Montes the matador, and other stories

Contents

Monies The Matador: P, 3 ^^

First Love: A Confession: P. 61

Profit and Loss: P. 87

II

About a week after Mr. Boulger's nocturnal visit to his house of business, his wife and his three unmarried daughters were assembled in the drawing-room of their country residence, awaiting his arrival, and that of the manager, Mr, Tryon, 110 whom, to their surprise, Mr. Boulger seemed resolved to honour. A word or two about Mrs. Boulger and her daughters may not be out of place here.

In person Mrs. Boulger was thin and dry, but in spite of sallow complexion and round black eyes ' the sharp-featured face and tall figure had a certain dignity. She belonged, as she was pleased to inform everyone, to an old Southern family — a family, she used to add, that had been slave-holders " for generations." In truth, the little plantation of the Carters had been bought by the grandfather, but as she advanced in life, and her position improved, Mrs. Boulger's ancestors grew in number and legendary importance. Pride was her dominant quality and, in process of time, it had swollen to such exaggeration that it bred virtues in her, foreign to her nature. Just as it would have been difficult to induce her to do anything which seemed to her unworthy of a great position, so nothing would prevent her doing what she thought her position demanded. She lived, therefore, at the rate which her ever-increasing knowledge of luxuries required, careless of the fact that in the last years she had spent more than her husband could earn.

The eldest daughter, Ada, resembled her mother save that she was good-looking, well-educated and accepted in faith her mother's imaginary descent and hereditary splendour. She was selfish, as her mother was, unconsciously and intensely, with a complacent self-approval that her mother could hardly reach. The unity of type of Mrs. Boulger 111 and Ada had had certain curious effects upon the two younger girls.

Ivy, the youngest, seemed in many ways to take after her father. In person she was an inferior copy — small and slight of figure, with a doll's face. The self-satisfied pride of her mother and eldest sister had intensified and developed her egotism to deliberate and conscious purpose. Her emulative instincts and her desire to please had led her to cultivate her manners, which would have been perfect had she been able to comprehend any nature other than her own. Her ruthless self-seeking and obstinacy had won the unwilling respect even of her mother, and she was undoubtedly her father's favourite.

Georgie, on the other hand, was by nature honest, frank and kindly. She tried to dwell on the good qualities of her mother and sisters, but unknown to herself their egotism brought out and developed the unselfishness in her. She found it easy to yield to the demands they were continually making on her good-nature ; though sometimes she rendered service with a certain contempt. For Georgie was not a saint to whom self-sacrifice was a pleasure, but a sound-hearted girl with a strong craving for affection. To her alone the return to Kansas City was a source of satisfaction. She looked forward hopefully and with a confused yet eager anticipation of life's joy and purpose to the meeting with Tryon, whom she had liked and trusted from the first. She thought of herself and even of her person with reasonable pleasure. She knew perfectly well that she was not so tall 113 or elegant as Ada, but she was stronger and had better health. Again and again, too, she had noticed that if men were first attracted by Ada's good looks and stateliness or by Ivy's charming manners and affectation of intense interest, the majority of them came gradually to pay her attentions which, if not passionate, were, at least, constant and sincere. She had, accordingly, a premonition that life would afford her what she most desired, and therewith she was content. If her outlook was narrow it was clear. She was truthful and trustworthy, as are the unimaginative. Neither her father nor Tryon had reason to fear betrayal from her; she held to the plain rules of conduct and liked the straight lines cut by American roads and streets. As soon as her father had spoken of Tryon, even before he mentioned his promotion to the post of manager she had divined that her future was intimately concerned. And this gratified not only the better part of her nature but also a certain vanity. She had always wished to be married before either of her sisters; she felt that she had more affection to give than they possessed, and Ivy's vanity and selfishness and Ada's complacent pride seemed to her to render them distinctly her inferiors.

