The Ne'er-Do-Well

by Rex Beach

  XV

  ALIAS JEFFERSON LOCKE

  It was fortunate for Kirk, on the whole, that his last expedition hadproved a failure, for his methods were none of the most discreet; andit was as well, perhaps, that his work on the railroad intervened toprevent further wild incursions.

  He was detailed to ride No. 2, which left Panama at 6.35, returning onNo. 7, which arrived at 7.00 P.M. For a few days he made the run incompany with the train collector, whose position he was destined tofill; and, as the duties were by no means difficult, he quicklymastered them. He had quarters assigned to him, and regretfully tookleave of his luxurious room and bath at the Tivoli. He also donned capand linen uniform, and became an insignificant, brass-tagged unit inthe army of Canal workers. Ordinarily he would have resented this lossof individuality, but the novelty of the thing appealed to him, and hebrought a great good-nature to his work, deriving sufficient amusementfrom it to prevent it from growing tiresome.

  For a time it offended his fastidious taste to be forced to elbow hisway through superheated coaches jammed with shrieking, cackling,incoherent negroes. They were all utterly hysterical, and apparentlypossessed but one stubborn idea--to refuse payments of fares. But intime he grew to enjoy even this.

  He was glad of his new-found independence, moreover, for, though it didnot cancel his obligation to the Cortlandts, it made him feel it lesskeenly. As for his quarters, they were quite tolerable--about the sameas he had had at boarding-school, he reflected, and the meals werebetter. They were not quite up to Sherry's or Martin's, it was true,but they cost only thirty cents, and that had advantages. Certainly hecould not complain of a lack of incident in his new life. On his firsttrip to Colon and back he had nine disputes and two fights, and threwone man off--a record achievement, he was told, for a beginner.

  A further diversion was furnished by Allan, who appeared early in themorning and all but assaulted the gateman, who refused to let him passwithout a ticket. It took the entire station force to prevent him fromstarting for Colon as Kirk's guest. He considered it a matter of coursethat his friend should offer him the courtesies of the road, and hewent away at last, wofully disappointed but not discouraged.

  On the evening of that eventful day, instead of returning to his newquarters, Kirk proceeded to walk the streets in search of a certainface. He strolled through the plazas; he idled in front of the mostpretentious residences; he tramped wearily back and forth throughdim-lit, narrow streets, gazing up at windows and balconies, harkeningfor the tone of a voice or the sound of a girl's laughter. But he waswithout the slightest success, and it was very late when he finallyretired, to dream, as usual, of Chiquita.

  Several days passed, and he began to feel a little dull. He was makingno progress in his quest, and he did feel the lack of congenialsociety. Then one evening there came a note from Edith Cortlandtbriefly requesting him to come and see her.

  He was a little surprised, yet he was conscious of a certain relief. Hehad not felt like intruding upon her with further explanations andapologies; but since she wished him to come--perhaps they could meet,after all, in a natural way. He wanted to get rid of the wretchedmisunderstanding that lay between them. If he were to leave the countrythat night never to return, he would want to feel that he had parted ongood terms with the woman who had befriended him.

  Promptly at eight o'clock he presented himself.

  "I'm a laboring man now," he said, as he stood before her, "and Iusually hold my cap in my hand and shuffle my feet when talking toladies. Pray excuse my embarrassment."

  She did not respond to the lightness of his tone. Her glance seemedintended to warn him that she meant to be serious.

  "I suppose you are wondering why I sent for you," she remarked, after aperceptible interval, and Kirk felt instantly that their old relationscould not at once be resumed. "I have discovered something veryimportant, and I felt that you ought to know."

  "Thank you," said Kirk, humbly. "It was very kind."

  "You see," she went on, with a certain hesitancy, "you confided yourstory to me so frankly I felt under a certain obligation." She made alittle dramatic pause. "I've discovered who Jefferson Locke is!"

