Bartley

“ From Carter's expression as he gazed at the broken place in the bank, I could tell he believed the same. Only Patton seemed too dazed to comprehend what it might mean.
And then as our glances met, Bartley, for one of the few times in his life, uttered an oath and started to run toward the library. As the rest of us stood, hesitatingly, Bartley turned—turned to cry back at us in a voice that shook a little:
“For God's sake, hurry! We may be just in time to prevent another murder, and this time the most horrible one of all.” ”

“ This free, joking way of Bartley’s was one of the things that made him popular; he passed the time of day, and would give and take right along, as his admirers expressed it from the first, in a community where his smartness had that honor which gives us more smart men to the square mile than any other country in the world. ”

“ Good morrow, Bartley Fallon; good morrow, Mrs. Fallon. Well, Bartley, you’ll find no cause for complaining to-day; they are all saying it was a good fair.
Bartley: (Raising his voice.) It was not a good fair, Mrs. Tarpey. It was a scattered sort of a fair. If we didn’t expect more, we got less. That’s the way with me always; whatever I have to sell goes down and whatever I have to buy goes up. If there’s ever any misfortune coming to this world, it’s on myself it pitches, like a flock of crows on seed potatoes. ”

“ Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again. Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders. “Just something, Bartley. I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness. I must see you. I must know about you. The sight of you, Bartley, to see you living and happy and successful—can I never make you understand what that means to me?” She pressed his shoulders gently. “You see, loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different. ”

“ And my ole gray pack-hoss, Filaree,
The world ain't got no rope on me:
Git along, cayuse, git along!
Bartley watched him as he crossed the railroad tracks and turned down a side street.
[pg 61] Back in his room Bartley paced up and down, keeping time to the tune of Cheyenne's trail song. The morning sun poured down upon the station roof opposite, and danced flickering across the polished tracks of the railroad. Presently Bartley stopped pacing his room and stood at the window. Far out across the mesa he saw a rider, drifting along in the sunshine, followed by a gray pack-horse. ”

“ When I was about twenty, and knew three or four successive years of Mathews's At Homes from sitting in the pit to hear them, I wrote to Bartley who was stage manager at Covent-garden, and told him how young I was, and exactly what I thought I could do; and that I believed I had a strong perception of character and oddity, and a natural power of reproducing in my own person what I observed in others. There must have been something [206] in the letter that struck the authorities, for Bartley wrote to me, almost immediately, to say that they were busy getting up the Hunchback (so they were!) ”

“ We Hear a Story—and—Discover It Is True
No one spoke for a moment. Perhaps we were all too surprised to say anything. The calmest one of all was the oriental. His black suit was rumpled and covered with dirt from the path, but his face was calm and impassive. Only the narrow eyes gave any hint of feeling, and the glare in them was not a pleasant one. Then as with a short command Bartley pushed the gun closer against the man's back, we went into the house, down the hall, and into the living room. ”

“ NORA.
They’re carrying a thing among them and there’s water dripping out of it and leaving a track by the big stones.
CATHLEEN.
In a whisper to the women who have come in.—Is it Bartley it is?
ONE OF THE WOMEN.
It is surely, God rest his soul.
[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the body of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay it on the table.] ”

“ Seton-Karr sate down after a palpably obstructive speech, Mr. Bartley got up, and several other Tories at the same time. Mr. Bartley is not an attractive personality. He has a very strong rather than pleasant or intellectual face. There is plenty of bulldog tenacity in it—plenty of animal courage, plenty of self-confidence; but it has none of the rays of a strong intelligence, and not many glimpses of kindliness or sweetness of nature. It is in the work of obstruction that one sees temperament rather than intellect in the House of Commons. ”

“ And the word "dude" was commonly used rather to differentiate an outlander from a native than in an exactly scornful sense. Without a vestige of self-consciousness, Bartley made himself felt as a distinct entity, physically fit and mentally alert. Cheyenne, with his cow-puncher gait and his general happy-go-lucky attitude, furnished a strong contrast to the trim and well-poised Easterner. Dorothy was quick to appreciate this. She thought that she rather liked Bartley. ”