In spite of the unusual enthusiasm with which Mr. Boulger spoke of Tryon, neither Mrs. Boulger nor Ada was at all inclined to attribute much importance to his visit. They knew themselves to be far above clerkdom. But Ivy noticed at once that her father seemed to speak at Georgia in particular, and it was easy for her to interpret her 113 favourite sister's manner. When she entered the drawing-room she saw that Georgie, like herself, had dressed with more than ordinary care. A certain feminine jealousy in her came at once to speech, though she tried to modify the bitterness of her words because it was no part of her policy to offend the sister who was continually doing her kindnesses, and whom she liked as much as she could like any one.

" I'm afraid," she said carelessly, " it's no use for you and me to get ourselves up for Mr. Tryon w^hile Ada's there. We haven't a chance with her. After all, I don't mind. I don't want papa's manager. But it's a pity you're not looking your best to-day — you've too much colour."

Georgie felt the keenness of the shaft which, indeed deepened the healthy flush of her cheeks, but she maintained her self-control, and after a short pause, spoke of indifferent things.

A few minutes later, just after the lights had been brought in, and the windows closed, Mr. Boulger and Tryon entered the room. Mrs. Boulger was polite, and even pleasant to Tr^^on, as she always was to new acquaintances, and Ada attempted to appropriate him as if each and every man must needs wish to be at her feet. Tryon, though not at ease, showed to advantage. His purpose was so strong that nothing of the selfconscious awkwardness of his youth was visible, and when, after replying politely to the elder sister, he turned to Georgie, she was astonished by the improvement in him. He was more manly, masterful even, she thought, with a flush of pleas- 114, ure, which gave her a charming expression of girlish embarrassment. Besides, she really felt somewhat shy. The fidelity in Tryon's look brought the future very close to her, and she was astonished at the strength of the feelings he called forth in her.

The evening passed pleasantly enough. Ada, it is true, was at times contemptuous ; Ivy made remarks which were significant and slightly malicious, but Mr. Boulger's unceasing good-humour, and Mrs. Boulger's pleasure in recounting her European experiences made things go smoothly. From her conversation, Tryon gathered that Mrs. Boulger looked upon America since the abolition of slavery as a very poor place ; " The servants were ill-taught and independent," was a phrase, the sense of which he could not seize. The dinner seemed to him oppressive in length ; he felt that it wasn't right for people to drink wine with their meals, and that the house was too splendid to be comfortable. He told his mother afterwards that it was like being dressed always in one's best clothes. But Georgie's eyes and words showed him that she, at any rate, understood and appreciated him, and that was enough. After dinner, too, she arranged matters so that Tryon could talk to her tete-a-tete, and when he hoped that she had kept her promise not to forget old friends, she replied without affectation that she had not forgotten him. Her frankness put him at his ease, and to his own surprise he found himself speaking to her with interest of the business and the improvements he hoped to effect in it. The insight 115 and energy in him impressed Her, but more still the strength and persistence which she felt to be the foundation of his character. Once, at least, she caught herself blushing, half with surprise at an incautious phrase which betrayed the strength of her feeling for him. As he grew in her esteem she showed a good humour and enjoyment which made her quite pretty. In fine, they both appeared at their best; they were both conscious of this, and each accordingly felt increased sympathy for the other. Towards eleven o'clock Mr. Boulger approached them.

" Georgie," he said, in a low voice, after a few careless sentences, " we both want you to come down early to-morrow morning; we've something to talk over with you, and as Dave wants to go to business before eight o'clock, you should be down at seven to give him and me breakfast."

Mr. Boulger's tone and confidential manner were highly significant. Most girls would have felt somewhat embarrassed at the quick approach of the decisive moment, but Georgie answered quite naturally :

" All right, father, I'll be here at half-past six. Now it's time to go to bed, I suppose, though, thanks to Mr. Try on, the evening has seemed very short."

For some time after he reached his room, Tryon gave himself up to thought. He felt certain that Georgie cared for him, and that she would consent to be his wife. Her frankness and good humour had been very pleasant to him, almost as delightful in fact as certain signs of affection which he re- 116 called with joy. On all points save one liis mmd was at rest. Her frank affection had increased his confidence in her to such an extent that he felt inclined to confide in her without reserve. She deserved complete trust, he knew, and he felt that she ought to know beforehand what he intended to do. The influence of his business training had been so immoral that he would have decided probably to tell her his secret had not his high opinion of his mother restrained him. Perhaps Georgie would take the same view of it as his mother would. Perhaps? Certainly. Then there was nothing more to think of; he would say nothing, and go ahead.

