THE HIGH HAND.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXIX, Issue 10776, 26 May 1911, Page 6

THE HIGH HAND.

(By Jacques Futielle.)

XVI. "Woman," says the dictionary, "is an adult human female." What a libel it is, to be sure! We know it's a libel—you and I and Jim Warren —we who have fallen under the subtle spell of woman's witchery; We who have basked in the lure of her haunting smile; we who have gazed upon the glory of her gold-burned hair; we who have been stricken sheer dumb by the mystery and coquetry of her eves; we who have dreamed rose-dreams and eaten to repletion of the lotus —we know that's all Hocus-pocus. "An adult human female!"! Forsooth! So is the moon a piece of green cheese and the sun a pennyworth of sulphur matches — and the star-pierced sky a tin dipper turned topsy-turvey over all. Jim Warren meditated gently upon these things at the end of his day of awakening. He had expected a sordid day, a day of political trafficking. Instead it had been a day filled to bursting with the charm of Her; a day ot sensuous delight to be viewed through half-veiled eyes; a day of gay chatter and lazy content, unmarred by one thought beyond the fleeting present. Somewhere out in the mercenary world men toiled and haggled and died and were born again; somewhere out there great games were being played for great stakes; but here was lie in this big, rambling country house, perched on a crag overlooking the thunderous sea. Everything else was very far away, indistinct, immaterial — for She was here. For that one day he chose not to remember that he was a maker of ploughs and she one of a class apart, a daughter of millions, entrenched behind those barriers that convention says must not be broken down by the man who works with his hands. She belonged to Lewis, yes; but lie didn't permit that thought to disturb the serenity of that wonderful day. They had breakfasted: alone, Edna and Jim Warren. She had come to him there in the sun-drenched breakfast room, rosy as the dawn, vibrant with life, a smile in her eyes. "Isn't it a glorious view?" She swept a hand toward the windows. Far below the surf crashed against the jagged breast of the rocks; on the horizon white sails fluttered in the brilliant January sunshine. ' "Father and I come here every week-end, rain or shine, snow or sleet. This is our part of the week. I get very tired: of the city, but here—l love this place." She extended her arms in a gesture all-envelop-ing. "In summer, of course, we live here."

"I can imagine you would love it," sighed Jim Warren. She sat down and babbled of many things—of flower gardens she planned; of curling, purple waters on the beach; of gaunt grey stones in the hills; of birds and trailing vines, _ and pictures and music—and automobiles. He said little. He was content to listen to. the rhythm of lier voice, to watch the play of expression on her face, to study the color of her eyes. He wondered whatcolor they were. They seemed all colors.

After breakfast he had smoked a while, then wandered idly about the house. Every nook and corner of it reflected the magic of her touch. He found it in the sturdy comfort of the great living room, in the daintiness of the sun-bathed conservatory, in the simplicity of the music room. The town house was merely a show place for furniture and art," and rare and curious trifles; here was a home. There was a cheerful litter of books and ribbons and feminine knick-knacks; and on a spindle-legged worktable was an embroidery ring with a half-worked flower in the centre. Jim Warren, ventured to pick it up and look at it. He didn't remember when he had last seen one.

Pending that time when his host should choose to appear, Jim Warren went to his room for his heavy_ coat, intending to go for a stroll. Quite involuntarily, as he passed along the hall, he glanced through a half-open door and saw —a slipper, turned upside down on the floor. , It startled him. He averted his eyes, as though he had gazed' upon forbidden, things. When he came downstairs again he heard Edna in the music room. She was playing very softly and singing something—he didn't know what. He peered in. She recognised his presence by a sidelong glance and a little smile, then went on to the end of her song. "Isn't it charming?" she referred to the song. "It is." He referred to the voice "It should be sung more brilliantly, of course," she explained, "but I h be brilliant when papa's asleep.' She laughed a little. It makes him fussy. Jim .Warren didn't go for his stroll after all. He dropped the heavy coat across a chair and sat down. "Please go on," he requested. • "What shall I sing? What is your favorite?" "I have no favorite." Wrapped, in the ineffable charm of young womanhood, at times oblivious of his presence, she sat at the piano for a long time playing, occasionally singing, always softly. It fitted in with Jim Warren's mood. There had been so much of. clangor and' tumult in his life! He loved to watch the coruscations of 'light in her hair, the grace and mastery of her touch, the dreaminess in her eyes. She seemed very far away. Suddenly she turned around. "Do you know, I can't get over the impression that you and I met somewhere before that'day in the bank, she exclaimed impulsively. "I had seen your picture, of course, but even before that— —" . "I had never seen your picture, and I had the same impression." "Odd,' isn't it?" There were thoughtful little crinkles about her eyes. "Have you lived long in Warburton?"

"All my life." , "I hardly think it could have been there, because I don't remember that I was ever there but once.; that was when I was a little girl. I remember that very distinctly." The perplexity passed from her face; she smiled at some recollection. "Father and I went through an enormius factory or foundry, or something of the sort, while we were there. He had gone out to see Mr Chase, the manager, on business and I insisted on seeing the shops where the men were at work. It was wonderful!" - .

