The Vision of Elijah Berl - Part 13
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Part 13

"There's plenty of water, all right, and good water too. We'll show him, won't we, Helen?"

"I'll believe that when I see it. Lucky thing the Lord didn't start in makin' man in this section," growled Uncle Sid, "he wouldn't have had water enough to have pasted him together with. He'd a had dust enough, goodness knows. I want a handbellus, to blow off some o' this dust. Just as sure as I touch water I shan't be nothin' but a mud puddle."

"You can afford to even up, Uncle Sid. You've had more than your share of water all your life. A little soil won't hurt you now."

"Huh!" Uncle Sid grunted. "I was on top of the water then, an' I kept there. This dirt gets on top o' me an' inside me an' everywhere it ain't no business to be. Here's Eunice now. Look here, Eunice, here's an old friend o' yours, and here's Miss Lonsdale, a new friend o' mine, and I won't swap either."

A tall woman, deliberate in all her motions, advanced upon the little party. Her eyes rested for a moment upon Elijah as he rose with extended hand, then, acknowledging the introduction to Helen, they slipped from Elijah and glanced slowly over Helen from her boots to the coils of dark hair that crowned her head. Helen experienced a creeping sensation. The touch of the deliberate eyes reminded her of the inquisitive fingers of a jockey feeling for blemishes on the smooth limbs of a horse.

Mrs. MacGregor seated herself with studied elegance.

"It occurs to me, Sidney, that Miss Lonsdale may object to your rather broad claims to her friendship upon so short an acquaintance."

"I guess she's able to let me know her own mind. We took to each other like ducks to a patch o' wild rice. I'm too old to be dangerous an'

young enough to know what's good for me."

Mrs. MacGregor ignored her brother's remark. She turned to Elijah.

"How does the change from sedate New England to this new life affect you, Elijah?"

"Not at all, personally, Mrs. MacGregor. I'm just the same 'Lige you used to know."

Uncle Sid broke in.

"Perhaps not your innards, but your outards ain't the same. You ain't goin' around here barefoot, with two kinds o' cloth in your pants."

Mrs. MacGregor's eyes were wandering from Helen to Elijah. She was comparing the evidences of sight gathered from personal inspection, with those of hearsay, the result of her indirect inquiries among the hotel guests, as to Elijah's standing in Ysleta. At length she arose, holding out her hand to Elijah.

"I shall hope to renew our old acquaintance. It is a great pleasure to find one's estimates of an old friend more than exceeded."

Elijah took Mrs. MacGregor's hand. In spite of his bewilderment over their implied intimacy in the past, he felt a glow of pride that she felt it worth her while to expand the mustard seed of their former acquaintance into a luxuriant growth. He gave the limp hand a warm pressure.

"Let me do anything I can for your pleasure, Mrs. MacGregor. I am always at your service."

Mrs. MacGregor bowed formally to Helen.

"We shall meet again, I hope. You are stopping here?"

"Yes." Helen could hardly bring herself to this curt response. She felt more like slapping.

It did not escape Mrs. MacGregor, who was following Uncle Sid from the room, that Helen had begun to move as well, and that she was checked by an almost imperceptible gesture from Elijah.

"What about tomorrow, Helen?" he asked.

"You mean the Pacific bank?"

"Yes. It's not our secret now. Every one knows that the run will begin when the bank opens."

"There's only one thing to be done. You must be the first in line."

Elijah took a few quick turns then came to a sudden halt before Helen.

"That's impossible. The line's a mile long now." He laughed uneasily over the exaggeration.

"Then we are out of it, after all."

Elijah hesitated.

"Not necessarily."

Helen leaped to the point of Elijah's meaning.

"You can't do that. You mustn't!"

"Why not? It's our money."

"You know why not." Helen spoke sharply.

"Mellin has fixed it all up." Elijah insisted.

"You know what that means, as well as I do." Helen's voice was sharper and more decided.

Elijah was again striding up and down. He looked at his watch, then snapped it shut and thrust it into his pocket.

"Well, goodnight, Helen, I'll think it over."

"Don't do it. It's dangerous to think about some things."

Helen was alone, walking thoughtfully to her room. Her old mood had returned with even darker shadows. Why couldn't she act on her own keen suggestion and stop thinking about dangerous things? This question occurred to her. Another point suggested itself. Mellin was reading clearly in Elijah that about which she had only vague presentiments.

CHAPTER TEN

The first brick in Ysleta's speculative row had toppled against its fellow and the whole line was threatened with collapse. Some worthless speculator had begun it by trying to "cash in." The news had spread like wild-fire that the Pacific was to be the first point of attack. There was no time for aid to reach it from the San Francis...o...b..nks, even had they been disposed to tender a.s.sistance. As for the local banks, they were too busy furling their own sails for the coming storm, to think of going to the rescue of the storm's first victim.

Early as was the hour, the sharp-lined figures of the depositors jammed against the closed doors of the bank and faded to dim shadows at the far end of the line. Men, who a few hours before had bowed with deference to their fellow men, were now like savage tigers, holding their places with tooth and claw bared for immediate and merciless action. Woe to the luckless one who in the jam, was crowded from his position. There was no hope for him but in the far distance where men were shadows. No word was spoken. There was no need of words where moonlight gleamed coldly on shining steel. A hand to hand fight meant the end of the line for the defender as well as the one who attacked.

Only one thing could have broken the solid ranks. Could any one in that fierce array of self-seekers have seen a man slink from a half-opened window in the rear of the bank, creep from shadow to shadow in the direction of the Rio Vista, and finally disappear within a secluded arbor, a timid fox in a pack of ravening hounds would have had a better chance of life than he.

Pale as the moonlight that lay soft and white about him, Elijah stood, awaiting Mellin.

"I have decided that I cannot take the money."

"What the devil are you here for then?"

"To tell that I will take chances with the rest."