CHAPTER 9. AN EVENING CALL
"Says you're to come right up, Mr. Ridgway," the bell-hop reported, andafter he had pocketed his tip, went sliding off across the polishedfloor to answer another call.
The president of the Mesa Ore-producing Company turned with agood-humored smile to the chief clerk.
"You overwork your boys, Johnson. I wasn't through with that one. I'llhave to ask you to send another up to show me the Harley suite."
They passed muster under the eye of the chief detective, and, after thebell-boy had rung, were admitted to the private parlor where SimonHarley lay stretched on a lounge with his wife beside him. She had beenreading, evidently aloud and when her visitor was announced rose withher finger still keeping the place in the closed book.
The gaze she turned on him was of surprise, almost of alarm, so thatthe man on the threshold knew he was not expected.
"You received my card?" he asked quickly.
"No. Did you send one?" Then, with a little gesture of half-laughingirritation: "It must have gone to Mr. Harvey again. He is Mr. Harley'sprivate secretary, and ever since we arrived it has been a comedy oferrors. The hotel force refuses to differentiate."
"I must ask you to accept my regrets for an unintentional intrusion,Mrs. Harley. When I was told to come up, I could not guess that my cardhad gone amiss."
The great financier had got to his feet and now came forward withextended hand.
"Nevertheless we are glad to see you, Mr. Ridgway, and to get theopportunity to express our thanks for all that you have done for us."
The cool fingers of the younger man touched his lightly before they metthose of his wife.
"Yes, we are very glad, indeed, to see you, Mr. Ridgway," she added toher husband's welcome.
"I could not feel quite easy in my mind without hearing from your ownlips that you are none the worse for the adventures you have suffered,"their visitor explained after they had found seats.
"Thanks to you, my wife is quite herself again, Mr. Ridgway," Harleyannounced from the davenport. "Thanks also to God, who so mercifullyshelters us beneath the shadow of His wing."
But her caller preferred to force from Aline's own lips this affidavitof health. Even his audacity could not ignore his host entirely, but itgave him the least consideration possible. To the question which stillrested in his eyes the girl-wife answered shyly.
"Indeed, I am perfectly well. I have done nothing but sleep to-day andyesterday. Miss Yesler was very good to me. I do not know how I canrepay the great kindness of so many friends," she said with a swiftdescent of fluttering lashes to the soft cheeks upon which a faintcolor began to glow.
"Perhaps they find payment for the service in doing it for you," hesuggested.
"Yet, I shall take care not to forget it," Harley said pointedly.
"Indeed!" Ridgway put it with polite insolence, the hostility in hisface scarcely veiled.
"It has pleased Providence to multiply my portion so abundantly that Ican reward those well who serve me."
"At how much do you estimate Mrs. Harley's life?" his rival asked withquiet impudence.
In the course of the past two days Aline had made the discovery thather husband and her rescuer were at swords drawn in a business way.This had greatly distressed her, and in her innocence she had resolvedto bring them together. How could her inexperience know that she mightas well have tried to induce the lion and the lamb to lie down togetherpeaceably? Now she tried timidly to drift the conversation from theawkwardness into which Harley's suggestion of a reward and hisopponent's curt retort had blundered it.
"I hope you did not find upon your return that your business wasdisarranged so much as you feared it might be by your absence."
"I found my affairs in very good condition," Ridgway smiled. "But I amglad to be back in time to welcome to Mesa you--and Mr. Harley."
"It seems so strange a place," the girl ventured, with a hesitationthat showed her anxiety not to offend his local pride. "You see I neverbefore was in a place where there was no grass and nothing green insight. And to-night, when I looked out of the window and saw streams ofred-hot fire running down hills, I thought of Paradise Lost and Dante.I suppose it doesn't seem at all uncanny to you?"
"At night sometimes I still get that feeling, but I have to cultivateit a bit," he confessed. "My sober second thought insists that thosemolten rivers are merely business, refuse disgorged as lava from thegreat smelters."