Alt ^ ^/U 4)& JJJL

The next morning Tryon was in the breakfast-room at six o'clock. The servants were leaving the room as he entered it. He had not waited long when Georgie came in. She looked so bright and neat; her blue eyes so glad and her complexion so fresh that he felt his senses stir again in him as they had stirred more than once during the previous evening.

'' Good morning, Mr. Tryon. You are down early. Has father appeared yet ? "

" No, and Pm glad he hasn't," replied Tryon steadily, " for I've something to ask you first," he added, as their hands met. " Do you remember," he went on, " how kind you were to me when I was with you at school ? "

Georgie tried to meet his eyes but could not. It was too sudden. Still she would have controlled even this faint testimony to her joy and satlsfac-

iir tion had not a delicious feeling of pride in his directness and a certain shy longing to yield herself completely to his masterfulness made it impossible for her to do anything save try by thinking of something else to still the tumultuous beating of her heart while following his every word.

" Well, ever since that day you asked me about the sum, I've loved you, and now, Georgie, I want to know whether you care enough for me to be my wife?"

At the direct question, none of the romantic imaginings of her girlhood came into her head ; on the contrary, her previous emotions even seemed to leave her. She regained self-possession at once and, looking him in the face, she answered,

" Yes."

As he put his arms round her and kissed her again and again, the tumultuous emotions came back to her with an added keenness of pleasure in being so embraced, which made it impossible for her at first to add anything to the simplicity of her avowal. But in a moment or two she disengaged herself. She felt afraid of herself— afraid lest these new, strong, delightful emotions might carry her further than she ought to go. She felt shy, too, and strove to hide her shyness under an affected confidence.

" Now," she said, with an added flush on her cheeks and brightness in her glance, " after having crumpled my frock and loosened my hair, and made me hot, perhaps you'll tell me was this the reason why papa wanted me to come down early.?"

" One of the reasons, I think," said Trjon, smiling in response to her smile. " Didn't you guess it, Georgie? " and he put his hand on her shoulder as he spoke.

" Perhaps ; but do you know you've altered a great deal ; you're not like what you were — I mean you're — older, and I thought — "

" Then you did think of me sometimes, Georgie? "

The girl nodded her head with deep tenderness in her eyes. A need of frank confession was upon her, for her whole nature opened to this affection freely, as a flower to the sun's warmth.

" I just hated Europe and wanted that tour to end, for I was lonely often, and I thought perhaps you cared for me, though I wasn't sure you did so much — till last night. It is good to like some one, isn't it, and to be — liked?"

After this she did not seek to free herself, but suffered him to kiss her and to lead her to the sofa. The talk between them, made up of memories, and the questions and answers of a happy affection, seemed to have lasted but a minute when Mr. Boulger came into the room.

" That's right," he exclaimed joyfully, rubbing his hands, as the two stood up quickly as he came towards them, " that's right. I guess you've settled the main point already." But the part of happy father, difficult for Mr. Boulger to play at any time, was impossible without the help of even a word from either of the young people, and so, after a pause, he added more seriously and in almost his ordinary tone : " Now, Georgie, 119 you must let me take Dave away for a minute, as we've somethin' to settle first. We'll be back soon."

Without more ado he led Tryon into the drawing-room, and, taking a long white envelope from his breast-pocket as he went, he said hastily:

" Here's the note, Dave. You see I've filled in the sum as a hundred thousand. I've other girls, and — an' that was my first proposition. Wasn't it? You won't mind, I guess; you'll have ten or fifteen thousand dollars a year to live on, an' Georgie's a good girl an' not extravagant, an' 3'ou'n be better off anyway than any young pair in the town, an' "

Tryon's real rapidity of judgment stood him in good stead on this occasion. He felt it was impossible for him to bargain at such a time, although the trick was palpable and irritated him. He saw at a glance, however, that nothing remained for him but to accept the situation. It was evidence of his rare adaptability that he also resolved to humour the cheat. Georgie's father was worth conciliating.

