Chapter 23
"Wait! Parson Smawley married us, in church, a.s.sisted by the local dominie. I didn't count on the dominie. It was her father's idea. He b.u.t.ted in."
"Then is it--is it----?"
"That's what I'm not sure about. You see, the Parson did it, but the dominie stuck around. Whether he got a half nelson on me I don't know till I ask. Anyway, I expected to clinch things--later--so it doesn't really matter, unless Max Venem means bad. Does he, do you think?"
"He _always_ does, Eddie."
"Yes, I know. Well, then, I'll wait for a cable from you. And if I've got to take three months off in Paris, why I've got to--that's all."
"Good G.o.d! What about Stein? What about the theaytre?"
"_You'll_ handle it for the first three months.... Say, I've got to go, now. I think she's waiting----"
"Who?"
"My--wife."
"Oh!"
"Yes. The chauffeur took her back to the house in the car to put something in her suitcase that she forgot. I'm waiting for her here at the Gayfield House. We're on our way to town. Going to motor in. Our trunks have gone by rail."
After a silence, Stull's voice sounded again, tense, constrained:
"You better go aboard tonight."
"That's right, too."
"What's your s.h.i.+p?"
"_Lusitania._"
"What'll I tell Stein?"
"Tell him I'll be back in a month. You look out for my end. I'll be back in time."
"Will you cable me?"
"Sure. And if you get any later information about Max today, call me at the Knickerbocker. We'll dine there and then go aboard."
"I get you.... Say, Eddie, I'm that worried! If this break of yours don't kill our luck----"
"Don't you believe it! I'm going to fight for what I got till someone hands me the count. She's the first thing I ever wanted. I've got her and I guess I can keep her.... And listen: there's nothing like her in all G.o.d's world!"
"When did you do--it?" demanded Stull, coldly.
"This morning at eleven. I just stepped over here to the garage. I'm talking to you from the bar. She's back by this time and waiting, I guess. So take care of yourself till I see you."
"Same to you, Eddie. And be leery of Max. He's _bad_. When they disbar a man like that he's twice as dangerous as he was. His ex-partner, Abe Grittlefeld, is a certain party's attorney of record. Ask yourself what you'd be up against if that pair of wolves get started after you!
You know what Max would do
"Don't worry."
"I _am_ worrying! And you ought to. You know what you done to Max.
Don't think he ever forgets. He'll do you if he can, same as Minna will."
Brandes' stolid face lost a little of its sanguine colour, where he stood in the telephone box behind the bar of the Gayfield House.
Yes, he knew well enough what he had once done to the disbarred lawyer out in Athabasca when he was handling the Unknown and Venem, the disbarred, was busy looking out for the Athabasca Blacksmith, furnis.h.i.+ng the corrupt brains for the firm of Venem and Grittlefeld, and paying steady court to the prettiest girl in Athabasca, Ilse Dumont.
And Brandes' Unknown had almost killed Max Venem's blacksmith; Brandes had taken all Venem's money, and then his girl; more than that, he had "made" this girl, in the theatrical sense of the word; and he had gambled on her beauty and her voice and had won out with both.
Then, while still banking her salary to reimburse himself for his trouble with her, he had tired of her sufficiently to prove unfaithful to his marriage vows at every opportunity. And opportunities were many. Venem had never forgiven him; Ilse Dumont could not understand treachery; and Venem's detectives furnished her with food for thought that presently infuriated her.
And now she was employing Max Venem, once senior partner in the firm of Venem and Grittlefeld, to guide her with his legal advice. She wanted Brandes' ruin, if that could be accomplished; she wanted her freedom anyway.
Until he had met Rue Carew he had taken measures to fight the statutory charges, hoping to involve Venem and escape alimony. Then he met Ruhannah, and became willing to pay for his freedom. And he was still swamped in the vile bog of charges and countercharges, not yet free from it, not yet on solid ground, when the eternal gambler in him suggested to him that he take the chance of marrying this young girl before he was legally free to do so.
Why on earth did he want to take such a chance? He had only a few months to wait. He had never before really cared for any woman. He loved her--as he understood love--as much as he was capable of loving.
If in all the world there was anything sacred to him, it was his sentiment regarding Rue Carew. Yet, he was tempted to take the chance.
Even she could not escape his ruling pa.s.sion; at the last a.n.a.lysis, even she represented to him a gambler's chance. But in Brandes there was another streak. He wanted to take the chance that he could marry her before he had a right to, and get away with it. But his nerve failed. And, at the last moment, he had hedged, engaging Parson Smawley to play the lead instead of an ordained clergyman.
All these things he now thought of as he stood undecided, worried, in the telephone booth behind the bar at the Gayfield House. Twice Stull had spoken, and had been bidden to wait and to hold the wire.
Finally, shaking off the premonition of coming trouble, Brandes called again:
"Ben?"
"Yes, I'm listening."
"I'll stay in Paris if there's trouble."
"And throw Stein down?"
"What else is there to do?"
"Well, you can wait, can't you? You don't seem to be able to do that any more, but you better learn."
"All right. What next?"
"Make a quick getaway. _Now!_"
"Yes, I'm going at once. Keep me posted, Ben. Be good!"
He hung up and went out to the wide, tree-shaded street where Ruhannah sat in the runabout awaiting him, and the new chauffeur stood by the car.
He took off his straw hat, pulled a cap and goggles from his pocket.
His man placed the straw hat in the boot.