CHAPTER V
MR. ARDMORE OFFICIALLY RECOGNIZED
"She never did it; she never, never did!"
Mr. Ardmore, from a bench in the State House park, thus concluded a longreverie. It was late afternoon, and he had forgotten luncheon in hisabsorption. There was no manner of use in recurring again to thatepisode of the lonely siding. He had found the girl--(indubitably thegirl)--but not the wink! Miss Jerry Dangerfield was not the winkingsort; he was well satisfied on that point, and so thoroughly ashamedinto the bargain that he resolved to lead a different life and be veryheedful of the cry of the poor in the future. His emotions had neverbeen taxed as to-day, and he hoped that he might never again suffer thetorture he had experienced as he waited in the governor's drawing-roomfor Miss Dangerfield to appear. After that agony it had been a positiverelief to be ordered out of the house. Her anger when she caught himlying about having met her father in New Orleans was superior to anysimulated rage he had ever seen on the stage, and no girl with a winkingeye would be capable of it. He was not clever; he knew that; but if hehad had the brains of a monkey he would not have risked his foolish witsagainst those of a girl like Geraldine Dangerfield, who had led him intoan ambush and then shot him to pieces.
"She threatened to have the servants throw me out!" he groaned. And herslight, tense figure rose before him, and her voice, still the voice ofyoung girlhood, rang in his ears. As she read the threatening messagefrom Kildare he had noted the fineness of her hands, the curve of herfair cheek, the wayward curls on her forehead, and he remembered allthese things now, but more than anything else her wrath, the tiny fists,the flashing eyes as she confronted him. As he sat dejectedly on hispark bench he was unaware that Miss Geraldine Dangerfield, walkinghurriedly through the park on her way from the governor's mansion to thestate house, passed directly behind him. His attitude was so eloquent ofdespair that it could not have failed to move a much harder heart thanthat of Miss Dangerfield, yet she made no sign; but a few minutes laterthe private secretary came out on the steps of the state house, andafter a brief survey of the landscape crossed the lawn and calledArdmore by name.
"I beg your pardon, but Miss Dangerfield wished me to say that she'dlike to see you for a minute. She's at the governor's office."
A prisoner, sentenced to death, and unexpectedly reprieved with the ropealready on his neck, could not experience greater relief than that whichbrought Mr. Thomas Ardmore to his feet.
"You are sure of it--that there's no mistake?"
"Certainly not. Miss Dangerfield told me I was to bring you back."
Enthroned at the secretary's desk, a mass of papers before her, MissGeraldine Dangerfield awaited him. He was ready to place his head on theblock in sheer contrition for his conduct, but she herself took theinitiative, and her tone was wholly amiable.
"This morning, Mr. Ardmore--"
"Oh, please forget this morning!" he pleaded.
"But I was rude to you; I threatened to have you thrown out of thehouse; and you had come to do us a favor."
"Miss Dangerfield, I can not lie to you. You are one of the mostdifficult persons to lie to that I have ever met. I didn't come toRaleigh just to warn your father that his life was threatened. I can'tlie to you about that--"
"Then you _are_ a spy?" and Miss Dangerfield started forward in herchair so suddenly that Ardmore dropped his hat.
"No! I am not a spy! I don't care anything about your father. I neverheard of him until yesterday."
"Well, I like that!" ejaculated Miss Dangerfield.
"Oh, I mean that I wasn't interested in him--why should I be? I don'tknow anything about politics."
"Neither does father. That's why he's governor. If he were a politicianhe'd be a senator. But"--and she folded her hands and eyed himsearchingly--"here's a lot of telegrams from the sheriff of DilwellCounty about that jug. How on earth did you come to get it?"
"Lied, of course. I allowed them to think I was intimately associated inbusiness with the governor, and they began passing me jugs. Then the manwho gave the jug with that message in the cork got suspicious, and Idropped the buttermilk jug back to him."
"You traded buttermilk for moonshine?"
