The Street of the City (15 page)

Willoughby had not come home with her that night. He had explained to her in the morning that he would have to leave the plant early in the afternoon and was not sure of returning until late. He had an engagement that evening that was rather upsetting his routine. He had asked her to be very watchful and go up to another landing before starting to skate home, in case those boys might take advantage of his absence to annoy her again.

So Frannie knew that Willoughby would not be coming that night and was perceptive enough to realize that this was probably the end of his kindly espionage. Also, probably the end of her seeing him at all.

Which was as it should be
, she told herself. He did not belong to her as a close friend. He had a different background, belonged to the aristocracy as that yellow-haired girl had blandly said. He wasn’t her rightful companion. She was a working girl now, and while he was a working man, still it was different with men. They were supposed to work. Even social life recognized that, and she might as well understand and accept it. Of course, her own people were cultured and educated, and until her father died she had not had to work. But work was no disgrace, and while she would not for the world assume a social position that those around her would not accept, she had nothing to be ashamed of. Why, even the wealthy girls were running around now trying to find jobs and camouflaging them under the name of “defense.” It was just a silly social notion, and she wasn’t going to be bothered about it at all. But, of course, she mustn’t let herself get any foolish ideas about this young man. Probably it was a good thing that that obnoxious girl came to warn her or she might, unaware, have become more interested in him than she realized.

So she resolutely put aside all thoughts of the young man who had for the last two or three days made such a bright thought in the midst of her hard-working hours. She made herself concentrate on getting the house in order. This was Saturday night and she had all day tomorrow to rest up and get herself organized for the life that was beginning before her, and she didn’t need any of Marietta’s dances either to give it a cheerful slant. She had her little home and her mother and sister, and was glad and thankful for them. Tomorrow, perhaps, she could find a church somewhere near enough for her mother to walk to when she got well. That would be one of the first things her mother would want when she was able to go out again, the right kind of a church.

So Frannie went up and had a cheery little talk with her mother, telling her all the little pleasantnesses she could find in her day of work, describing Mr. Chalmers and a few of the girls who worked at nearby desks, trying to make her mother see how really pleasant it was, with the frozen river outside making a path straight home when she was done with her work. Not an unpleasant moment in the whole tale.

Then they discussed what kind of church they would like to find. Not a large one, the mother hoped, nor a rich one. Only a plain one where the Truth would be taught and where they would have a good Sunday school for Bonnie. Then Frannie kissed her mother good night and went to wash out some stockings and get her clothes in readiness for tomorrow and for the week that was to follow. So at last she came to the end of the day where soon she could lie down and go to sleep with a clear conscience, not having taken any time out to hate that interfering girl who had come around trying to humiliate her. She resolved she would not give a thought to it either while she was on the way to sleep.

It was while she was running the water and working away at her washing that a low knock came at the back door downstairs. It happened that Nurse Branner had gone down to the kitchen to heat some milk for her patient before she went to sleep.

A little startled, she opened the door and looked out, wondering why anybody would come to the back door at this time of night. But she was not a timid woman, so she had no hesitation in opening the door. She was, however, a little astonished as she saw a short, heavy-set man standing there in front of the door, his hat pulled down over his eyes and his mouth set in a determined line.

“What do you want?” she asked in a cool voice, setting her broad foot in such a way as to block the entrance of anyone trying to get in.

“Good evening, lady. I was just wondering if you could tell me a few statistics. I’ve been sent here to find out some things. I know it’s late, lady, but my work kept me late tonight, and I had so many places to go getting these facts that I got delayed. This is my last stop, so if you don’t mind, will you tell me, have your folks bought this house or do you rent it?”

“Rent!” said Nurse Branner crisply, and tried to think what Frannie had told her.

“Oh, you do! Well now, I wonder if you’ve signed a contract or was it just a verbal transaction?” said the man.

Nurse Branner was clever. She knew it did not do to hesitate.

“A contract, of course,” she snapped. “Is that all?”

“Well, no it ain’t,” said Mike, with an apologetic grin. “But if you’ll just get me that contract and let me look it over I can get all the rest of the necessary data from it. It will save us both a lot of time.”

Nurse Branner was on her guard, besides she had sensed a shadowy form down on the ice in the darkness of a lot of dead bushes. She was letting no one into that house tonight!

“Sorry,” she said. “Contracts are kept in safety deposit boxes in the bank. You will probably have to go to the bank to get that information. Good night!” and she shut the door firmly, turning the key in the lock, and then she shot the big iron bolt noisily across into place.

When she turned the kitchen lights out and took a peek through the tiny pantry window, she saw two figures, a tall thin one and a short, stout one, slipping stealthily away along the shore and then climbing to a parked car higher up the stream. She began to wonder if, after all, this river site was so desirable for three lone women.

She went upstairs after a little while, settled her patient for the night, and then watched out the window again for a long time, but saw no more stealthy shadows on the ice.

But after she lay down in her bed she couldn’t get to sleep for some time, wondering what that man had really wanted. He didn’t look exactly like a crook, and yet he didn’t seem to be the sort of man who would be sent out near midnight Saturday night to get statistics. She must warn Frannie never to let strangers into the house at night. Should she tell her about this strange caller at the back door? Frannie wouldn’t have heard him because the water was running in the tub. But maybe she ought to tell her. Or perhaps she had better ask the doctor first, or Val Willoughby, if he came over pretty soon. She would have to think about it.

And so the nurse slept, and the two men drove away again.

“I think she was lying,” said Granniss.

“No sir, she was talkin’ straight,” said Mike. “I was there and you wasn’t, sir, beggin’ yer pardon. I can tell when a dame is talkin’ straight.”

“She was scared by our coming to the back door.”

