We Ten Part 23

XIX.

HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER.

TOLD BY JACK.

Nora was playing a sweet, wild Hungarian melody on the piano, the boys were on the stoop talking to Chad,--every now and then the sound of their voices came in through the open windows,--and I sat under the drawing-room chandelier reading. Presently Chad came in, and, leaning on the piano, began talking to Nora in a low tone; and without stopping her music, she talked back, in the same tone of voice.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WITHOUT STOPPING HER MUSIC, SHE TALKED BACK, IN THE SAME TONE OF VOICE."]

The story I was reading was A 1, and I'd got to a _very_ thrilling place, where the boy comes face to face with an infuriated tiger, when I heard something said outside that just took all the interest out of my book. Phil was speaking sharply,--I wondered Nora and Chad didn't hear him. "What's the _matter_ with you?" he flared out. "I declare, you're getting as fussy as an old cat! I won't stand the way you're watching me, and you've just got to drop it. I'm not a _baby_, to be tied to anybody's ap.r.o.n-strings! I'll go and come as I please."

I didn't hear what Fee said to this, but Phil's answer to it was quite loud: "Yes, I _am_ going,--to-night, and to-morrow night, and any other night I please. The _idea_ of a fellow of my age not being able to go out for a walk without asking your permission!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE STORY I WAS READING WAS A 1."]

"When you talk like that you are downright silly!" broke in Felix. I could tell by his voice he was trying hard to control his temper.

"'Tisn't the going out that anybody objects to; it's the person you're going with. You know very well, Phil, that he isn't the sort of fellow to do you any good. I sized him up the very first time we saw him, and I still hold to my opinion,--he's a _b-a-d_ lot."

"_A-c-h!_ you make me tired!" exclaimed Phil,--that's a favourite expression of his when he's cornered,--and leaning in through the window, he called, "See here, Chad; any time to-night!"

"Yes, A'm coming," Chad called back, and bidding Nora good-night, he went out; a minute after I heard their steps as Phil and he ran down the stoop and pa.s.sed by the drawing-room windows.

Laying my book down quietly and very quickly, I ran out on the stoop.

Fee sat there with his elbows on his knees, and his chin resting on his clasped hands, staring at nothing. Dropping down beside him, I slipped my hand in his arm and squeezed it to me. "I heard Phil," I said. "I'm awfully sorry he _would_ go."

"Yes," Fee answered, but in a way that I knew he wasn't thinking of what he was saying.

We sat quiet for a little while, then Felix turned suddenly and laid his hand on my knee. "Jack," he said earnestly, "I've made up my mind about something that's been bothering me since last night. What I'm going to do may turn out right, it may turn out wrong,--G.o.d only knows; but it seems right to me, and I'm going to try it. I dread it, though,--just _dread_ it. If I hadn't promised--" He broke off abruptly, and turned his head away. I wanted to say something to him, but I couldn't think of a _thing_.

In a minute Felix began again. "Tell me honestly, Jack," he said, "do you think that Phil cares as much for me as he used to,--I mean before that fellow Chad came?"

"Why, Fee!" I exclaimed, "_of course_ he loves you just as well; I _know_ he does,--we all love you _dearly_!" Do you know, it just hurt me to have him think Phil could let a person like Chad come between them. Of course, as nurse says, we have our ups and downs; we get mad with one another sometimes, and all that, you know; but still we do love one another dearly, and we'd stand up for the different ones like everything, if need be. We've always been very proud of Fee,--he's so clever, you see; but since that night that I'm going to tell you about, I just think my brother Felix is the n.o.blest, bravest, truest boy in the world! I've always loved Fee very dearly; but now,--well, now I have a feeling that I would be willing to give my life for him. Poor old Fee!

When I said that so positively about Phil's caring, I could see Fee was pleased; his face brightened up. "Well, perhaps he does," he said. "He's been very cranky lately, and sharp to me,--in fact to everybody; but I have a feeling that that's because he isn't really satisfied with the way he's acting. I tell you, Jack, Phil's a good fellow,"--Fee pounded his hand down on his knee as he spoke; "it isn't easy for him to do wrong. And he isn't up to Chad's tricks, or the set he's got him into.