In that instant Jim Warren knew her. "The Atlas Plough Works!" he said. "I am —or rather I was until I resigned a short while ago—superintendent there." ,

•'Superintendent?" she repeated thoughtfully. "Perhaps that's where I saw youf" He chose to remain silent; he wanted her to remember him. "That was nine or ten years ago; if you were superintendent then you must have been a very young superintendent."

"I have been superintendent only for three or four years." He was smiling, waiting. After a moment she shook her head. "That was one of the wonder days of my life," she ran on. "It was ill so hot and noisy and clanky. It seemed incredible to me that men could work in such a place. In the foundry, I remember, they moved about in the murk like demons, I thought. There was a spouting and spatter of iron so hot that it ran like water. They took it in ladles and poured it into boxes full of sand." "Moulds," Jim Warren told her. "I could feel the heat on my face all the way across the room, yet they didn't seem to mind. I am sure at some time Dante must have visited ,i foundry!" She was gazing at him now with those wonder eyes he remembered so well—how had he forgotten! "After that we went into the hammer-room — trip-hammers, don't they call them?— where they were making ploughs. And there wrr n furnaces too."

She paused. Jim AVarren's sky-blue eyes were fixed upon her face. Finally be took up the thread of the narrative :

"And you and your father and Mr Chase stopped near one of the hammers and looked 011 while the ham-mer-man worked —and finally Mr Chase placed his watch on tile anvil and the hammer-man smashed the crystal. Then you placed your watch 011 the anvil and that crystal was only cracked! And when you were going awav you turned back at the door and smiled at the hammer-man—didn't you " Charming bewilderment was depicted on her face; she was struggling to remember. Her hand involuntarily

touched the watch on her bosom —the same watch.

"Then—then you must have been there?" she asked him quickly. "I was"—Jim Warren was smiling—"l was the hammer man." Suddenly Edna remembered. It was something in the whimsical sky-blue eyes of him that bridged that chasm of years. She didn't seem to be able to reconcile things all at once. The hammer-man, with arms bared to the shoulders, grimed, sinewy—was this man the same?—this rather well-dressed, cleancut, smiling individual who was siting opposite her?" "It leaves me quite—quite breathless," she faltered, at last, with a queer little laugh. "I can hardly make myself believe that —that we " "I understand."

Now that she remembered, Jim Warren wondered if it would make any difference. He knew grimly that it was not meet that they should fraternise on a common level. The color surged into her cheeks. Why ? He asked that question many times. XVII.

It was on the morning following that day of rose-dreams that Dwight Tillingliast bared his hypocritical soul to Jim Warren; and an unsavory spectacle it was. Psychologically the exhibition was interesting, politically it might be useful ; so, in furtherance of the big idea and despite an unholy inclination to take the honorable- speaker by his august windpipe and throttle him, Jim Warren listened attentively. Smug and lofty and unutterably pompous Tillingliast was typical- of a class that, having all else, seeks'political preferment. With wealth at his command, coupled with an unbounded egotism and the support of Francis Everard • Lewis, he couldn't see why he shouldn't have anything lie wanted. In fact, he didn't mind confiding in Mr Warren to the extent of saying he was going to be the next governor —and, by the way, that Was one of the things they must distiuss. It didn't happen that Mr Warren was committed to any other man? No; Mr Warren, was not;

"Ah!" It was as if a vast wind were blowing in a cavern. "Could I, in that event, count upon your support?" ■ "It all depends," Jim Warren told him.

"It all depends?" Tillinghast echoed. as any man I know,' except myself," said: Jim Warren:'"but—" "Except yourself?" * Tillingliast seemed a bit aghast at the suggestion. His fat, shallow - eyes were reassured at the grin on Jim Warren's face. "Ah! I see! A joke! Ha-ha!" "Yes, a joke—ha-ha!" "Very good." Tillingliast paused ponderously ere he voiced the next question. "You—er—and l Mr Lewis had some sort of an interview the other night, I believe?" Jim Warren nodded.

"I'm glad to see that you are friends again." Tillinghast rubbed his pudgy hands together. "Possibly something was said about a —a vacant place on the Committee on Public Structures?" -

"I believe the matter was mentioned, yes."

"Well—er—that vacant place—er "I think, perhaps, I can say what you want to say, Mr Tillinghast. You'll give me the vacant place on that committee if I support you in your fight for governor—is that it?" Tillinghast seemed astonished at the ease and directness with which the proposition had been put. "Precisely." He beamed. "And if we agree to terms, then what?" Jim Warren wanted to know. The honorable speaker arose and wandered aimlessly about the library for a time, pausing now and then to shoot a curious glance at Jim Warren. This red-headed man made him feel uncomfortable; there was a direct, cold-blood-ed manner about him.that he didn't altogether like. Jim Warren sat smoking, gazing at the floor. "I've made no secret among my candidacy for governor, Mr Warren," he said at last. "Now I have no fears for Mr Lewis' end of the state —your end —but I am a little afraid of the upper end of the state. Mr Lewis and I have agreed upon a plan that will insure all the state to me. The. fight will have ,to be made in the Committee on Public Structures."