"I shouldn't exactly call it moonshine. It's more like dynamite thananything else. I've written a reply to the note and put it back in thecork, and I'm going to return it to Kildare."
"What answer did you make to that infamous effort to intimidate myfather?" demanded Miss Dangerfield.
"I told the Appleweight gang that they are a lot of cowards, and thatthe governor will have them all in jail or hanged within ten days."
"Splendid! Perfectly _splendid_! Did you really say that?"
"What else could I do? I knew that that's what the governor wouldsay--he'd have to say it--so I thought I'd save him the trouble."
"Where's the jug now, Mr. Ardmore?"
"In my room at the hotel. The gang must have somebody on guard here. Agentleman who seemed to be one of them called on me this morning,demanding the jug; and if he's the man I think he is, he's stolen thelittle brown jug from my room in the hotel by this time."
Miss Dangerfield had picked up a spool of red tape and was unwinding itslowly in her fingers and rewinding it. They were such nice littlehands, and so peaceful in their aimless trifling with the tape that hewas sure his eyes had betrayed him into imagining she had clenched themin the quiet drawing-room at the mansion. This office, now that itsatmosphere enveloped him, was almost as domestic as the house in whichshe lived. The secretary had vanished, and a Sabbath quiet was on theplace. The white inner shutters swung open, affording a charmingprospect of the trees, the lawn and the monument in the park outside.And, pleasantest of all, and most soothing to his weary senses, she wastolerating him now; she had even expressed approval of something he haddone, and he had never hoped for this. She had not even pressed him todisclose his real purpose in visiting Raleigh, and he prayed that shewould not return to this subject, for he had utterly lost the conceit ofhis own lying gift. Miss Dangerfield threw down the spool of tape andbent toward him gravely.
"Mr. Ardmore, can you keep a secret?"
"Nobody ever tried me with one, but I think I can, Miss Dangerfield," hemurmured humbly.
"Then please stand up."
And Ardmore rose, a little sheepishly, like a schoolboy who fears blameand praise alike. Miss Dangerfield lifted one of the adorable handssolemnly.
"I, acting governor of North Carolina, hereby appoint you my privatesecretary, and may God have mercy on your soul. You may now sit down,Mr. Secretary."
"But I thought there was a secretary already. And besides, I don't writea very good hand," Ardmore stammered.
"I am just sending Mr. Bassford to Atlanta to find papa. He's alreadygone, or will be pretty soon."
"But I thought your father would be home to-night."
Miss Dangerfield looked out of the open window upon the park, then intothe silent outer hall, to be sure she was not overheard.
"Papa will not be at home to-night, or probably to-morrow night, or thenight afterward. I'm not sure we'll wait next Christmas dinner forpapa."
"But of course you know where he is! It isn't possible--" and Ardmorestared in astonishment into Miss Dangerfield's tranquil blue eyes.
"It _is_ possible. Papa is ducking his official responsibilities. That'swhat's the matter with papa! And I guess they're enough to drive any maninto the woods. Just look at all this!"
Miss Dangerfield rested one of those diminutive hands of hers on thepile of documents, letters and telegrams the secretary had left behindhim; with a nod of the head she indicated the governor's desk in theinner room, and it, too, was piled high with documents.
"I supposed," faltered Ardmore, "that in the absence of the governor thelieutenant-governor would act. I think I read that once."
"You must have read it wrong, Mr. Ardmore. In North Carolina, in theabsence of the governor, I am governor! Don't look so shocked; when Isay I, I mean I--_me!_ Do you understand what I sa
id?"
"I heard what you said, Miss Dangerfield."
"I mean what I said, Mr. Ardmore. I have taken you into my confidencebecause I don't know you. I don't know anything about you. I don't wantto know anything about you. I'd be ashamed to ask anybody I know to helpme. The people of North Carolina must never know that the governor isabsent during times of great public peril. And if _you_ are afraid, Mr.Ardmore, you had better not accept the position."
