“ A CLOSE SHAVE
The Watermelon climbed the stone wall and paused a moment to view his surroundings. The road wound up the hill from the village nestling at its foot and dipped again out of sight farther on. On all sides were the hills, falling rocky pasture lands, rising to orchards or woods, and now and then a farmhouse. It was summer, glad, mad, riotous summer. The sky was a deep, deep blue, with here and there a drifting, snow-white cloud. The fields were gay with buttercups and daisies, and wild roses nodded shyly at him from the briers along the roadside. ”

“ The Watermelon lighted his cigarette in the cup of his hands and tossed his match away. "If you are trying to walk in the dark," he objected, "trying to get out of your troubles, say, and not standing still in the same old place, you can't look up."
"You have no beauty in your soul," declared Henrietta. "I think the idea is beautiful, seeing a universe."
"When you are down and out, you don't take any pleasure in looking at a universe," said the Watermelon. "A dollar, or even a quarter, will look a darned sight more beautiful."
"I wouldn't like to be poor," said Billy. ”

“ If we took every turn and have come far enough and not too far, this should be the Higgins' house."
"It should be," admitted Bartlett. "But it isn't."
Through the open door came the many noises of the summer night, the incessant hum of insects, the plaintive cry of the whippoorwill, the strident chorus of the frogs in the pond back of the bam. A moth, fluttering around the dingy lamp, fell on the table with scorched wings and Billy tenderly pushed it on a plate and carried it to the door. ”

“ He is willing to work if the work is a part of himself, a development of that clamorous ego that must find peace in the open, in the physical side of existence. If he is born rich, he will become a traveler, a mountain climber, an aviator; if poor, a tramp, and the Watermelon was born poor.
For the last few years his feet had followed his errant will, now here, now there. He was impervious to hardship while he could wander as he wished, indifferent to good clothes when the price was eight hours a day spent in a stuffy office, bent, round-shouldered, hump-backed, over a column of figures. ”

“ In the warm June night, with the youthful, foolish Billy, and the irresponsible Watermelon, the general's latent criminal tendency came uppermost, that tendency in all of us once in a while to do wrong for the sake of the adventure in it, for the excitement and fascination, rather than for any material gain. In the experience of being in another man's house unknown and uninvited by the owner, of listening for the rattle of a wagon turning in at the gate, for the crunch of a foot on the gravel without, there was an exhilaration he had not known for years. ”

“ As the day advanced, the sun crept around the headland until it streamed unchecked upon the Watermelon, sprawled, drunk and warm and dirty in the lee of the rocks. The combined heat of the sun and the poison he had in him, called by courtesy whisky, grew unbearable, and he rose in drunken majesty to find some cooler place. The sun would soon have thrown long shadows on the beach, but the Watermelon could not wait for that. He must get cool at once, and in the waves splashing, gurgling, laughing, breaking at his very feet, he found a suggestion. ”

“ The hum of talk and laughter grew as the crowd grew, good-natured, meaningless chatter. The sight of the Mary Gloucester, steaming gracefully into port, was greeted with a gay flutter of handkerchiefs and straw hats, and Billy and Bartlett, standing where the yacht would dock, were soon the center of the laughing, merry crowd, ready and eager to welcome home the stout widow, her unfortunate chaperon and the two "supplements," as a village wag called the fat Henry and the slim Bertie. ”

“ Sweetbrier and wild roses grew along the stone walls, while gay little flowers and delicate ferns ventured out into the road itself, and with every passing breeze nodded merrily from the ruts of last winter's wood hauling. By the side of the road, like a glaring anachronism, a variety theater in Paradise, a vacuum cleaner among the ferns and daisies, stood a huge red touring car with shining brass work and raised top. No one was anywhere in sight and the Watermelon climbed into the tonneau and leaned comfortably back in the roomy depths. ”

“ The Watermelon flushed hotly, but she was not looking, and when he spoke he spoke carelessly enough. "You would get used to it," said he. "You can get used to anything. Father used to say that the idea of hell for all eternity was an absurdity—you were sure to get used to it and then it wouldn't count any more as a punishment."
"I suppose that's so," agreed Billy. "But how do you know? You weren't ever a tramp, were you, Jerry?"
"A tramp, kid, is the only man in America to-day, besides the millionaire, who is his own master. ”