They've flattered Phil first, and that has turned his head; and then they've laughed at him for not doing the things they do, and that's nettled him,--until they've got him all their way. I know what they are,--I can see through their cunning; but Phil isn't so sharp. There are people in this world, Jack, so contemptible and wicked that they hate to have anybody better than they are themselves, and Chad and his crowd belong to that cla.s.s. If I'd been able to go about with Phil as I used to, they'd _never_ have had the chance to get hold of him. And as it is, now that I've found out their game, I'm going to stop the whole business, and bring Phil to his senses. He's too fine a fellow for those rascals to spoil. I'll stop it--I'll stop it, no matter _what_ it costs me!"

Oh, how often I've thought of those words since that dreadful night! And yet, I have a feeling that even if he had known, he would have gone--I tell you, there isn't another boy in all the world like our Felix!

Fee's voice was shaking, and he got on his feet as if he were going to start that very minute; but before I could say anything he began again: "I've got a plan,--not a very good one, I must confess, but it's the best I can think of, and it may work; that is, if Phil has as much of the old feeling for me as you think, Jack: I'm building a good deal on that,--I hope I won't get left. He may turn obstinate,--you know he _can_ be a very donkey sometimes; and I suppose he'll get furiously mad.

Well, I'll have to stand that,--if only he doesn't blaze out at me before those cads; _that_ would cut me _awfully_. But that I'll have to risk; he's worth it. Now, Jack, I want you to help me,--to go somewhere with me, I mean. I'm sorry to have to ask this, for it's no place for a youngster like you; but I think you're one of the kind that won't be hurt by such things, Rosebud,"--putting his hand on my arm,--"and I'm so unsteady on my feet that I am afraid I really couldn't get along alone.

Get your hat--and my cane."

In a minute I had both, and we went down the stoop together. At the foot of the steps Fee stopped, and taking off his hat, began pushing his hair back off his forehead. I could see he was nervous. "Suppose this _shouldn't_ be the right thing that I'm going to do; suppose it should make matters worse," he said undecidedly, almost irritably. "Now, if Nannie were here--I haven't a creature to advise me!"

"_I_ think you're doing right, Fee," I began. I didn't remember until afterward that I really didn't know what his plan was; but I don't think he heard what I said, for he went on in a low tone, as if he were talking to himself: "Suppose he gets furiously angry, and pitches into me before those low fellows,--you never know what Phil's going to say when he gets mad,--and _will not_ come home with me, what'll I do _then_? It's a risk. And if this plan fails, I don't know what else to do. Had I better just let things drift along as they are until we get in the country, and then speak to him? I _dread_ a row before that crowd; they'd just set him up against me. And yet--a week more of nights to come home as he did last night, and the night before that--_ought_ I to let that go on? What would _she_ say to do?"

He stood with his head bent, thinking,--his hat and cane in one hand, and holding on to the stone newel-post with the other. And as we waited the gay strains of Nora's waltz came to us through the windows; since that night I just hate to hear her play that piece.

Presently Felix looked up at me with the faintest little smile. "I came pretty near asking you to write me down a coward, Jack," he said; "but I'm all right again. Now for your part of this affair: If Phil will come back with me, as I hope, you'll have to make your way home alone, without letting him know of your being there. Try and manage it. If he gets ugly, and will _not_ leave that crowd, why, then we--you and I--'ll have to travel back as we went. You must judge for yourself, Rosebud, whether to go, or to stay for me; I'll have enough to do, you know, to manage Phil. Apart from that, have as little to do in the matter as possible; ask no questions, speak to no one, and see and hear no more than you can help. All right?"

"Yes," I answered quickly, "and I only wish I could do more for you, Fee."

Felix put his hand on my shoulder for a rest, as he usually did when we walked together. "You've been a real comfort to me, Jack, since Nannie went away," he said. I tell you that meant _lots_ from him, and I knew it; I just put up my hand and squeezed Fee's fingers as they rested on my coat; then we started off.

On Fee's account we walked very slowly; but after a while we came to a house with a very low stoop,--just a step or two from the ground. There were handsome gla.s.s doors to the vestibule, and the rather small hall was brilliantly lighted up. I fancied that the man who opened the door looked at me as if he thought I had no business there; but Felix marched right by him and stepped into the elevator, and of course I followed.

"Mr. Whitcombe," said Fee; and then I knew that we were in the apartment house where Chad has his "bachelor quarters."

"Turn to your left," said the elevator man, as he let us out. We did so, and just as we got opposite the door with the big silver k.n.o.b and old bronze knocker that Chad had told us he brought from Europe, it opened, and some one came out. Well, truly, he didn't look any older than fifteen,--two years older than I am, mind you,--but if he didn't have on a long-tailed evening coat, an awfully high stand-up collar, and a tall silk hat! You can't think what a queer figure he was,--like a caricature.

