The Ne'er-Do-Well Page 5

  V

  A REMEDY IS PROPOSED

  By pledging his one article of jewelry Kirk became possessed thatafternoon of several shirts, collars, and handkerchiefs--likewise arazor, over which he exercised a sort of leasehold privilege. Thepurser made it plain, however, that he had not sold these articles, butmerely loaned them, holding the ring as security for their return, andthis arrangement allowed Kirk no spare cash whatever. Even with all hisnecessities paid for, it surprised him to find how many channelsremained for spending money. For instance, the most agreeable loafingspot on the ship was the smoking-room, but whenever he entered it hewas invited to drink, smoke, or play cards, and as he was fond of allthese diversions, it required such an effort of will to refuse that itdestroyed all the pleasure of good company. It was very hard always tobe saying no; and in addition it excited his disgust to learn that hehad inadvertently founded a reputation for abstemiousness.

  Before long he discovered that the passengers considered him anexceptionally sober, steady youth of economical habits, and thisenraged him beyond measure. Every tinkle of ice or hiss of seltzer madehis mouth water, the click of poker chips drew him with magnetic power.He longed mightily to "break over" and have a good time. It was hisfirst effort at self-restraint, and the warfare became so intense thathe finally gave up the smoking-room almost entirely, and spent hishours on deck, away from temptation. He suffered most, perhaps, fromthe lack of tobacco, but even in the matter of cigarettes he could notbring himself to accept favors that he could not return. In thesolitude of his richly appointed suite he collected a few cork-boundstumps, which he impaled on a toothpick in order to light them.

  Meanwhile he amused himself by baiting the purser. He dogged thatserious-minded gentleman through all his waking hours, finding a raredelight in playing upon his suspicion and lack of humor. To him Kirkwas always Mr. Locke, while he insisted upon being called Mr. Anthonyby the others, and the officer never quite got the hang of it.Moreover, the latter was full of dignity, and did not relish beingconnected with a certainly dubious and possibly criminal character, yetdared not resort to rudeness as a means of riddance.

  The situation was trying enough to the young man at best; for theship's hirelings began to show a lack of interest in his comfort, onceit became known that he did not tip, and he experienced difficulty inobtaining even the customary attentions. It was annoying to one who hadnever known an unsatisfied whim; but Kirk was of a peculiarly sanguinetemperament that required much to ruffle, and looked upon the wholematter as a huge joke. It was this, perhaps, that enabled him to makefriends in spite of his unsociable habits, for the men liked him. Asfor the women, he avoided them religiously, with the exception of Mrs.Cortlandt, whom he saw for an hour or two, morning and afternoon, aswell as at meal-times. With her he got on famously, finding her nearlyas entertaining as a male chum, though he never quite lost his dislikefor her husband. Had she been unmarried and nearer his own age, theirdaily intimacy might have caused him to become self-conscious, but,under the circumstances, no such thought occurred to him, and he beganto look forward with pleasure to their hours on deck.

  The Santa Cruz was four days out before Cortlandt joined them, and whenhe did he merely nodded casually to Kirk, then, after exchanging apolite word or two with his wife, lapsed into his customary silence,while Mrs. Cortlandt continued her conversation without a second glancein her husband's direction.

  "That's what I call an ideal married couple," Kirk reflected--"completeunderstanding, absolute confidence." And the more he saw of them, thestronger this impression grew. Cortlandt was always attentive andcourteous, without being demonstrative, while his wife showed acharming graciousness that was plainly unassumed. Their perfectgood-breeding made the young man feel at ease; but though he endeavoredto cultivate the husband on several occasions, he made little headway.The man evidently possessed a wide knowledge of current events, a keenunderstanding of men and things, yet he never opened up. He listened,smiled, spoke rarely, and continued to spend nine-tenths of his time inthat isolated corner of the smoking-room, with no other company than along glass and a siphon.

  One day when Kirk had begun to feel that his acquaintance with Mrs.Cortlandt was well established, he said to her:

  "Stein told me to-day that your husband is in the diplomatic service."

