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Updated: June 29, 2025
Haney who came to Alice Heath's dinner at the Antlers was in outward seeming an entirely different person from the constrained young wife who stepped into Lee Congdon's home that night of her first dinner. She was gowned now in that severe good taste which betokens a high-priced "ladies' tailor" combined with very judicious criticism.
I have a game shoulder, nearly well now, but it gives me a twinge occasionally. The train's on time, I believe." A blast from the locomotive and a humming of the rails woke the station to life. Archie grabbed the larger of Congdon's bags and led the way toward a voice bawling "Chicago sleeper."
Baring retired after the dinner had been served, and the Governor, in cozy accord with his cigar, remarked suddenly: "Odd; you might almost say singular! I've crossed old man Congdon's trail again! You recall him the old boy we left to the tender mercies of Seebrook and Walters?" "Yes; go on!" exclaimed Archie so impatiently that the Governor eyed him in surprise.
Archie pretended to share Congdon's surprise at this confession, delivered without the quiver of an eyelash. "I should never have guessed it," said Congdon. "I had sized you up as a college professor, or perhaps a lecturer on applied ethics," he added with a laugh; "we hardly look the black wretches we are!" "Let us hope not! But now to business.
Ten o'clock finds me wishful towards the bed." He said this with a faint smile. But the pathos of it, the truth of it, went to Bertha's heart, as it did to Mrs. Congdon's. Not merely was his body maimed, but his mind had correspondingly been weakened by that tearing charge of shot. Something of his native Celtic gallantry came back to him as he said: "Sure, Mrs. Congdon, we've had a fine evening.
Allie was the happy bride, the bridegroom being Frank Congdon, the young man who so chivalrously came to her rescue when she was so grossly insulted by the brutal Joe Porter. Congdon's father, who was a retired merchant, had had extensive business transactions with some of the Bayton establishments.
"But you didn't, Archie! You couldn't have done anything so foolish. My tutoring hasn't been wholly wasted on you, after all. You managed the trip admirably; I haven't a point to criticize; but now to get down to brass tacks. What you learned of old Eliphalet Congdon's meddlesomeness jibes exactly with what I know of his character. Let me show you something, Archie."
In rearranging the table he found a telegram under a plate at what he assumed to be Mrs. Congdon's place. To read a message not intended for his eyes was decidedly against his strict code, but his curiosity overcame his scruples and these words met his eyes: New York, June 10, 1917. Mrs. Alice B. Congdon, Bailey Harbor, Maine. Your letter has your characteristic touch of cruelty.
Congdon's assurance that he is ashamed of himself, and now you are at liberty to go your way." "At liberty!" grumbled one: but, to Hetty's surprise, they went. Jack might not understand women: he could master men. For her part she thought he might have shaken hands and parted in good-fellowship. She listened to the sportsmen's unsteady retreat.
He was afraid to ask further questions about the car and his senses were numbed by the effort to determine whether it was Hoky he had shot or Mr. Putney Congdon. If his bullet had impinged upon Congdon's person, the man would undoubtedly believe his wife had ordered him murdered, and Archie found no consolation in the conjecture that he had added to Mrs. Congdon's distress.
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