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," blurted Ardmore.
"I'm not asking you--I _would_ not ask you--to do anything for me. I amasking you to do it for the Old North State. Our relations, Mr. Ardmore,will not be social, but purely official. Do you accept the terms?"
"I do; and I warn you now that I shall never resign."
"I have heard papa say that life is short and the tenure of officeuncertain. I can remove you at any time I please. Now do you understandthat this is a serious business? There's likely to be a lot of trouble,and no time for asking questions, so when I say it's so it's so."
"It's so," repeated Ardmore docilely.
"Now, here's the sheriff at Kildare, on our side of the line, who writesto say that he is powerless to catch Appleweight. He's afraid of thedark, that man! You see, the grand jury in Dilwell County--that'sKildare, you know--has indicted Appleweight as a common outlaw, but thegrand jurors were all friends of Appleweight and the indictment was onlyto satisfy law-and-order sentiment and appease the Woman's Civic Leagueof Raleigh. Now, papa doesn't--I mean _I_ don't want to offend thoseAppleweight people by meddling in this business. Papa wants GovernorOsborne to arrest Appleweight in South Carolina; but I don't believeGovernor Osborne will dare do anything about it. Now, Mr. Ardmore, I amnot going to have papa called a coward by anybody, particularly by SouthCarolina people, after what Governor Osborne said of our state."
"Why, what did he say?"
"He said in a speech at Charleston last winter that no people who frytheir meat can ever amount to anything, and he meant us! I can neverforgive him for that; besides, his daughter is the stuck-upest thing!And I'd like Barbara Osborne to tell me how _she_ got into the ColonialDames, and what call _she_ has to be inspector-general of theGranddaughters of the Mexican War; for I've heard my grandfatherDangerfield say many a time that old Colonel Osborne and his SouthCarolina regiment never did go outside of Charleston until the war wasover and the American army had come back home."
One tiny fist this time! Ardmore was sure of it. Her indignation againstthe Osbornes was so sincere, the pouting petulance to which itdiminished so like a child's, and the gravity of the offense so novel inhis simple experiences, that Ardmore was bound in chains before herspeech was finished. The little drawl with which she concluded gaveheightened significance to her last three words, so that it seemed thatall the veterans of the war with Mexico trudged by, bearing the flag ofNorth Carolina and no other banner.
"Governor Osborne is a contemptible ruffian," declared Ardmore withdeep feeling.
Miss Dangerfield nodded judicial approval, and settled back in her chairthe better to contemplate her new secretary, and said:
"I'm a Daughter of the Confederacy and a Colonial Dame. What are you?"
"I suppose you'll never speak to me again; papa sent three expensivesubstitutes to the Civil War."
"Three! Horrible!"
"Two of them deserted, and one fell into the Potomac on his way southand was drowned. I guess they didn't do you folks much harm."
"We'll forgive you that; but what did your ancestors do in theRevolution?"
"I'm ashamed to say that my great-grandfather was a poor guesser. Hedied during Washington's second administration still believing theRevolution a failure."
"Do you speak of the war of 1861 as the Rebellion or as the war betweenthe states? I advise you to be careful what you say," and Miss JerryDangerfield was severe.
"I don't believe I ever mentioned it either way, so I'm willing to takeyour word for it."
"The second form is correct, Mr. Ardmore. When well-bred Southernpeople say Rebellion they refer to the uprising of 1776 against theBritish oppressor."
"Good. I'm sure I shall never get them mixed. Now that you are thegovernor, what are you going to do first about Appleweight?"
"I've written--that is to say, papa wrote before he went away, a strongletter to Governor Osborne, complaining that Appleweight was hiding inSouth Carolina and running across the state line to rob and murderpeople in North Carolina. Papa told Governor Osborne that he must breakup the Appleweight crowd or he would do something about it himself. It'sa splendid letter; you would think that even a coward like GovernorOsborne would do something after getting such a letter."
