CHAPTER XXVII.

“OUR CONGRESSMAN-ELECT.”

On their return to New York, Jim plunged into business. It was settled that they were to start on their tour immediately after the wedding, going first to the Bermudas, and from there to wherever their fancy dictated. And as the duration of their stay was as uncertain as was the direction in which they were to travel, Jim was anxious to place his business in such shape as to require as little attention from him in the near future as possible.

This required considerable labor, for he had a great many different matters to arrange.

First, he wanted a good, reliable agent, and for all the city seemed flooded with men out of employment, Jim found the proper man very difficult to find, for he not only required an honest, capable business man, whom he could trust to collect his rents, and have general supervision over his estate during his absence, but it was also necessary that the agent should be a kindly, sympathetic man, who would judiciously care for some two score of poor people in whom Jim was interested.

First he tried advertising. He drew up a short advertisement, stating in plain terms just what he wanted, and for the next few days he was besieged at the house by innumerable applicants. There were applicants of all ages and styles; applicants who were highly educated, and applicants who could neither read nor write; applicants who were timid and humbly besought a trial; and applicants who were “cheeky,” and demanded the position as their right, and who generally abused Jim when they did not get it. There was the chronic applicant who was always applying for a position and never obtaining one, and the young applicant making his first attempt at self-support.

It was strange that out of all these applicants Jim could not find one to suit him. But his ideas were well set, and he had made up his mind as to just what he wanted. So he sat patiently under this infliction that he had brought upon himself as long as he could stand it. Then he fled, and the servant was instructed to inform all other applicants that the position was filled, Jim considering that this small lie was justifiable under the circumstances.

But instead of being discouraged, Jim was only the more determined to obtain his man. He thought he would try the intelligence offices. So he started early in the morning, in order to visit as many of them as possible unless he found his man. Very little of this, however, convinced him that the class of help he wanted did not patronize these institutions. So he very soon gave them up.

“I guess I must be mighty hard to suit,” thought Jim, as, hungry but undaunted, he started home for dinner. “But I am going to get him somehow, if he is in New York.”

As he turned into his street, he noticed in front of him the figure of a tall, elderly man, dressed in cleanly brushed but threadbare black clothes, who was walking rapidly on ahead of him. He was evidently looking for some place, for he would sometimes stop to scan the number of the house he was passing, and then would hurry feverishly along.

Jim, whose strong, rapid stride kept him near this stranger, once or twice caught sight of his face. It was rather a pleasing face, with long, gray whiskers; a kindly-looking face, Jim thought, although it was a very anxious-looking face just now.

He had walked on for a block or two, watching the old man curiously, before it struck Jim that this might be another applicant. And it was. For, as soon as the stranger arrived at Jim’s number, he mounted the steps and rang the bell.

Jim could see by the restless motion of his hands that the old man was very nervous, although he was evidently trying hard to conceal it.

The door opened just as Jim reached the house. There were a few words passed between the man and the servant, and then the door was closed, and the man turned wearily to go down the steps.

Jim was absolutely frightened at the change in the man’s face as he stepped aside to let him pass. It was overspread with that grayish pallor that only comes over the face of the aged, and his steps, which a moment before were hurried and elastic, now were feeble and slow. He seemed to creep rather than walk.

“Poor fellow!” thought Jim, “he has been buoyed up by hopes. I have half a mind to go after him.”

Even as he thought thus, the man turned, and, seeing Jim on the steps, looking at him, stopped as if to return. Seeing this, Jim motioned to him.

“I saw you coming from my door,” he said kindly, “and I thought perhaps you wished to see me.”

“I did,” the old man replied hopelessly. “That is, I wished to apply for a position; but your servant tells me it is filled.”

“I told her to say so,” said Jim candidly. “I have been troubled by the wrong class of applicants, and they became a nuisance; but I have not filled the place yet. You see, I am rather hard to please.”

The old man’s face lighted up again.

“I hope I can please you, sir,” he said. “I would be pleased to answer any questions.”

“Come in with me,” replied Jim, “and I will see you about it.”

They entered the house together, and went at once to the library.

“There,” said Jim, opening his desk, and giving the man pen and paper, “be pleased to write your name.”

He turned away as he spoke, and crossed the room. He had hardly done so, when he was startled by a gasping cry from the old man. He turned to him at once.

“Are you ill?” he asked. “Is there anything the matter?”

The old man made no reply. On the desk stood a picture of little Clinton--one that Jim had had framed and kept constantly before him. This the old man had seized in both hands, and he lay back in his chair, staring at it blankly. His face was deathly pale, while his eyes blazed fiercely.