  "No! Who is he?" Kirk was instantly all attention, for the announcementcame as something of a shock. He had almost forgotten Locke.

  "His real name is Frank Wellar, and he is an absconder. He was abroker's clerk in St. Louis, and he made off with something like eightythousand dollars in cash."

  "Good heavens!" said Anthony. "How did you find out?"

  "A bundle of New York papers--they came to-day."

  "Where did they catch him?"

  "They haven't caught him. He has disappeared completely--that's thestrangest part of it. Your detective didn't die, after all."

  "He recovered, did he? I'm mighty glad of that."

  "Yes, but you aren't out of the woods yet. I can't understand why thepolice haven't discovered your whereabouts. You left New York openlyunder the name of Locke--"

  "Perhaps it was so easy they overlooked it." He smiled ruefully. "I'dhate to be arrested just now when I'm getting to be such a goodconductor."

  "Don't worry about that until the time comes. I'll get you the paperslater." She showed no immediate intention of rising, however, but satregarding her visitor with slightly heightened color. He began to feelembarrassed. It seemed to be his fate to receive benefits at thiswoman's hand, whether he willed it or not.

  He got to his feet with an effort, and said, looking down upon her:

  "I must go now; but first I want to make you feel how grateful I am foryour kindness and for your continued trust in me. I haven't deservedit, I know, but--" He turned as if to leave, but faced her again as heheard her pronounce his name. He was surprised to see that there weretears in her eyes.

  "Kirk," she said, "you're an awfully good sort, and I can't stay angrywith you. Do you know you've made it rather hard for me staying awayall this time?"

  "I thought you never wanted to see me again."

  "You shouldn't take so seriously what a woman says under suchcircumstances. It's embarrassing. It makes things seem worse than theyare." She hesitated, as if to emphasize the difficulty of such candor.

  Kirk said, gently:

  "Does that mean that we can forget all about it and be good friendsagain? Does it mean that you'll forgive me?"

  "I can't quite promise that," she answered. "But there is no need ofyour avoiding me; and it's absurd for you to feel as you do, that youcan't accept any little services from me that might help you in yourwork. I'm still interested in your success."

  "You're tremendously good," he answered, really touched. "I can't sayanything, except that I'll try to be worthy of your kindness."

  She gave him a half-distressed look, then smiled brightly.

  "We won't talk of it any more," she said--"ever. Now do sit down andtell me what you have been doing all this time. How have you beengetting along with your work?"

  "All right, except one morning when I overslept."

  "Overslept? Oh, Kirk!" she said, reproachfully.

  "You see, I never got up so early before, except to go duck-hunting,and this is different. Did you ever try rising at five-thirty--in themorning, I mean? You've no idea how it feels. Why, it's hardly light!You can't see to brush your teeth! I suggested to Runnels that we sendNo. 2 out at eight-thirty instead of six-thirty--that's early enoughfor anybody--but he didn't seem to take kindly to the thought."

  "What did he say when you reported?"

  "I didn't consider it proper to listen to all he said, so I retiredgracefully. From what I did hear, however, I gathered that he wasvaguely offended at something. I tried to explain that I had been outlate, but it didn't go."

  Edith laughed. "Perhaps I'd better telephone him."

  "Oh no, you needn't do that."

  "But surely you were called in time?"

  "Please don't. That's the first thing Runnels yodelled at me when Ishowed up. He's a nice fellow, but he's too serious; he lets l
ittlethings bother him. He'll cool off eventually."

  Time passed quickly in such an interchange of pleasant trivialities,and, although Kirk felt that he was making an unconscionably long call,he could not well leave while his hostess seemed bent on detaining him.It was late when he said good-night, and, after returning to hisquarters, with characteristic perversity he proceeded to sit up,smoking cigarette after cigarette, while he tried to set his thoughtsin order. He was grateful to Mrs. Cortlandt, and immensely pleased tolearn that the man injured in the affair in New York had not died. Butsomething must be done about Chiquita. That was the important thingnow. He wrestled with the problem for a long time in vain. He wasafraid to go to bed for fear of oversleeping again, and decided to stayup until train-time. But at length drowsiness overcame him, and for thefew remaining hours he dreamed lonesomely of an oval face and big,black, velvet eyes.

