Part 42

“I never knew Symonds Dodd to do anything toward squaring a wrong he had committed except when he gave Kate Kilgour a fine position in his office. And there are those who say that he was only showing more of his selfishness when he hired her; he wanted the prettiest girl in the city to match his office furnishings.”

“I have seen her,” said Farr, trying to be matter-of-fact. “I--I sort of wondered!”

“Her father was a friend of mine. He was a good man. And the Consolidated money couldn't buy him. His people were Kilgowers in Scotland and he was a man not given to much talk, but he was willing to let me run on, nodding his head now and then while he smoked. He was an honest man and the best engineer in the state, and he kept his own counsel in all things. And he showed me the Kilgower coat of arms--and he didn't show that to many. He was no boaster. He was proud of his people, but he used to say that it made but little difference who the ancestors were unless the descendants copied the virtues and tried to improve over the faults. There was a Kilgower who went down across the border and gave himself as a hostage so that the clan might gain time--and he knew that he would be hung--and he was. But he saved his people. And I wish you would remember that, Mr. Farr, for it explains a bit the state of mind of Andrew Kilgour.

“He wouldn't sell himself for the gang's dirty work--he made honest reports. So they did for him, Mr. Farr. And he couldn't afford to have them do for him, because his wife was vain and a spendthrift and he let her waste and spend because he was a good and simple man when it came to the matter of a woman's domination over him. That's the curse on strong men--they are tender when it comes to a woman. She wasn't worthy of him, his wife. It's the daughter who has his honesty. I think if she knew who had done for her father she would not stay in Symonds Dodd's office. But the gang does for a man most often without leaving the trail open when they run away and hide.

“He would come here and sit with me and smoke and was very silent. I knew there were debts and I knew well enough that the woman wanted him to sell himself.

“He raked and scraped money--he sold everything of his own, his instruments and all. He took out every cent of insurance that money would buy. Then he put prussic acid in a capsule--a shell of salol, I believe they said it was--so that the work of the poison would be delayed, and he swallowed the capsule on the street and went into an office and sat and chatted with friends and joked and laughed much more than was his habit till at last his eyes closed and his face grew white and he fell out of his chair upon the floor stone-dead, and never uttered a groan.

“It was brave work. They called it heart disease, but it's not easy to fool insurance people. They took him out of his grave and proved suicide--and they did not pay a dollar of insurance to his family. They were not obliged to. The policies were new and the suicide clause let the companies out. So he left only debts instead of twenty-five thousand dollars. However, I say it was brave work.”

“It would have been braver to stay and face it,” blurted Farr.

“But Andrew Kilgour had a code of his own--a state of mind some of us could not understand--the example of an ancestor. We are not all alike. Many cannot stay and face trouble. You might be able to do it--you seem to have a level head!”

Farr grew pale, his hands trembled on the arms of his chair, and then he got up and marched across the little shop to the window, turning his back on Citizen Drew.

“You told them in City Hall that you would stay here and fight,” pursued Citizen Drew. “That is brave work.”

“I'll be much obliged to you, Citizen Drew, if you'll leave me out of your catalogue of heroes. And I take back what I said about his facing it. I hadn't any right to make any such comment.”

“So the girl went to work in Symonds Dodd's office and his nephew is courting her. I hope he doesn't get Andrew Kilgour's daughter. He never went after any other girl honestly. I have looked into this case because I was Andrew's friend. Young Dodd wants to marry her and the mother is helping him. But I know that rapscallion, Mr. Farr. I can't believe that Kate Kilgour will be caught by him.”

“He has a fine position, they tell me,” said Farr, still gazing out of the window.

“The Machine made old Peleg Johnstone state treasurer, and he doesn't know bonds from biscuit. Colonel Dodd put in his nephew as chief clerk, and old Peleg is a figure-head, smoking his pipe in the back office and resting his wool-tipped boots on his desk. Oh, I know the bunch of 'em, sir. I can tell you the inside of things. Young Dodd takes orders from his uncle and runs the treasury. All the state's money is in the Dodd banks on the checking-account basis--and the gang is letting it out at six percent. Tidy little profit! And nobody to say a word, even to ask how Richard Dodd finds so much money to spend. But that's the principal wonder in the world, Mr. Farr--how your neighbor gets his money to blow. Jones, Smith, Brown, and Robinson--they stand and look at one another and ask the same question. And folks in the Eleventh Ward are even asking me how you get your living,” added Citizen Drew, smoothing his curiosity with a bit of jocoseness.

“I have been working in this city--doing good, hard work,” stated Farr, moving toward the door.

“Yes, but you have been discharged.”

“I understand how it is you know so much stuff to tell me,” returned the young man, smiling. “Well, Citizen Drew, I'm going to take the first job that offers itself. Tell 'em that!”

“I'm glad of it,” said Citizen Drew, with blunt heartiness. “If you have set out to do anything among the plain folks you've got to be at work in the open, earning honest wages, or they'll suspect you. They have been fooled too often by fakes and loafers. But since you advertised yourself in City Hall you may find jobs a little hard to land. It's pretty much of an air-tight proposition, Consolidated influence.”

“I have somebody looking after my interests in that line, Citizen Drew. I'm not worrying.” He opened the door. “In fact, there are two mighty helpful chaps whom I'm going to associate with more or less from now on.”

“Bring 'em with you and let me know 'em. Can't have too many in a good cause.”

“I'll bring them--but they are pretty hard to understand--rather slow getting acquainted--lots of folks have no use for them,” said Farr, starting down-stairs.

“What are their names?” asked the inquisitive citizen, eager for more additions to his general stock of information.

“I'll tell you later.”

But Farr named them to himself when he was on the street.

“Chance and Humility--I hope you are going to stick by me from now on,” he muttered. “Chance, you have led me into a queer position and into a strange state of mind. Humility, you are helping me to understand. Now, Chance, what have you to say to me?”

It was more of the fantastic whimsy with which Walker Farr played.

His eyes, searching the street after this challenge to Chance, beheld an ice-wagon rumbling past. It was a neat-looking cart, painted white, and bore the advertisement, “Crystal Pure Independent Ice Company.”