  "Yes," said she. "He was Consul-General to Colombia several years ago,and since then he has been to France and to Germany."

  "I thought you were tourists--you have travelled so much."

  "Most of our journeys have been made at the expense of the Government."

  "Are you diplomatting now?"

  "In a way. We shall be in Panama for some time."

  "This Stein seems to be a nice fellow. He's taken quite a liking to me."

  Mrs. Cortlandt laughed lightly. "That is part of his business."

  "How so?"

  "He is one of Colonel Jolson's secret agents."

  "Who is Colonel Jolson?"

  "Chairman of the Isthmian Canal Commission. Your father knows him."

  "Do you mean that Stein is a--detective?" Kirk looked uncomfortable.

  "I do! Does he know you are the son of Darwin K. Anthony?"

  "Why, yes, I suppose so."

  "Colonel Jolson will be interested."

  "Again I don't see the point."

  "Your father is one of the most powerful and aggressive railroad men inthe country. Perhaps you know something about the railroad oppositionto the canal?"

  Kirk smiled. "Well, to tell you the truth," said he, "the governordoesn't consult me about his business as much as he ought to. He seemsto think he can run it all right without me, and we've only beenspeaking over the telephone lately."

  "One of the strongest forces the Government had to combat in puttingthrough the canal appropriations was the railroads. Colonel Jolson hasno reason to love your father."

  "Yes, but _I_ don't object to this canal. I think it must be a rathergood idea."

  Mrs. Cortlandt laughed for a second time. "The Colonel's dislike foryour father will not affect you, inasmuch as you are returning so soon,but if you intended to stay it might be different."

  "In what way?"

  "Oh, in many ways. There are two classes of people who are not welcomedon the Canal Zone--magazine writers and applicants for positions whohave political influence back of them. The former are regarded asmuckrakers, the latter as spies."

  "That's rather rough on them, isn't it?"

  "You must understand that there is a great big human machine behind thedigging of this canal, and, while it is more wonderful by far than theactual machinery of iron and steel, it is subject to human weaknesses.Men like Colonel Jolson, who form a part of it, are down here to makereputations for themselves. They are handicapped and vexed by constantinterference, constant jealousy. It is a survival of the fittest, and Isuppose they feel that they must protect themselves even if they useunderhand means to do so. It is so in all big work of this character,where the individual is made small. You would find the same conditionin your father's railroad organization."

  "Oh, now! My old man is a pretty tough citizen to get along with, buthe wouldn't hire detectives to spy on his employees."

  Mrs. Cortlandt smiled. "By-the-way, when are you going into businesswith him?" she said.

  "I? Oh, not for a long time. You see, I'm so busy I never seem to havetime to work. Work doesn't really appeal to me, anyway. I suppose if Ihad to hustle I could, but--what's the use?"

  "What is it that keeps you so busy? What are you going to do when youget back, for instance?"

  "Well, I'm going to Ormond for the auto races, and I may enter my newcar. If I don't get hurt in the races I'll take a hunting trip or two.Then I want to try out an iceboat on the Hudson, and I'll have to beback in New Haven by the time the baseball squad limbers up. Oh, I haveplenty of work ahead!"

  Mrs. Cortlandt let her eyes dwell upon him curiously for a moment; thenshe said:

  "Have you no ambition?"

&nb
sp; "Certainly."

  "What is it?"

  "Why--" Kirk hesitated. "I can't say right off the reel, but I've gotit--lots of it."

  "Is there no--girl, for instance? Have you never been in love?"

  "Oh, see here, now!" Anthony blushed in a manner to excite the envy ofany woman. "I don't like 'em. I'd rather play football."

  "That explains something. When the time comes you will cease wastingyour life and--"

  "I'm NOT wasting my life," the young man denied hotly. "I'm having agreat time; simply immense."

  "I remember reading an article once by a man who attacked Americancolleges with bitter personal feeling, on the ground that they fosteredexactly the attitude toward life which you have just expressed."

