"I could see that he was stirred up, and I guessed that he was thinking big thoughts."
"But did he say anything?"
"Not a word. Except that it was interesting."
"Ah!" It was an exclamation of disappointment. Then she instantly added: "But of course he could not say anything until after he had talked it over with Mr. Blake. He"ll do that this morning--if he did not do it last night. You may be approached by them to-day."
She stood up excitedly, and her brown eyes glowed. "After all, something may come of the plan!"
"It"s at least an opening," said Manning.
"Yes. And let"s use it for all it"s worth. Don"t you think it would be best for you to go right back to your hotel, and keep yourself in sight, so Mr. Peck won"t have to lose a second in case he wants to talk to you again?"
"That"s what I had in mind."
"And all day I"ll be either in my office, or at home, or at Mrs.
Sherman"s. And the minute anything develops, send word to Mr.
Hollingsworth and he"ll send word to me."
"I"ll not waste a minute," he a.s.sured her.
All day she waited with suppressed excitement for good news from Manning. But the only news was that there was no news. And so on the second day. And so on the third. Her hopes, that had flared so high, sunk by slow degrees to mere embers among the ashes. It appeared that the nibble, which had seemed but the preliminary to swallowing the bait, was after all no more than a nibble; that the fish had merely nosed the worm and swum away. In the meantime, while eaten up by the suspense of this inaction, she was witness to activity of the most strenuous variety. Never had she seen a man spring up into favour as did Harrison Blake. His campaign meetings were resumed the very night of Bruce"s conviction; the city crowded to them; the Blake Marching Club tramped the streets till midnight, with flaming torches, rousing the enthusiasm of the people with their shouts and campaign songs; and wherever Blake appeared upon the platform he was greeted by an uproar, and even when he appeared by daylight, when men"s spirits are more sedate, his progress through the streets was a series of miniature ovations.
As for Bruce, Katherine saw his power and position crumble so swiftly that she could hardly see them disappear. The structure of a tremendous future had stood one moment imposingly before her eyes.
Presto, and it was no more! The sentiment he had roused in favour of public ownership, and against the regime of Blake, was as a thing that had never been. With him in jail, his candidacy was but the ashes that are left by a conflagration--though, to be sure, since the ballots were already printed, it was too late to remove his name. He was a thing to be cursed at, jeered at. He had suddenly become a little lower than n.o.body, a little less than nothing.
And as for his paper, when Katherine looked at it it made her sick at heart. Within a day it lost a third in size. Advertisers no longer dared, perhaps no longer cared, to give it patronage. Its news and editorial character collapsed. This last she could hardly understand, for Billy Harper was in charge, and Bruce had often praised him to her as a marvel of a newspaper man. But one evening, when she was coming home late from Elsie Sherman"s and hurrying through the crowd of Main Street, Billy Harper lurched against her. The next day, with a little adroit inquiry, she learned that Harper, freed from Bruce"s restraining influence, and depressed by the general situation, was drinking constantly. It required no prophetic vision for Katherine to see that, if things continued as they now were going, on the day Bruce came out of jail he would find the _Express_, which he had lifted to power and a promise of prosperity, had sunk into a disrepute and a decay from which even so great an energy as his could not restore it.
Since there was so little she could do elsewhere, Katherine was at the Shermans" several times a day, trying in un.o.btrusive ways to aid the nurse and Doctor Sherman"s sister. Miss Sherman was a spare, silent woman of close upon forty, with rather sharp, determined features.
Despite her unloveliness, Katherine respected her deeply, for in other days Elsie had told her sister-in-law"s story. Miss Sherman and her brother were orphans. To her had been given certain plain virtues, to him all the graces of mind and body. She was a country school-teacher, and it had been her hard work, her determination, her penny-counting economy, that had saved her talented brother from her early hardships and sent him through college. She had made him what he was; and beneath her stern exterior she loved him with that intense devotion a lonely, ingrowing woman feels for the object on which she has spent her life"s thought and effort.
Whenever Katherine entered the sick chamber--they had moved Elsie"s bed into the sitting-room because of its greater convenience and better air--her heart would stand still as she saw how white and wasted was her friend. At such a time she would recall with a choking keenness all of Elsie"s virtues, each virtue increased and purified--her simplicity, her purity, her loyalty.
