Abruptly the man turned in his chair to summon a waiter, and exposed his profile. Kirkwood was in no wise amazed to recognize Calendar--a badly frightened Calendar now, however, and hardly to be identified with the sleek, glib fellow who had interviewed Kirkwood in the afternoon. His flabby cheeks were ashen and trembling, and upon the back of his chair the fat white fingers were drumming incessantly an inaudible tattoo of shattered nerves.
"Scared silly!" commented Kirkwood. "Why?" Having spoken to his waiter, Calendar for some seconds raked the room with quick glances, as if seeking an acquaintance. Presumably disappointed, he swung back to face the girl, bending forward to reach her ears with accents low-pitched and confidential. She, on her part, fell at once attentive, grave and responsive. Perhaps a dozen sentences pa.s.sed between them. At the outset her brows contracted and she shook her head in gentle dissent; whereupon Calendar"s manner became more imperative. Gradually, unwillingly, she seemed to yield consent. Once she caught her breath sharply, and, infected by her companion"s agitation, sat back, color fading again in the round young cheeks.
Kirkwood"s waiter put in an inopportune appearance with the bill. The young man paid it. When he looked up again Calendar had swung squarely about in his chair. His eye encountered Kirkwood"s. He nodded pleasantly.
Temporarily confused, Kirkwood returned the nod.
In a twinkling he had repented; Calendar had left his chair and was wending his way through the tables toward Kirkwood"s. Reaching it, he paused, offering the hand of genial fellowship. Kirkwood accepted it half-heartedly (what else was he to do?) remarking at the same time that Calendar had recovered much of his composure. There was now a normal coloring in the heavily jowled countenance, with less glint of fear in the quick, dark eyes; and Calendar"s hand, even if moist and cold, no longer trembled.
Furthermore it was immediately demonstrated that his impudence had not deserted him.
"Why, Kirkwood, my dear fellow!" he crowed--not so loudly as to attract attention, but in a tone a.s.sumed to divert suspicion, should he be overheard. "This is great luck, you know--to find you here."
"Is it?" returned Kirkwood coolly. He disengaged his fingers.
The pink plump face was contorted in a furtive grimace of deprecation.
Without waiting for permission Calendar dropped into the vacant chair.
"My dear sir," he proceeded, unabashed, "I throw myself upon your mercy."
"The devil you do!"
"I must. I"m in the deuce of a hole, and there"s no one I know here besides yourself. I--I--"
Kirkwood saw fit to lead him on; partly because, out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of the girl"s unconcealed suspense. "Go on, please, Mr.
Calendar. You throw yourself on a total stranger"s mercy because you"re in the deuce of a hole; and--?"
"It"s this way; I"m called away on urgent business imperative business.
I must go at once. My daughter is with me. My daughter! Think of my embarra.s.sment; I can not leave her here, alone, nor can I permit her to go home unprotected."
Calendar paused in anxiety.
"That"s easily remedied, then," suggested Kirkwood.
"How?"
"Put her in a cab at the door."
"I ... No. The devil! I couldn"t think of it. You won"t understand. I--"
"I do not understand,--" amended the younger man politely.
Calendar compressed his lips nervously. It was plain that the man was quivering with impatience and half-mad with excitement. He held quiet only long enough to regain his self-control and take counsel with his prudence.
"It is impossible, Mr. Kirkwood. I must ask you to be generous and believe me."
"Very well; for the sake of the argument, I do believe you, Mr. Calendar."
"h.e.l.l!" exploded the elder man in an undertone. Then swiftly, stammering in his haste: "I can"t let Dorothy accompany me to the door," he declared.
"She--I--I throw myself upon your mercy!"
"What--again?"
"The truth--the truth is, if you will have it, that I am in danger of arrest the moment I leave here. If my daughter is with me, she will have to endure the shame and humiliation--"
"Then why place her in such a position?" Kirkwood demanded sharply.
Calendar"s eyes burned, incandescent with resentment. Offended, he offered to rise and go, but changed his mind and sat tight in hope.
"I beg of you, sir--"
"One moment, Mr. Calendar."
Abruptly Kirkwood"s weatherc.o.c.k humor shifted--amus.e.m.e.nt yielding to intrigued interest. After all, why not oblige the fellow? What did anything matter, now? What harm could visit him if he yielded to this corpulent adventurer"s insistence? Both from experience and observation he knew this for a world plentifully peopled by soldiers of fortune, contrivers of snares and pitfalls for the feet of the unwary. On the other hand, it is axiomatic that a penniless man is perfectly safe anywhere. Besides, there was the girl to be considered.
Kirkwood considered her, forthwith. In the process thereof, his eyes sought her, perturbed. Their glances clashed. She looked away hastily, crimson to her temples.
Instantly the conflict between curiosity and caution, inclination and distrust, was at an end. With sudden compliance, the young man rose.
"I shall be most happy to be of service to your daughter, Mr. Calendar,"
he said, placing the emphasis with becoming gravity. And then, the fat adventurer leading the way, Kirkwood strode across the room--wondering somewhat at himself, if the whole truth is to be disclosed.
III
CALENDAR"S DAUGHTER
All but purring with satisfaction and relief, Calendar halted.
"Dorothy, my dear, permit me to introduce an old friend--Mr. Kirkwood.
Kirkwood, this is my daughter."
"Miss Calendar," acknowledged Kirkwood.
The girl bowed, her eyes steady upon his own. "Mr. Kirkwood is very kind,"
she said gravely.
"That"s right!" Calendar exclaimed blandly. "He"s promised to see you home.
Now both of you will pardon my running away, I know."
"Yes," a.s.sented Kirkwood agreeably.
The elder man turned and hurried toward the main entrance.
Kirkwood took the chair he had vacated. To his disgust he found himself temporarily dumb. No flicker of thought illuminated the darkness of his confusion. How was he to open a diverting conversation with a young woman whom he had met under auspices so extraordinary? Any attempt to gloze the situation, he felt, would be futile. And, somehow, he did not care to render himself ridiculous in her eyes, little as he knew her.
Inanely dumb, he sat watching her, smiling fatuously until it was borne in on him that he was staring like a boor and grinning like an idiot.