  Anthony looked sober. "That was my father," he said.

  "Really! How stupid of me to forget the name. But I don't agree withhim," she continued, gently. "You merely lack stimulus. If you shouldmeet the right woman--" Then, seeing the amusement in his face;"Believe me, I know what I am talking about. I know what a woman cando. Your life has been too easy and placid. You need some disturbingelement to make it ferment."

  "But I don't want to ferment."

  "Why don't you stay in Panama and go to work?"

  "Work? Hideous word! For one thing, I haven't time. I must get back--"

  "You will find great opportunities there."

  "But how about the girl who is to sour the syrup of my being and makeit ferment?"

  "Oh, she may appear at any moment; but, joking aside, you had betterthink over what I have said." She left him with an admonitory shake ofher head.

  The SANTA CRUZ was now rapidly drawing out of the cold northern winterand into a tropic warmth. Already the raw chill of higher latitudes wasgiving way to a balmy, spring-like temperature, while the glitteringsunshine transformed the sea into a lively, gleaming expanse ofsapphire. The nights were perfect, the days divine. The passengersresponded as if to a magic draught, and Kirk found his blood filledwith a new vigor.

  A brief sight of Columbus' Landfall served to break the monotony; thenfollowed a swift flight past low, tropical islands ringed with coralsand, upon which broke a lazy, milk-white surf. Through the glassesvillages were spied, backed by palm groves and guarded by tall sentinellighthouses; but the Santa Cruz pushed steadily southward, her decks aslevel as a dancing floor, the melancholy voice of her bell tolling theleagues as they slipped past. The eastern tongue of Cuba rose out ofthe horizon, then dropped astern, and the gentle trades began to fanthe travellers. Now that they were in the Caribbean, schools of flyingfish whisked out from under the ship's prow, and away, like tinysilver-sheathed arrows. New constellations rose into the evening sky.It became impossible to rest indoors, with the trade-winds calling, andthe passengers spent long, lazy hours basking in the breath of thetropics and grudging the pleasure of which sleep deprived them.

  It was the last night of the voyage, and the thrill of approaching landwas felt by all. As usual, the monotony of the first day or two hadgiven way to an idle contentment and a vague regret at leaving the shipand severing the ties so newly made. Home, instead of looming close andovershadowing, had become a memory rather indistinct and blurred,clouded by the proximity of the new and unknown.

  Kirk Anthony acknowledged to a reluctant enjoyment of the change andfound himself less eager to go back. As he paced the deck after dinnerhe felt a lurking desire to defer his return until he had absorbedsomething more of this warmth and languor; he even reflected that hemight welcome a stay of some length in the tropics if it were not forthe fact that he had so much to do.

  Mrs. Cortlandt joined him as usual, and they did a mile around thepromenade, chatting idly of many things. The evening was too gloriousto permit of early retiring, and a late hour found them leaning overthe rail, side by side, while Anthony bewailed the fact that he knewnothing of the country just beyond the dark horizon ahead of them.

  "You are quite right," his companion agreed. "You will miss its bestflavor if you don't know the history back of it. For instance, we arenow on the Spanish Main, the traditional home of romance and adventure."

  "I always wanted to be a pirate," he acknowledged gravely, "up tofifteen. Then I thought I'd rather run a candy store."

  "The ships of Sir Henry Morgan and the galleons of His Catholic MajestyPhilip of Spain sailed these waters. Over yonder"--she waved a gracefulhand to the north and east--"are the haunts where the adventurers ofold England used to lie in wait for their prey. Ahead of us is the landthat Pizarro soaked with blood. We're coming into the oldest country onthis side of the globe, Mr. Anthony, where men lived in peace andplenty when most of Europe was a wilderness. I suppose such thingsappeal more to a woman's fancy than to a man's, but to me they'remightily alluring."

  Kirk wagged his head admiringly, as he said:

  "I wish I could make language behave like that," and Edith Cortlandtlaughed like a young girl.