" All right," he replied slowly but with a smile. " I guess it's hard to trade with you and come out even. You're smart. There's no doubt about that."

The smile of self-satisfaction which spread over Mr. Boulger's face at what he accepted as a pleasant truth showed Tryon that he had said enough, so he broke off, and after looking over the paper carefully, he folded it up, and placing it again in the envelope, returned it. 120

'' That makes you somethin' like my partner, you know, Dave," said Mr. Boulger conciliatlngly, " and I mean to act fair by you always. I've ever}^ reason to now — but I'll be glad when it's all over. When do you think — but I guess we'll have time to talk of that after breakfast. Now, come."

On their return to the breakfast-room Mr. Boulger handed the envelope to Georgie.

" You're to keep that, Georgie, for three months." (The girl flushed.) "Then you're to give it to Dave, or, if I object, you're to open it and decide fairly bet'ween us. D'you understand.^ I guess we can both count on you — eh.'^"

" Yes," said the girl, knitting her brows and looking from her lover to her father. " At the end of three months I'm to give it to Mr. Tryon, unless you object, but if jou. do, I'm to open it and decide. It seems strange. Mayn't I know what's in this mysterious envelope ? "

" Girls mustn't know too much at once," replied Mr. Boulger carelessl}^ ; " but now keep the paper safe, and let's have breakfast. I'm real hungry. An' I guess Dave '11 be able to eat a square meal, too. Happiness is a good sauce — eh.'^"

The breakfast was cheerful and pleasant. Mr. Boulger talked incessantly in a somewhat excited way, which left the young people to their thoughts and interchange of looks. Dave Tryon was more than satisfied with his success. Georgie seemed to him an ideal wife ; and the girl herself would have been lost in her deep content had she not noticed anxiously that her lover now and then seemed very thoughtful.

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The store was composed of four storeys, three of which were filled with goods. The staircase ran from close to Tryon's office, in the back part of the first floor, towards the front, and emerged on the fourth floor, dividing it into two almost equal halves. Here in a sort of attic lived a German with his wife, who, by way of rent, took care of the building, sweeping and dusting it out in the mornings and at night, airing it in summer, lighting the fires in winter, and so on. As soon as Tryon thought of getting in wood he remembered the Lenzes. He had always given Lenz the money for the wood and current expenses, and he had now to see him in order, if possible, to get Lenz to propose to buy a quantity of wood at once for cheapness' sake and to store it beneath the stairway. This was easily accomplished; a few words of praise induced the simple German to take upon himself the honour — and the responsibility — of having suggested this important purchase. So far so good. But Tryon understood that if he tried to get the Lenzes to leave the store on any pretence whatever, suspicion would at once attach to him. They must go out of their own accord, and he would have to take advantage of the opportunity which chance or their habits might offer. The worst of it was that he knew next to nothing of the Lenzes or of their way of living. They did their work so well that he had had but few occasions to speak to them, and the contempt which

in

Americans feel for all foreigners, and particularly for those who speak with a foreign accent, had hindered him from having any intercourse with them. Try on realised that it would never do to question Lenz as to his habits and customs. These he must learn from others. So he began to frequent a German lager-bier saloon in the evenings and talk with the customers. This served another purpose. Tryon's rooted repugnance to fraud was stirred to activity chiefly by his mother; intercourse with her awakened all that was honest in him, and again and again led him to question his resolve. And this was very painful to him: hesitation being intolerable to men accustomed to action. Accordingly he soon became aware that his visits to the lager-bier saloon not only increased his knowledge of Germans and their ways, but also diminished the unconscious influence of his mother upon him, and so freed him from remorseful doubtings, which were hard to combat. He, therefore, kept up his visits to the saloon long after his primary object was accomplished, and he excused himself to his mother for the lateness of his homecomings by alleging the necessity for increased exertions in his new position. Mrs. Tryon accepted this excuse the more readily as her son had, of course, informed her that he was engaged to Georgie Boulger. In spite of Mrs. Tryon's natural jealousy, the girl's frankness had made a favourable impression upon her, and the two soon became as good friends as such a connection permits even between women who are both of kindly nature.