Several times Elsie came back from the brink of the Great Abyss, over which she so faintly hovered, and smiled at Katherine and spoke a few words--but only a few, for Doctor West allowed no more. Each time she asked, with fluttering trepidation, if any word had come from her husband; and each time at Katherine"s choking negative she would try to smile bravely and hide her disappointment.
On one of the last days of this period--it was the Sunday before election--Doctor West had said that either the end or a turn for the better must be close at hand. Katherine had been sitting long watching Elsie"s pale face and faintly rising bosom, when Elsie slowly opened her eyes. Elsie pressed her friend"s hand with a barely perceptible pressure and smiled with the faintest shadow of a smile.
"You here again, Katherine?" she breathed.
"Yes, dear."
"Just the same dear Katherine!"
"Don"t speak, Elsie."
She was silent a s.p.a.ce. Then the wistful look Katherine had seen so often came into the patient"s soft gray eyes, and she knew what Elsie"s words were going to be before they pa.s.sed her lips.
"Have you heard anything--from him?"
Katherine slowly shook her head.
Elsie turned her face away for a moment. A sigh fluttered out. Then she looked back.
"But you are still trying to find him?"
"We have done, and are doing, everything, dear."
"I"m sure," sighed Elsie, "that he would come if he only knew."
"Yes--if he only knew."
"And you will keep on--trying--to get him word?"
"Yes, dear."
"Then perhaps--he may come yet."
"Perhaps," said Katherine, with hopeful lips. But in her heart there was no hope.
Elsie closed her eyes, and did not speak again. Presently Katherine went out into the level, red-gold sunlight of the waning November afternoon. The church bells, resting between their morning duty and that of the night, all were silent; over the city there lay a hush--it was as if the town were gathering strength for its final spasm of campaign activity on the morrow. There was nothing in that Sabbath calm to disturb the emotion of Elsie"s bedside, and Katherine walked slowly homeward beneath the barren maples, in that fearful, tremulous, yearning mood in which she had left the bedside of her friend.
In this same mood she reached home and entered the empty sitting-room.
She was slowly drawing off her gloves when she perceived, upon the centre-table, a special delivery letter addressed to herself. She picked it up in moderate curiosity. The envelope was plain, the address was typewritten, there was nothing to suggest the ident.i.ty of the sender. In the same moderate curiosity she unfolded the inclosure.
Then her curiosity became excitement, for the letter bore the signature of Mr. Seymour.
"I have to-day received a letter from Mr. Harrison Blake of Westville," Mr. Seymour wrote her, "of which the following is the text: "We have just learned that there is in our city a Mr. Hartsell who represents himself to be an agent of yours instructed to purchase the water-works of Westville. Before entering into any negotiations with him the city naturally desires to be a.s.sured by you that he is a representative of your firm. As haste is necessary in this matter, we request you to reply at once and by special delivery."
"Ah, I understand the delay now!" Katherine exclaimed. "Before making a deal with Mr. Manning, Mr. Blake and Mr. Peck wanted to be sure their man was what he said he was!"
"And now, Miss West," Mr. Seymour wrote on, "since you have kept me in the dark as to the details of your plan, and as I have never heard of said Hartsell, I have not known just how to reply to your Mr. Blake.
So I have had recourse to the vague brevity of a busy man, and have sent the following by the same mail that brings this to you: "Replying to your inquiry of the 3rd inst. I beg to inform you that I have a representative in Westville fully authorized to act for me in the matter of the water-works." I hope this reply is all right. Also there is a second hope, which is strong even if I try to keep it subdued; and that is that you will have to buy the water-works in for me."
From that instant Katherine"s mind was all upon her scheme. She was certain that Mr. Seymour"s reply was already in the hands of Blake and Peck, and that they were even then planning, or perhaps had already planned, what action they should take. At once she called Old Hosie up by telephone.
"I think it looks as though the "nibble" were going to develop into a bite, and quick," she said rapidly. "Get into communication with Mr.
Manning and tell him to make no final arrangement with those parties till he sees me. I want to know what they offer."
It was an hour later, and the early night had already fallen, when there was a ring at the West door, and Old Hosie entered, alone.
Katharine quickly led the old lawyer into the parlour.
"Well?" she whispered.
"Manning has just accepted an invitation for an automobile ride this evening from Charlie Peck."
Katherine suddenly gripped his hand.
"That may be a bite!"