So far as I am concerned it is settled now. For our--ah--foolish young friend, Kent, however, I feel a certain sense of--shall we say pity?--and am inclined to make certain confessions. Silly sentimentalism on my part, doubtless--but pity, nevertheless. If you will give me the paper signed by him, which you claim to have, relinquishing all share in the stock at the New York brokers, I will--well, yes, I will pay you the sixteen hundred dollars."

It was Sears Kendrick who was staggered now. It was his turn to stare.

"You will pay me sixteen hundred dollars--_now_?" he gasped.

"Yes."

"But--but.... Humph! Well, thanks, Egbert--but your check, you know----"

"I have no time to waste in drawing checks. I will pay you in cash."

And, as Sears's already wide-open eyes opened wider and wider, he calmly took from his coat a pocketbook hugely obese and extracted from that pocketbook a mammoth roll of bank notes.

Ten minutes later the captain was again moving along the road between Denboro and Bayport, bound home this time. He was driving mechanically; the horse was acting as his own pilot, for the man who held the reins was too much engrossed in thought to pay attention to such inconsequential matters as ruts or even roads. Sears was doing his best to find the answer to a riddle and, so far, the answer was as deeply shrouded in mist as ever a ship of his had been on any sea.

He was satisfied in one way, more than satisfied. His demand for the full sixteen hundred had been made with no real hope. Had Phillips consented to return eight hundred dollars of the amount, the offer would in the end have been accepted with outward reluctance but inward joy. Had he refused to return a penny Kendrick would not have been surprised. But Egbert, after making up his mind, had paid the entire sum without a whimper, had paid it almost casually and with the air of one obliging a well-meaning, if somewhat annoying, inferior. Inspecting and pocketing Kent's power of attorney and the captain's receipt he had dismissed his visitor at the parsonage door as King Solomon in all his glory might have graciously dismissed a beggar whose petition had been granted. And the look in his eye and the half smile beneath the long mustache were not those of one beaten at a game--no, they were not.

The recollection of that look and that smile bothered Sears Kendrick. He could not guess what was behind them. One thing seemed to be certain, his threats of prosecution and his bluffs concerning the Boston bonds had not alarmed Phillips greatly. He had not given in because he was afraid of imprisonment. No; no, the only symptoms of nervousness he had shown were his repeated glances at the clock, at his watch, and when he looked out of the parsonage window. More and more the captain was forced to the conclusion that Egbert had paid him to get rid of him, that he did not wish to be detained or to have Kendrick remain there, and his reasons must have been so important that he was willing to part with sixteen hundred dollars to get his visitor out of the way.

But what possible reason could be as important as that? Why had he run away from Bayport? Why was he taking the three-fifteen train--at Denboro? Why was he spending the time before the departure of that train in the parlor of the Methodist parsonage? And he had made an appointment with the minister himself. Was he expecting some one else at that parsonage?

Eh? The captain straightened on the buggy seat. He spoke aloud one word, a name.

"Cordelia!" he cried.

For another five minutes Captain Sears Kendrick, his frown growing deeper and deeper as the conviction was forced upon him, sat motionless in the buggy. Then he spoke sharply to his horse, turned the latter about, and drove rapidly back to Denboro. He could do nothing worth while, he could prevent nothing, but he could answer that riddle. He believed he had answered it already.

It was half-past three when he again knocked at the parsonage door. The Reverend Backus himself answered the knock.

"Why, no," he said, "Mr. Phillips has gone. Yes, I think--I am sure he took the train. You are his friend, aren't you? I am sorry you missed the--er--happy event. Mrs. Phillips--the new Mrs. Phillips--is a charmingly refined lady, isn't she? And Mr. Phillips himself is _such_ a gentleman. I don't know when I have had the pleasure of--er--officiating at a pleasanter ceremony. I shall always remember it."

Mrs. Backus looked over her husband's shoulder.

"The bride came just after you left," she explained. "She was just a little late, she said; but it was all right, there was plenty of time. And she did look _so_ happy!"

Captain Kendrick did not look happy. He had answered the riddle correctly. An elopement, of course. It was plain enough now. Oh, if he might have been there when that poor, silly, misguided woman arrived! He might not have been able to stop the marriage, but at least he could--and would--have told the bride a few pointed truths concerning the groom.

Mrs. Backus, all smiles, asked her husband a question. "What did you say her name was, dear?" she asked.

The minister hesitated. "Why--why--" he stammered, "it was---- Dear me, how forgetful I am!"

Sears supplied the information.

"Berry," he said, gloomily. "Cordelia Berry."

Mr. Backus seemed surprised. "Why, no," he declared. "That doesn't sound like the name.... It wasn't. No, it wasn't. It was--I have it--Snowden. Miss Elvira Snowden--of Ostable, I believe." _

Read next: Chapter 19

Read previous: Chapter 17

Table of content of Fair Harbor: A Novel


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book