“Where did you get it?” he gasped. “How came this here?”

This was certainly strange conduct, and Jim was not altogether pleased.

“That is our little boy,” he said shortly. “Does it remind you of some one you know?”

The old man stared at him.

“Your little boy?” he gasped. “I thought it was--that is----” He stopped to recover himself. “I beg your pardon,” he said humbly. “But it recalled another face. I am sorry if I have annoyed you.” And he turned to the desk and wrote his name, “Arthur Harland,” in a bold, plain hand. “I beg your pardon,” he said again in that same humble tone.

Jim was rather pleased with him, in spite of his strange conduct. He asked him several questions, and received satisfactory replies.

He had been out of a position for some months, the old man said; and Jim could see how poverty had gripped him during that time.

He gave a very good list of references, giving, among others, the name of Jim’s lawyer. He would leave the question of compensation with Mr. Darling.

Jim thought he had his man at last.

“I know some of these names,” he said, “and will make inquiries. If I find you worthy of confidence, I will give you the position. If you will call to-morrow at this time I will let you know. In the meantime, you can do a small favor for me.” And Jim inclosed ten dollars in an envelope, and wrote a line stating, that this was an advance on the first month’s salary, if he was employed. “There,” he said, putting it in the man’s hand; “now call to-morrow.”

Harland, supposing the envelope to be directed, placed it in an inside pocket, and, after another lingering glance at the picture on the desk, bowed himself out.

Jim made the necessary inquiries that afternoon, and as everything was satisfactory, Mr. Harland was duly installed as his manager, secretary, and general factotum; and, having at last got this burden off his mind, Jim proceeded with his more important business.

It was necessary that there should be considerable ready money to cover the expenses of the proposed tour, and Jim looked about him to see which of their several properties could be sold to the best advantage.

Their aunt had left them, with the rest of the estate, a plot of some hundred acres of wild land situated somewhere in northern Michigan. This was supposed to be of little value, but he decided to sell it for whatever it would bring.

Having once seen the value of advertising, Jim tried it again, and caused to be published in several Michigan papers a description of the land, with a notice that it was for sale.

“I must be lucky in my advertising,” he said to Norine one morning at breakfast. “You remember my advertising for help?”

Norine laughed.

“Yes, I remember it. I was kept in the house for two days by it,” she said. “Do you consider that lucky?”

“Why, yes,” replied Jim coolly. “It was something to keep you from gadding around so much; and then it certainly attracted attention enough. That is what advertising is for. But I wanted to speak of something else.”

“Well, you can, dear,” said Norine sweetly. “I won’t prevent you.” And then she added indignantly: “_My_ gadding around! The idea!”

Jim laughed.

“The shoe must have pinched a little,” he said slyly.

“I thought you were going to speak about something else, sir?”

“Well, I am, if you give me a chance. I was about to say that I had received another proof of my marvelous luck in advertising. Perhaps you are not aware that we are the joint owners of nearly a thousand acres of land somewhere up in Michigan?”

“No, I was not aware of it.”

“Well, it is so,” continued Jim; “and as I thought best to sell the land, if I could find any one weak enough to buy it, I had it advertised in the Michigan papers; and mark the result! It is only a week or so ago that I wrote the advertisement, and I have an answer already.”

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Norine, in mock astonishment. “What a clever fellow you are! But why do you wish to sell it?”

“Because,” replied he, “a certain sister of mine is going to be married, and then proposes to drag me over the greater part of the world with her, and that costs money.”

“I drag you?” cried Norine. “Just as if you hadn’t proposed it yourself!”

“Did I?” he inquired innocently. “Well, perhaps I did. But, Norry, there is one thing about this that strikes me as being odd.”

“What is it, dear?”

“Why, we had supposed the land to be nearly valueless, and here is a man--and a lawyer”--Jim laid convincing stress on that word--“who lives right there, and should know something about it, makes an offer for it as soon as it is placed in the market. That land may be more valuable than we supposed,” he concluded thoughtfully.

“What are you going to do about it, dear?” inquired Norine.

“I don’t know,” said Jim slowly. “That is, I do know,” he added determinedly. “By George! I will run up there and see it for myself.”

Norine clapped her hands joyfully.

“How nice!” she said. “When do we start?”

“Well,” replied her brother coolly, “I had no idea _we_ were going to start. I thought a girl who expected to be married within a month or so would have enough to do at home.”

“Now don’t be mean, Jim,” cried Norine. “You know I am all done. Of course you will take me, Jim?” she coaxed. “There is plenty of time.”

“I don’t know,” said he. “How long will it take you to get ready?”

