Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “Come, come, Will!” cried Mr. Williams, springing up to lay a kindly hand upon the youth’s shoulder. “Don’t let us haggle over a price. You’re worth the sum I offer, and much more, to me. So take it, and let’s call the matter settled.”

  “As you like, sir,” answered Will, feeling rather helpless between his two friends. “I am very grateful to you both for all your kindness to me, and I’ll do anything you say I ought to do.”

  “Good!” growled the doctor, approvingly. “We’ll put you through your paces, all right.”

  Mr. Williams laughed, and his laugh was always a pleasant one.

  “And now,” said he, “I will tell you why I am anxious to investigate the business of the Atlas company, which threatens me with a dangerous competition.”

  The conference lasted until a late hour, and when it was ended Will understood perfectly what was required of him, and undertook to discover, if possible, where the English concern obtained the secret of the Carden process for making forge steel.

  “When shall I go, sir?” he finally asked.

  “As soon as possible. Within a week, if you can get away. Steamers sail nearly every day, at this season.”

  “How will next Wednesday do?” inquired Will, after a moment’s thought.

  “Excellently,” returned Mr. Williams. “I will send you money and further instructions to your home, for Mr. Jordan must not suspect you are in my employ. It will be best for you to confide in no one but your mother and Doctor Meigs. Merely tell your brother and sister, or any other inquirers, that you are going East.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  One can imagine the eager anticipation that controlled Will Carden during the next few days. He ordered a new suit of clothes from the local tailor, and the doctor helped him to select a suitable outfit for his travel. Although he had never been farther away from Bingham than the city, which was twenty-two miles distant, Will had no fears of his ability to take good care of himself. He might appear a trifle “green” to experienced travellers, he admitted; but at his age any well balanced youth has ample self-command and judgment, so that he anticipated nothing but pleasure during the next busy month or two.

  Only one thing grieved him. He would be away during Annabel’s vacation, and the young folks had laid many plans to be together during this time. But he left with Mr. Williams a note for the girl, telling her this was a business matter of her father’s that could not be delayed, and begging her not to forget him during his absence. Singularly enough, neither he nor Annabel saw anything humorous in this request.

  Then, just at the last minute, Mr. Williams entrusted to him another errand that was not wholly agreeable. Letters had come from Mrs. Williams that she was about to return home, being much improved in health; and her husband asked Will to proceed directly from Liverpool to London, there to meet Mrs. Williams at the Savoy Hotel and escort her to her steamer: Will was to see her safely started toward America before proceeding to Birmingham upon his more important mission.

  At last he was off, and so novel was his journey that he enjoyed even the tedious trip to New York. The Eastern agent of Mr. Williams met him on his arrival at the great metropolis, and after a day’s delightful sight-seeing with the good-natured agent as guide, Will was deposited safely aboard the big Cunarder that was to bear him over the vast expanse of the ocean.

  Here was a change, indeed, in Will Carden’s fortunes. From “vegetable boy” to “special messenger to Europe” seemed like an abrupt transition, and often as he walked the deck he wondered if it were all a dream, and he would presently awaken in his bed at home. But then his better judgment would inform him that there was nothing so very remarkable in his good fortune, after all. With a good friend such as Dr. Meigs, a fortunate opportunity to save the life of a millionaire’s daughter, and the inheritance of an honorable name, much more than this might happen to a young fellow. Will had been in line for promotion, that was all; but he resolved to prove worthy, that his friends might not regret their confidence in him.

  There is an old saying that “to be worthy of good fortune is to invite good fortune,” and there is much wisdom in the adage. The worthy do not always prove fortunate, it is true; but fortune is not so blind and fickle as we are sometimes led to believe, and sterling worth is a magnet that frequently attracts it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MY LADY IS GRACIOUS

  THE bustle and confusion of landing filled Will with eager joy. It is truly an experience of moment to any one, so it is not wonderful that our youth, fresh from a country town, should thrill with excitement at this first glimpse of a foreign land. But he did not lose his head, and managed to rescue his small trunk from the mass of baggage tumbled upon the quay, and to get it transported to the railway station.

  Then the train whirled him away, and with bustling Liverpool behind him he had mighty London to look forward to — the “City of Cities” in the eyes of all civilized humanity.

  By dint of intelligent inquiry on shipboard he now knew exactly how to act. Once arrived at the terminal station he took a cab for the Savoy Hotel, where Mr. Williams had requested him to take a room. He met with one disappointment, in finding that Mrs. Williams had not yet arrived, for according to her letter she should have been at the Savoy some days since, and Mr. Williams had cabled her to await there Will’s arrival.

  However, there was nothing to do but await the lady’s appearance; so he went to his room, removed all traces of travel, and descended to obtain his first serene view of the world’s metropolis. He found a near-by restaurant, at which he dined most luxuriously, but grieved at sight of his bill. Dr. Meigs had impressed upon him the fact that Mr. Williams had millions at his disposal, and therefore his confidential agent’s expenses need not be in any way curtailed. Mr. Williams had himself informed the young man that so long as Will acted as his representative he must live in a style befitting his employer’s position in the world.

