Mr. Stuffer, who was supposed to be on duty at the annunciator, in his dual capacity of hall boy and host, heard not its alarm, for he was well under way with a yarn.

He continued:

"She got so she didn't care for Hoboken, Mary didn't. The beaus then took her to every theatre in New York. And they were a fine lot of chaps--Stevens students, bachelor professors, leading merchants'

sons--all the best people in town. Before that Stevens student started up the necessary machinery to repair this case, she had no beaus at all; but he fixed things so's she had a regular monopoly because she controlled the raw material. They teach just enough of political economy on the side up there at the inst.i.tute to bring that in; that you can't have a monopoly unless you control the raw material; so he figured to have her control it. But when she lost it the thing was off."

"What became of it?" asked Mr. Tescheron, who, I am informed, was fearful that the narrator might be interrupted by the ringing of the bell.

"She ate it up. You see, Brown, that smart Stevens man, who laid out this job, went around to where Mary kept her little lamb and sheared it every once so often. He gave the wool to our swellest tailor and had him make it up into an extra fancy line of trousering. The best people bought those trousers, and of course everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go. You can see why she had so much good company. The fellows simply couldn't stop going to Mary's till they shed 'em. It took a mechanical engineer to do it. But when the lamb got old her pa, who had not been told about this thing, thought he'd have to eat the pet to save its mutton."

"But she got married, of course, didn't she?" asked a stranger, who was en route to Europe on his wedding tour and was full of romance.

"Why, no. You see, she was having such fun fishing, she never stopped till they stopped biting--that is, the snappy ba.s.s that she liked to ketch. She landed a lot, but just kept throwing back, probably waiting for some whale in the shape of a Duke to land on one of the steamers, but those Dukes that pa.s.s through Hoboken are terribly long on trousers, and generally bring 'em over by the trunk-load. They all pa.s.sed right through, at any rate. Instead of a whale coming along, the next to bite were a lot of old skates--a regular lot of tramps. They had come into the trousers second hand, usually got for the asking, when preparing to start into New York for the slumming season; but, of course, they had to make for Mary's house just as soon as they put 'em on and the charm got to working. So she has been spending the balance of her life shooing away tramps. The chances are the pet lamb will never quite wear out--excuse me, gentlemen, I think I hear the bell ringing."

CHAPTER XIII

Gabrielle did not find it necessary to confide immediately in Hygeia, who cared for us both, but as Jim progressed more favorably than I, and was able to sit up in bed propped with pillows, he became talkative and inclined to drop remarks that might create suspicion in the mind of the nurse. Unless Hygeia became her confidante, Gabrielle feared Jim's ident.i.ty might become known and his whereabouts learned by the officers of the law, who were now apparently searching for him on misleading clues.

"You will be my good friend, will you not?" asked Gabrielle, as she drew Hygeia closely to her one morning about a week after our entrance to the hospital. "I want you to help me, and I know you now so well that I feel I may safely ask you to. May I?"

"My dear Miss Marshall, there is nothing I will not do for you, believe me. I rejoice that your brother is showing such rapid improvement. How much more fortunate he is than the poor fellow in the next room--his friend, I believe you said?"

"Yes, Mr. Hopkins is his friend. But Mr. Marshall is not my brother, and--"

"Tut, tut! Didn't I know it, my dear! Have I not watched you both? I am already keeping your secret, never fear. Tell me only what you please, but you need not tell me to have your good-will, for my heart is with you, my dear."

"Oh, you are such a kind, good friend!" exclaimed Gabrielle. "It is your sympathy and care that will save the lives of these men. Let me tell you why I so promptly had him" (pointing to Jim, who was beyond hearing), "registered as George Marshall, my brother. My father accuses him of many things--many foolish things--but you know how it is with an impetuous father; these things have been enlarged in his eyes by wicked men, who are conspiring for gain. Detectives, they call themselves, and so long as my father hesitates to publicly expose his family, these men feed upon his fears. I have good reason to believe that Mr. Hopkins, so long friendly to him--whose real name is James Hosley--is now his bitter enemy, for he has given information concerning him to the authorities.

And my real name is Gabrielle Tescheron, so you see--"

"Gracious! But this is a conspiracy," exclaimed Hygeia, deeply interested and ready to declare her loyalty to the lovers. "How can you account for the base treachery of that man?" (pointing toward my room, the quarters of the despicable villain in the case.) "What a miserable wretch he must be!"

"But, my dear," said Gabrielle, who now felt that she was established on a firm footing of intimacy with the nurse, "I am not positive as to that, although I have good reason to believe he has deserted his old chum; still I am not sure, for I have only heard so through my father, who is, of course, strongly prejudiced. There are many things I do not understand. I do know that a subpoena has been issued for my father on the complaint of Mr. Hopkins, and so, of course, he must have informed the officials concerning Mr. Hosley, probably accusing him directly as alleged by the detectives and outlined to me hastily by my father. Had Mr. Hopkins not done this we would not have been hurried out of the State to escape the unpleasant publicity of which my father has a horror. Oh, father is such a hot-head!"