“No sir, she wasn’t fazed in the least. Her voice was that pleasant, and she was one of them dames that don’t get scared.”

“But people in a house like that wouldn’t have sense to demand a contract. Not people that lived in a ratty little old house like that. They probably don’t know what a contract is.”

“Mebbe they got better sense than the house they live in,” said Mike with a touch of his native humor. “They do sometimes. And if you’d been near you’d have seen how quick she answered that ‘of course’ they had a contract.”

“Well, I’d like to know why you didn’t ask what bank that safety deposit box is in and what time she’d meet us there, then?”

“Well, because she didn’t give me no time. She closed the door that quick and then shot the bolt. And besides I think that owner will be coming home on Monday, and then we won’t have to run no more risks of gettin’ pinched because we scared a coupla women. We’d cook our goose in earnest if that happened.”

“That must not happen!” announced Granniss severely. “If anything like that happened you would find yourself on the spot. Do you understand?”

“Now, Granniss, you promised me that if I tackled this business I wouldn’t be in no trouble at all,” said Mike in alarm.

“Yes, I told you that, Mike, on condition that you would get this site turned over to me within the week, and the time is up now and you haven’t got the initial move started. Another day or two and it will be too late. The conditions I’m counting on for working this deal will be off. Understand?”

“Well, just give me a coupla days more, Granniss, and I’m sure I can pull it off.”

“Well, see that you make it snappy then,” said the big man as he stopped to let Mike off at his house. “This is the last time I’m warning you. And meantime I’m going to look up a substitute go-between. You see, Mike, this ice is liable to get tacky or crack or something, and we’ve got to get our materials up here on runners in the night so nobody will suspect what’s coming till it’s here, or there’ll be a great outcry and you’ll get the ladies on the other side of the river all stirred up about commercializing their precious river. We don’t want that till we’ve got so far they can’t stop us. Now, Mike, you get hold of that owner and report to me by Monday morning early or else I’m going places without you!”

So Mike and Granniss parted company, and the dwellers in the little brick house slept on unthreatened.

V
al Willoughby barely got back to his aunt’s home from the business that had taken him away that afternoon in time to change for the evening and snatch a bite of supper from a tray he persuaded the butler into bringing him while he was dressing.

He didn’t want to go to the concert. Not that he did not enjoy music, and wouldn’t always be glad to hear it whatever he was doing. But he was not especially enamored of the company in which he was going. He had nothing against Marietta, as a mere concert companion, except that she would talk all the time the music was going on, and not only spoil the delight of the whole program for him but also bring down frowns and reproof from those people who had the misfortune to be sitting near them. Besides he was sure that Marietta had some ulterior motive in thus pursuing him. She was probably plotting in some way to involve him in one of her wild plans under the impression that she was doing a great deal for her country and democracy. He felt that his job this evening was smilingly to refuse her insistence and pleasantly lead her thoughts to nice safe subjects, giving her the impression that she had a lovely time. He was wondering as he brushed his hair, meantime humming a strain from the symphony he knew was to be played that evening, whether it would be at all possible really to interest Marietta in the music itself. Suppose he set himself to make her see something in the wonderful strains beyond just a big noise that it was smart to seem to enjoy. Why not try it? It certainly would be something worthwhile if it were possible.

Then out on the road in front of the house he heard a car drive up, and an expensive sounding horn summoned him to begin the evening. He quickly swallowed the last drop of his coffee, swung into his overcoat, grabbed his top hat, and went down to his task. He had not much idea he would succeed, but he certainly would find out once for all whether there was really anything to Marietta except a big will to have her own way.

And Marietta, down in her luxurious car, watched his room light go out promptly and rehearsed in her mind the points she meant to cover for Willoughby’s instruction during the evening. She had far more confidence of victory in her endeavor than the young man could muster for his own endeavor. He had tried different things on Marietta before, and always failed. But this time he meant to give her a real tryout.

So he climbed into her luxurious car with a fairly cheerful mind.

Then, they had no sooner started on their way than Marietta opened the conversation. Marietta never wasted any time in getting at her latest topic of interest, and she had decided that it would be as well to get the unpleasant part of her evening over first and then she could enjoy the rest. Not that she would own that even her first approach was going to be unpleasant. She had all assurance that she would win, and she perhaps enjoyed the thought of setting Val Willoughby straight. So she began as soon as they were well out on the main road to the city.

“Val, there’s something I ought to tell you, and I may as well get it off my conscience first before we get to talking about anything else and I forget it.”

“Yes?” said Willoughby, wondering what trick she was going to pull now. Marietta always had plenty of surprises, and he had not been unprepared for something in an unusual line this evening, but he had hardly expected her to begin quite so soon.

“Yes?” he said casually, looking at her perfect little lips with their unusual set of firmness, or spoiled-childness…which was it? He was not so much concerned about what she was going to say, because he did not intend to do anything she asked, and he had a pleasant “No” with plenty of alibis prepared for every request.

“Well, you see, Val, people have begun to talk about you, and I knew, of course, you weren’t aware of it and that you ought to be prepared.”

Willoughby laughed. Strange that Marietta should be met in all her uplifting tasks by a laugh, but she was so intent she didn’t notice.

“Talk about me?” he said with a chuckle. “Heavens! What difference does that make? Though I can’t for the life of me imagine what they could find that would be of interest enough to say more than a sentence or two. Don’t worry about a little thing like that, Marietta. It won’t bother me in the least.”

“Oh, but you ought to care, Val,” said the pretty lips. “You really ought. It’s important. It definitely is! If not for yourself, then for the sake of your friends. It isn’t pleasant to have things that are not nice said about someone you’ve been close to practically all your life.”

Willoughby gave her a puzzled look.

“Well, I see you’ve got something on your mind. Go ahead and tell me and let’s get it over. What is it?” he said.