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"It's quite an intimate interest, isn't it?" "'But never can battle of men compare With merciless feminine fray'" quoted Io pensively. "Kipling is a sophomore about women," retorted Miss Van Arsdale. "We're not going to quarrel over Errol Banneker. The odds are too unfair." "Unfair?" queried Io, with a delicate lift of brow. "Don't misunderstand me.
Without replying Donaldson returned to his chair on the opposite side of the bed and watched him as a physician might after injecting a medicine. Arsdale stared back at him in dumb terror. Donaldson could almost see the gruesome pictures which danced witch-like through his disordered brain. He did n't enjoy the torture, but he must know just how much he had upon which to work.
At sight of the white strip across her forehead, he caught his breath. "What does this mean?" he demanded with quick assumption of authority. "You must n't think it is anything serious," she hastened to explain, awed by the fierceness of his manner. "It is only that that he came back." "Arsdale?" "Yes." "Where is he now?" "He went away again.
"Elaine," he cried, "it is I Donaldson." There was the sound of movement within, and then came the stricken plea, "Go away. Please go away." Arsdale answered, "Let me in, Elaine. Nothing shall hurt you. I'll " Donaldson turned upon him and the nurse. "Go down-stairs," he commanded. His voice made them both shudder back. "Go down-stairs," he repeated. "Do you hear! Leave her to me!"
"Your life is n't long enough to do it fully, but you can accomplish something towards it if you start at once." Arsdale shook his head. "It's all a beastly mess. It 's too late!" Donaldson's lips tightened. "Well," he asked, "if you are n't going to do what you can, what do you propose?" Thickly Arsdale answered, "I know a way; I 'm going to pull out for the sake of Elaine!"
Personally I couldn't believe it. It felt like a boat, and it rocked like a boat, and there were the seats and the oars. I could feel them. A steel boat! Miss Van Arsdale, it isn't reasonable." "Why isn't it reasonable? "I looked on the map in his room and there isn't so much as a mud-puddle within miles and miles and miles. Is there?" "Not that I know of."
At times Arsdale looked like a craven cornered to his death at times like a man struggling with a great grief at times like a man dazed and uncomprehending. To himself he moaned continuously. Frequently he rose to his elbow with the cry, "Is she hurt?" Still in silence Donaldson watched him. Once Arsdale fell forward on his chin, where he lay motionless, his eyes still upon Donaldson.
"I would n't agitate her further." To the girl, she said, "Don't you think you had better lie down for a little, Miss Arsdale?" "Please don't worry about me," she replied calmly, "I am going to change my dress and then I shall come down-stairs. I wish you would go to Marie both of you. It is she who needs attention." "But " broke in Arsdale. "There's a good boy.
Then he ordered his cab to the restaurant of Wun Chung. The Derelict Chung had news for him; he had not yet found Arsdale, but his men reported that yesterday the boy had been concealed at Hop Tung's, where Saul had first suspected him to be. The evil-eyed proprietor had hidden him, half in terror of Arsdale himself and half through lust of his money.
"Not unless she was a very dull and stupid woman with little to understand," smiled Miss Van Arsdale. "What are you doing to-day?" "Riding down to lunch with your paragon of a station-agent." Miss Van Arsdale shook her head dubiously. "I'm afraid he'll miss his daily stimulant after you've gone. It has been daily, hasn't it?" "I suppose it has, just about," admitted the girl.
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