The Winds of Chance Part 52

The girl was puzzled; therefore Pierce summoned his courage and explained, with as brave an attempt at lightness as he could afford: "You see before you a victim of unhappy circ.u.mstance," a person to be shunned. I'm worse than a case of smallpox. I don't think you should be seen talking to me."

"What are you driving at?"

"I'm getting up the spiritual momentum necessary to tell you that I'm a thief! Truly. Anyhow, three choice gentlemen are so sure of it that they went to the trouble of perjuring themselves and having me arrested--"

"Arrested? YOU?"

"Exactly. And the evidence is very strong. I almost think I must be guilty."

"Are you?"

Pierce shook his head.

"Of course you're not. I remember, now--something father said at breakfast, but I paid no attention. You fought with that good- looking French count, didn't you?"

"Thank you for reminding me of the one cheerful feature connected with the entire affair. Yes, I raised my hand to him in anger--and let it fall, but Lieutenant Rock spoiled the whole party."

"Tell me everything, please."

Pierce was more than willing to oblige, and he began his recital at the time of his first meeting with Joe McCaskey on the beach at Dyea. While he talked the girl listened with that peculiar open- eyed meditative gravity he had noted upon their former meeting.

When he had finished she cried, breathlessly:

"Why, it's as exciting as a book!"

"You think so? I don't. If I were only a clever book character I'd execute some dramatic coup and confound my enemies--book people always do. But my mind is a blank, my ingenuity is at a complete standstill. I feel perfectly foolish and impotent. To save me, I can't understand how that gold got where it was, for the cashier's cage is made of wire and the door has a spring-lock. I heard it snap back of me when I followed the Count outside. I had an insane idea that his nose would stretch if I pulled it and I believe yet it would. Well, I've spent one night in the dungeon and I'm not cut out to enjoy that mode of life. All I can think about is the Prisoner of Chillon and the Man in the Iron Mask and other distressing instances of the law's injustice. I feel as if I'd grown a gray beard in the last twelve hours. Do I look much older than when we met?"

The girl shook her head. "It's tremendously dramatic. Think what a story it will make when it's over and when you look back on it."

"Do you feel that way, too?" Pierce inquired, curiously. "As if everything is an adventure? I used to. I used to stand outside of myself and look on, but now--I'm on the inside, looking out. I suppose it's the effect of the gray beard. Experience comes fast in this country. To one thing I've made up my mind, however; when I get out of this sc.r.a.pe, if I ever do, I'm going away up into the hills where the wind can blow me clean, and stay there."

"It's a perfect shame!" the girl said, indignantly. "I shall tell father to fix it. He fixes everything I ask him to. He's wonderful, as you probably know."

"Inasmuch as I haven't the faintest idea who he is--"

"Why, he's Colonel Cavendish! I'm Josephine Cavendish. I thought everybody knew me."

Pierce could not restrain a start of surprise. Very humbly he inquired:

"Now that you understand who I am and what I'm charged with, do you want to--know me; be friends with me?"

"We ARE friends," Miss Cavendish warmly declared. "That's not something that may happen; it has happened. I'm peculiar about such matters; I have my own way of looking at them. And now that we're friends we're going to be friends throughout and I'm going to help you. Come along and meet mother."

"I--don't know how far my parole extends," Pierce ventured, doubtfully.

"Nonsense! There's only one authority around here. Father thinks he's it, but he isn't. I am. You're my prisoner now. Give me your word you won't try to escape--"

"Escape!" Pierce smiled broadly. "I don't much care if I never get out. Prisons aren't half as bad as they're pictured."

"Then come!"

CHAPTER XXV

"You really must do something for this boy Pierce Phillips." Mrs.

Cavendish spoke with decision.

The newspaper which the colonel was reading was barely six weeks old, therefore he was deeply engrossed in it, and he looked up somewhat absentmindedly.

"Yes, yes. Of course, my dear," he murmured. "What does he want now?"

"Why, he wants his liberty! He wants this absurd charge against him dismissed! It's a shame to hold a boy of his character, his breeding, on the mere word of a man like Count Courteau."

Colonel Cavendish smiled quizzically. "You, too, eh?" said he.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Why, you're the fourth woman who has appealed to me since his arrest. I dare say I'll hear from others. I never saw a fellow who had the female vote so solidly behind him. I'm beginning to regard him as a sort of domestic menace."

"You surely don't believe him guilty?"

When her husband refused to commit himself Mrs. Cavendish exclaimed, "Rubbish!"

"First Josephine came to me," the colonel observed. "She was deeply indignant and considerably disappointed in me as a man and a father when I refused to quash the entire proceedings and apologize, on behalf of the Dominion Government, for the injury to the lad's feelings. She was actually peeved. What ails her I don't know. Then the Countess Courteau dropped in, and so did that 'lady dealer' from the Rialto. Now you take up his defense." The speaker paused thoughtfully for an instant. "It's bad enough to have the fellow hanging around our quarters at all hours, but Josephine actually suggested that we have him DINE with us!"

"I know. She spoke of it to me. But he isn't 'hanging around at all hours.' Josephine is interested in his case, just as I am, because--"

"My dear! He's a weigher in a saloon, a gambling-house employee.

D'you think it wise to raise such a dust about him? I like the boy myself--can't help liking him--but you understand what he's been doing? He's been cutting up; going the pace. I never knew you to countenance a fellow--"

"I never saw a boy toward whom I felt so--motherly," Mrs.

Cavendish said, with some irrelevance. "I don't like wild young men any better than you do, but--he isn't a thief, of that I'm sure."

"Look here." Colonel Cavendish laid down his paper, and there was more gravity than usual in his tone. "I haven't told you everything, but it's evidently time I did. Phillips was mixed up with bad a.s.sociates, the very worst in town--"

"So he told me."

"He couldn't have told you what I'm about to. He had a most unfortunate affair with a dance-hall girl--one that reflects no credit upon him. He was on the straight path to ruin and going at a gallop, drinking, gambling--everything."

"All the more reason for trying to save him. Remember, you were pretty wild yourself."

"Wait! I don't say he's guilty of this charge; I want to believe him innocent--I'd like to help prove it. For that very reason it occurred to me that Laure--she's the dance-hall girl--might throw some light on the matter, so I put Rock to work on her. Well, his report wasn't pleasant. The girl talked, but what she said didn't help Phillips. She confessed that he'd been stealing right along and giving her the money."

Mrs. Cavendish was shocked, incredulous. After a moment, however, she shook her head positively and exclaimed, "I don't believe a word of it."

"She's going to swear to it."