  “Do exactly as you think I would do myself, were I — making the trip in person,” he said.

  So Will, although conscious of reckless extravagance from his own viewpoint, determined not to hesitate to spend Mr. Williams’ money freely in providing a respectable living; but it startled him to find how much was actually required to live in London in the same way that others did with whom he was constantly thrown in contact.

  After dinner he decided to attend an opera, a species of entertainment he had never before witnessed; but he contented himself with a seat obtained for the most modest sum the bills quoted. Being extremely fond of music, and of a naturally artistic and appreciative mind, the inexperienced boy found in the opera a veritable fairyland, and his dreams that night were filled with fantastic creations called up by the gorgeous spectacle he had beheld and the ravishing strains of music he had listened to. He realized he was getting a tremendous lot of experience in a very sudden manner, and it kept him keyed up to a high pitch of nervous tension until he became more accustomed to the novelty of existence in a great city.

  Next morning he inquired for Mrs. Williams again, only to find she had not yet arrived.

  “She should have been here several days ago,” he said to the registry clerk, in an anxious voice.

  “Where was she coming from, sir?” the man inquired.

  “Paris, I believe.”

  “Then I beg you not to worry,” returned the clerk, with a reassuring smile; “for most ladies find it a difficult matter to leave Paris, and frequently they linger there many days after they have planned to depart. Be patient, sir; and if the lady delays too long we will make inquiries for you in Paris.”

  That relieved Will’s anxiety to an extent, for he could easily understand how a woman of Mrs. Williams’ temperament would be likely to forget she was overdue in London, so long as the charms of Paris amused her.

  His instructions were to await her at this hotel, so he decided to give her three days more of grace, and if she did not then arrive to cable his employer for advice how to ac
t.

  Will knew, in a general way, what he most cared to see in London, for he was as intelligent as the average American high school boy, and although he had never in his wildest dreams expected to go abroad, had stored up a mass of general information that was now very useful to draw upon. So, with the aid of a guide-book, he found his way to the Tower, the House of Parliament, and Westminster Abbey, returning toward evening to his hotel with the uncomfortable feeling that should Mrs. Williams have arrived in his absence she would surely be annoyed by his neglect.

  But the clerk met his inquiry with a shake of the head, and relieved his fears.

  Next day he visited St. Paul’s and stood before the tombs of Wellington, Nelson and other great men whose names were familiar in history. And then he mounted the top of an omnibus and rode for miles through the busy thoroughfares, until the immensity of the city overpowered him, and half bewildered he returned to his hotel to rest and collect his thoughts. It was a famous opportunity for a boy like Will Carden to take advantage of and those two days of waiting gave him experience that furnished him with pleasant recollections in all the years to come.

  That evening he saw Henry Irving enact King Lear, and learned a lesson he never forgot. When on the following morning he came down to the office, the clerk informed him that Mrs. Williams had telegraphed she would arrive at ten o’clock, so he need have no further anxiety.

  He watched her arrival, with two maids, a mountain of trunks and a dozen servants impressed at the entrance to carry parcels, wraps and miscellaneous articles of all descriptions; but the sight deterred him from approaching her until she was settled in her suite of rooms.

  Then he sent up a card and received an answer that Mrs. Williams would see Mr. Carden at one o’clock. The tedious wait made him nervous and disconcerted, so that when the important hour arrived and he was shown to the great lady’s apartments he realized that he was not likely to create a very favorable impression.

  Nor did he.

  Mrs. Williams was reclining upon a couch, but she arose languidly and examined him through a little eyeglass, saying afterward in mincing tones:

  “Dear me! Isn’t it the vegetable boy?”

  “Yes’m,” said Will, shamefaced and awkward.

  “I have been wondering whom it could be that Mr. Williams cabled would meet me here. The name was unknown to me. What are you, a valet?”

  “Hardly that, madam,” replied Will, with a hearty, boyish laugh; and surely that laugh must have made a favorable impression upon the lady, for she lowered her eyeglass and murmured “I have been from home so long that I am ignorant of present conditions there. But you seem to have grown bigger, and — and — older.”

  “Naturally, madam,” said he; and then he added, with an assumption of such dignity as he could command under the circumstances: “I have the honor to be your husband’s confidential agent, abroad upon business matters. For this reason Mr. Williams thought it best that I should meet you here and offer such services as I may be able to render you.”

  “To be sure,” she said, musingly; “and it was very thoughtful of him. If I remember rightly, you were the boy that carried Annabel home the day she fell into the pond.”

  He bowed.

  “I am glad to see, Mrs. Williams, that you seem to have quite recovered your good health,” he observed, to get away from the subject.

  “Not quite, sir,” she answered, in a more cordial tone; “but I am much better than when I first came from America. Won’t you sit down?” noting that he was still standing. “And now, please tell me how you left my children. Were they well? Are they growing? Really, I shall be glad to see them again after this long separation.”

  Will had his own ideas about the interest the woman took in her children; but it was a subject very interesting to him personally, so he chatted away in his usual bright manner, relating the progress of his friends and play-mates and adding such gossip of

  Bingham as he thought might interest his listener.