"Didn't he answer the letter?"
"Answer it? He never got it! Papa didn't send it; that's the reason!Papa's the kindest man in the world, and he must have been afraid ofhurting Governor Osborne's feelings. He wrote the letter, expecting tosend it, but when he went off to New Orleans he told Mr. Bassford tohold it till he got back. He had even signed it--you can read it if youlike."
It was undoubtedly a vigorous epistle, and Ardmore felt the thrill ofits rhetorical sentences as he read. The official letter paper on whichit was typewritten, and the signature of William Dangerfield, governorof North Carolina, affixed in a bold hand, were sobering in themselves.The dignity and authority of one of the sovereign American states wasrepresented here, and he handed the paper back to Miss Dangerfield astenderly as though it had been the original draft of Magna Charta.
"It's a corker, all right."
"I don't much like the way it ends. It says, right here"--and she bentforward and pointed to the place under criticism--"it says, 'Trusting toyour sense of equity, and relying upon a continuance of the traditionalfriendship between your state and mine, I am, sir, awaiting your reply,very respectfully, your obedient servant.' Now, I wouldn't trust to hissense of anything, and that traditional friendship business is justfluffy nonsense, and I wouldn't be anybody's obedient servant. I decidedwhen I wasn't more than fifteen years old, with a lot of other girls inour school, that when we got married we'd never say obey, and we neverhave, though only three of our class are married yet, but we're allengaged."
"Engaged?"
"Of course; we're engaged. I'm engaged to Rutherford Gillingwater, theadjutant-general of this state. You couldn't be my private secretary ifI wasn't engaged; it wouldn't be proper."
The earth was only a flying cinder on which he strove for a foothold.She had announced her engagement to be married with a cool finality thattook his breath away; and not realizing the chaos into which she hadflung him, she returned demurely to the matter of the letter.
"We can't change that letter, because it's signed close to the 'obedientservant' and there's no room. But I'm going to put it into thetypewriter and add a postscript."
She sat down before the machine and inexpertly rolled the sheet intoplace; then, with Ardmore helping her to find the keys, she wrote:
I demand an imediate reply.
"_Demand_ and _immediate_ are both business words. Are you sure there'sonly one _m_ in immediate? All right, if you know. I reckon a postscriptlike that doesn't need to be signed. I'll just put 'W. D.' there withpapa's stub pen, so it will look really fierce. Now, you're thesecretary; you copy it in the copying press and I'll address theenvelope."
"Don't you have to put the state seal on it?" asked Ardmore.
"Of course not. You have to get that from the secretary of state, and Idon't like him; he has such funny whiskers, and calls me little girl.Besides, you never put the seal on a letter; it's only necessary forofficial documents."
She bade him give the letter plenty of time to copy, and talkedcheerfully while he waited. She spoke of her friends, as Southern peoplehave a way of doing, as though every one must of course know them--ahabit that is illuminative of that delightful Southern neighborlinessthat knits the elect of a commonwealth into a single family, thatneither time and tide nor sword and brand can destroy. Ardmore'
shumility increased as the names of the great and good of North Carolinafell from her lips; for they were as strange to him as an Abysinniandynasty. It was perfectly clear that he was not of her world, and thathis own was insignificant and undistinguished compared with hers. Hisspirit was stayed somewhat by the knowledge that he, and not theexecrable Gillingwater, had been chosen as her coadjutor in the presentcrisis. His very ignorance of the royal families of North Carolina,which she recited so glibly, and the fact that he was unknown at thecapital, had won him official recognition, and it was for him now toprove his worth. The political plot into which he had been mostwillingly drawn pleased him greatly; it was superior to his fondestdream of adventure, and now, moreover, he had what he never had before,a definite purpose in life, which was to be equal to the task to whichthis intrepid girl assigned him.
"Well, that's done," said Miss Jerry, when the letter, still damp fromthe copy-press, had been carefully sealed and stamped. "Governor Osbornewill get it in the morning. I think maybe we'd better telegraph him thatit's coming."
