to be in your pocket."
"I can," said Mr. Billings, "and I will."
"You had better," said Mrs. Billings.
III. THE TWELVE ACORNS AND THE LADY'S HANDKERCHIEF
You may have noticed, my dear (said Mr. Billings), that the initials onthat handkerchief are "T. M. C.," and I wish you to keep that in mind,for it has a great deal to do with this story. Had they been anythingelse that handkerchief would not have found its way into my pocket; andwhen you see how those acorns and that handkerchief, and the half-fillednursing-bottle and the auburn-red curls all combined to keep me out ofmy home until the unearthly hour of three A. M., you will forget theunjust suspicions which I too sadly fear you now hold against me, andyou will admit that a half-filled patent nursing-bottle, a trio ofcurls, a lady's handkerchief and twelve acorns were the most naturalthings in the world to find in my pockets.
When I had left the poor woman with her no-longer-starving baby Ihurriedly glanced into a store window, and by the clock there saw itwas twenty minutes of one and that I had exactly time to catch the oneo'clock train, which is the last train that runs to Westcote. I glancedup and down the street, but not a car was in sight, and I knew I couldnot afford to wait long if I wished to catch that train. There was butone thing to do, and that was to take a cab, and, as luck would haveit, at that moment an automobile cab came rapidly around the corner. Iraised my voice and my arm, and the driver saw or heard me, for he madea quick turn in the street and drew up at the curb beside me. I hastilygave him the directions, jumped in and slammed the door shut, and theauto-cab immediately started forward at what seemed to me unsafe speed.
We had not gone far when something in the fore part of the automobilebegan to thump in a most alarming manner, and the driver slackened hisspeed, drew up to the curb and stopped. He opened the door and put hishead in.
"Something's gone wrong," he said, "but don't you worry. I'll have itfixed in no time, and then I can put on more speed and I'll get youthere in just the same time as if nothing had happened."
When he said this I was perfectly satisfied, for he was a nice-lookingman, and I lay back, for I was quite tired out, it was so long past myusual bedtime; and the driver went to work, doing things I could notunderstand to the fore part of the automobile, where the machinery is.I remember thinking that the cushions of this automobile were unusuallysoft, and then I must have dozed off, and when I opened my eyes I didnot know how much time had elapsed, but the driver was still at workand I could hear him swearing. He seemed to be having a great deal oftrouble, so I got out of the automobile, intending to tell him thatperhaps I had better try to get a car, after all. But his actions whenhe saw me were most unexpected. He waved the wrench he held in his hand,and ordered me to get back into the automobile, and I did. I supposedhe was afraid he would lose his fare and tip, but in a few minutes heopened the door again and spoke to me.
"Now, sport," he said, "there ain't no use thinkin' about gettin' thattrain, because it's gone, and I may as well say now that you've got tocome with me, unless you want me to smash your head in. The fact is,this ain't no public automobile, and I hadn't no right to take you fora passenger. This automobile belongs to a lady and I'm her hiredchauffeur, and she's at a bridge-whist party in a house on Fifth Avenue,and I'm supposed to be waiting outside that house. One-fifteen o'clockwas the time she said she would be out. But I thought maybe I might makea dollar or two for myself instead of waiting there all that time, andshe would never know it. And now it is nearly two o'clock, and if Igo back alone she will be raving mad, and I'll get my discharge and noreferences, and my poor wife and six children will have to starve. Soyou will have to go with me and explain how it was that I wasn't thereat one-fifteen o'clock."
"My friend," I said, "I am sorry for you, but I do not see how it wouldhelp you, should I refuse to go and you should, as you say, smash myhead in."
"Don't you worry none about that," he said. "If I smashed your head in,as I could do easy enough with this wrench, I'd take what was left ofyou up some dark street, and lay you on the pavement and run the machineacross you once or twice, and then take you to a hospital, and thatwould be excuse enough. You'd be another 'Killed by an Automobile,' andI'd be the hero that picked you up and took you to the hospital."
