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For to the right of the incomprehensible general manager sat the young ex-laird of Port Agnew; at Daney's left the old Laird beheld his new daughter-in-law, while further down the pew as far as she could retreat, Mrs. Daney, with face aflame, sat rigid, her bovine countenance upraised and her somewhat vacuous glance fixed unblinkingly at a point some forty feet over Mr. Tingley's pious head.
His demeanor appeared to say: "This is my work, and I'm proud of it." To Daney's profound amazement, The Laird smiled benignantly and thrust out his hand, which Mr. Daney shook gingerly, as one might a can of nitroglycerin. "I thank you more than you will ever realize, Andrew, for taking this matter out of my hands.
I prefer not to discuss his movements." "Andrew, I command you to." "I refuse to be commanded, sir." "That's all I wanted to know. He visited the Brents, and you know it." He saw by the flush on Daney's old face that he had hit the mark. "Well, I'm obliged to you, Andrew. You've done your full duty; so we'll not discuss the matter further.
The remembrance of Mrs. Daney's interview with her prompted the girl to flash back at him. "'Oppresses, Mr. McKaye? Since when?" He gazed upon her in frank admiration for her audacity and perspicacity. "Yes," he admitted slowly; "I dare say I deserve that. Yet, mingled with that ulterior motive you have so unerringly discerned, there is a genuine, if belated, desire to be decently human.
Andrew Daney's soul, shaken by what was to him a cosmic cataclysm, caused that good man to rise at five o'clock and go down to the hospital for another look at Dirty Dan. To his anxious queries the doctor shook a dubious head, but the indomitable O'Leary smiled wanly. "Go on wit' ye!" he wheezed faintly. "I'll win be a hair-line decision."
Daney's honest cachinnations now were so infectious that Nan commenced to laugh with him heartily, but no longer with that strident little note of resentment, and cumulatively, as Mr. Daney's mirth mounted until the honest fellow's tears cascaded across his ruddy cheeks. "Egad, Nan," he declared presently, "but you have a rare sense of humor! Yes, do it. Do it!
However, the Fates ordained that Andrew Daney should be spared the trouble of advising Dirty Dan, for as the latter came shuffling down the hall toward Daney's office door, The Laird emerged from his old office and accosted his henchman. "Well, Dan!" he greeted the convalescent, "how do you find yourself these days?" "Poorly, sir, poorly," Dirty Dan declared.
I'm planning to shut down the mill and the logging-camps for three days," he replied glibly. Of late he was finding it much easier to lie to her than to tell the truth, and he had observed with satisfaction that Mrs. Daney's bovine brain assimilated either with equal avidity.
Daney's shoulder. "Where did you hide the boat, Mr. Daney? Answer me. I'll not be trifled with." "I scuttled her if you must have the truth." "I knew you wouldn't lie to me. On whose orders, Mr. Daney? My father's?" "No, sir; it was my own idea." Daney's face was white with mental and physical distress and red with confusion, by turns. His shoulder was numb. "Why?"
I did the minute she entered Donald's room." "And you demanded a show-down then and there?" Parenthetically it may be stated that Mr. Daney's intimate knowledge of The Laird's character prompted this question. He was certain of an affirmative reply. "I did." "And her answer was satisfactory?" "Absolutely!" "So I judged from the fact that you shook hands with me upon entering my office.
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