"I don't see much use in that, when he'll get the letter first thingto-morrow," Ardmore suggested. "It costs money to telegraph and you musthave an economical administration."
"The good of it would be to keep him worried and make him very angry.And if he told Barbara Osborne about it, it would make her angry, too,and maybe she wouldn't sleep any all night, the haughty thing! Hand meone of those telegraph blanks."
The message, slowly thumped out on the typewriter, and several timesaltered and copied, finally read:
RALEIGH, N. C. The Honorable Charles Osborne, Governor of South Carolina, Columbia, S. C.:
Have written by to-night's mail in Appleweight matter. Your vacillating course not understood.
WILLIAM DANGERFIELD, Governor of North Carolina.
"I reckon that will make him take notice;" and Miss Jerry viewed herwork with approval. "And now, Mr. Ardmore, here's a telegram from Mr.Billings which I don't understand. See if you know what it means."
Ardmore chuckled delightedly as he read:
Can not understand your outrageous conduct in bond matter. If payment is not made June first your state's credit is ruined. Where is Foster? Answer to Atlanta.
GEORGE P. BILLINGS.
"I don't see what's so funny about that! Mr. Bassford was walking thefloor with that message when I came to the office. He said papa and thestate were both going to be ruined. There's a quarter of a milliondollars to be paid on bonds that are coming due June first, and thereisn't any money to pay them with. That's what he said. And Mr. Fosteris the state treasurer, and he's gone fishing."
"Fishing?"
"He left word he had gone fishing. Mr. Foster and papa don't get alongtogether, and Mr. Bassford says he's run off just to let those bondsdefault and bring disgrace on papa and the state."
Ardmore's grin broadened. The Appleweight case was insignificantcompared with this new business with which he was confronted. He wasvaguely conscious that bonds have a way of coming due, and that there issuch a thing as credit in the world, and that it is something that mustnot be trifled with; but these considerations did not weigh heavily withhim. For the first time in his uneventful life vengeance unsheathed hersword in his tranquil soul. Billings had always treated him withcontempt, as a negligible factor in the Ardmore millions, and here atlast was an opportunity to balance accounts.
"I will show you how to fix Billings. Just let me have one of thoseblanks."
And after much labor, and with occasional suggestions from Miss Jerry,the following message was presently ready for the wires:
Your infamous imputation upon my honor and that of the state shall meet with the treatment it deserves. I defy you to do your worst. If you come into North Carolina or bring legal proceedings for the collection of your bonds I will fill you so full of buckshot that forty men will not be strong enough to carry you to your grave.
"Isn't that perfectly grand!" murmured Jerry admiringly. "But I thoughtyour family and the Bronx Loan and Trust Company were the same thing.That's what Rutherford Gillingwater told me once."
"You are quite right. Billings works for us. Before I came of age heused to make me ask his permission when I wanted to buy a new necktie,and when I was in college he was always fussing over my bills, andhumiliating me when he could."
"But you mustn't make him so mad that he will cause papa trouble andbring disgrace on our administration."
"Don't you worry about Billings. He is used to having people get down ontheir knees to him, and the change will do him good. When he gets overhis first stroke of apoplexy he will lock himself in a dark room andbegin to think hard about what to do. He usually does all the bluffing,and I don't suppose anybody ever talked to him like this telegram in allhis life. Where is this man Foster?"
"Just fishing; that's what Mr. Bassford said, but he didn't know where.Father was going to call a special session of the legislature toinvestigate him, and he was so angry that he ran off so that papa wouldhave to look after those bonds himself. Then this Appleweight case cameup, and that worried papa a great deal. Here's his call for the specialsession. He told Mr. Bassford to hold that, too, until he came back fromNew Orleans."
Ardmore read Governor Dangerfield's summons to the legislature withprofound interest. It was signed, but the space for the date on whichthe law-makers were to assemble had been left blank.
