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Updated: May 23, 2025
To John Merkle the ride was terrible, with a drunkard at the reins and in his own arms a perhaps fatally injured man, who, despite the tortures of that bumping carriage, interspersed his groans with cries of "Hurry, Hurry!" But, while Merkle was appalled at the situation and its possible consequences, he felt, nevertheless, that Hammon had acted in quite the proper way.
Men were running from stable to garage, others were scouring the grounds; from the open door came a voice pitched high in anger. The speaker was evidently beside himself with wrath. He was shouting orders to scurrying attendants, and abusing the manager, who hovered near him in a frantic but futile effort at pacification. The enraged person proved to be Jarvis Hammon.
"Me? No. I'll stay and help Lilas make her get- away." Merkle nodded agreement. "Don't let her get out of your sight, either, understand? There's a ship sailing in the morning. See that she's aboard." Jarvis Hammon spoke. "I want you all to know that I'm entirely to blame and that I did this myself. Lilas is a good girl."
Melcher in his blackmail scheme, or " Another possibility came to her "Were you by any chance working for Mrs. Hammon?" Divining his sister's prejudice, Jim lied promptly and convincingly. "Why, Mrs. Hammon, of course. I had a chance to turn a few dollars, and I took it." "But why did they drag me in? Couldn't you keep me out of it? This is dreadful."
Lorelei gasped, for on the front page glared black-typed head- lines of the Hammon scandal. John Merkle's name was there, too and linked with it, her own. "Jim!" she cried aghast. "They promised to kill the story." "Humph! Charley Murphy himself couldn't kill that." "What is THIS?" She ran her eye swiftly down the column. "Sure. Melcher commenced suit against Hammon this afternoon.
Merkle returned to the library, sent Lorelei in to her brother's assistance, then scanned his friend's face anxiously. But Hammon had not moved; the sweat still stood upon his lips and forehead, his jaws were still set like stone. "No scandal, John," he exclaimed. "No scandal whatever happens on account of my girls." "You're worse hit than you'll admit," Merkle said, gently. "No, no.
The iron-master smiled pallidly as his friend came and knelt beside him. "You got here quickly." "Are you badly hurt, Jarvis?" "The damned thing is in here somewhere." Hammon took his hand away from his breast, and Merkle saw that the fingers were bloody. "Can you get me out of here quietly?" John Merkle rose to his full height, his lips writhed back from his teeth.
"Come quick quick." "What's wrong?" he demanded, with a sharp change of tone. "Has Bob ?" "No, no. It's Mr. Hammon. He's down-stairs with Lilas, and he's hurt shot. I I'm frightened." She turned to find Bob and Jim staring at her. "Come," she gasped. "I think he's dying." She led the way swiftly, and they followed.
Hammon and the girls." Hammon groaned. "But we mustn't leave a trail, understand? Now go quickly, and do the best you can." He followed Bob to the door and let him out. Instead of returning to the library, however, Merkle stepped swiftly down the hall, then, without knocking, opened the door to Lilas Lynn's bedroom and entered.
Hammon and he had been friends for many years; they shared a mutual respect and affection, and, although Merkle was eminently practical and unemotional, he prayed now as best he could that this alarm might be false, and that Hammon might not be grievously injured. Meanwhile he wedged himself into the cushions of the reeling car and urged his driver to more speed.
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