“I can be ready in half an hour,” she replied promptly.

“Well, that settles it. Of course you can’t get ready in half an hour. But if you can get ready in two or three hours, you can go.”

And he went out to telegraph the lawyer that he was coming.

Norine made her preparations, and found time enough to write to Conway, telling him that they were going away to be gone a week or ten days. And shortly afterward the brother and sister set out on their unexpected journey.

They were in a hurry, but not enough so as to make the journey fatiguing. So it was the evening of the third day thereafter when they arrived at the city of sand and sawdust, and were driven to the hotel.

Immediately after they arrived, Jim hunted up Mr. Coleman, and introduced himself.

“I am glad to see you,” said Peter heartily. He knew this young man was rich, and his business might be worth getting. “You are just in time,” he went on, shaking Jim’s hand with vigor. “We are going to give a little reception to-night to our congressman-elect. I will be glad to introduce you.”

“I am very sorry,” replied Jim politely; “but my sister is with me, and I should not care to leave her alone.”

“Not necessary,” said Peter. “Elwell--that’s our congressman’s name--is going to speak from the hotel veranda, so you need not leave the house. I will secure a good place for your sister.”

And Peter bustled off to do as he said, while Jim returned to their rooms.

He was not greatly interested in this congressman-elect; at least, not until after supper. So they had that meal sent to their rooms to avoid the crowd, and dawdled so long over it that the speaker had commenced his oration before they had finished.

A boy came to the door.

“If you please,” he said, “Mr. Coleman sent me to say that a chair was reserved for Miss Darling.”

So Jim took her into a big room at the front of the house, where a number of ladies were sitting, and after introducing her to Mr. Coleman, left her in his charge and went downstairs for a smoke.

The room was a large one, having three windows, all open, for the veranda from which the orator spoke was directly in front of these windows, and the ladies were expected to see and hear all they could through them.

They could hear well enough; but as the windows were very low, their seeing was confined to the orator’s trousers, with an occasional glimpse of his shoes.

After being seated, Norine looked calmly around her. Directly in front of her were seated a pale, overdressed woman, and a fat jolly-looking old man.

Some one said that this was the congressman’s wife and her father.

Norine made mental comment, woman-like, on her taste in the matter of dress, and then sat back in her chair and listened.

What was there in that man’s voice that made it sound so strangely familiar? Surely she had never met him. The sound was changed somewhat by his being out of doors, and speaking with his back to the window; but there was something in the cadence that haunted her. She tired of wondering about it after a while, and thought she would return to her room; but on looking around, she discovered that she was completely hemmed in, so she stayed perforce.

She had lost the drift of the speech altogether, and was thinking dreamily of her approaching wedding, when a sudden silence, followed by a roar of applause, showed that the speech was at end; and a moment later the congressman-elect entered the room through one of the open windows.

Norine glanced at him curiously, and then started upright, with her hands pressed over her heart. My God! Who could this be? Could the dead return to life? Her sudden movement attracted attention, and drew Elwell’s eyes to hers, and he staggered back against the wall, pale with fright, and gasped:

“Norine!”

That was enough. It was he, and alive. She stretched out her arms to him, and cried:

“Clinton! Oh, my God, Clinton!” and sank down upon the floor insensible.

“Who was she? What did it all mean?” the crowd cried, and were all excitement.

Peter was the only cool one in the room. He pushed his way over to Elwell, and seized him by the arm.

“Get out of here!” he said fiercely. “Get out of here at once! Her brother is downstairs! Go out the back way and go to your office. Stay there until I see you!”

Whispering thus, he forced the dazed man from the room; and then, by telling them that he had gone home, got rid of Fanny and her father.

Norine was at once removed to her own room, and her brother sent for; and by degrees the rest were sent away, talking of this strange girl and the sensation she had created.

Peter waited until Jim came out of his sister’s room.

“What does this mean?” he said. “I thought your name was Darling?”

“It is Darling,” replied Jim. “My true name is Darling, but we were brought up under the name of Bright. Now, tell me, where I can find that scoundrel?” he cried, white with passion. “He tried to take my life once, and by the living God, I will give him another chance!”

“Wait until morning,” said Peter smoothly. “Wait until morning; and if he has wronged you, we will have satisfaction;” and Peter hurried off to join Elwell, not quite decided on which side to act.

The ship was sinking, and to try and defend it against poor Norine Bright was one thing; but to try to hold out against Norine Darling and her money, let alone her brother, that was an entirely different matter.

So, after promising to meet Mr. Darling the first thing in the morning, Peter hurried off to see Elwell, as yet undecided on which side to cast his lot.