The Triumph of Virginia Dale Part 10

Obadiah saw, and, admitting the strength of his daughter's argument to himself, recognized that it had logical strength as a plea for a series of rides. He dropped the matter promptly and in this was a.s.sisted by the gong calling them to a belated luncheon.

Virginia, because of the excitement of the morning, had little appet.i.te.

She watched her father for a time and then her eyes took on a deeper blue as, without averting her gaze, she drifted away into one of those mysterious musings of girlhood.

He gulped his food hastily as if he had a train to catch. "I should be back," he fretted. "My time is worth money. You must learn to be considerate of others, Virginia."

The shadow of unhappiness veiled the face of dreams as the girl started at his words. "I am very thoughtless, I am afraid, Daddy," she answered. "I shall try to be more careful." And then in a whisper so low that he could not hear it, she continued, "It would make mother unhappy to know that I was that way."

"You should overcome your faults, particularly your thoughtlessness in regard to others," he grumbled, and immediately changed the subject.

"Do you know the name of the fellow who ran into you?"

"No, Daddy."

He considered a moment. "Don't you bother about it." He gave her a smile and the traces of her unhappiness faded before it. "I will have some one call up the hospital. I must take the matter up with Wilkins."

"Honey, chil', ain' yo'all gwine res' you'se'f dis afternoon?"

Serena demanded, as they arose from the table.

"In a minute, Serena, I want to ask Daddy something."

She hurried after him. There was almost a trace of embarra.s.sment in her voice, as she asked, "Daddy, may I go to the hospital tomorrow and visit that man?"

"What?" Obadiah was surprised. "Why on earth should you want to do that?"

"I think I should. I told Ike to hurry, as I explained to you. If I hadn't done that the man would not have been hurt." She gave a woeful little sigh. "I helped to take him to the hospital and so I feel acquainted with him."

A shrewd, calculating look swept over Obadiah's face. "That's a most informal introduction, I am thinking. However, it will do no harm to get on friendly terms with that fellow. I suppose that it will mean a suit, anyway, but I won't oppose your going."

Virginia's face lighted with happiness and pride. "Daddy dear, you have the kindest and most thoughtful heart. You are always trying to do something nice," she laughed, softly. "You've made a mistake this time, and you will have to think of something else. The man in the hospital doesn't need clothes. I noticed that his were not hurt in the accident."

"_Clothes_," cried Obadiah, much perplexed by the tribute to himself and the subsequent explanation. "Who said anything about clothes?"

Suddenly, understanding came to him. "I'll swear--" promised the astounded manufacturer.

Virginia quickly kissed him squarely upon the mouth.

"No, you won't," she said, her eyes tender with love and pride, "you are much too good and generous and n.o.ble to do that."

For an instant, Obadiah appeared about to contradict his daughter, but, changing his mind, he hurried out to his waiting car and pressed the b.u.t.ton on the horn.

At the signal, Ike appeared, coming hurriedly from the kitchen. As he advanced, he deposited in his mouth the remains of a slice of pie.

Because of the unfortunate events of the morning, the procurement of this pastry partook of the nature of a diplomatic triumph. Ike had but little pride in this. His mind was upon weightier matters. As he approached his employer, he bolted the remnants in a manner conducive neither to his present dignity nor future health.

Obadiah endeavored to fix the shifting glance of his chauffeur with a piercing eye. "Ike," he demanded, roughly, "how did that accident occur?"

"Yas'r, dat man come er speedin' down Secon' Street an' ran smack bang into dis yere caah. He dent it wid his haid," the chauffeur testified glibly.

"Show me the dent!"

Ike promptly indicated a slight depression in the body of the car above a rear fender.

"You did that when you ran into a coal truck and smashed the fender."

Ike was greatly astonished but admitted erroneous conclusions. "Ah mek er mistake. Dat man mus' er landed on de wheel den."

"Don't make any more mistakes about this accident," the manufacturer rapped. "Virginia tells me that you were coming out Forest Avenue and that this fellow was going down Second Street."

Ike considered this with care, that deception be eliminated. "Yas'r, Miss Virginny ain' mek no mistake, neither."

Obadiah glared at his humble retainer. "He was on your right hand then?" he suggested.

"Ah dis'remembers jes whar dat man c.u.m f'om, Misto Dale. He c.u.m so fas' it plum slip ma mind." Ike scratched his head thoughtfully. "It done gone f'om me."

"He was going down Second Street towards the Court House and you were coming out home, weren't you?"

"Yas'r, dat's jes de way o' it."

"Then, he approached you on your right hand. He had the right of way."

"Misto Dale, dat man done took all de way."

"You know he had the right of way under the law," bawled Obadiah, provoked by the stupidity of his servitor.

"Yas'r, dat's de law." A most flattering note of admiration for his employer's legal ac.u.men crept into Ike's voice. "Misto Dale, yo'all sutinly knows de law."

"Never mind what I know," roared Obadiah, thrusting compliments rudely aside. "If that fellow hit my car you must have been in his way."

"No, sar, Ah was er gwine to hit 'im, 'ceptin' he dodge. He done c.u.m so quick ah ain' seen 'im 'till he whar der. Yas'r."

Puzzled at what he had unearthed, Obadiah sought illumination along other lines. "How fast was that fellow running, Ike, when he hit you?"

The chauffeur lifted his eyes heavenward as if seeking inspiration. A crow winged its way slowly across the sky. He followed it critically as if using its speed as a measure for the estimate sought. "'Bout seventy seven mile er hour," he ventured.

Obadiah boiled. "Seventy seven miles an hour on Second Street is absurd," he blurted. "It's too rough. A man would have to fly to do it."

"Yas'r dat's. .h.i.t. He was er flyin'. Jest er hittin' de high places."

Obadiah scorched his menial with a look which should have reduced him to a cinder.

Ike shifted uneasily under the unkind gaze of his indignant employer as he waited further interrogation.

"How fast were you running?" Obadiah's tone was as warm as his aspect.

Ike deemed it advisable at this point to make his statements general.

"Ah drives cafful. Safety furst, dat's ma motta."

"I have heard that nonsense of yours before. What I want to know,"

Obadiah bleated in a high falsetto, "is, how fast were you going?"