Page:Weird Tales volume 02 number 03.djvu/76

Rh island. I'm dipping in real estate, and just now am on the lookout for a Long Island demesne for a weary plutocrat. Know of anything?"

Tierney's eyes narrowed as if he were seeing things far away. Then he laid a hand on my shoulder. "In all probability, I've the very place you're looking for. I've decided to sell Ravensnest—the old Tierney home."

It seemed to me that I was on the trail of a pretty commission and my attention was entirely unforced, as Tierney described his property on the North Shore of Long Island—over a hundred acres of gently rolling land, a thirty room dwelling, a small lake, woodlands, et cetera.

"There have been a lot of places in that neighborhood broken into recently," said Tierney, "and I've been intending to go out and look things over. Suppose we drive out next Friday and slay two birds with a single pebble?"

It sounded good to me, so I accepted the offer with alacrity.

"There's no use in going about this thing half primed!" exclaimed Bennett, who appeared to me to be laboring under excitement, unwarranted by the facts in the case. "You admit, old chap," he continued, "that your safety deposit box isn't jammed with securities, while I freely confess that I'm utterly weary of this town. Find me a buyer for Ravensnest, and we'll go to South America and buy a ranch! What do you say?"

His enthusiasm infected me. New York is crammed with lawyers and the adventure beckoned. Moreover, I had finally come to the conclusion that Edith Noland cared for me only as a passing acquaintance. I had little to lose, much to gain, and Bennett's dark persuasive eyes were on me, I considered for the space of a moment.

"Done!" I shouted. "I'm with you."

"Good for you!" cried Bennett, extending his hand to bind the bargain.

"I'll not fail you," I returned seriously. "Old Grigsly will probably jump at the chance to get your place, but if he doesn't, Long Island real estate is in demand and there'll be another purchaser."

"You'll not regret your bargain. Will Scranton was in last week, chockfull of the opportunities down there. He's made a fortune in Paraguay, you know."

My ardor had waned somewhat when we parted a little later. Instead of going to my office, I took a northbound Madison Avenue car to the home of the girl I had decided never again to bother with my presence. Things were different now, and soon thousands of miles would stretch between us.

Edith Noland was in and greeted me in a heart-warming manner. Her big eyes stared reproachfully into mine as she said: "You've neglected me frightfully of late, Bobby McDonald."

"I thought you never wanted to see me again," I foundered hopelessly.

Her face, which, though sweet as a rose, was without the imperial pulchritude of the girl whose portrait Bennett had whisked from his desk, clouded instantly.

"I always want to see you," she whispered softly.

This was too much for my Scotch-Irish blood, and a moment later she was in my arms and I was babbling sentiment in her ear. Evidently, Edith thought I deserved a lecture, for she was soon telling me that I was very foolish to conclude that she cared anything for a person just because she went about with him some.

"And," she concluded, "much of the world's unhappiness is caused by the unjust suspicions and silly pride of folks. False judgments and egotism! Now, look at Bennett Tierney, deliberately making himself miserable."

What Edith meant by her remark about Bennett, I knew not, but the mere mention of his name paralyzed my fervor. Here was a maddening mix-up! Edith was dearer to me than the world, yet my hands were tied. Small wonder that when I left here I was fuming because I had abandoned a sure heaven for Bennett's chimera.

HOUGH the time we set for our rendezvous was two o'clock, it was almost four when Bennett hurried into my office. To my suggestion that we postpone the trip until we could make an earlier start, he retorted grimly that there was no time like the present.

We made haste to get away, but as we were crossing Blackwell's Island Bridge, Bennett remarked apprehensively:

"I don't like the feel of the air. Looks as if we're in for a ducking."

A glance at the shrouded heavens convinced me that he was probably weatherwise, but the matter was not to remain long in doubt. We had scarcely passed Kew Gardens when the storm was upon us. For several moments we whizzed along while flash followed flash and rumble succeeded rumble.

"There's no use in being reckless," said Bennett, after a deafening clap. "There's a road-house near here with something of a reputation for its cuisine. We'll turn in there, eat a leisurely dinner and see Ravensnest afterward. The storm's too thorough-going to last long."

The meal at the small hostelry was better than I had anticipated, but even the smothered duck failed to elicit a word of commendation from Tierney, who had grown unaccountably gloomy. Though thinner and more distinguished looking than the man I had known at Harvard, he had not changed much physically. Yet I became convinced that, in some subtle way, not easily discerned or diagnosed, he was greatly altered. He seemed more serious, more sensitive, and, paradoxical as it may sound, more master of himself.

We had reached the cheese and coffee stage of our repast and the storm had celebrated its grand finale, when I, thinking of Edith Noland's sentient face, soft little hands, and the snatched kiss, ventured a remark which upset Bennett's composure.

"Bennett," I began sententiously, "I've seen quite a bit of life, and although I'll concede that but few marriages lead to unadulterated bliss, I've concluded that celibacy is a forlorn mistake. You ought to marry. Let's reconsider our South American project."

He put down his demi tasse with such haste that some of the coffee slopped over into the saucer.

"No!" he returned savagely, "and don't talk marriage to me either."

With oxen-headed stupidity, I was about to make some jovial retort, asking if he'd been stung or something of that sort, when the hurt look in Tierney's eyes arrested me. So I merely said that as the storm's hysterics seemed to be passed, we might as well conclude our journey.

Tierney leaned toward me, one arm flung out, a smile twisting his appealing face. "We'll start in a few minutes. As for my ever marrying—well, the fact is, I'm married already, and we've shaken hands on the ranch proposition."

With the dignity which was a part of him, he rose and led the way to the lounging-room. There we puffed our cigars for a time in silence until I again suggested our getting under way.

He looked at me quizzically as he replied: "I've lived most of my life at Ravensnest and I rather hate to think of parting with it. Going there with you tonight is bound to rouse from their perches a horde of recollections and make me as blue as Egypt's sky."

I knew how he felt and only said that I realized the hold such places make on one's affections, but that Ravensnest must be worth a fortune, tritely adding, probably from force of habit, that the