"I looked for the sun to-day through the pall of sulphur smoke thathangs so heavy over the town, but instead I saw a London gas-lamphanging in the heavens. Is it always so bad?"
"Not when the drift of the wind is right. In fact, a day like this isquite unusual."
"I'm glad of that. I feel more cheerful in the sunshine. I know that'sa bit of the child still left in me. Mr. Harley takes all days alike."
The Wall Street operator was in slippers and house-jacket. His wife,too, was dressed comfortably in some soft clinging stuff. Their visitorsaw that they had disposed themselves for a quiet uninterrupted eveningby the fireside. The domesticity of it all stirred the envy in him. Hedid not want her to be contented and at peace with his enemy. Somethingdeeper than his vanity cried out in protest against it.
She was still making talk against the gloom of the sulphur fog whichseemed to have crept into the spirit of the room.
"We were reading before you came in, Mr. Ridgway. I suppose you read agood deal. Mr. Harley likes to have me read aloud to him when he istired."
An impulse came upon Ridgway to hear her, some such impulse as makes aman bite on sore tooth even though he knows he must pay later for it.
"Will you not go on with your reading? I should like to hear it. Ireally should."
She was a little taken aback, but she looked inquiringly at herhusband, who bowed silently.
"I was just beginning the fifty-ninth psalm. We have been reading thebook through. Mr. Harley finds great comfort in it," she explained.
Her eyes fell to the printed page and her clear, sweet voice took upthe ancient tale of vengeance.
"Deliver me from mine enemies, O my God: defend me from them that riseup against me. Deliver me from the workers of iniquity, and save mefrom bloody men.
"For, lo, they lie in wait for my soul: the mighty are gathered againstme; not for my transgression, nor for my sin, O Lord. They run andprepare themselves without my fault: awake to help me, and behold.
"Thou, therefore, O Lord God of Hosts, the God of Israel, awake tovisit all the heathen: be not merciful to any wicked transgressors.Selah."
Ridgway glanced across in surprise at the strong old man lying on thelounge. His hands were locked in front of him, and his gaze restedpeacefully on the fair face of the child reading. His foe's mind sweptup the insatiable cruel years that lay behind this man, and he marveledthat with such a past he could still hold fast to that simple faith ofDavid. He wondered whether this ruthless spoiler went back to the OldTestament for the justification of his life, or whether his credo hadgiven the impulse to his career. One thing he no longer doubted: SimonHarley believed his Bible implicitly and literally, and not only theNew Testament.
"For the sin of their mouth and the words of their lips even be takenin their pride: and for cursing and lying which they speak.
"Consume them in wrath, consume them, that they may not be: and letthem know that God ruleth in Jacob unto the ends of the earth."
The fresh young girlish voice died away into silence. Harley,apparently deep in meditation, gazed at the ceiling. His guest felt asurge of derision at this man who thought he had a compact with God torule the world for his benefit.
"I am sure Mr. Harley must enjoy the Psalms a great deal," he saidironically, but it was in simple faith the young wife answered eagerly:
"He does. He finds so much in them that is applicable to life."
"I can see how he might," agreed the young man.
"Few people take their religion so closely into their every-day livesas he does," s
he replied in a low voice, seeing that her husband waslost in thought.
"I am sure you are right."
"He is very greatly misunderstood, Mr. Ridgway. I am sure if peopleknew how good he is-- But how can they know when the newspapers are sofull of falsehoods about him? And the magazines are as bad, he says. Itseems to be the fashion to rake up bitter things to say about prominentbusiness men. You must have noticed it."
"Yes. I believe I have noticed that," he answered with a grim littlelaugh.
"Don't you think it could be explained to these writers? They can'tWANT to distort the truth. It must be they don't know."
"You must not take the muckrakers too seriously. They make a livingroasting us. A good deal of what they say is true in a way. Personally,I don't object to it much. It's a part of the penalty of beingsuccessful. That's how I look at it."
"Do they say bad things about you, too?" she asked in open-eyedsurprise.
"Occasionally," he smiled. "When they think I'm important enough."
