The Dominant Dollar Part 30

"Wasn't that what you meant?" he repeated, and just for a second the smile crept beyond the eyes.

"Yes. It's useless to lie."

"--To me?"

This time Randall's face flamed undeniably.

"Yes--to you," he admitted. "You're positively uncanny."

"Don't do it then," shortly, "ever. To answer your question: The main reason, I think, is because to-day is December the sixth--a holiday."

"A holiday!" Randall stared, as in the morning Herbert had stared.

"With me.... Another reason is that I've been an under dog myself for a very long time and--perhaps, though, I am mistaken."

"No, I'm one of the breed unquestionably."

"And under dogs have a fondness for each other instinctively."

Randall held his peace. He had the quality of presentiment and it was active now.

"There was still a third reason." No smile in the blue eyes now, just an impa.s.sive blank. "I had a call a few days ago from an upper dog, by heredity. He offered me a thousand dollars cold not to do--what I've just done."

Randall was not a good gambler. His face whitened to the lips.

"You refer to Margery's father," he said.

"Yes. It seemed to me well, under the circ.u.mstances, for you to know. He was strongly in favor of letting matters drift. I gathered he has never been particularly fond of you."

"No, never. But Margery--"

"I understand absolutely. Take this for what it is worth from a disinterested observer: Your wife is square, man, from the ground up.

Don't ever for an instant, because you were reared differently and have a different point of view, fancy otherwise. Tote your end of the load fair--I believe you see how now--and she'll tote hers. It'll be worth your while."

"Roberts!" Randall was upon his feet, he could not do otherwise.

"Honestly I don't know how to thank you. Anything that I can say, can do even--"

"Don't try, please. I'd rather you wouldn't." No pretence in that frank aversion, no affectation. He arose as one whose labor is over. "Let it go at that."

In sheer perplexity Randall frowned. His hands sought his pockets.

"But, confound it, I don't like to. It's so inhumanly ungrateful." The frown deepened. "Besides, when this intoxication is off I'll realize what a lot I'm accepting from you. That house, for instance. You didn't buy a place of that kind for an investment or for yourself alone. I'm not an absolute a.s.s. You'll want it all some of these times, and then--"

Slowly Roberts faced about; equally slowly he smiled.

"Would it relieve your mind any," he finally asked, "if I were to promise to tell you the moment I do want it--all?"

"Yes, a lot."

"I give you my word then."

"Thanks. I believe that too; but--"

For the second time Roberts smiled, the smile of finality unquestionable.

"Must we return and go through it all again?" he asked. "It's after midnight now, but if you wish--"

"No; not that either."

"All right. I'll send the office-boy around in the morning to help you move. He has nothing else really to do." Roberts paused at a sudden thought. "By the way, I'll not be back until a week from to-morrow.

Suppose we have a little housewarming, just we four--strangers, that night?" and before the other could answer, before the complex suggestion in its entirety took effect, he was gone.

CHAPTER IV

COMPREHENSION

It was three o'clock in the afternoon of a sultry July Sunday when a big red roadster drew up all but noiselessly and, with an instinct common to all motorists, a heritage from an equine age past, stopped at the nose of the hitching-post in front of the Gleason cottage. In it the single occupant throttled down the engine until it barely throbbed. Alighting, goggles on forehead, he pa.s.sed up the walk toward the house. Not until he was fairly at the steps did he apparently notice his surroundings. Then, unexpectedly, he bared his head.

"Be not surprised, it is I," he said. "Not in the spirit alone but in the flesh." Equally without warning he smiled. "Needless to say I'm glad to see you again, Elice," as he took the girl's offered hand. Then deliberately releasing it: "and you too, Armstrong," extending his own.

Precisely as, with his companion of the shady porch, he had risen upon the newcomer's advent, the other man stood there. If possible his face, already unnaturally pale for a torrid afternoon, shaded whiter as an instant pa.s.sed without his making a motion in response.

"And you too, Armstrong," Roberts repeated, the smile still on his face, the hand still extended; then, when there still came no response, the voice lowered until it was just audible, but nevertheless significant in its curt brevity: "Shake whether you want to or not. There are seven pairs of eyes watching from behind that trellis across the street."

Armstrong obeyed as though moved by a wire.

"Speak loud, so they can all hear. They're listening too," directed the low-voiced mentor.

Armstrong, red in the face now, formulated the conventional.

"Thanks." Roberts sat down on the top step, his big-boned body at ease, his great bushy head, in which the gray was beginning to sprinkle thick, a contrast to the dark pillar of the porch. "I just returned an hour ago," he added as casually as though food for gossip had not been avoided by a hair's breadth and was not still imminent. "It's good, unqualifiedly, to be back."

Armstrong returned to his seat, a bit uncertainly. His hands were trembling uncontrollably; in self-defence he thrust them deep into his pockets.

"Have you been out of town?" he asked.

"Yes, for over a month." No affectation in that even friendliness. He laughed suddenly in tolerant, all but impersonal, self-a.n.a.lysis. "And I'm tired--tired until the marrow of my bones aches." He laughed again. "It seems as though I never was so tired in my life."

Armstrong looked at him, in a sudden flash of the old confidence and admiration.

"I beg your pardon, then," he said hurriedly. "I didn't know that you had been away, of course, and rather fancied, from your coming so unexpected--And that again after two years almost--You can understand how it was possible, can't you? I'm ashamed."

"Certainly I can understand," easily. "Let's all forget it. I have already." He smiled an instant comprehensively fair into the blue eyes, then characteristically abruptly he digressed. "By the way, Elice," he said, "can't we have some of those cookies of yours? I've dreamed of them, along with other things, until--Do, please, if they're in stock. I mean it. Still down at Phelps's are you?" he asked the other directly when the girl had gone.

"No." A long pause wherein Armstrong did not look up. "I--left there a couple of weeks ago. I'm not doing anything in particular just now."