"Your love is all you base your loyalty on," smiled Hygeia, and embracing Gabrielle, she kissed her desperately. "Indeed, no harm shall visit either of you," Hygeia tenderly a.s.sured Gabrielle.

"But to me this situation is very silly," added Gabrielle. "And were it not for my hasty father and this fire intervening, I know full well that Mr. Hopkins would have made an explanation which would have exonerated Jim. I feel so, but I shall take no risks--no risks whatever, mind you.

While I do feel that perfidy in Mr. Hopkins is beyond belief, I shall be cautious, and with your help shall keep him in ignorance of Mr. Hosley's whereabouts. If he did tell a lie to my father about notifying the officials, then let him come forward with the denial. But we must not be too hard on the poor fellow; think how much more he has suffered than Jim. Let us divide the beautiful flowers. Half the time let poor Benny Hopkins gaze on these roses and orchids I send to Jim, and tell him, too, my dear, that they come from me. Let us hear what he says. Perhaps some day all will be clear to us again. Jim and Ben will again be friends, and you will be our new-found friend, whom we shall all rejoice in finding in our hour of need. How beautiful it will be then, and these days of sorrow will be turned into pleasant memories! Poor Mr. Hopkins, he does seem so low at times! Do you think he will get well?"

"I think he will," a.s.sured Hygeia. "Each day he rests a little better, but his head is not clear. He wanders a good deal. But Dr. Hanley says that condition will improve--in fact, it shows signs of improvement as his temperature becomes more even."

"I do pray he will recover," said Gabrielle, sadly, shaking her head.

"Jim has such faith in him--laughs at my fears and bids me let him be wheeled into Ben's room as soon as the doctors will allow us to go in there, for he knows he can cheer him. Jim says Ben is so given to sarcasm and joking that people who do not know him well misunderstand him. I shall not allow it, however, as there is too much at risk. Jim does not know all. If I am wrong in this, Ben Hopkins is responsible, for he deceived my father and drove us all over there to Hoboken. What a place for an exile! Jim laughs every time I tell him about it. Oh, such a state of affairs, just as we had planned to be married!"

"Isn't it too bad!" exclaimed Hygeia. "Never mind; we shall all laugh over it at the wedding, if I may be there."

"When everything comes out all right in our affairs, indeed you shall be there. You shall be my bridesmaid; Nellie Gibson is to be my maid of honor, and Benny Hopkins, Jim's best man. Won't it be grand! Let me tell you about my gowns. I have nearly all of them ready. First there is the--"

Here I shall leave them to talk of the trousseau. My notes on this branch of the subject were gathered from Hygeia and are full enough to give an adequate description. This I would do, but I am afraid I would get tangled in the trail, scalp the bride by tearing off her veil with a flying heel, and fall down on some of the fine lace flouncing around the box pleats hiding the chiffon and the crepe de chine. Hygeia told me the style of the wedding gown was Princess, but there was a reception gown--I was told, but I forget now how many yards it contained; if the 8,643 tucks were taken out and the goods stretched, I understood there was enough to show that a silk mill and lace factory had been busy several days. As for the silkworms, I suppose they were all summer chewing up a row of mulberry bushes on this job. Weddings make a lot of work for everybody.

Hygeia did everything possible to make it pleasant for Gabrielle at the hospital. She tactfully left the sick man alone with his "sister" the greater part of every afternoon. With sorrow to knit more firmly the bonds of love, it would appear that no disturbing influence could enter there. They chatted quietly and laughed merrily, and when they were not doing either they were silently telling each other of their happiness by those glances that had partially betrayed their secret to Hygeia before she learned it from Gabrielle's lips.

Gabrielle became such a motherly person at the hospital! With a dainty white dotted Swiss ap.r.o.n tied in sprightly bows about her waist, "in sweet perfection cast," she sat near the window sewing or embroidering some bit of finery that must be finished for the wedding, and by her hands alone. Jim was so full of joy he didn't care how long it took his broken leg to mend. The aches and twinges from that quarter were hardly felt by him after the first day of his confinement; his head was right, and he was eager for the daily coming of Gabrielle.

Well do I comprehend how Jim felt. He did not yearn with sickening hope deferred, for he had won the heart of the girl. Contentedly he rested in the sunshine of her smiles, and fell asleep beneath the shadow of her tresses, her small, cool hand on his fevered brow, her low words of sympathy lulling him to the land of rest and sweet dreams of her. I realize how it was with them, because it was so different with me. The chill of loneliness cast by suspicion compelled my silence on the things I was bursting to tell to sympathetic ears. My only visitor was the cheerful nurse, but she was a stranger to my woes, I thought, and could not help me.

Jim frequently asked Gabrielle concerning me. When he had been there three weeks, he manifested an unusual anxiety, for none of his inquiries had received satisfactory replies. Hygeia reported that I was slowly gaining--but very, very slowly, and could not be disturbed, not even by my brother who had called. None of Jim's folks had been down from the North to see him, as he had written them with his own hand that he would soon be out again. This made it clear to them that he was safe.

"Gabrielle, I must see Ben the minute the doctors say he is well enough," declared Jim. "Why, it is nonsense to suspect him. That fellow is my best friend; never mind what you think, you will find him loyal to me. I must see him. What will he think of me?"