“ The Watermelon leaped to the window. The barn, which, fortunately, was unlike Maine barns, stood some little way from the house instead of being attached to it. With a mighty burst of flames the roof caught from the sides, which had been slowly smoldering. Every moment the flames mounted higher and higher, fanned by a bit of a wind that had arisen when the sun went down. The place was filled with the summer hay, and even as the Watermelon took in the scene, he knew that there was no hope to do more than to save the live stock, if they could do that. ”

“ Bartlett turned to the Watermelon, genially. "I judge you are planning to take a few days' jaunt somewhere."
"I was thinking of it," acknowledged the Watermelon, with truth, lounging gracefully in the doorway.
Bartlett laughed. "We are crazy, all of us," said he and waved the suggestion aside as a whimsical fancy best forgotten.
"Oh, Daddy, please," teased Billy.
"But, Billy, child, the others don't want to do it, the general or Batchelor."
"I want to," said Henrietta, "and so does the general. Father, wouldn't you like to take a trip in the car somewhere for a week or two?" ”

“ He felt that there might be no limit to his daring, he might go as far as to rob an apple orchard and make no attempt to repay the owner, that was, if the apples were ripe. Henrietta's own spirits were rising. One never realized what liberty was until one threw aside conventionality—not honor, but conventionality, the silly, foolish laws of senseless ages. Billy as usual laughed at every remark, while the general, the tramp and the financier grew fairly brilliant beneath the spur of two pretty women's laughing eyes. ”

“ Billy had never suffered, had never felt the foundations of her world falling around her in ruins, had never cried aloud in anguish, "How long, oh Lord, how long?" She answered from her inexperience, from the faith that had never been tested, "Of course there is a God. Every one knows it, every one prays. Why, if your father was a minister, I should think you would know that there is a God." ”

“ There was no one in sight as they made their way cautiously to the edge of the lake. The trees grew nearly down to the narrow, pebbly beach and were reflected in the quiet depths of the water. The little brook, tumbling over its miniature waterfall, with a ripple and splash, was the only sound that broke the all-pervading silence. Nothing stirred in the underbrush, neither man nor beast, and James and Mike were about to slip away as quietly as they came when a stick snapped behind them sharply and Mike wheeled.
A man was peering at them eagerly over the tops of a few bushes. ”

“ The Watermelon frowned. "See here, I don't drink, necessarily. I'm not a brand to be plucked from the burning, a sheep strayed from the fold. The whisky bottle wasn't my undoing and didn't make me take to the highway. I'm not fallen. I was always down, I guess. I hate work; I hate worry and trouble, slaving like a Swede all day for just enough money to be an everlasting cheap guy. I like leisure and time to develop my own soul." He waved his hand in airy imitation of James.
"That's all right," said Bartlett. "But get drunk. If she can stand you soused, she can stand you sober. ”

“ Billy bent her head and rubbed her cheek against the hand on her shoulder with a half laugh and a half sob.
With the first sight of the smoke on the horizon, heralding the approach of the principal event of the day, the arrival of the evening mail, a crowd had begun to gather, the usual motley crowd of a summer resort on the coast. Townspeople hung indifferently on the outskirts, while the summer visitors, in dainty dresses and baggy trousers, sun-burnt, jovial, indefatigable, pressed to the front. ”

“ Martin was not a godly man.
"Maybe not," agreed the Watermelon. "But when a man's down, every one's down on him. Nothing father did went right. Ma died and the home broke up—I don't know what's become of all the others—working, I suppose, day after day, like slaves in a galley, you know. I tried it, and every night I drank to drown the damnable monotony and stupidity of it all. So, you see what I am, a bum—a tramp."
"And yourself, my love, my Jerry."
Billy held out her hands and he caught them and held them tightly in both his own for a moment, then dropping them, turned away with half a sob. ”

“ You don't need clothes. The lighter you travel, the better. You can put up anywhere you happen to be for the night, and, if you get lost it does not matter, merely adds to the fun and affords an adventure."
"It sounds alluring," said Henrietta. "Suppose we all go, just as we are!"
"We could," cried Billy. "Why, Dad, we could do it easily. I have that linen dress I wore yesterday, and my brush and comb and things, and you have yours."
"But the general and Henrietta," objected Bartlett. "They only ran up here for the day, my dear. They may not have anything." ”