  "Oh, I'm not a perfervid poet," she disclaimed, "but everything downhere is so full of association I can't help feeling it."

  "I'm beginning to notice it myself. Maybe it's the climate."

  "Perhaps. Anyhow, it is all very vivid to me. Did you ever stop tothink how brave those men must have been who first went venturing intounknown seas in their little wooden boats?"

  "They were looking for a short cut to the East Indies, weren't they?"

  "Yes, to Cathay. And then the people they found and conquered! Thespoils they exacted! They were men--those conquistadores--whatever elsethey were--big, cruel, heroic fellows like Bastida, Nicuesa, Balboa,Pedrarias the Assassin, and the rest. They oppressed the nativesterribly, yet they paved the way for civilization, after all. TheSpaniards did try to uplift the Indians, you know. And the life in thecolonies was like that in old Spain, only more romantic andpicturesque. Why, whenever I pass through these Latin-American cities Isee, in place of the crumbling ruins, grand cathedrals and palaces; inplace of the squalid beggars idling about the market-places I seevelvet-clad dons and high-born ladies."

  "Aren't there any beautiful ladies left?"

  "A few, perhaps."

  "What happened to the cathedrals and the velvet fellows and all that?"

  "Oh, the old state of affairs couldn't last forever. The Spanishadministration wasn't so bad as is generally supposed, yet of coursethere was too much rapacity and not enough industry. Central America,broadly speaking, was known as the treasure-chest of the world, andthere were constant wars and disturbances. The colonies as a whole didnot progress like those in the North, and in course of timedeteriorated. The old cathedrals decayed and were not rebuilt. The oldSpanish stock died out and in its stead grew up a motley race given torevolt, revolution, and corruption. Even when the provinces becamefree, they weren't able to unite and form a strong nation. The Isthmusof Panama became a pest-hole where the scum of the Four Seas settled.The people became mean and unhealthy in mind and body and morals,preserving nothing except the cruelty of their forefathers. Here andthere, to be sure, one comes across the old Castilian breed, like asilver thread running through a rotting altar-cloth, but only here andthere, and most of those silver threads have become tarnished fromcontact with the fabric."

  "It must be a nice place," Kirk observed with gentle sarcasm.

  "It affords one a great chance to moralize, at any rate. Take thebuilding of this canal, for instance. First, the French came, led by adreamer, and poured in the wealth of an empire in order that they mightexact toll from the world. You see, they were all lured by the love ofgain--the Spaniards, who pillaged the natives to begin with, and theFrench, who set out to squeeze profit from all the other nations. Butit seems as if the spot were infected. The French lost an army in theirproject; corruption gnawed through, and the thing ended in disgrace anddisaster. Spain and France have come and gone, and at last we Yankeeshave arrived. It seems to be the will of God that the youngest,lustiest people on the earth should finally be sent to clean thisAugean stable."

  "By Jove! I never thought of
it that way."

  "It is a big task, Mr. Anthony, and the mere digging of the ditch isthe smallest part. There is a great deal more to be done. You see, asmen attain culture, they require more than mere food and drink andbedding, and in the same way, as nations attain to greatness, theyrequire more than mere territory--they reach out and absorb power andprestige. Our decision to build the Panama Canal is like the landing ofanother Columbus; the conquest is to follow. After that will come--whoknows what? Perhaps more wars, more pillage, more injustice."

  "You talk like a man," Anthony said, admiringly. "I had no idea youlooked at things in such a big way."

  "You are laughing at me."

  "No, indeed."

  "You see, it is part of my husband's profession. As to theromance--well, all women are romantic and imaginative, I suppose, andyou've been an inspiring listener."

  "I don't know about that, but--you're a corking good talker. Excuse myarchaic English." Mrs. Cortlandt turned her eyes upon the speaker, andhe saw that they were very bright. "I've been thinking about what youtold me the other day," he ran on, "about myself. Remember?"