  He did not really miss his rest until the next afternoon, when the heatand the monotonous rumble of the train, together with its restfulswaying, sent him off into a delicious doze, from which he was awakenedby a brakeman barely in time to escape discovery. Thereafter hemaintained more regular habits, and while no one but the luxury-lovingyouth himself knew what effort it required to cut short his slumbers intheir sweetest part, he never missed his train, and in time the earlyhours ceased to be a hardship.

  In the days that followed he tried his very best to make good. Everyevening he had to himself he spent in search of the Spanish girl. Asidefrom his inability to find her, and an occasional moment of misgivingat the thought of Frank Wellar, alias Jefferson Locke, Kirk had but oneworry, and that was caused by Allan. Never a day passed that theworshipful black boy did not fairly hound him with his attentions;never a nightly journey down into the city that Allan did not eitheraccompany him or, failing permission to do so, follow him at a safedistance. For a time Anthony rebelled at this espionage, but theconstant effort of refusal grew tiresome after a while, especially asthe Jamaican did just as he pleased anyhow, and Kirk ended by lettinghim have his way. But this was not all. Allan insisted uponaccompanying his friend upon his daily runs back and forth across theIsthmus. At first he succeeded in slipping past the gateman in somemiraculous manner, and, once aboard the train, behaved as if free fromall further responsibility. He made it plain, in fact, that he wasAnthony's guest and boon companion, and considered the exchange ofmoney quite unnecessary, if not even insulting. Day after day Kirkargued with him, even threatening to throw him off; but Allan ignoredthe arguments with bland good-nature and looked upon the threats as thedisplay of an excruciating sense of humor. He continued to visit and togossip on terms of the closest intimacy, and began, moreover, toexercise a certain proprietary right over Kirk, following him throughthe train to see that no harm befell him, and seizing the slightestopportunity to engage him in conversation.

  Anthony explained time after time that there were probably spotters onthe run, and that this conduct was sure, sooner or later, to get themboth into trouble. To all of which Allan listened attentively andagreed with all earnestness. But the next morning invariably found himback again with some excuse.

  "I can't h'explain it, chief," he acknowledged, on one occasion. "Everyday swear I to cease, but it is of no h'avail. Ever you been in lovewith a female, sar?"

  "What has that to do with it?"

  "It is much the same. I can't h'allow you to leave me. I would die andkill myself, but--"

  "Rats!"

  "Yes, sar. It is very h'annoying, is it not?"

  "Do you want me to lose my job?"

  "Oh, MON!"

  "I'm going to speak to the boss, if you don't let up. I don't want toget fired."

  "Never mind you, for these h'engagements. I will work for you."

  Becoming really concerned lest he should be accused of withholdingfares, Kirk did speak to Runnels, explaining fully, whereupon a watchwas set, with the result that on the very next morning Allan was chasedout of the railroad yards by an unfeeling man with a club. Failing fora second time to evade the watchful eyes of the gateman, he ranged backand forth beyond the iron fence like a captive animal, raising hisvoice to heaven in weird complaint. He was waiting when the trainpulled in that evening, glued to the iron bars, his eyes showing aswhite in the gloom as his expansive grin of welcome.

  For several days this procedure was repeated with variations, until thedreadful threat of arrest put an end to it. Allan had conceived awholesome respect for Spiggoty police, and for a few days thereafterKirk was rid of him. Then one morning he reappeared as usual in one ofthe forward coaches.

  "How the deuce did you make it?" asked Anthony.

