Meredith Nicholson

“ Heroes are always slim. The successful heroes of fiction have to be qualified for wild rides by night, the swimming of moats and other like achievements that delighted McGillicuddy's soul. He had observed, not without bitterness, that Gibson, Flagg, Christy, Underwood and other popular illustrators present only slim heroes, with a single firm chin. Men of his own figure when translated into fiction were turned over to the tender mercies of inferior artists to be caricatured. McGillicuddy meant to change all this. ”

“ They were not more than ten feet from McGillicuddy, and peering out, he saw them plainly. Being a fair-minded man, it seemed unjust to allow the sentry to be scolded for firing unnecessarily. He stepped boldly out upon the wall and walked toward the group of debaters. The star-filled southern sky made a fitting background for McGillicuddy in his monkish robe. The ghost of Hamlet's father patrolling the bleak ramparts of Elsinore was not a more august apparition. ”

“ He folded the trousers neatly, hung them over a chair and lighted a cigar. Jimmie was baffled. For McGillicuddy never drank; he had seen him lay a small, well-kept fat hand rejectingly upon his glass when the butler offered wine at dinner. Nor did it seem possible that the shrewd, substantial dry-goods merchant had suddenly lost his senses.
“Forget it, Jimmie; forget all about it, and by this time to-morrow it will all be over! It will have to be,” he added, crossing to his dressing-table and inspecting a timetable, “for I leave on the four-ten ferry.” ”

“ You going to let a measly cow ruin your life? Going to lose your sweetheart because a cow gives your dad the willies? Cheer up, son; it isn't like a Hanley to be knocked out by a little thing like that. Why don't you set fire to the barn and make a burnt offering of that cow? Why don't you go over to Donald with a gun and tell him the cow's got to go or you'll plug him full of lead?”
Illustration: “Go to bed end get some sleep, son. Leave this to me. I'll take charge of the whole shooting match.”
The new McGillicuddy was speaking. ”

“ Susan is now on board the Northern Pine, headed for Duluth, the zenith city of the unsalt seas.'
“My God!” cried Jimmie, “you stole the cow!” He rose and began pacing the floor with long strides. “Where,” he demanded, pausing menacingly beside the placid McGillicuddy, “—where do you think this leaves me with Dorothy? Don't you see what you've done—oh, my God!”
“Dorothy,” continued McGillicuddy pleasantly, “is one of the nicest girls I ever met, and she's as sensible as she is nice. ”

“ He would show the world that a man of forty, weighing two hundred and thirty-two pounds, could and would prove his mettle in every sort of adventure. When the trumpets called, he would not be snoring in an inn like a corpulent Falstaff but would take horse and ride where the battle waged hottest. ”

“ His arm was numb from much pulling at the rope, and his hand burnt as though he had been holding a hot poker. But bodily suffering was nothing when weighed against the joy of having actually entered upon an adventure. ”

“ Mrs. Hanley also had lost her worn and troubled air; and when Jimmie joined them at the breakfast table, he too seemed on better terms with the world. “Well, I got some sleep last night for the first time in a week,” said Hanley, as he sugared his strawberries. ”That beast tuned up once, but I hadn't got started cussing good and hard before she shut up. ”

“ Hanley caught him up. “That beast is going to be removed—I tell you that! You, a guest in my house—obliged to get up in the dead of night and go out and choke a neighbor's bawling cow! It's too much, I tell you; it's the last straw that's going to break that cow's back.”
“Just be patient for a moment, Sam. It gives me pleasure to tell you that Susan has gone—the Donalds haven't got any cow any more!”
“No cow!”
“Susan,” continued McGillicuddy, placidly buttering a muffin, “needed a change of air. It's too damp on an island for cows. Goats are all right on islands, but not cows. ”

“ Jimmie's face brightened. Mrs. Hanley seemed relieved as she poured the coffee.
“No sugar,” said McGillicuddy, “and only a spoonful of cream, please. About the cow, Sam: I've changed my mind about your proper course in the matter. I'd go over and give Donald a good jolly this morning. Throw a good scare into him about the foot-and-mouth disease and tell him a milk diet is the worst thing possible for a man with his trouble. I've heard you talk at directors' meetings, and you're a good persuader, Sam.” ”

“ Mary's a wreck from the row it's caused, and they've got the whole island laughing about it—laughing at us, Mac—that's the beautiful part of it. A cow on an island is a fool notion, anyhow. Why don't they buy their milk the way we do and always have done? This idea o' bringing a whole herd o' cattle up here just because old man Donald's got a weak stomach and has to have milk! Bah!” Hanley shook himself in his rage and flung his cigar toward the Arctic Circle.
The situation was difficult, McGillicuddy admitted ”

“ I hope you weren't troubled, Mac?”
“Not in the least,” said McGillicuddy, who, having slept for three hours and taken his accustomed shower, seemed even rosier than usual.
“I've got a good mind,” said Hanley, “to take your advice and go over and see Donald this morning. Think maybe a gentle suggestion that he keep his cow back in the woods somewhere might appeal to him. He's really a pretty decent sort of chap, and I suppose stomach trouble does make a man peevish.” ”

“ She's merely traveling a little—the condition of her throat made it necessary; that's all.”
His eyes opened and shut while he waited for her to grasp the idea that Susan no longer inhabited the island. Then she laughed—the merriest of laughs. And McGillicuddy so far forgot his rôle as to smile, as a child smiles in its sleep. She began to ask questions, and he confided to her all that happened after they parted in the barn lot. And Jimmie, sitting pigeon-toed on the veranda, heard Dorothy's laughter—heard also faintly McGillicuddy's gurgles. He did not understand McGillicuddy ”

“ It was darker in the tree-lined road that ran behind the cottages than in the Donald's yard, but Susan seemed not in the least dismayed. Recent rains had left the road in a slippery state, and occasionally Susan's hoofs splashed mud upon her captor.
Illustration: Another dog appeared out of nowhere, viciously barking and snapping at McGillicuddy's legs. “Don't be afraid,” commanded McGillicuddy. “I—”
The dogs that had started from the barn-lot wearied in time, but relays of dogs seemed to have been planted along the road merely to stimulate Susan's flight. ”

“ Here's a hundred dollars conscience-money I wish you'd send to the Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Duluth. You see, the rate on blooded cows like Susan is high, and somebody's got to pay the freight! ”

“ I suppose you are a guest of the Hanleys, and if you are, you may say to them for me—”
“Now, Miss Donald,” began McGillicuddy in his most benevolent tone, “there is not the slightest occasion for hard feeling. The affair is most unfortunate, of course; but as an old friend of the Hanleys I assure you they have no wish to be ugly. But I confess that they have been—er—slightly annoyed. I came out in the hope of finding some way of relieving the—er—cow. ”