  And Mrs. Williams began to approve more and more of the pleasant young man before her.

  “Are you returning home with me?” she asked, presently.

  “I’m afraid not. I have business in Birmingham that may detain me for some time,” he replied.

  She seemed really disappointed.

  “I hate London,” said she, wearily, “so I shall take the first steamer home. You will look it up for me, tomorrow, and make arrangements?”

  “With great pleasure, madam.”

  And you must dine with me this evening. I will meet you in the pink salon at half past seven, and we will go to the main restaurant.”

  “Thank you, madam,” he said, filled with a sense of depression at the very idea of dining with the great lady.

  As he rose to go she added, as if by an afterthought:

  “You will, of course, appear in full dress, Mr. Carden. Until then, au revoir.”

  With a bow he was dismissed, and as he stumbled into the hall and the maid closed the door behind him, he remembered that a fulldress suit was something he did not possess.

  Really, he ought to go back and tell her so; but the very thought of doing this made him panic-stricken, and instead he went down stairs to get some luncheon and think over his predicament.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A DINNER IN A DRESS SUIT

  ON HIS WAY Will passed the ladies’ restaurant, and noted the handsome toilets of its occupants with something of a shock. Mrs. Williams would doubtless be elaborately gowned that evening, and of course he ought to be in full dress also. What an absurd situation to confront a poor country boy, who had been so proud of the new suit the Bingham tailor had provided him with! Will Carden in a “swallowtail!” The very thought made him smile — and then shudder. Whatever should he do?

  The gentlemen’s lunch room was rather full, but the courteous usher asked permission of a guest who sat at a small table in one corner, and then seated Will opposite him.

  The gentleman was reading a newspaper, and merely glanced at the new arrival. Will could see that he had a big, impressive figure, a close-cropped beard of iron-gray, and an expression upon his face that was grave yet kindly.

  Having made this cursory inspection, he gave his simple order to the waiter and then relapsed into moody abstraction. That dreadful dress suit haunted him like some malignant demon. If he made an excuse to cancel the engagement Mrs. Williams would be offended; if he appeared in his ordinary clothes she would be more offended still. And now that she had begun to treat him with some slight consideration he disliked to do anything to forfeit her respect or good will.

  “Something disagreeable, sir?” asked a pleasant voice.

  The gentleman had laid down his paper and was engaged in eating his luncheon. As he spoke he glanced at Will with a smile, which the boy returned, feeling rather ashamed of his depression because of so trivial a matter.

  “Something quite disagreeable, as you observe, sir,” he answered.

  “You are an American?”

  “Yes, sir. And you?”

  A shadow crossed the gentleman’s face.

  “Formerly I lived in the States. But I am quite English, now, although I have never ceased to love my native land. That is why I ventured to speak to a young man who is so evidently an American. Can I be of any assistance to you?”

  Will laughed.

  “To be frank with you, my tribulation is caused merely by a lack of a dress suit,” said he. “I must dine with a lady a very ‘swell’ lady, sir, tonight, and I — possess only the clothes you behold.”

  “You have lost your baggage?”

  “No, sir; I never have owned a dress suit. Indeed, these are the best clothes I have, and had not the lady asked me to dine with her I should have considered them equal to all my requirements.”

  “What part of America are you from?”

  “A little town called Bingham.”

  The man gave a sudden start, and moved his lips as if about to speak. But, no w
ords came, and closing his jaws firmly together, as if to repress the impulse, he leaned back in his chair and gazed at Will with a look that was more pathetic than curious.

  The boy scarcely noticed the interruption. He rambled on, explaining that he was sent abroad on business by a Mr. Williams, and was only staying in London to see the wife of his employer aboard the steamer on her way home.

  It was cruel, he protested, for her to ask him to dine with her in a fashionable hotel, knowing as she did his station in life, and still more cruel to ask him to appear in a dress suit.

  Of all this, and much more, he talked as he ate his luncheon, and the gentleman listened in grave silence, but most attentively.

  After the meal was finished he asked:

  “Have you money?”

  “Yes, sir; plenty.”

  “Then I believe I shall be able to relieve your embarrassment, if you will walk with me a few doors down the street.”

  “I shall be very grateful, sir.”

  The gentleman arose to leave the cafe, and Will noticed that the waiters and ushers all bowed with profound deference as he passed out. But that was not singular. The most careless observer could not fail to be impressed by his new friend’s dignified bearing.

  On the street he nodded to several acquaintances and tipped his hat gracefully to a lady who rode by in a handsome equipage. Will was quite proud of his companion, who was evidently a person of importance.

  But now they turned into a fashionable tailor shop, and the proprietor was bowing and scraping most humbly before the gray-haired gentleman, who beckoned him aside.

  Will did not hear the conversation that ensued, but the tailor rubbed his hands together complacently and nodded so often that the boy wondered he did not dislocate his neck.

  “He will fit you out, all right, and send you the suit in ample time,” said the gentleman, returning to Will’s side. “And now, if there is no way I can be of further assistance to you, permit me to bid you good day.”

  “Thank you very much, sir.”