“ Bartley licked his knuckles, and grinned.
[pg 188] "There must have been a little mescal in that second punch," he thought. "I never hit so hard in my life."
The stableman had retired to his bunk--a habit of night stablemen. The stable was dark and still, save for the munching of the horses. In the saloon across the way Cheyenne was facing Sneed and his men, alone. Bartley felt like a quitter. Indecision irritated him, and curiosity urged him to do something other than to stand staring at the saloon front. ”

“ It seemed to have turned warmer after lunch, and we spent the early hours of the afternoon in just lying around. Bartley buried himself in a book, while Carter, after telling us very frankly that he was lazy, went to sleep in the hammock. Ranville, who had some letters he wished to write, vanished to his room, and for several hours the piazza was silent. When at length Bartley flung aside his book, it was to give a glance in my direction and to ask if I cared to take a stroll. ”

“ There are only two men that know you are a felon."
Bartley winced visibly.
"Now one of those men is to be bought"—Bartley lifted his head with a faint gleam of hope at that—"and the other—has gone—down a coal-mine."
"What good will that do me?"
The villain paused, and looked Bartley in the face.
"That depends. Suppose you were to offer me what you offered Hope, and suppose Hope—was never—to come up—again?"
"No such luck," said Bartley, shaking his head sorrowfully.
"Luck," said Monckton, contemptuously; "we make our own luck. Do you see that vagabond lying under the tree, that's Ben Burnley." ”

“ When Bartley went home, he communicated to his wife Father Philip's intention of calling on the following day, to hear a correct account of the Lianhan Shee.
"Why, thin," said she, "I'm glad of it, for I intinded myself to go to him, any way, to get my new scapular consecrated. How-an'-ever, as he's to come, I'll get a set of gospels for the boys an' girls, an' he can consecrate all when his hand's in. Aroon, Bartley, they say that man's so holy that he can do anything—ay, melt a body off the face o' the earth, like snow off a ditch. Dear me, but the power they have is strange all out!" ”

“ Fancy Bartley or Charles Kemble now! And how little they suspect me!" In the later letter from Lucerne written as he was travelling home, he adds: "Did I ever tell you the details of my theatrical idea, before? Strange, that I should have quite forgotten it. I had an odd fancy, when I was reading the unfortunate little farce at Covent-garden, that Bartley looked as if some struggling recollection and connection were stirring up within him—but it may only have been his doubts of that humorous composition." ”

“ Nevertheless Bartley, not yet breathless, moved his multitudinous Amendment. Resumed his seat with consciousness of man who had done his duty. The Squire would get up to answer him; debate would follow ”

“ Dobe promptly caught the change of his rider's mental attitude and stepped out briskly. Bartley patted the horse's neck.
It was a pleasure to ride an animal that seemed to want to work with a man and not against him. The horse had cost one hundred dollars--a fair price for such a horse in those days. Yet Bartley thought it a very reasonable price. And he knew he had a bargain. He felt clearly confident that the big cow-pony would serve him in any circumstance or hazard. ”

“ CHAPTER IV "A LITTLE GREEN RIVER"
To suddenly stop off at a cow-town station, without baggage or definite itinerary, was unconventional, to say the least. Bartley was amused and interested. Hitherto he had written more or less conventional stuff--acceptable stories of the subway, the slums, the docks, and the streets of Eastern cities. But now, as he strode over to the saloon, he forgot that he was a writer of stories. A boyish longing possessed him to see much of the life roundabout, even to the farthest, faint range of hills--and beyond. ”

“ It resulted that on Monday morning they were nervous and impatient, alternating between fits of giggling delight in the interchange of fond reminiscences, and the crossness which is pretty sure to disfigure human behavior from want of sleep. But ordinarily Bartley got on very well with them. In spite of the assumption of equality between all classes in Equity, they stood in secret awe of his personal splendor, and the tradition of his achievements at college and in the great world; and a flattering joke or a sharp sarcasm from him went a great way with them. ”

