The Way of the Strong Part 86

At last she could stand it no longer. She broke from her companion, and flew down the trail as fast as her active young limbs could carry her.

She must be the first to convey the good news to the breaking heart of the man who remained standing, like one paralyzed, by the porch of his splendid home.

On she ran, on and on, till she came to the bend where the river turned away, and the open trail went straight on, and the bluffs of Everton lay in full view.

Here she halted and gazed out. For some moments she stood watching, watching. Then, at last, she turned and began to run back, waving her hands in a frenzy of ecstasy as she came.

In a few moments she was within hailing distance of the man, and she halted.

"Four of them!" she gasped frantically. "Four of them in the car!

Frank's brought him! Frank's brought him!"

CHAPTER XX

THE STORY OF LEO

It was evening. The afterglow of sunset still shed its golden radiance upon a blackened world, striving vainly to burnish with its gentle l.u.s.ter the depressing aspect of charred fields. The cool August breezes, usually so fresh and sweet at sundown, were tainted, scarcely unpleasantly, with the reek of dead fire.

Two figures, apparently absorbed in themselves, were pacing slowly the broad trail which fronted Deep Willows. They were talking, talking earnestly of those things which concerned their lives, while their anxious hearts were waiting with almost sickening dread, for the moment when a summons should reach them, that they might learn the verdict of hope or disaster which Providence had in store for them.

They knew, these two, these boy and girl lovers, that the life of the one they had learned to love so dearly was hovering in the balance.

They knew that the great surgeon, who had journeyed so far, and under such strenuous conditions, was waging the human side of a great battle.

Was he once more to be victorious over Death, or would that ruthless specter at last defy him? The man was accounted infallible by a thankful world. He had come to the rescue fully prepared for a great fight. He had brought not only his own dresser, but also his own anesthetist, while two competent nurses and another medical man were on the premises. So these two hoped, while their hearts were yet plunged in a perfect maelstrom of fears.

They were striving with all their might to pa.s.s the hours of waiting.

Professor Hinkling had been with his patient from the moment of his arrival soon after noon. He was still with her now, when the great August sun had set amid its glory of fiery cloud.

Phyllis halted in her walk. Quite abruptly she raised a pair of earnest, admiring eyes to her lover's face. In their depths lay all that which can raise a man to a perfect paradise of joy and hope. Never had her woman's attraction been more evident to young Frank than at that moment. Never in his life had he realized more fully than at this moment all he had so recently striven to crush out of his life and deny himself for ever.

"Say, Frank, dear," she cried ardently. "The more I think, why, the more I just love to feel you--you are _my_ Frank, and it was you, and you only, could have brought Professor Hinkling through here. Say, you must have been well-nigh crazy with the worry--and--and anxiety. Oh, if you'd only known how we, Mr. Hendrie and I, felt standing right here to-day waiting--waiting with scarcely a reason to hope you'd make Deep Willows in time. D'you know, Mr. Hendrie was well-nigh clean crazed--sure?" She shuddered. "I never saw a crazy man before, but he was crazy then. I watched him. I was scared--scared to death."

Frank looked out over at the great house. Suddenly he breathed a deep sigh.

"I'm glad, Phyl," he said presently. "I'm glad--I got here in time. I'm glad, not only for poor Mon, but for--him." He looked down into the girl's eyes, and a half smile crept into his own: "It's all so queer,"

he went on. "I--I ought to hate that man. Yes, I ought. And I just feel like a sort of soft worm for not doing so. That's a fact, Phyl. I don't hate him. I--I like him. Do you know I seem to have seen into him, right deep down into his heart, and it's--a queer place. But I've seen something there that appeals to me. It appeals to me so big that I--simply can't hate him. It's his big manhood. He's full to the brim of something that I've never understood before. Something I'm just beginning to understand. And, d'you know, I don't believe there's nearly so much of it going around as folks pretend to believe. Do you know, Phyl, I believe if that man were dying to-morrow he'd just get right hold of Death, and--and he'd try to choke the life out of him before he'd give in."