"Yes?" Jim Warren lifted his gaze inquiringly. "Mr Lewis and'l think—in fact, we know," lie amended —"that the way to pull the upper partjuf the state solidly is to give those people up there what they want. Now there has been some clamor up there for recreation piers, a new state school and libraries, and what-not. The present governor is opposed to the expenditure of the money necessary for all these things." "It would run into_ millions —wouldn't it?" asked Jim Warren.

"It would, yes," Tillinghast agreed complacently. "If bills should be introduced to this end—that is, giving them all they want and more —and I, as speaker, stood back of them and made a fight for them —do you see I would be their champion? I would be the man thev want.

"And.it would only cost the state a few million dollars?" Jim Warren put in. He glanced up quite casually into Tillinghast's fat face. "In other words, the state would pay for the privilege of electing you governor?" Tillinghast didn't like the way he put it. What a coarse, tactless person, to be sure!

"You don't understand, Mr Warren," he went on to explain. "If any bill was passed the governor would veto it; and, 'in the first place, it couldn't be passed. Certainly we couldn't pass it over the governor's veto,' but the moral effect would be the same."

Slowly it dawned upon Jim Warren. "Oh!" he said. "It's only a grandstand play." Tillinghast grunted. 'Why did this man insist on calling everything by its first name? "As a matter of fact, I don't care ahang whether those people up there get their recreation piers and schools : and libraries or not," the speaker went on; "but the bill would precipitate a big fight and, whatever else came of it, it would strengthen me in that end of the state." -

"And why," asked the maker of ploughs quietly—"why does Lewis choose me for this committee ?" "Because you are a-fighter, Mr Warren." The speaker beamed -upon him fatly. "Because you have suddenly become one of the influential men of the state. With you on my side—don't you see the possibilities?" , Tillinghast's hand lay hot and moist on his shoulder; Jim Warren wriggled out from under it and went to the window. His sinewy fingers were clenched.

"You are planning to hand them a gold brick up there and I am to he the middleman?" he asked slowly. "Not at all!"—suavely. "Fm going ■£o try to give them something they want. If I don't succeed it isn't my fault. You are the man to make the fight. I think so well of you—Lewis and I both think so well of you—that not only are we—am I —willing to 'make you a member of that committee but we'd be glad to make you chairman." Chairman! The word sent a thrill through the sturdy figure of Jim Warr ren. Chairman! The big idea was coming through! . : "And what else do I get?" Jim .Warr rcn queried quietly. "What else? I don't understand." Jim Warren turlied upon him suddenly.

"Tillinghast, I know your situation precisely," he said tersely. "Lewis was absolute dictator of his end of the state. When I beat him 1 ripped his following wide open. That following is mine now. He still handles the money-bag and his influence in the legislature is no less than it was; but among the voters in my end of the state he has lost cn.ste. Now you figure that if you have Lewis on your side, as you have, and can get me oil your side, you will gain all that Lewis has lost and more. Isn't that so?"

The honorable speaker hemmed and hawed about it.

"It is." Jim Warren answered his own question. "In other words, with both of us on your side, that end of the state is certain to go for Tillinghast. I am absolutely necessary to you if you carry that end of the state; it is necessary to placate ine with this committee job—and all I have to do is to further your interests in the other end of the state with this —this gold brick. Now I'm asking you what else I am to get out of it? I mean, of course, in addition to the place 011 the Committee on Public Structures."

Tillinghast gasped and sat down heavily. He was overwhelmed with a sense of impending disaster. Something was going to drop in a minute. This

red-headed whirlwind was the person to drop it. Why hadn't, he let Lewis deal with him P

"I had assumed that a place on one important committee would satisfy a first-year man, who rarely gets on any committee of consequence," he argued. "I am certain that I am violating every precedent by making' you chairman of that committee. Now you want more!"

Jim Warren stared at him reflectively. "I happen to know there's still a vacant place on Railroads," he went on. "If I could get that too—— The honorable speaker v moaned a little and perspiration broke out on his brow. v. - '■

"It's unheard of!" he expostulated. "I'd antagonise men whom I couldn't afford to antagonise. I'd— —" ' Suddenly that illuminating grin of Jim Warren's broke forth and shone like a beacon, of hope. Tillinghast drew a long breath of relief. : "I tell you what I'll do, Tillinghast," Jim Warren suggested: "I'll compromise with you: You make me chairman of Public Structures and give me a place on Railroads—or I won't accept any place on any committee." Here was confusion and more of it. Tillinghast edged away a little from the calloused hands of him. The man was insane!

"In-other words, give me all I want or nothing!" Jim Warren continued naively. "But I don't see =" Tillinghast be. gan helplessly. "All or nothing," Jim Warren repeated. His mouth had grown hard again. "You won't have to urge me to make your fight for recreation piers and the rest of it. I'll make a fight and put fireworks in it. Whether you believe in 'em or not, I do. I believe in a state giving its citizens all it can afford and more. All or nothing! he concluded abruptly. The honorable speaker was a little pale but thoroughly tame when the new chairman of the Committee on Public Structures and the new member.of the Committee on Railroads went out of the room whistlings (To be continued.)