“ Mr. G. looked on with troubled face from Treasury Bench. Bartley standing up on edge of scrimmage, pointed accusatory forefinger at him, was saying something, probably opprobrious but at the moment inaudible.
"So like Bartley to go to root of matter," said George Russell, who surveyed scene from sanctuary of Speaker's chair. "Others might accuse Joseph of being responsible for disturbance by likening his old colleague and chief to iniquitous King Herod at the epoch when the worms were waiting to make an end of him. ”

“ Bartley's basis had come to be a sort of by-word between them; Ricker usually met him with some such demand as, “Well, what about the basis?” or, “How's your poor basis?” Bartley's ardor for a salaried position amused him, and he often tried to argue him out of it. “You're much better off as a free lance. You make as much money as most of the fellows in places, and you lead a pleasanter life. If you were on any one paper, you'd have to be on duty about fifteen hours out of the twenty-four; you'd be out every night till three or four o'clock ”

“ MacKeller, Bartley’s first chief, was an old friend of my aunt, and he told her that Bartley was a wild, ill-governed youth, which really pleased her very much. I remember we were sitting alone in the dusk after Bartley had been there for the first time. I knew that Aunt Eleanor had found him much to her taste, but she hadn’t said anything. Presently she came out, with a chuckle: ‘MacKeller found him sowing wild oats in London, I believe. I hope he didn’t stop him too soon. Life coquets with dashing fellows. The coming men are always like that. ”

“ In dealing with the funds you have a large discretion. Should the girl die before you, or unmarried, the money lapses to your nephew, my son, Walter Clifford. He is a scapegrace, and has run away from me; but I must protect his just interests. So as a mere matter of form I will ask you whether Mary Bartley is alive. ”

“ I saw Bartley's cool glance as he studied her, and then there came a little smile around his lips as he said:
“Miss Harlan, it is the privilege of young women to lose their tempers. Only in your case it happened that what you said became public. I am sure the chief will agree with me that you are sorry you said what you did; but though there will naturally fall some suspicion because of your going away, yet I think we can take care of that.”
The chief nodded and a grateful look swept over the girl's face. ”

“ He had just turned to walk back to the stable when he heard a shot, and the lighted doorway of the saloon became suddenly dark. Without waiting to see what would happen next, Bartley ran to the rear of the stable and untied the horses. Behind him he heard the quick trample of feet. He turned. A figure appeared in the front doorway of the stable, a figure that dashed toward him, and, with a leap and a swing, mounted Joshua and spurred out and down the alley back of the building. ”

“ You to bring such a disgrace into the parish. A thing that was never heard of before!
Bartley: Will you shut your mouth and hear me speaking?
Mrs. Fallon: And if it was for any sort of a fine handsome woman, but for a little fistful of a [Pg 26] woman like Kitty Keary, that’s not four feet high hardly, and not three teeth in her head unless she got new ones! May God reward you, Bartley Fallon, for the black treachery in your heart and the wickedness in your mind, and the red blood of poor Jack Smith that is wet upon your hand! ”

“ Oh, Bartley, can't you make it up?"
"We have, long ago. We're quite friendly. 'Tis no more now than a sporting fixture for ten pounds a side. There'll be twenty pounds more for furniture for your new home, Madge--if I'm licked."
"Don't talk like that. 'Twould always be covered wi' bloodstains in my eyes. Can't you use the gloves? Why do you want to knock your poor noses crooked for? 'Tis like savage tigers more than Christian men."
"Don't you worry. The colours be coming Monday. Of course I can't ask you to wear mine; but they're prettier far than David's. 'Twas Mr. Fogo's idea. ”

“ Shillabeer, instantly. "You must be just to the dead, Charles, for they can't defend their characters. But I say that my wife was both the largest and best and cleverest woman that ever comed here; and if anybody doubts it, let 'em give chapter and verse."
"Nobody does doubt it, 'Dumpling,'" said Bartley, in a soothing voice. "There may be a smart female here and there yet, and there may be a clever maiden or two coming on also ”