"I don't see how they can," he heard her murmur to herself.
"Oh, most of what they say is true."
"Then I know it can't be very bad," she made haste to answer.
"You had better read it and see."
"I don't understand business at all," she said
"But--sometimes it almost frightens me. Business isn't really like war,is it?"
"A good deal like it. But that need not frighten you. All life is abattle--sometimes, at least. Success implies fighting."
"And does that in turn imply tragedy--for the loser?"
"Not if one is a good loser. We lose and make another start."
"But if success is a battle, it must be gained at the expense ofanother."
"Sometimes. But you must look at it in a big way." The secretary of thetrust magnate had come in and was in low-toned conversation with him.The visitor led her to the nearest window and drew back the curtains sothat they looked down on the lusty life of the turbid young city, atthe lights in the distant smelters and mills, at the great hillopposite, with its slagdumps, gallows-frames and shaft-houses blackagainst the dim light, which had yielded its millions and millions oftons of ore for the use of mankind. "All this had to be fought for. Itdidn't grow of itself. And because men fought for it, the place is whatit is. Sixty thousand people live here, fed by the results of thebattle. The highest wages in the world are paid the miners here. Theylive in rough comfort and plenty, whereas in the countries they camefrom they were underpaid and underfed. Is that not good?"
"Yes," she admitted.
"Life for you and for me must be different, thank God. You are in theworld to make for the happiness of those you meet. That is good. Butunless I am to run away from my work, what I do must make some unhappy.I can't help that if I am to do big things. When you hear peopletalking of the harm I do, you will remember what I have told youto-night, and you will think that a man and his work cannot be judgedby isolated fragments."
"Yes," she breathed softly, for she knew that this man was sayinggood-by to her and was making his apologia.
"And you will remember that no matter how bitter the fight may growbetween me and Mr. Harley, it has nothing to do with you. We shallstill be friends, though we may never meet again."
"I shall remember that, too," he heard her murmur.
"You have been hoping that Mr. Harley and I would be friends. That isimpossible. He came out here to crush me. For years his subordinateshave tried to do this and failed. I am the only man alive that has everresisted him successfully. I don't underestimate his power, which isgreater than any czar or emperor that ever lived, but I don't think hewill succeed. I shall win because I understand the forces against me.He will lose because he scorns those against him."
"I am sorry. Oh, I am so sorry," she wailed, gently as a breath ofsummer wind. For she saw now that the cleavage between them was toowide for a girl's efforts to bridge.
"That I am going to win?" he smiled gravely.
"That you must be enemies; that he came here to ruin you, since you sayhe did."
"You need not be too hard on him for that. By his code I am afreebooter and a highwayman. Business offers legitimate ways ofrobbery, and I transgress them. His ways are not my ways, and mine arenot his, but it is only fair to say that his are the accepted ones."
"I don't understand it at all. You are both good men. I know you are.Surely you need not be enemies."
But she knew she could hope for no reassurance from the man beside her.
Presently she led him back across the big room to the fireplace nearwhere her husband lay. His secretary had gone, and he was lying restingon the lounge. He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Has Mr. Ridgwaybeen pointing out to you the places of interest?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, dear." The last word came hesitantly after the slightest ofpauses. "He says he must be going now."
The head of the greatest trust on earth got to his feet and smiledbenignantly as he shook hands with the departing guest. "I shall hopeto see you very soon and have a talk regarding business, Mr. Ridgway,"he said.
"Whenever you like, Mr. Harley." To the girl he said merely, "Goodnight," and was gone.
The old man put an arm affectionately across his young wife's shoulder.
"Shall we read another psalm, my dear? Or are you tired?"
She repressed the little shiver that ran through her before sheanswered wearily. "I am a little tired. If you don't mind I would liketo retire, please."
He saw her as far as the door of her apartments and left her with hermaid after he had kissed the cold cheek she dutifully turned toward him.
Ridgway of Montana (Story of To-Day, in Which the Hero Is Also the Villain) Page 9