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  CHAPTER XIX

  The few barefooted, tattered urchins of Valley City had scamperedhomeward through the quiet street, swept along upon the high tide ofglee. Bat Truxton had got drunk again; Mr. Crawford had fired him;Miss Jocelyn had gone away with him to Crawfordsville; there was everyreason for their glad optimism to see a long vacation before them.What was the importance of reclamation somewhere off in the mistyfuture when vacation, unexpected and thence all the more delectable,smiled upon them now?

  "Mr. Crawford has been just as mean to poor papa as he could be," MissJocelyn had confided to them, in tear-dampened scornfulness. "Papadoesn't want me to teach, anyway. And"--with a sniff and a toss of herhead--"we'll be in town now where we can enjoy ourselves."

  It is not a pretty thing to contradict a lady, but certainly if MissJocelyn's papa made the remark which she attributed to him it musthave been at some time prior to his return from the camp to ValleyCity; prior, too, to his exit from Valley City to Crawfordsville. Forher papa went out of the Valley reclining wordlessly upon a thickpadding of quilts in the bed of a big wagon, with his few householdeffects so arranged about him as to screen him from the sun and thecurious gaze of a chance passer-by, and in no condition to expresshimself upon any matter whatever.

  There was in Crawfordsville, upon a pleasant, shady avenue, a littlevine-covered cottage belonging to Bat Truxton, and thither the bigwagon conveyed him, his scornful daughter, and his few householdeffects. And there shortly after twilight upon the third day after theclosing of school in Valley City Mr. Roger Hapgood, sartoriallyimmaculate in shining raiment, glorious as to tie and silken socks,presented himself.

  Miss Jocelyn Truxton, a big, yellow-hearted rose peeping forth at himfrom a carefully careless profusion of brown hair, came out upon theporch at his knock, smiled at him saucily, and offered him her hand.

  "How do you do, Mr. Hapgood? We didn't expect you again so soon. Ithought that maybe you had forgotten us." And then, blushing prettilyover the hand which Mr. Hapgood was still holding ardently in his,"Won't you come in?"

  Mr. Hapgood, having assured her that he should forget all else in theworld before he forgot her, called her attention to the fact that itwas a deucedly fine evening, and that it would be too bad to lose anyof it by going into the house. His smile and eloquent eyes pointed outthat there was a not uncomfortable rustic bench, large enough toaccommodate two nicely, at the cozy, vine-sheltered end of the porch.

  "And how is Mr. Truxton?" he asked, his tone gently solicitous, whenthey were seated.

  "I have had Dr. Biggs call since you were here," she told him,assuming the pose which a certain Broadway favorite had discovered(the photograph of the leading lady in this particular pose had beencut from the latest theatrical gazette which now lay upon thesitting-room table; it is denied us to enter the room set aside forMiss Jocelyn to see if the picture be pinned to the wall over herdresser!)--a pose which was not lost to the appreciative and admiringeyes of Mr. Hapgood. "Dr. Biggs says that papa's is a high-strung,nervous disposition which at times makes the taking of--of a littlealcohol absolutely necessary. And that the--the stimulant is liable toupset him. It is entirely a nervous trouble, and in a few days, withperfect rest, he will be well again."

  Mr. Hapgood nodded gravely, sympathetically.

  "Mr. Truxton has been so great a factor in the reclamation project--hehas been the very heart and soul of the actual work done--that Iwonder how Mr. Crawford's schemes will get along without him?"

  "I hope they fail," cried Jocelyn, hotly. "Papa has given the best inhim to help them, and look how they send him adrift when--when hemakes one little slip!"

  "Do you know why Crawford really let him go?" Hapgood, speaking inhushed tones, continued to eye her keenly. "Don't you know thatCrawford was just waiting and looking for an excuse--any excuse?"

  Jocelyn turned widening eyes upon him. "What do you mean?"

  Hapgood gave the impression of a man hesitating over a serious matter.And then, with a sudden burst of something remarkably like ingenuousardor, he exclaimed:

  "Why should I say anything? Perhaps I should keep my peace and letmatters take their own course. I have a distinctive dislike tointerfering in any way with the affairs of other people. And yet, MissJocelyn, I feel so strong an interest in you--you will forgive me ifI have to speak plainly; you will pardon me when you know I mean nooffense?--that I cannot keep my peace." A momentary struggle betweenhis desire to befriend her and his dislike to say evil of others, andthen with vehement intensity, "I will _not_ remain silent."

  Whereupon he became immediately silent and remained so until thecuriosity which he had fired urged him to go on.