1^

In his third or fourth visit to the saloon Tryon found out that the Turn-Verein Fest, a sort of annual festival, which all Germans of the middle and lower classes are accustomed to attend, would be held on the 1st of August (his visit to the Boulger's took place on the 10th July). A fewevenings later he learned that Lenz and his wife were almost sure to be present, and as Lenz held some sort of subordinate office in the Verein, he would be kept at the festival till midnight or later. Tryon had, therefore, nothing to do but prepare everything, wait for the evening of the 1st, and then act. Methodically, according to his habit, he took the evenings in the saloon for thought, and during the day set himself to organise and develop the business with all his energy. That he knew would avert suspicion from him. Who could imagine that the energetic manager would set the building on fire wherein he worked with tireless devotion? And in the evenings spent in the saloon, while considering and reconsidering all the details of his plan, he w^as but little troubled by remorse or doubts. The unfamiliar faces in the saloon, and the strange speech, moved him to dislike and contempt; excited, indeed, his combative instincts while subduing his better nature. So the da3^s passed, marked by no incident save an occasional sentence or two exchanged with Georgie when, from time to time, she, with her mother or sisters, visited the store. Mr. Boulger seldom went to business after Tryon's inauguration as manager; and, when he did go, the mere sight of Tryon's activity and resolution seemed to assure him that 124 his cause was in good hands. It was characteristic of Tryon, and of his opinion of Mr. Boulger that he never told his employer when or how he intended to effect their purpose. Somehow or other Tryon felt sure that if Mr. Boulger knew the moment, he would " fuss " and perhaps excite suspicion; besides, as he had undertaken to do the thing, he wished to do it in his own way, taking all the responsibility upon his own shoulders. He felt stronger alone than with any associate.

At length the 1st of August dawned. A cloudless, hot day even when Tryon awoke at half-past five. There was wind, too, a moderate breeze from the north-east, of all winds the most favourable to his design. He couldn't help smiling as the proverb came into his head, " It's an ill wind ."

He felt proud of himself; as the trial came near he was neither elated nor depressed. As usual he talked quietly with his mother over his breakfast and then walked to the store. All the day through he worked as usual, perhaps with a slight increase of energy, but with all his wits about him. Towards six o'clock he happened to be standing just outside his office when the Lenzes, dressed in their best clothes, came down the stairs towards him. The shop was filled with customers availing themselves of the comparative coolness of the evening to make their purchases. No one of the clerks had time to notice the outgoing couple or the short conversation which took place between Lenz and Tryon.

" Going out, Mr. Lenz.? " asked Tryon carelessly.

" Yes, sir, but we come back before twelve hour and den I set everjtink in order."

The man appeared to have more to say; but Tryon turned away smiling, and Mrs. Lenz drew her spouse towards the back door. With their departure Tryon felt that his last anxiety was lifted. An hour or so later he sat in his office alone. In half an hour more he had posted his books in his usual, firm, clear hand. It was still quite light. He went up the staircase looking round each room as he went. When he reached the third floor he walked to one of the front windows and threw it up. By an instinct of carefulness when he returned to the staircase he went up the narrow stairs which were unprotected by a hand-rail, to the fourth floor and looked round the bare attic. On his right stood a wooden partition which cut off* the Lenzes' abode from the rest of the huge space ; he saw their door ; it was closed. Of course, he thought, they've locked it till their return. He went down the stairs again and stopped before the petroleum cask which stood in the corner formed by his office ; it was covered from view by a piece of cloth (damaged goods), which lay on it half unrolled. In the short interval which had elapsed since he had ascended the stairs, it had grown dark. By moving a step or two, however, he could still see to the top of the flight, but while he looked the shadows came and shrouded everything in night and mystery. He needed no light. He knew it was about nine o'clock and that was the hour he had fixed upon as most favourable to his purpose — a little earlier and business people were still about, a little later and the frequenters of saloons and bars would be on their homeward way. His fire had a clear hour or so in which to do its work ; less than half that time he had decided would be more than sufficient. Quietly he moved to the back-door, drew aside the green curtain and peered out over the empty lot. Nothing stirred. He could just see dimly across the lane to the backs of the houses which fronted north on Jackson Street; their outlines cast shadows against the sky. Nothing stirred. He dropped the curtain and returned to the cask of petroleum ; he didn't even lift up the cloth which covered it ; he put his hand down underneath it and — turned the tap. He had studied the floor carefully weeks ago; he knew that the number of people passing up and down the staircase must have depressed the floor there. He heard nothing but the glug, glug, glug, of the running oil, which seemed to keep time to the strong thumping of his heart. A few moments and the glug, glug grew slower and then silence reigned again. He had drawn a step or two backwards just to make sure that none of the oil spreading should come on his boots.