Before he could shut the door, Felix lifted his hat, and then put out his hand quickly. "Allow me," he said politely; and the next moment we were in Chad's hall, with his front door closed behind us.

At the other end of this hall was a room very brightly lighted; the portiere was pushed almost entirely aside, and we could see some young fellows seated round a table. Nearly all had cigars or cigarettes in their mouths,--Phil, too; the room was just thick with smoke, and they were playing cards.

"Sit where they can't see you," Fee whispered to me; "and if you find Phil will go home with me, just slide out without letting him know of your being here. Oh, Jack, if I can _only_ succeed!" He gave my hand a little squeeze--though it was a warm evening, his fingers were cold--and then walked up the hall and stood in the doorway of Chad's room.

"Hullo! _you!_ Oh--aw--come in--aw--glad to see you! Take a chair," Chad said, in a tone of voice that told he was taken all aback; while Phil was so startled that he dropped his cigarette and called out roughly, "What the mischief are _you_ doing here?"

Of course they all looked at Felix; but he answered carelessly, "Oh, I thought I'd accept a long-standing invitation,"--with a little bow toward Chad,--"and drop in for a while."

"Oh, certainly, certainly--aw--glad to see you!" exclaimed Chad.

"Who's with you?" demanded Phil; but Fee didn't answer him: he just went forward and took the place that one of the fellows made between himself and Phil. And then Chad began introducing Felix to the others.

From where I sat on the hat-rack settle,--it was the most shielded place in the hall, and near the door,--I had a full view of the people sitting on one side of the table, and particularly of Felix and Phil, who were almost directly under the glare of the light. Fee's face was as white as marble, except a red spot on each cheek, and there was a delicate look about his eyes and temples, and round his mouth, that I hadn't noticed before. Somehow his fine, regular features and splendid, broad white forehead made me think of the head of the Young Augustus that the Unsworths have.

But Phil certainly didn't look like any marble statue; his face was very red and cross, and he was scowling until his eyebrows made a thick black line above his eyes. He was disagreeable, too,--rough and quarrelsome, something like that night when he came home so late, and hurt my feelings. When, in reply to an invitation from Chad, Felix said he would join the game, Phil sung out in a kind of ordering tone, "What's the sense of spoiling the fun for everybody? You know nothing about cards; why don't you look on?"

"Because I prefer playing," answered Fee, smiling; "it's the quickest and surest way of learning, I believe,"--with a glance round the company. "What are the stakes?"

He drew a handful of money from his pocket, and laid it before him on the table.

"Don't make an a.s.s of yourself, Felix!" Phil exclaimed angrily, laying a hand right over the little pile of silver. "We're not fooling here; we're playing in dead earnest, and you will lose every cent of your money."

Some of the fellows snickered, and one called out sharply, "Look out what you're saying, Rose."

I saw the red spots on Fee's cheeks grow brighter. "I _am going_ to play," he said quietly, but looking Phil steadily in the eyes; "so please don't interfere."

"Evidently you've never learned that 'consistency is a jewel'!" Phil retorted with a sneer. I suppose he was thinking of what Fee had said that evening on the stoop.

But Felix only answered good-naturedly, "Oh, yes, I have; that used to be one of our copy-book axioms," and then they all began to play.

Well, Phil's face was a study,--it grew blacker and blacker as the game went on, and Fee kept losing; and he got very disagreeable,--trying to chaff Felix, almost as if he wanted to make him mad. But Fee just turned it off as pleasantly as he could. Those fellows made it ever so much harder, though; they got off the _silliest_ speeches, and then roared with laughter over them, as if they were jokes. And, in a sly kind of way, they egged Phil on to quarrel with Fee,--laughing at all his speeches, and pretending that they thought Phil was afraid of Felix. And Chad joined in, I could hear his affected laugh and drawl above all the others; I felt how that must cut Fee!

There were some decanters and gla.s.ses on a side table, and every now and then Chad urged his friends to drink, and he would get up and wait on them. Felix refused every time, and Phil did too at first, until those common fellows began to twit him about it,--as much as saying that he was afraid to take anything 'cause Fee would "go home and tell on him."

What did Phil do then--the silly fellow! 'twas just what they wanted--but s.n.a.t.c.h up a gla.s.s and swallow down a lot of that vile stuff!