The Essential Booth Tarkington Collection. Booth Tarkington
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engaged, hasn't he?"
"No. But I know he isn't. Maybe when he first came here he was near it, but I know he's not."
"I guess Mildred Palmer would LIKE him to be, all right!" Mrs. Adams was frank enough to say, rather triumphantly; and Alice, with a lowered head, murmured:
"Anybody--would."
The words were all but inaudible.
"Don't you worry," her mother said, and patted her on the shoulder. "Everything will come out all right; don't you fear, Alice. Can't you see that beside any other girl in town you're just a perfect QUEEN? Do you think any young man that wasn't prejudiced, or something, would need more than just one look to----"
But Alice moved away from the caressing hand. "Never mind, mama. I wonder he looks at me at all. And if he does again, after seeing my brother with those horrible people----"
"Now, now!" Mrs. Adams interrupted, expostulating mournfully. "I'm sure Walter's a GOOD boy----"
"You are?" Alice cried, with a sudden vigour. "You ARE?"
"I'm sure he's GOOD, yes--and if he isn't, it's not his fault. It's mine."
"What nonsense!"
"No, it's true," Mrs. Adams lamented. "I tried to bring him up to be good, God knows; and when he was little he was the best boy I ever saw. When he came from Sunday-school he'd always run to me and we'd go over the lesson together; and he let me come in his room at night to hear his prayers almost until he was sixteen. Most boys won't do that with their mothers--not nearly that long. I tried so hard to bring him up right--but if anything's gone wrong it's my fault."
"How could it be? You've just said----"
"It's because I didn't make your father this--this new step earlier. Then Walter might have had all the advantages that other----"
"Oh, mama, PLEASE!" Alice begged her. "Let's don't go over all that again. Isn't it more important to think what's to be done about him? Is he going to be allowed to go on disgracing us as he does?"
Mrs. Adams sighed profoundly. "I don't know what to do," she confessed, unhappily. "Your father's so upset about--about this new step he's taking--I don't feel as if we ought to----"
"No, no!" Alice cried. "Papa mustn't be distressed with this, on top of everything else. But SOMETHING'S got to be done about Walter."
"What can be?" her mother asked, helplessly. "What can be?"
Alice admitted that she didn't know.
At dinner, an hour later, Walter's habitually veiled glance lifted, now and then, to touch her furtively;--he was waiting, as he would have said, for her to "spring it"; and he had prepared a brief and sincere defense to the effect that he made his own living, and would like to inquire whose business it was to offer intrusive comment upon his private conduct. But she said nothing, while his father and mother were as silent as she. Walter concluded that there was to be no attack, but changed his mind when his father, who ate only a little, and broodingly at that, rose to leave the table and spoke to him.
"Walter," he said, "when you've finished I wish you'd come up to my room. I got something I want to say to you."
Walter shot a hard look at his apathetic sister, then turned to his father. "Make it to-morrow," he said. "This is Satad'y night and I got a date."
"No," Adams said, frowning. "You come up before you go out. It's important."
"All right; I've had all I want to eat," Walter returned. "I got a few minutes. Make it quick."
He followed his father upstairs, and when they were in the room together Adams shut the door, sat down, and began to rub his knees.
"Rheumatism?" the boy inquired, slyly. "That what you want to talk to me about?"
"No." But Adams did not go on; he seemed to be in difficulties for words, and Walter decided to help him.
"Hop ahead and spring it," he said. "Get it off your mind: I'll tell the world _I_ should worry! You aren't goin' to bother ME any, so why bother yourself? Alice hopped home and told you she saw me playin' around with some pretty gay-lookin' berries and you----"
"Alice?" his father said, obviously surprised. "It's nothing about Alice."
"Didn't she tell you----"
"I haven't talked with her all day."
"Oh, I see," Walter said. "She told mother and mother told you."
"No, neither of 'em have told me anything. What was there to tell?"
Walter laughed. "Oh, it's nothin'," he said. "I was just startin' out to buy a girl friend o' mine a rhinestone buckle I lost to her on a bet, this afternoon, and Alice came along with that big Russell fish; and I thought she looked sore. She expects me to like the kind she likes, and I don't like 'em. I thought she'd prob'ly got you all stirred up about it."
"No, no," his father said, peevishly. "I don't know anything about it, and I don't care to know anything about it. I want to talk to you about something important."
Then, as he was again silent, Walter said, "Well, TALK about it; I'm listening."
"It's this," Adams began, heavily. "It's about me going into this glue business. Your mother's told you, hasn't she?"
"She said you were goin' to leave the old place down-town and start a glue factory. That's all I know about it; I got my own affairs to 'tend to."
"Well, this is your affair," his father said, frowning. "You can't stay with Lamb and Company."
Walter looked a little startled. "What you mean, I can't? Why not?"
"You've got to help me," Adams explained slowly; and he frowned more deeply, as if the interview were growing increasingly laborious for him. "It's going to be a big pull to get this business on its feet."
"Yes!" Walter exclaimed with a sharp skepticism. "I should say it was!" He stared at his father incredulously. "Look here; aren't you just a little bit sudden, the way you're goin' about things? You've let mother shove you a little too fast, haven't you? Do you know anything about what it means to set up a new business these days?"
"Yes, I know all about it," Adams said. "About this business, I do."
"How do you?"
"Because I made a long study of it. I'm not afraid of going about it the wrong way; but it's a hard job and you'll have to put in all whatever sense and strength you've got."
Walter began to breathe quickly, and his lips were agitated; then he set them obstinately. "Oh; I will," he said.
"Yes, you will," Adams returned, not noticing that his son's inflection was satiric. "It's going to take every bit of energy in your body, and all the energy I got left in mine, and every cent of the little I've saved, besides something I'll have to raise on this house. I'm going right at it, now I've got to; and you'll have to quit Lamb's by the end of next week."
"Oh, I will?" Walter's voice grew louder, and there was a shrillness in it. "I got to quit Lamb's the end of next week, have I?" He stepped forward, angrily. "Listen!" he said. "I'm not walkin' out o' Lamb's, see? I'm not quittin' down there: I stay with 'em, see?"
Adams looked up at him, astonished. "You'll leave there next Saturday," he said. "I've got to have you."
"You don't anything o' the kind," Walter told him, sharply. "Do you expect to pay me anything?"
"I'd pay you about what you been getting down there."
"Then pay somebody else; _I_ don't know anything about glue. You get somebody else."