"You are not well enough to manage your own affairs, Jim; believe me, you are not. I want you to give over everything into my hands and let me be your guide. Please do as I say."

She had early outlined to him the grounds for her father's suspicions, but said nothing concerning the Browning case. She emphasized my action which had frightened her father, but did not go into details, for Jim was too weak to stand the mental strain she feared might be imposed on him if he were to enter into a discussion of the matters her father had told her were conclusive evidence that Jim was a notorious criminal. It was all too ridiculous for her to believe. Her father laid great stress on the fact that Hosley had left for parts unknown, fearing to face his accusers, as corroborative of the other evidence supplied by the detectives, including his long criminal record and photographs from the Rogues' Gallery. This made it seem all the more ridiculous. Not a suspicion concerning Jim had ever entered her mind. Her knowledge of her father's obstinacy, and the evil influences surrounding him, were all the protection Jim needed. His enemies counted for him.

"Well, I suppose I shall have to do as you say, Gabrielle," said Jim, "but Ben is a good friend of mine, and it may hurt him to find I am neglecting him."

"That will come out all right, Jim. If he is a friend we shall probably learn of it as soon as he regains control of himself. He may say something about you to the nurse. If he is friendly I will talk with him first, and then we shall learn just where he stands in this matter.

Perhaps when we hear what he says we shall be glad we kept him in ignorance of you."

That day when my head appeared to be perfectly clear for the first time, and I began to ask questions, Hygeia hurried into the next room and breathlessly announced:

"Miss Tescheron, Mr. Hopkins has begun to ask questions at last. The first thing he asked almost was: 'Where is Hosley? Is he in jail? Hasn't he been here to see me? Was he hurt? Was he killed? Hasn't he written to me?' and I asked him why he should ask me. He also wanted to know who sent the flowers, and I told him, but he made no answer. He didn't seem to think it possible Miss Tescheron should send flowers to him. What do you make of it? I think he is perfectly friendly, don't you? He wants to know so much about Mr. Hosley."

"Certainly he's friendly; let me be wheeled right in to see him. Oh, please; just for a minute," begged Jim, who was now sitting up with his leg stretched out on a pillow.

"Why should he ask if you are in jail? I don't like that at all; not at all. I will not consent. He has not forgotten his treachery. I will not trust the fellow. Let us wait until he talks a little more." And so Gabrielle's caution intervened.

But I didn't ask any more questions about Hosley.

CHAPTER XIV

Circ.u.mstances usually arise along the path of folly to make it increasingly expensive. Emil Stuffer appeared to supply one important item. He had been attracted to Stevens Inst.i.tute by the a.s.sociations of his home. The students from this great school gathered around his father's hospitable fire and rested their brains when weary with the curves of a.n.a.lytical geometry and the stupid exactness of the differential calculus. Emil was clever at his profession--that of mechanical engineer--and for five years after his graduation from the Inst.i.tute had devoted himself to that career. Then his father needed his a.s.sistance in running the hotel, for in his older years A. Stuffer found it difficult to move with alacrity, and unless more speed could be introduced in the management he saw that it might appear in the departure of the guests. Emil, therefore, had come home to fall heir in due time to the business, and prior to the ceremonies attending that event, he was to be his father's lieutenant, practicing his avocation as an ornithologist, whose specialty was rare birds, at leisure moments.

Emil enjoyed also the work of the taxidermist, and loved dearly to cut and stuff. Jerry, the wonderful cat of the gla.s.s case in the office, gave only a hint of his skill and the remarkable perfection he achieved in improving the designs of nature. Under Emil's mechanical touch Jerry became far more interesting and a better advertis.e.m.e.nt for the business, when connected with his father's yarn regarding him as an electric phenomenon, than he had ever been during the days of his active existence on earth.

Mrs. Tescheron particularly admired the many specimens of birds shown in nearly every room in the house, and even Gabrielle found them interesting. Mr. Tescheron, who was something of an expert on fish, and had written a number of articles on rare specimens in the line of his specialty for the Fish Journal, was glad to take up the subject of rare birds and pursue it with similar interest. Birds and fish are allied in the student mind. Under the tutorship of Emil, he drank from the Hoboken source of bird wisdom. If Emil by some stroke of Fate had been thrown into Fulton Market for six weeks he might have become a student of fish, and Mr. Tescheron the enthusiastic teacher. If any stranger from the briny deep was hauled aboard a fishing smack and brought to our city, Mr. Tescheron was the expert who told the newspapers all about it.

He told a straight, scientific story in popular language, and until it had been rewritten by local fish editors and some twenty times more by as many other piscatorial experts, it was hardly cured to a point where it would pa.s.s in the domain of post-prandial fact. A very large whale was once brought into the market and placed on exhibition at an admission fee of one dime. The story of this whale, as interpreted by Mr. Tescheron, appeared throughout the country for many weeks afterward.

A Western version of the New York interview, as it appeared in some stereotyped plate matter of a Western news a.s.sociation, I give here verbatim, to show how truth may be improved:

=JONAH'S WHALE APARTMENT.=