  Allan proudly, triumphantly, displayed a ticket, exclaiming:

  "It is of no h'avail to prevent me, boss!"

  "That ticket is good only to Corozal, the first station. You'll have toget off there." But when Corozal had been passed he found Allan stillcomfortably ensconced in his seat.

  "Now, boss, we shall have fine visits to-day," the negro predicted,warmly, and Kirk did not have the heart to eject him.

  At the other end of the line Allan repeated the process, and thereafterworked diligently to amass sufficient money to buy tickets from Panamato Corozal and from Colon to Mt. Hope, relying with splendid faith uponhis friend to protect him once he penetrated past the lynx-eyed gateman.

  Runnels accepted Kirk's explanation, and so far exceeded his authorityas to make no objection. Allan, therefore, managed to spend about halfhis time in company with the object of his adoration.

  Although the Master of Transportation never referred to hisconversation with Kirk on the occasion of their trip through CulebraCut, he watched his new subordinate carefully and he felt hisinstinctive liking for him increase. The young fellow was in earnest,he decided, in his effort to succeed on his own merits, and had notbeen posing when he offered to start at the bottom. It gave Runnelspleasure to see how he attended to his work, once he had settled downto it.

  Accordingly, it afforded him an unpleasant surprise when he received aprinted letter from a St. Louis detective agency relative to one FrankWellar, alias Jefferson Locke (last seen in New York City November25th), and offering a substantial reward for information leading to hisarrest. The communication reached Runnels through the usual channel,copies having been distributed to the heads of various departments. Itwas the description that caught his attention:

  "White; age, twenty-eight years; occupation, clerk; eyes, bluish gray;hair, light, shading upon yellow; complexion, fair; height, six feet;weight, one hundred ninety pounds. No prominent scars or marks, so faras known, but very particular as to personal appearance, and considereda good athlete, having been captain of U. of K. football team."

  There was but one man in Runnels' department whose appearance talliedwith all this, and it gave the Master of Transportation a start to notehow very complete was the identification. Nevertheless, he held theletter on his desk, and did nothing for a time except to question hisnew collector upon the first occasion. The result was not at allreassuring. A few days later, chancing to encounter John Weeks, on hisway across the Isthmus, he recalled Kirk's mention of his firstexperience at Colon. By way of an experiment he led on the consul tospeak of his former guest.

  "Anthony? Oh yes," wheezed the fat man. "I see you've got him at work."

  "You and he are friends, I believe. I thought you'd be interested toknow he's getting on well. In fact, he's the best collector I have."

  "We're hardly friends," said the consul, cautiously. "I suppose he'sall right--must be or Cortlandt wouldn't have taken him up; but there'ssomething about him I don't understand. Either he's on the level, orhe's got the nerve of a burglar."

  "How so?"

  "Well, I know he isn't what he claims to be--I have proof. He's no moreDarwin K. Anthony's son than--"

  "Darwin K. Anthony!" exclaimed the railroad man, in amazement. "Did heclaim that?"

  "He did, and he--" The speaker checked himself with admirablediplomatic caution. "Say, he's taught me one t
hing, and that is that itdoesn't pay to butt into other people's business. I played him to lose,and he won; and I got into a fine mess over it." Weeks wrinkled hisface into a ludicrous expression of mournful disgust. "I couldn't picka winner if there were two horses in the race and one of them had abroken leg. Whether his name is Anthony or Locke makes no difference tome. I got in 'Dutch' for meddling, and Alfarez lost his job forarresting him. It's only a damn fool who gets stung twice in the samespot. I'm through."

  "You'll get your money. Anthony told me he'd square up on pay-day."

  Weeks snorted at this. "Why, I've got it already. I've been paid. Mrs.Cortlandt sent me her check." He stared at his companion curiously."Funny, isn't it, how I got called down and Ramen Alfarez got fired onhis account? What does it mean?" He winked one red eye in a manner thatset Runnels to thinking deeply.