.
its final aspect underwent no change. He lived to himself, and his old haunts and his old friends saw nothing of him. Evelyn Langham, whom he had known before she married his friend Marshall, was fortunately absent from town. Her letters to him remained unanswered; the last one he had burned unread. He was sick of the devious crooked paths he had trodden; he might not be just the stuff of which saints are made, but there was the hope in his heart of better things than he had yet known.
At about the time Mr. Shrimplin was attacking his Thanksgiving turkey, North, from his window, watched the leaden clouds that overhung the housetops. From the frozen dirt of the unpaved streets the keen wind whipped up scanty dust clouds, mingling them with sudden flurries of fine snow. Save for the passing of an occasional pedestrian who breasted the gale with lowered head, the Square was deserted. Staring down on it, North drummed idly on the window-pane. What an unspeakable fool he had been, and what a price his folly was costing him! As he stood there, heavy-hearted and bitter in spirit, he saw Marshall Langham crossing the Square in the direction of his office. He watched his friend's wind-driven progress for a moment, then slipped into his overcoat and, snatching up his hat, hurried from the room.
Langham, with Moxlow, his law partner, occupied two handsomely furnished rooms on the first floor, of the one building in Mount Hope that was distinctly an office building, since its sky-scraping five stories were reached by an elevator. Here North found Langham—a man only three or four years older than himself, tall, broad-shouldered, with an oratorical air of distinction and a manner that proclaimed him the leading young lawyer at the local bar.
He greeted North cordially, and the latter observed that his friend's face was unusually flushed, and that beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead, which he frequently wiped with a large linen handkerchief.
"What have you been doing with yourself, Jack?" he demanded, sliding his chair back from the desk at which he was seated. "I haven't had a glimpse of you in days."
"I have been keeping rather quiet."
"What's the matter? Liver out of whack?" Langham smiled complacently.
"Worse than that!" North rejoined moodily.
"That's saying a good deal? What is it, Jack?"
But North was not inclined to lay bare his heart; he doubted if Langham could be made to comprehend any part of his suffering.
"I am getting down to my last dollar, Marsh. I don't know where the money went, but it's gone," he finally said.
Langham nodded.
"You have certainly had your little time, Jack, and it's been a perfectly good little time, too! What are you going to do when you are cleaned out?"
"That's part of the puzzle, Marsh, that's the very hell and all of it."
"Well, you have had your fun—lots of it!" said Langham, swabbing his face.
North noticed the embroidered initial in the corner of the handkerchief.
"Fun! Was it fun?" he demanded with sudden heat.
"You took it for fun. Personally I think it was a pretty fair imitation."
"Yes, I took it for fun, or mistook it; that's the pity of it! I can forgive myself for almost everything but having been a fool!"
"That's always a hard dose to swallow," agreed Langham. He was willing to enter into his friend's mood.
"Have you ever tried to swallow it?" asked North.
"I can't say I have. Some of us haven't any business with a conscience—our blood's too red. I've made up my mind that, while I may be a man of moral impulses I am also a creature of purest accident. It's the same with you, Jack. You are a pretty decent fellow down under the skin; there's still the divine spark in you, though perhaps it doesn't burn bright enough to warm the premises. But it's there, like a shaft of light from a gem, a gem in the rough—though I believe I'm mixing my metaphors."
"Why don't you say a pearl in the mire?"
"But that doesn't really take from your pearlship, though it may dim your luster. No, Jack, the accidents have been to your morals instead of your arms and legs. That's how I explain it in my own case, and it's saved me many a bad quarter of an hour with myself. I know I'd be on crutches if the vicissitudes of which I have been the victim could be given physical expression."
"Marsh," said North soberly, "I am going away."
"You are going to do what, Jack?" demanded the lawyer.
"I am going to leave Mount Hope. I am going West for a bit, and after I am gone I want you to sell the stuff in my rooms for me; have an auction and get rid of every stick of the fool truck!"
"Why, what's wrong? Going away—when?"
"At once, to-morrow—to-night maybe. I don't know quite when, but very soon. I want you to get rid of all my stuff, do you understand? Before long I'll write you my address and you can send me whatever it brings. I expect I'll need the money—"
"Why, you're crazy, man!" cried Langham.
North moved impatiently. He had not come to discuss the merit of his plans.
"On the contrary I am having my first gleam of reason," he said briefly.
"Of course you know best, Jack," acquiesced Langham after a moment's silence.
"You'll do what I ask of you, Marsh?"
"Oh, hang it, yes." He hesitated for an instant and then said 'frankly. "You know I'm rather in your debt; I don't suppose five hundred dollars would square what I have had from you first and last."
"I hope you won't mention it! Whenever it is quite convenient, that will be soon enough."
"Thank you, Jack!" said Langham gratefully. "The fact is the pickings here are pretty small."
Again the lawyer mopped his brow and again North moved impatiently.
"Don't say another word about it, Marsh," he repeated. "McBride has agreed to take the last of my gas bonds off my hands; that will get me away from here."
"How many have you left?" asked Langham curiously.
"Ten," said North.
Langham whistled.
"Do you mean to tell me you are down to that? Why, you told me once you held a hundred!"
"So I did once, but it costs money to be the kind of fool I've been! said North.
"Well, I suppose you are doing the sensible thing in getting out of this. Have you any notion where you are going or what you'll do?"
North shook his head.
"Oh, you'll get into something!" the lawyer encouraged. "When shall you see McBride?"
"This afternoon. Why?"
"I was going to say that I was just there with Atkinson. He and McBride have been in a timber speculation, and Atkinson handed over three thousand dollars in cash to the old man. I suppose he has banked it in some heap of scrap-iron on the premises!" said Langham laughing.
"I think I shall go there now," resolved North. While he was speaking he had moved to the door leading into the hail, and had opened it.
"Hold on, John!" said Langham, detaining him. "Evelyn is home. She came quite unexpectedly to-day; you won't leave town without getting up to the house to see her?"
"I think I shall," replied North hastily. "I much prefer not to say good-by."
"Oh, nonsense!" cried Langham.
"No, Marsh, I don't intend to say good-by to any one!" North quietly turned back into the room.
"I had intended having you up to the house to-night for a blow-out," urged Langham, but North shook his head. "You and Gilmore, Jack; and by the way, this puts me in a nice hole! I have already asked Gilmore, and he's coming. Now, how the devil am