"Well," I said, "under the circumstances I shall go with you, notbecause you threaten me, but because your poor wife and six children arethreatened with starvation."
"Good!" he said. "And now all you have to do is to think of what theexcuse you will give my lady boss will be."
With that he lay back against the cushions and waited. He seemed to feelthat the matter did not concern him any more, and that the rest of itlay with me.
"Go ahead!" I said to him. "I have no idea what I shall tell yourmistress, but since I have lost the last train I must try to catch thetwo o'clock trolley car to Westeote, and I do not wish to spend any moretime than necessary on this business. Make all the haste possible, andas we go I shall think what I will say when we get there."
The driver got out and took his seat and started the car. I was worried,indeed, my dear. I tried to think of something plausible to tell theyoung man's employer; something that would have an air of self-proof,when suddenly I remembered the half-filled nursing-bottle and the threeauburn-red curls. Why should I not tell the lady that a poor mother,while proceeding down Fifth Avenue from her scrub-woman job, had beentaken suddenly ill, and that I, being near, had insisted that thisautomobile help me convey the woman to her home, which we found, alas!to be in the farthest districts of Brooklyn? Then I would produce thethree auburn-red curls and the half-filled nursing-bottle as having beenleft in the automobile by the woman, and this proof would suffice.
I had fully decided on this when the automobile stopped in front of alarge house in Fifth Avenue, and I had time to tell the driver thatI had thought of the proper thing to say, but that was all, for thewaiting lady came down the steps in great anger, and was about to begina good scolding, when she noticed me sitting in her automobile.
If she had been angry before she was now furious, and she was the kindof young woman who can be extremely furious when she tries. I thinknothing in the world could have calmed her had she not caught sight ofmy face by the light of two strong lamps on a passing automobile. Shesaw in my face what you see there now, my dear--the benevolent, fatherlyface of a settled-down, trustworthy, married man of past middle age--andas if by magic her anger fled and she burst into tears.
"Oh, sir!" she cried, "I do not know who you are, nor how you happento be in my car, but at this moment I am homeless and friendless. I amalone in the world, and I need advice. Let me get into the car besideyou--"
"Miss," I said, "I do not like to disoblige you, but I can never allowmyself to be in an automobile at this time of night with a strangewoman, unchaperoned."
These words seemed almost more than she could bear, and my heart wasfull of pity, but, just as I was about to spring from the automobile andrush away, I saw on the walk the poor woman to whose baby I had giventhe half of the contents of the patent nursing-bottle. I called her andmade her get into the automobile, and then I let the young woman enter.
"Now," I said, "where to?"
"That," she said, "is what I do not know. When I left my home thisevening I left it forever, and I left a note of farewell to my father,which he must have received and read by this time, and if I went back hewould turn me from the door in anger, for he is a gentleman of the oldschool."
When I heard these words I was startled. "Can it be," I asked, "that youhave a brother henry?"
"I have," she admitted; "Henry Corwin is his name." This was the name ofthe young man I had helped that very evening to marry Madge. I told herto proceed.
"My father," she said, "has been insisting that I marry a man I do notlove, and things have come to such a point that I must either accede ortake things into my own hands. I agreed to elope this evening with theman I love, for he had long wished me to elope with him. I was to meethim outside his house at
exactly one-fifteen o'clock, and I told himthat if I was not there promptly he might know I had changed my mind.When the time came for me to hasten to him in my automobile, which wasthen to hurry us to a waiting minister, my automobile was not here.Unfortunately I did not know my lover's address, for I had left it inthe card pocket in this automobile. I knew not what to do. As the timepassed and my automobile did not appear I knew that my lover had decidedthat I was not coming, and had gone away into his house. Now I cannot gohome, for I have no home. I cannot so lower my pride as to ring the bellof his house and say I wish to be forgiven and married even yet.
The Water Goats, and Other Troubles Page 7