Part 18 (2/2)

”Yes, I believe I did spend some money for a telegram for you and a newspaper. It was fifty-five cents.”

Then the girl handing him the money, he mutters: ”Thank you,” and suddenly bursts out, ”I am in luck to-day. That is not the only sum I've received. Friends are pouring gold upon me!” in a nervous way which is peculiar in him, for up to this moment he has seemed to Miss Travenion to have an organization capable of standing any shock.

A moment after he appears calmer, and says, ”I have a little story to tell you. It is in relation to that Ogden matter. You know that by an accident I was there permitted to save the life of a very generous little beggar”--here he pats Ferdie on the head, who mutters, ”Don't,”

and blushes like a girl. ”This little gentleman,” continues Harry, ”for the slight service I did him in saving his n.o.ble little life, has seemed to me unusually grateful. He has sent me presents--a gold-headed cane and a silver-mounted revolver; but hearing that I was--in what you might call hard luck, this generous boy, who has not yet learned that it is not always best to squander your money upon friends, sent to me to-day fifteen thousand dollars.”

”Oh, what a whopper! My allowance is only three thousand a year, and I am always in debt,” cries Ferdie with sudden nervousness.

”You didn't send it?” says the captain. Then he mutters slowly, ”Have I made a mistake?”

”On my honor as a gentleman,” answers the boy. ”But, by Jove, I would like to have had it to send you, and more too, for you did save my life, though you don't seem to like to have it mentioned.”

”This is very curious,” gasps Harry. ”I have made a mistake. There was fifteen thousand put to my credit to-day, only an hour ago, at Walker Brothers. I made inquiry, and they said it had come as a cas.h.i.+er's check from Bussey's National Bank, on which I knew that your party had letters of credit. I could think of no one else who would consider himself under obligation to me,--at least, no one willing to do me such a good turn.”

Then he goes on, ”I must look elsewhere for the friend in need,” and as he says this, some movement of the girl seems to draw his eyes, and he looks at her and notes that she is very red, and her eyes are feverish, and her small foot in its little slipper and openwork stocking, is patting the floor at the rate of about one hundred a minute.

Suddenly he gives a start, and a great red flush comes over his face, for just at this moment Louise comes in, crying, ”Erma, here is your letter of credit returned from the bank!” and with a childish idea of showing the general importance and wealth of the family to the Western stranger, remarks: ”I peeped in her envelope, and Miss Extravagance has drawn fifteen thousand dollars to-day.”

Then she pauses, astounded at the effect of her words, for Erma, who has risen hurriedly to receive the paper, gives a sudden cry, and sinks into a chair, covering her face with her hands, and Ferdie has suddenly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, ”By Ginger!” and would giggle did not the captain's manner awe him.

The next second Harry Lawrence takes the paper from Louise, saying gently, ”I'll give this to Miss Travenion. My business with her will be over in five minutes,” and Miss Livingston, who, for a child, has quite a quick perception of social affairs, taking the hint, gives him the doc.u.ment and goes silently away.

Glancing at it, a debit of fifteen thousand dollars of this day's date is indorsed on the back, and he grows very pale, FOR HE KNOWS. Then coming toward the girl, who has half risen to meet him, he says: ”Ferdie, there is a good angel in the room, my boy,--one of the kind that make men think earth is very near to heaven. Now, you just run down and play billiards, and I will join you in a few minutes, and don't you say a word of what I have told you to any one in this world.”

”On my honor,” whispers Chauncey, for there are two tears in Lawrence's eyes that impress him very greatly. Then he suddenly cries, ”Erma, you're a brick!” and leaves the captain gazing at Miss Travenion, who is pale as death also.

As he does so, Lawrence suddenly comes to the girl, and says very tenderly: ”G.o.d bless your n.o.ble, generous heart!”

But suddenly he seems to Erma to grow taller and tower over her, and he shakes his head and brushes his hair back from his brow, as if he were a fevered lion, and cries hoa.r.s.ely: ”This must not be! Men in the West do not take money from women!”

”But you need it. What is it to me? A few gewgaws, and jewels, and dresses, and I have more of them than I want. Take it to regain your own--to smite down this wretch Tranyon--then repay it to me.”

”No, that is impossible,” he answers, slowly. ”This money shall be returned to you before bank hours this afternoon. But the good will that prompted it--I'll keep that, if you please, until I die.” And supreme grat.i.tude and undying love also are in his eyes, for he cannot keep them from speaking, though he may, perchance, control his tongue.

”But you need it. You must take it. It is necessary for your success,”

gasps the girl.

”I cannot take it, but I will succeed without it,” he cries. ”I cannot afford to lose. I must win! It is not money I am fighting for, but----”

”What?”

”What I will never tell you till I have money enough to prevent men calling me an adventurer--a fortune hunter--if I win it.” And his eyes speaking to her again, she knows what he means.

A moment after, she turns to him, and says considerately:

”If I cannot aid you in this way I can in another, which I hope you will accept. My father will be here this evening. He is a very rich man. He will be more than happy to go upon your bond, to raise the injunction, which, I understand, has crippled you.”

<script>