The Lion and The Mouse: A Story Of American Life
Page 7
CHAPTER VII
The pier of the North German Lloyd Steamship Company, at Hoboken,fairly sizzled with bustle and excitement. The Kaiser Wilhelm hadarrived at Sandy Hook the previous evening and was now lying outin midstream. She would tie up at her dock within half an hour.Employes of the line, baggage masters, newspaper reporters, CustomHouse officers, policemen, detectives, truck drivers, expressmen,longshoremen, telegraph messengers and anxious friends of incomingpassengers surged back and forth in seemingly hopeless confusion.The shouting of orders, the rattling of cab wheels, the shriekingof whistles was deafening. From out in the river came the deeptoned blasts of the steamer's siren, in grotesque contrast withthe strident tooting of a dozen diminutive tugs which, puffing andsnorting, were slowly but surely coaxing the leviathan into herberth alongside the dock. The great vessel, spick and span after acoat of fresh paint hurriedly put on during the last day of thevoyage, bore no traces of gale, fog and stormy seas through whichshe had passed on her 3,000 mile run across the ocean. Conspicuouson the bridge, directing the docking operations, stood Capt.Hegermann, self satisfied and smiling, relieved that theresponsibilities of another trip were over, and at his side,sharing the honours, was the grizzled pilot who had brought theship safely through the dangers of Gedney's Channel, his shabbypea jacket, old slouch hat, top boots and unkempt beard standingout in sharp contrast with the immaculate white duck trousers, thewhite and gold caps and smart full dress uniforms of the ship'sofficers. The rails on the upper decks were seen to be lined withpassengers, all dressed in their shore going clothes, some wavinghandkerchiefs at friends they already recognized, all impatientlyawaiting the shipping of the gangplank.
Stott had come early. They had received word at Massapequa the daybefore that the steamer had been sighted off Fire Island and thatshe would be at her pier the next morning at 10 o'clock. Stottarrived at 9.30 and so found no difficulty in securing a frontposition among the small army of people, who, like himself, hadcome down to meet friends.
As the huge vessel swung round and drew closer, Stott easilypicked out Shirley. She was scanning eagerly through a binocularthe rows of upturned faces on the dock, and he noted that a lookof disappointment crossed her face at not finding the object ofher search. She turned and said something to a lady in black andto a man who stood at her side. Who they might be Stott had noidea. Fellow passengers, no doubt. One becomes so intimate onshipboard; it seems a friendship that must surely last a lifetime,whereas--the custom officers have not finished rummaging throughyour trunks when these easily-made steamer friends are alreadyforgotten. Presently Shirley took another look and her glass soonlighted on him. Instantly she recognized her father's old friend.She waved a handkerchief and Stott raised his hat. Then she turnedquickly and spoke again to her friends, whereupon they all movedin the direction of the gangplank, which was already beinglowered.
Shirley was one of the first to come ashore. Stott was waiting forher at the foot of the gangplank and she threw her arms round hisneck and kissed him. He had known her ever since she was a littletot in arms, and bystanders who noticed them meet had no doubtthat they were father and daughter. Shirley was deeply moved; agreat lump in her throat seemed to choke her utterance. So far shehad been able to bear up, but now that home was so near her heartfailed her. She had hoped to find her father on the dock. Why hadhe not come? Were things so bad then? She questioned Judge Stottanxiously, fearfully.
He reassured her. Both her mother and father were well. It was toolong a trip for them to make, so he had volunteered.
"Too long a trip," echoed Shirley puzzled. "This is not far fromour house. Madison Avenue is no distance. That could not have keptfather away."
"You don't live on Madison Avenue any longer. The house and itscontents have been sold," replied Stott gravely, and in a fewwords he outlined the situation as it was.
Shirley listened quietly to the end and only the increasing pallorof her face and an occasional nervous twitching at the corner ofher mouth betrayed the shock that this recital of her father'smisfortunes was to her. Ah, this she had little dreamed of! Yetwhy not? It was but logic. When wrecked in reputation, one mightas well be wrecked in fortune, too. What would their future be,how could that proud, sensitive man her father bear thishumiliation, this disgrace? To be condemned to a life ofobscurity, social ostracism, and genteel poverty! Oh, the thoughtwas unendurable! She herself could earn money, of course. If herliterary work did not bring in enough, she could teach and whatshe earned would help out. Certainly her parents should never wantfor anything so long as she could supply it. She thought bitterlyhow futile now were plans of marriage, even if she had everentertained such an idea seriously. Henceforward, she did notbelong to herself. Her life must be devoted to clearing herfather's name. These reflections were suddenly interrupted by thevoice of Mrs. Blake calling out:
"Shirley, where have you been? We lost sight of you as we left theship, and we have been hunting for you ever since."
