The Dominant Dollar Part 37

"But you can 'deliver,' as you say," shortly. "You know it yourself."

Armstrong shook his head.

"I'm not as b.u.mptious as I was a few years ago," he commented. "I'd have said 'yes' then undoubtedly. Now--I don't know."

Roberts swung about in his desk chair, the crease between his eyes suddenly grown deep.

"Nonsense," he refuted curtly. "You're not the first man in the world who has done something to regret. Every one has in some way or another--and profited by the experience. It's forgotten already, I say, man. Let it pa.s.s at that, and go ahead as though nothing had happened. By the way, have you had supper--or do you call it dinner?"

For the first time Armstrong looked at the speaker and, forgetting for the instant, he almost smiled. The question was characteristic.

"I've already dined, thank you," he said.

Without comment Roberts called up the _cafe_ and ordered delivered his customary busy-day lunch of sandwiches and coffee.

"I'm going East on the eleven-fifty limited to-night," he explained, "and there are several things I've got to see to first." In voluntary relaxation from work he slipped down in the big chair until his head rested on the back. Thereafter for a long time, for longer doubtless than he realized, he sat so, looking at the other man; not rudely or unpleasantly, but with the old, absent, a.n.a.lytical expression large upon his face. At last he roused.

"I suppose," he began abruptly, "you're wondering what it is I wish to speak with you about. I'll explain in advance that it's of your personal affairs purely, nothing else. Would you prefer me not to intrude?"

For a moment Armstrong did not answer, but with an effort he looked at the questioner directly.

"If it were a couple of days back," he said, "I should have answered 'yes' emphatically. Now--" his glance wandered out the window, resting on the brick wall opposite, "now I hardly know. You've earned a sort of right to wield the probe; and besides--"

"Never mind the right," shortly. "I tell you last night is forgotten. I meant to see you and have the same talk anyway--with your permission."

Still Armstrong hesitated, looking steadily away. "You've condoned the fact, then, that I've cut you dead on the street regularly?"

"I understood--and didn't blame you. There are dozens of people who know Old Man Roberts and still never see him when pa.s.sing face to face. It's all in the game."

At last Armstrong's glance returned, almost with wonder. "And you don't lay it up against them?"

"Sometimes. Usually, however, not. Life's too short to play with toys; and enmities are toys--double-edged ones at that. You haven't answered my question yet."

"I know; but just a moment more. Do you recall, by the way, a prophecy I made once, years ago?"

"Yes; it never came true as far as I am concerned."

"Perhaps you never had cause to have it do so."

"Possibly."

"With me it did come about. I've hated you ever since--from the day you left. Do you realize why I haven't answered your question?"

"Yes, why you haven't. I'm still waiting."

"I'm wondering," mused Armstrong, "why I don't hate you, now that we're here together. I've thought a lot of bitter things about you, more than about any one in the world. I don't know why I don't say them now that I've got the chance."

"Yes, you have the chance. I'm listening."

"I know." Armstrong's long fingers were twitching nervously. Despite an effort to prevent his lower lip trembled in sympathy. "And still, now that for the first time I have the chance, I can't. I don't want to. I--"

Of a sudden an uncontrollable moisture came into his eyes, and he s.h.i.+fted about abruptly until his face was hid. "d.a.m.n you, Darley Roberts!" he stormed inadequately, "I don't want to a bit, but after all I trust you and--and like you. You have my permission to intrude. I want you to, have wanted you to a hundred times." The Rubicon was crossed at last and he made the admission that for long had trembled on his tongue. "Somehow I can't get along without you and keep my nerve. I think you're the only person in the world who even in a measure understands me, and can maybe make a man of me again."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "You mean to suggest that Elice," he began, "that Elice--You dare to suggest that to me?" (_Page 107_)]

In his place Darley Roberts sat looking at the other, merely looking at him. The silence grew embarra.s.sing, lasted into minutes; but still unconsciously he remained as he was. At last suddenly his eyes dropped and simultaneously the fingers of his big hands twitched in a way that heralded action. Whatever the problem of that period of silence decision had come.

"I think I understand what you mean," he said deliberately. "Perhaps, too, it's true. I don't know. Anyway I'll try to play the game--try to."

He remembered, and the hands lay still. "By the way, you're not working now?"

"No."

"Have you anything definite in sight?"

Despite the permission he had granted but a moment before Armstrong colored; with an effort he met his questioner frankly.

"No," again.

"That's good. It occurred to me that it might clear the atmosphere here a bit if you went away for a time. What do you say to McLean's for a couple of weeks?"

On Armstrong's face the red of a moment ago changed to white, a white which spread to his very lips.

"And take the cure, you mean! Do you think, really, it's as bad with me as that?"

"No," bluntly; "I'd have said so if I had. But just because you might not contract pneumonia is no reason for not wearing an overcoat when the thermometer is at zero. I'd go if I were you, just as I'd be vaccinated if there was an epidemic of small-pox prevalent."

"But the admission! A confirmed alcoholic!"

"Confirmed nothing. Your going is no one's business but your own. The place is a general sanatorium; it's advertised so. Anyway you will have good company. The biggest bondholder in the Traction Company is there now. Do you happen to have the money that you'll need convenient?"

"No. That's another rub; and besides--on the square, Darley, I don't need to do that--yet. I know after last night things look bad; but--"

"I understand perfectly. Let's not waste ammunition on a man of straw.

The change will do you good, though, anyway. I'd go myself for the sake of that big marble plunge if I could spare the time." He was writing a check swiftly. "Pay it back when something drops," he proffered; "there will be something develop soon--there always is. By the way, why not go along with me to-night? It's on the same road."

Armstrong accepted the slip of paper mechanically; a real moisture came into his eyes, and he held it back at arm's length.

"Darley, confound you," he protested, "I can't accept that. I simply can't!"

"Can't--why? It's good. Try it anywhere down town."

"You know I don't mean that; but--"

"Yes--" The big fingers were twitching ominously.

"But after--what's past--"

"Wouldn't you make me a loan if positions were reversed?" shortly.

"Yes, certainly; but--"