"It looks to me as though you had the whole state in your hands, MissDangerfield. But I don't believe we ought to call the special sessionjust yet. It would be sure to injure the state's credit, and it will bea lot more fun to catch Foster. I wonder if he took all the state moneywith him."
"Mr. Bassford said he didn't know and couldn't find out, for the clerksin the treasurer's office wouldn't tell him a single thing."
"One should never deal with subordinates," remarked Ardmore sagely."Deal with the principals--I heard a banker say that once, and he was aman who knew everything. Besides, it will be more fun to attend to thebonds ourselves."
He seemed lost in reverie for several minutes, and she asked with someimpatience what he was studying about.
"I was trying to think of a word they use when the government has war orany kind of trouble. It's something about a corpse, but I can't rememberit."
"A corpse? How perfectly horrid! Can it be possible, Mr. Ardmore, thatyou mean the writ of habeas corpus?" The twinkle in his eye left herunable to determine whether his ignorance was real, or assumed for hisown amusement.
"That's it," beamed Ardmore. "We've got to suspend it if worst comes toworst. Then you can put anybody you like into a dungeon, and nobody canget him out--not for a million years."
"I wonder where they keep it?" asked Jerry. "It must be here somewhere.Perhaps it's in the safe."
"I don't think it's a thing, like a lemon, or a photograph, or a bottleof ink; it's a document, like a Thanksgiving proclamation, and you orderout the militia, and the soldiers have to leave their work and assembleat their armories, and it's all very serious, and somebody is likely toget shot."
"I don't think it would be nice to shoot people," said Jerry. "Thatwould do the administration a terrible lot of harm."
"Of course we won't resort to extreme measures unless we are forced toit. And then, after we have exhausted all the means at our command, wecan call on the president to send United States troops."
He was proud of his knowledge, which had lingered in hissub-consciousness from a review of the military power of the stateswhich he had heard once from Griswold, who knew about such matters; buthe was brought to earth promptly enough.
"Mr. Ardmore, how dare you suggest that we call United States troopsinto North Carolina! Don't you know that would be an insult to everyloyal son of this state? I should have you know that the state of NorthCarolina is big enough to take care of herself, and if any president ofthe United States sends any troops down here while I'm running thisoffice, he'll find that, w
hile our people will gladly die, they neversurrender."
"Oh, I didn't mean anything like that by what I said," pleaded Ardmore,frightened almost to tears. "Of course, we've got our own troops, andwe'll get through all our business without calling for help. Ishouldn't any more call on the president than I'd call on the czar ofRussia."
She seemed satisfied with this disclaimer, and produced a diary in whichGovernor Dangerfield had noted his appointments far into the future.
"We'll have to break a lot of engagements for papa. Here's a speech hepromised to make at Wilmington at the laying of the corner-stone of thenew orphan asylum. That's to-morrow, and papa can't be there, so we'llsend a telegram of congratulation to be read instead. Then he was topreside at a convention of the Old Fiddlers' Association at Goldsborothe next day, and he can't do that. I guess we'd better telegraph andsay how sorry he is to be delayed by important official business. Andhere's--why, I had forgotten about the National Guard encampment, that'sbeginning now."
"Do you mean the state militia?" Ardmore inquired.
"Why, of course. They're having their annual encampment over in AzbellCounty at Camp Dangerfield--they always name the camp for thegovernor--and father was to visit the camp next Saturday for his annualinspection. That's near your county, where your farm is; didn't you knowthat?"
Ardmore was humble, as he always was when his ignorance was exposed,but his face brightened joyfully.
"You mustn't break that engagement. Those troops ought to be inspected.Inspecting his troops is one of the most important things a governor hasto do. It's just like a king or an emperor. I've seen Emperor Williamand King Humbert inspect their soldiers, and they go galloping by likemad, with all the soldiers saluting, and it's perfectly bully. And thenthere have to be maneuvers, to see whether the troops know how to fightor not, and forced marches and sham battles."