“ Billy laughed.
"Billy would laugh at her funeral," said Bartlett coldly.
"We haven't anything to cry about," said the Watermelon, frankly unconcerned. "It's for the man who owns the house to do the crying."
"How did we get here?" demanded the general, as Alphonse went to get the blue book, for the general could no longer be gainsaid in his desire for his book. "Is this where the Higgins' home should be?"
"Why, no, father," said Henrietta, "or it would be here." ”

“ It was a touring car, big and blue. An elderly gentleman, fat, serious, important, was at the wheel. Beside him sat a lady, and a chauffeur languished in the tonneau.
"Hello, Thomas," called the old gentleman with the affability of a performing elephant, addressing the Watermelon by the name of his car, as is the custom of the road.
"Hello, William," answered the Watermelon, wondering why they called him Thomas.
The old gentleman flushed angrily and the lady laughed, a delightful laugh of girlish amusement. The Watermelon smiled.
"We are a Packard," explained the old gentleman stiffly. ”

“ You men have nothing but a bank-book for a heart. It's so lovely here, so quiet. Don't you feel it? With the shadows creeping across the pasture? I was young and beautiful—"
"And a princess."
"No, a goose maid. My hair was brown and thick and hung over each shoulder in two long braids. I was bare-headed, with sleeves rolled to the elbows of my shapely arms—"
"You would have got malaria," said Bartlett. "It's very damp here. I think there must be a pond over there in the woods. You can hear the frogs."
"Oh, yes," agreed Henrietta. ”

“ Following step by step in the well-worn, beaten path, where no man dares step aside lest he be jeered at, where none dares fall, lest he be pushed from the road and another take his place, where all think alike, look alike, act alike, spending one's days in an office, bent over a littered, dusty, shabby desk, one's nights at some cheap play-house, seeking to find an outlet for the battered nerves, for the ceaseless strain of the day by stupefying the senses with some garish parody of life, is not living to a vagabond. ”

“ She nodded toward the yacht, steaming majestically around the headland, pennons gaily waving and the bright awning a splash of color in the afterglow.
"The Mary Gloucester," chuckled Bartlett. "That woman hasn't the sense of her ugly little poodle dog."
"I know," said Billy, "that is why I have always been so afraid of her."
"Why afraid of her?"
"For a mother," explained Billy unfortunately, but characteristically saying the wrong thing.
Bartlett flushed. "You just admitted that she was a fool. Do you think I would marry that kind of a woman?"
"Men always do," said Billy. ”

“ The frogs had begun to croak and once in a while a whippoorwill called from the woods. In an adjoining hay-field, hurrying to get in the last load before dark, the Watermelon saw the farmer. A pair of sorry looking nags drooped drearily, attached to the cart with its high, shaky load of new-mown hay.
"I'm going to speak to him myself," said the Watermelon, stopping. "It will save time. You wait here. I won't be long."
"Give me the food," said Billy. "I will take it to the others. Poor things, they must be starving."
"I won't be long," objected the Watermelon. "You can't carry it alone." ”

“ So might the Parkers' shifty-eyed stable-boy be wooing the slatternly maid-servant in some secluded place behind the barn.
Henrietta straightened quickly and blushing crimson after the manner of the maid-servant, raised her hands to her hair so that one side of her coiffure might not appear unnecessarily flattened before the sharp eyes of the youthful Billy.
"Aren't we silly?" said she, glancing at Bartlett with the same expression with which the maid-servant would have glanced at the stable-boy.
"Why silly?" demanded Bartlett. "We love each other, don't we? ”

“ A wise manipulation of the financial end of a difficulty will more often save you than not. There is no graft in paying for a night's lodging."
"Under the present circumstances, paying for a night's lodging is graft," declared the general.
"It's graft, then, or prison," snapped Bartlett.
"Prison," said the general heroically.
"Prison is foolish," said Billy, "when one has a motor-car and can get away."
"Besides," said Bartlett, "graft is not dishonest for the man who gives the bribe." ”