  "I'm glad I have the knack of making something besides football signalsstick in your memory," said she. "Have you been thinking about thatgirl I spoke of?"

  "Yes," he replied, ingenuously. "I've been making up my mind to ask youif you happen to have a sister--an unmarried sister, I mean."

  Mrs. Cortlandt laughed appreciatively. "No, I have no sister, but Ithank you for the compliment. I suppose you meant it for one?"

  "Yes. I hope you don't mind."

  "Not at all. I'm quite sure now that my notion about you was right. Itwill take a woman to make a man of you."

  "It used to be my wind that troubled me," said the athlete, mournfully."Now it seems to be my heart."

  "It doesn't seem to be seriously affected as yet, but it's remarkablethe number of ways in which the heart of man may be reached. I rememberonce having breakfast in a queer little restaurant in the Frenchquarter of New Orleans, famous for its cooking and for the well-knownpeople who had eaten there. There was a sort of register which theguests were asked to sign, and in looking it over I read theinscription of one particularly enthusiastic diner. It ran, 'Oh, MadameBegue, your liver has touched my heart,' and the story is that thewriter made desperate love to the proprietor's wife."

  "Oh, come, that's rather hard on me. I have some emotions besides ahearty appreciation of food."

  "No doubt. I only mentioned that as one of the ways, and, seriously, Iam convinced that, however your awakening may come, you will be thebetter for it."

  "I do hope the cook will prove to be unmarried," he mused. "Imaginehaving to do away with a husband who can handle a cleaver."

  "Oh, I don't mean you should necessarily marry the woman. It would bequite as good for you if she refused even to look at you. However, letus hope that you meet some nice American girl--"

  "Why not a senorita? You have inspired me with Spanish romance."

  But Mrs. Cortlandt shook her head. "Wait until you have seen them."

  "Already I imagine myself under some moonlit balcony teasing chords outof a guitar. I have rather a good singing voice, you know."

  "It is not done that way nowadays. Panama is Americanized. You will needa pianola and an automobile."

  "And all the romance is gone?"

  "Oh, there is romance everywhere; there is quite as much in Pittsburgas in Andalusia. But to speak of more practical things"--Mrs. Cortlandthesitated slightly--"I heard you tell the purser the other day aboutyour financial troubles, and it occurred to me that Mr. Cortlandt mightassist you."

  "Thanks, awfully," Kirk hastened to say, feeling himself flushuncomfortably. "But I sha'n't need anything. The old gentleman willwire me whatever I ask for. Does Mr. Cortlandt know how I am fixed?"

  "No."

  "Please don't tell him. I--I'm a little bit ashamed of myself. You'renot going?"

  "Yes. It is getting late, and my maid is looking for me."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. It's lonesome around here without--somebody to talkto." He took her hand and shook it as if she were a man. "You've beenmighty good to me and--I wish you had a sister. That's all."

  She left him the memory of a very bright and very girlish smile, and hefound himself thinking that she could not be so much older than he,after all.

  Mr. Cortlandt was awaiting his wife and rose courteously as she enteredtheir suite.

  "Did you send Annette for me?" she inquired.

  "Yes. I thought you had forgotten the hour. We rise at six."

  "My dear," she returned, coolly, "I was quite aware of the time. I wastalking to Mr. Anthony."

  "Do you find him so amusing?"

  "Very much so."

  "He's such a boy. By-the-way, some of the passengers are remarkingabout your friendship for him."

  Mrs. Cortlandt shrugged. "I expected that. Does it interest you?"

  The man favored her with his wintry smile. "Not at all."

  "If he should need assistance while in Panama, I should be obliged ifyou would accommodate him."

  "Money?"

  "Yes, or anything else. He left New York unexpectedly."

  "Don't you think that is going a bit too far? You know I don't fancyhim."

  Mrs. Cortlandt frowned slightly. "We won't discuss it," she said. "Iassured him he was at liberty to call on us for anything and--naturallythat ends the matter."

  "Naturally!" he agreed, but his colorless cheeks flushed dully.