Phyllis nodded her head wisely.

"You're right, dear," she cried impulsively. "Can you wonder he's where he is? Can you wonder he's right on top of the things other folks are shouting for, but haven't the strength, or grit to--to just grab hold of for themselves? You're feeling just like I do about him. Guess he's so big in spirit as well as body. That's why he's on top. It's--it's always the way."

"Yes," Frank admitted, "that's how you've always said--and I think--now--you're right. I didn't always think so--but I do now."

Phyllis turned away. She was gazing across at the house, and a deep look of enthusiasm and hope was shining in her eyes.

"Do you know, Frank," she said, after a pause. "I sort of feel our Mon will win out--now. No, I'm not just thinking of Professor Hinkling. I'm thinking of Mr. Hendrie. I sort of feel he's got to win out in--everything. His whole mind and heart's on Monica's recovery, and--and I believe they're too big and strong for Fate to break him.

Oh, I'm foolish, I know. I'm talking like a crazy girl, but I just can't help it. I believe he's too strong even--for Fate."

Frank, too, was gazing across at the house. A curious look had crept into his eyes. They were stern, stern and cold, and his jaws had shut tight.

Phyllis, glancing up at him, wondered. It was the first time in her life she had seen such a look in her lover's eyes. Never, even in those dark days when he had first left prison, had she seen such a look in him. And yet it was quite familiar. It was a look she knew quite well.

She started, and an irresistible impulse stirred her.

"Frank! Oh, Frank!" she cried. "If you could only see yourself. Tell me, dear. What are you thinking?"

"Thinking?"

The look had pa.s.sed. The man's eyes were now gently smiling down into the girl's eager face.

"I was thinking of you, Phyl," he said tenderly. "I was thinking of you in Mon's place, and of myself in Hendrie's. I was thinking of what I should do. Of how I should feel. I was thinking that I, too, should want to take Fate in my two hands and compel it to do my will."

His face was flushing with boyish shame at the apparent boastfulness of his words, but he had spoken the truth.

But Phyllis saw nothing of the braggart in his words.

"I knew it, I knew it," she cried, her eyes shining with love and admiration. "Your face was the face of Alexander Hendrie just now. I have seen that look in his, not once, but a hundred times, and--then it was in yours. Oh, Frank, I am so glad, so--so glad you felt like that.

I long to think and feel that now the old miserable past is over and done with, that you, too, will take life in your two strong hands, and--and fight out the big battle the Almighty has set for men. I want no man who must have others to fight for him; I want no man who will cry out weakly at every blow in the face; I want no man who will yield beneath the flail of Fate. I want the man of big courage, the man of fight. He must have the muscles of a giant, and the heart of a lion.

That man I will set up on my little altar, and so long as I live I will go down on my knees and thank G.o.d for His goodness in giving him to me."

Frank had no words in which to answer. A great pa.s.sion was sweeping through his veins and held him silent. Of a sudden his arms reached out and caught the girl's slim body in their powerful embrace, and, regardless that they were in full view of the house, he crushed her to his bosom, and kissed her pa.s.sionately.

But Phyllis was more mindful of those things, and swiftly released herself with a little cry.

"Frank!" she protested. "Frank!"

But Frank remained smilingly unrepentant.

"I don't care," he cried. "I don't care if the whole----"

He broke off with a scared look in the midst of his smile. Phyllis was pointing across at the house. The gla.s.s entrance doors had just swung to, and a man-servant was rapidly coming toward them.

"It's--it's about--Monica!" Phyllis exclaimed, in a sudden panic.

The man addressed himself to Frank.

"Mr. Hendrie would like to see you at once, sir. He's in the library now--waiting."

Frank looked into the man's inscrutable face in anxious inquiry.

"Is there--has there been any word of--Mrs. Hendrie--yet?" he questioned sharply.

The man's sigh was in perfect order with his training.