Her aunt, escorted by Jefferson Ryder, had gone direct to theCustoms desk and in the crush they had lost trace of her. Shirleyintroduced Stott.
"Aunt Milly, this is Judge Stott, a very old friend of father's.Mrs. Blake, my mother's sister. Mother will be surprised to seeher. They haven't met for ten years."
"This visit is going to be only a brief one," said Mrs. Blake. "Ireally came over to chaperone Shirley more than anything else."
"As if I needed chaperoning with Mr. Ryder for an escort!"retorted Shirley. Then presenting Jefferson to Stott she said:
"This is Mr. Jefferson Ryder--Judge Stott. Mr. Ryder has been verykind to me abroad."
The two men bowed and shook hands.
"Any relation to J.B.?" asked Stott good humouredly.
"His son--that's all," answered Jefferson laconically.
Stott now looked at the young man with more interest. Yes, therewas a resemblance, the same blue eyes, the righting jaw. But howon earth did Judge Rossmore's daughter come to be travelling inthe company of John Burkett Ryder's son? The more he thought of itthe more it puzzled him, and while he cogitated Shirley and hercompanions wrestled with the United States Customs, and wereundergoing all the tortures invented by Uncle Sam to punishAmericans for going abroad.
Shirley and Mrs. Blake were fortunate in securing an inspector whowas fairly reasonable. Of course, he did not for a moment believetheir solemn statement, already made on the ship, that they hadnothing dutiable, and he rummaged among the most intimate garmentsof their wardrobe in a wholly indecent and unjustifiable manner,but he was polite and they fared no worse than all the other womenvictims of this, the most brutal custom house inspection system inthe world.
Jefferson had the misfortune to be allotted an inspector who washalf seas over with liquor and the man was so insolent andthreatening in manner that it was only by great self-restraintthat Jefferson controlled himself. He had no wish to create ascandal on the dock, nor to furnish good "copy" for the keen-eyed,long-eared newspaper reporters who would be only too glad of suchan opportunity for a "scare head," But when the fellow compelledhim to open every trunk and valise and then put his grimy hands tothe bottom and by a quick upward movement jerked the entirecontents out on the dock he interfered:
"You are exceeding your authority," he exclaimed hotly. "How dareyou treat my things in this manner?"
The drunken uniformed brute raised his bloodshot, bleary eyes andtook Jefferson in from tip to toe. He clenched his fist as ifabout to resort to violence, but he was not so intoxicated as tobe quite blind to the fact that this passenger had massive squareshoulders, a determined jaw and probably a heavy arm. Socontenting himself with a sneer, he said:
"This ain't no country for blooming English dooks. You're not inEngland now you know. This is a free country. See?"
"I see this," replied Jefferson, furious "that you are a drunkenruffian and a disgrace to the uniform you wear. I shall reportyour conduct immediately," with which he proceeded to the Customsdesk to lodge a complaint.
He
might have spared himself the trouble. The silver haired,distinguished looking old officer in charge knew that Jefferson'scomplaint was well founded, he knew that this particular inspectorwas a drunkard and a discredit to the government which employedhim, but at the same time he also knew that political influencehad been behind his appointment and that it was unsafe to do morethan mildly reprimand him. When, therefore, he accompaniedJefferson to the spot where the contents of the trunks layscattered in confusion all over the dock, he merely expostulatedwith the officer, who made some insolent reply. Seeing that it wasuseless to lose further time, Jefferson repacked his trunks asbest he could and got them on a cab. Then he hurried over toShirley's party and found them already about to leave the pier.
"Come and see us, Jeff," whispered Shirley as their cab drovethrough the gates.
"Where," he asked, "Madison Avenue?"
She hesitated for a moment and then replied quickly:
"No, we are stopping down on Long Island for the Summer--at a cutelittle place called Massapequa. Run down and see us."
He raised his hat and the cab drove on.