"Papa always speaks to the men," suggested Jerry, a little abashed bythe breadth and splendor of Ardmore's knowledge. His comparison of theNorth Carolina militia with the armies of Europe pleased her.
"I think the ladies of the royal family inspect the troops, too,sometimes," he continued. "The queens are always honorary colonels ofregiments, and present them with flags, which is a graceful thing todo."
"Colonel Gillingwater never told me that, and he's the adjutant-generalof the state and ought to know."
"What's he colonel of?" asked Ardmore gloomily.
"He was colonel in the Spanish War, or was going to be, but he gottyphoid fever, and so he couldn't go to Cuba, and papa appointed himadjutant-general as a reward for his services; but everybody calls himColonel just the same."
"It looks like a pretty easy way of getting a title," murmured Ardmore."I had typhoid fever once, and nearly died, and all my hair came out."
"You oughtn't to speak that way of my fiance. It's quite impertinent ina mere private secretary to talk so."
"I beg your pardon. I forgot that you were engaged. You'll have to go toCamp Dangerfield and inspect the troops yourself, and they would a lotrather have you inspect them than have your father do it."
"You mustn't say things like that! I thought I told you your appointmentcarried no social recognition. You mustn't talk to me as though I was agirl you really know--"
"But there's no use of making-believe such things when I do know you!"
"Not the least little tiny bit, you don't! Do you suppose, if you were agentleman I knew and had been introduced to, I would be talking to youhere in papa's office?"
"But I pretend to be a gentleman; you certainly wouldn't be talking tome if you thought me anything else."
"I can't even discuss the matter, Mr. Ardmore. A gentleman wouldn't lieto a lady."
"But if you know I'm a liar why are you telling me these secrets andasking me to help you play being governor?" and Ardmore, flounderinghopelessly, marveled at her more and more.
"That's exactly the reason--because you came poking up to my house andtold me that scandalous fib about meeting papa in New Orleans. Mr.Bassford is a beautiful liar; that's why he's papa's secretary; but youare a much more imaginative sort of liar than Mr. Bassford. He can onlylie to callers about papa being engaged, or write encouraging letters topeople who want appointments which papa never expects to make; but youlie because you can't help it. Now, if you're satisfied, you can takethose telegrams down to the telegraph office, and you'd better mail thatletter to Governor Osborne yourself, for fear the man who's running thelawn-mower will forget to come for it."
The roll of drums and the cry of a bugle broke in upon the peace of thelate afternoon. Miss Jerry rose with an exclamation and ran out into thebroad portico of the state house. Several battalions of a tide-waterregiment, passing through town on their way to Camp Dangerfield, hadtaken advantage of a wait in Raleigh to disembark and show themselves atthe capital. They were already halted and at parade rest at the side ofthe street, and a mounted officer in khaki, galloping madly into view,seemed to focus the eyes of the gathering crowd. He was a gallant figureof a man; his mount was an animal that realized Job's ideal of abattle-horse; the soldiers presented arms as the horseman rode the line.Miss Dangerfield waved her handkerchief, standing eagerly on tiptoe tomake her salutation carry as far as possible.
"Who is that?" asked Ardmore, with sinking spirit.
"Why, Rutherford Gillingwater, of course."
"Fours right!" rang the command a moment later, and the militiamentramped off to the station.
It was then that Ardmore, watching the crowd disperse at the edge of thepark, saw his caller of the morning striding rapidly across the street.Ardmore started forward, then checked himself so suddenly that MissJerry Dangerfield turned to him inquiringly.
"What's the matter?" she demanded.
"Nothing. I have been robbed, as I hoped to be. Over there on thesidewalk, beyond the girl in the pink sunbonnet, goes my little brownjug. That lank individual with the shabby hat has lifted it out of myroom at the hotel, just as I thought he would."
The Little Brown Jug at Kildare Page 5