Now he struck a wax-match, and looked. Everything had taken place just as he had planned it. The petroleum had run from the corner, and now lay in a broad pool at the foot of the stairs, spreading two, oily, dark arms around it as if to embrace its prey. Just on the edge of the pool stood his basket of waste-paper, and reaching from the basket to the dry floor a long horn of paper. For a moment Tryon paused, but only 12T for a moment ; then he stepped forward and put the match to the end of the paper-horn. As the paper caught fire he turned and walked quickly to the back-door. He opened it and looked out for a minute or so while he unlocked the outside iron grating: nothing stirred. He entered the store again, and, holding the door nearly shut in his hand, he put his foot against the large pane of glass and pressed steadily. Suddenly it broke under the pressure and fell jingling. Nothing stirred, and yet he uttered an exclamation to deceive a possible listener. People later, would think the glass was broken b}' the heat. It was worth risking to create a thorough draught. One glance backward showed him the thick horn of paper blazing. Quickly he stepped outside and shut the door. As he put the key in the lock he heard above its grating a sort of hissing noise. He peered about him. Nothinoc stirred ; silence and darkness enfolded him. Standing in front of the broken window, he put his hand carefully through and drew a small piece of the curtain aside, then, stooping, he looked in.

At once he let the curtain go, and, turning, passed through the iron grating, which he locked. As he went to the lane and walked down it he felt a glow of heat on his back — fancy, of course; but it wasn't fancy the great flame w^hich had shocked his eyes a moment ago, and which still seemed to blind him. It wasn't fancy either that crackling noise of dry wood blazing. But he hadn't gone fifty yards down the lane before the breathless excitement left him, giving place to a feeling of satisfaction. He had done 128 his work well, as he always did, and if nothing stirred and no one had seen him, that was only what experience had taught him to expect. As he walked rapidly towards the German saloon his satisfaction grew almost to exultation. He had foreseen everything; planned everything rightly, even to the draught, and now the wood under the staircase was blazing, and the staircase itself a tunnel of flame. Half an hour and Boulger's store would be afire so that no engines could extinguish the flames till the floors fell in, leaving the blackened walls to be gazed at by a crowd, as when Treadwell's burned down in the winter. And no one had seen him ; he knew beforehand that it was a hundred chances to one that no one would,* and with the long odds went success — Georgie and money, and a full, strong life of successful labour. That was the difference between men like himself and criminals. Those who committed crimes, as a rule, were degraded and debased specimens of humanity, who had neither foresight nor coolness. He had both, therefore everything went well with him. With these thoughts and in the mood they indicate, he reached the saloon. It was nearly empty; he took his usual seat and called for a glass of lager-bier. Instinctively when in the light he looked at his right foot — no, neither the oil nor the glass had marked it; he was too cool, had taken too much care to make any slightest mistake. As the Kellner brought him his beer Tryon watched to see if the man noticed anything unusual in his appearance or manner. No; with a " Goot evenin' ! " the man put the glass before him, 129 and turned away indifferently. Reassured, Tryon set himself to consider once again, as he had often considered in the last few days, the question whether any one could connect him with the fire? No — no one. Suspicion there might be. It was to Boulger's interest that the store should be burned; the insurance was very heavy, and therefore he, or some one moved by him, might have done the work, but then Boulger's name was good, and of proof or of connecting link there wasn't a trace.