  "When Conniston left the Half Moon and went to work in the Valleyunder your father"--leaning forward, his low-toned voice again deeplyconfidential--"the whole plot was laid and perfected. He was to workthere until he had learned all that Mr. Truxton could teach him, untilthe greater part of the work had been done, and then your father wasto be discharged so that Conniston could take his place. Yes, and sothat when the work was completed--the work which your own father hadmade possible--Conniston would reap the rewards of it, take all thehonors."

  He paused suddenly, and again his pale eyes, intent upon the girl'sface, were keen with the shrewdness in them. Jocelyn sprang to herfeet, her face flaming, her body tense.

  "The--the wretches!" she gasped.

  Roger Hapgood made no reply, content for the moment to rest upon hisoars, watching the boat he had launched drift as it would.

  "Why," asked Jocelyn, after a little, her face puzzled--"why do youtell me this, when you are one of Mr. Crawford's lawyers?"

  He lifted his hand as though warding off a blow.

  "Don't say that! Miss Jocelyn, did you think that I was the sort ofman, so forgetful of his manhood, that I would remain in the serviceof such people when I had found them out? Did you dream that I couldremain a part of a project a second after such a man as Conniston hadbeen put at the head of it? Did you think," half sadly, halfreproachfully, "that I could continue my affiliations with such menafter the treatment which Mr. Truxton--_your father_--had received?Miss Jocelyn, I went straight to Mr. Winston and handed him myresignation. Thank God that if I must give up my position I can atleast keep my self-respect!"

  It was very effectively done, and Jocelyn thrilled with it.

  "I am so sorry!" she said, softly, her light touch sympathetic uponhis arm. "So sorry that because of us--"

  "Don't say it--please don't, Miss Jocelyn! I can never forget that itwas I, no matter how innocently, who helped them in getting the excusethey were looking for. And don't you see, I shall feel in a way thatmy fortune is linked with yours, I shall feel that there are certainbonds between us, I shall feel that in a small, very small way I ambeing of some light service to your father and," very softly--"and toyou."

  "But what will you do? You have so few friends here. This is a newcountry to you--"

  "For a moment I thought of returning immediately to the East. But Icould not. Why? I won't tell you now; I dare not." He paused longenough to look the things which short acquaintance forbade him saying,and then, as though shaking himself mentally, went on, "What shall Ido? I have already done it. Just so long as I thought blindly that theright was with us I worked for reclamation as a man does not oftenwork. And now that the scales have dropped from my eyes, do Ihesitate? I have gone to Mr. Swinnerton. I have offered him myservices. And he has seen fit to accept them. And now I shall not haveto sit idly by, my hands in my lap, waiting to see the Crawfords reapthe rewards and assume the honors which belong--elsewhere!"

  Jocelyn had read stories of heroes. Never before had she known what itwas to find herself in the actual bodily presence of one of thesecreatures. And small wonder she thrilled again, not alone because ofthe fact that this great-hearted gentleman had sacrificed himself uponthe altar of righteousness, but, further, that in the reasons for suchself-immolation had entered thoughts of her. A real, perfectlydelightful romance was bei
ng enacted, and _she_ was its heroine!

  "You are very good," she murmured, quite as the heroine should. "Andpapa will appreciate it when I tell him. And," shyly, "if you care toknow it, I think that your generous kindness is the finest thing Ihave ever known."

  It was the psychological time for a love avowal. But Mr. Hapgood hadnot played out his other role. He rose hastily, looking at his watch.

  "I stopped in for just a moment," he said, quickly. "I am on my way tothe post-office. I expect some important mail to-night. By the way,"stopping with a glove half drawn on, "if your father cares to accept aposition again soon I think that I know of one which would suit him.Mr. Swinnerton wants a competent engineer to aid him in a bit of work.I took the liberty to mention Mr. Truxton to him. He was delighted atthe bare mention of your father's name. But"--and again the oldshrewd look crept into his eyes--"maybe Mr. Truxton does not care towork against the reclamation? Maybe he is willing to see the Crawfordsand that Conniston fellow succeed in their scheme?"

  "I am going right in to talk with papa," she told him, quickly. "I amgoing to tell him the real truth. And I think, Mr. Hapgood, that youcan tell Mr. Swinnerton that papa will come out to see him to-morrow orthe next day."

  Mr. Hapgood took the hand which she held out to him, bestowed upon hera look which spoke of warm admiration tinged with half-melancholylonging, sighed, relinquished her hand with a gentle pressure, and randown the steps.

  "Good night, Jocelyn," he called, softly, from the little gate.

  "Good night, Roger," she whispered.