Harry Garlett

“ But already, though she had only been working on and off with him for a very short time, she had come to like the man every one called Harry Garlett. She was a simple, straightforward, old-fashioned girl. From her point of view all ordinary married people love one another, and she believed her employer to be exceptionally devoted to his ailing wife. There had been a note of extreme anxiety and urgency in the now familiar voice which had come up from the garden just now.
As Dr. MacLean hurried by Harry Garlett’s side along the road leading to the Thatched House he felt a good deal disturbed. ”

“ The great tide of life flows on steadily, ruthlessly, whatever be the tragedies or comedies being enacted below the swift-moving waters. Dr. Maclean had an important consultation early that afternoon with a great London specialist. And though both his wife and his niece were aware that he could not be in to lunch, yet both of them shrank from learning the news as to whether Harry Garlett was a free man or had been committed for trial from any one but him. ”

“ Kentworthy, when I tell you most solemnly that Harry Garlett never longed, even unconsciously, for that sort of freedom. He is a man’s man in daily life; he never seemed in the least interested in women; and there was never the slightest breath of scandal about his name.”
The police inspector looked at him gravely.
“I am sorry to say that you are mistaken, Dr. Maclean. You are evidently not aware that there has been a great deal of gossip, not only since Mrs. Garlett’s death, but even before her death, concerning Mr. Garlett and the young lady to whom he is now engaged.” ”

“ And she’s made Harry Garlett.”
Again the spirit of contradiction seized him.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he exclaimed. “Harry Garlett’s the sort of chap who’d have got on far better as a bachelor than as a married man. His wife’s money has ruined him—that’s my view of it! There’s a lot more in Garlett than people think. If he hadn’t married that poor, sickly woman he might have done some real work in the world.”
“Dr. Maclean,” said Miss Prince abruptly, “I’m anxious about Agatha Cheale.” ”

“ Agatha Cheale.
56 CHAPTER VI “I am the most fortunate man in England! I am the happiest man in the world!”
As he swung along in the bright winter sunshine on the field path which formed a short cut to the town, again and again these words seemed to hammer themselves, in joyful cadence, on Harry Garlett’s brain.
What we call the human heart is full of the strangest twists and turnings, and so, though Garlett’s heart was full of Jean Bower, he threw an affectionately retrospective thought to his late wife. ”

“ He stopped speaking. Mr. Kentworthy was busily writing, and Harry Garlett stared at his visitor’s bent head. Though assuring himself that it would be “all right,” he felt an eerie feeling of apprehension wrapping him round.
“I thank you for the straightforward way in which you have answered my questions,” said the police inspector, getting up from his chair, “and now I propose to see Dr. Maclean.”
“Would you like me to make a telephone appointment for you with him?” asked Garlett. “He’s a very busy man.” ”

“ You’ve become our child. Want you to go away!”
She walked up to him and put her hand through his arm. She was very moved, and for one fleeting moment she forgot Harry Garlett.
“Then why,” she faltered, “why did you say that cruel, cruel thing just now, Uncle Jock?—I mean about my leaving Bonnie Doon?”
“Because,” he answered painfully, “if you stay here your life will become unendurable between now and Harry’s trial. Your aunt and I have already talked it over. She suggests you and she going away together to some quiet spot where you can pass as Miss Maclean.” ”

“ Garlett. Like so many sharp-tongued mortals, Miss Prince often did kind things, yet her opening remark was characteristic of her censorious attitude to her fellow creatures.
“It’s a good thing that Harry Garlett’s rather more at his factory just now. If it weren’t for poor old Dodson, that Etna China business would have gone to pieces long ago! I never saw a man gad about as he does——”
Without giving the doctor time to answer, she went on: “No change in poor Emily, I suppose?” She smiled disagreeably. “I expect you’d like to have ten other patients like her, Dr. Maclean?” ”

“ Tasker!”
It was fortunate for her that Jean Bower had no clue to the look which came over Dr. Maclean’s face. He was seeing her in the witness-box, admitting her love for Harry Garlett, unconscious that by so doing she would provide for 119most members of the jury the strongest of all reasons for the crime for which Harry Garlett was on trial for his life.
“And now,” she asked, “may I go and telephone a telegram to Mr. Kentworthy, Uncle Jock?”
A few moments later his wife came into the room. “Jenny,” exclaimed the doctor, “almost has that child convinced me of Harry Garlett’s innocence!” ”

“ They would then go to London for a week’s honeymoon, and, during that week, Dr. and Mrs. Maclean would tell all their neighbours and friends what had happened.
The doctor and his wife reminded each other that there was something about Jean which attracted even cold people. She had such a bright, happy, eager nature. As for Harry Garlett, he was always ready to do anybody a good turn, and also, as a great cricketer, was very popular. Though some old-fashioned people might be shocked by so early a second marriage, every one knew that his late wife had been an invalid for years. ”

“ Maclean, don’t you think it possible that he may have formed some kind of connection which he gave up as, queerly enough, a good many men do give up such friendships after a wife’s death?”
“In this strange world of ours,” said the doctor reluctantly, “everything is possible. But I would have staked a good deal that that particular thing was never true of Harry Garlett. I take it you have seen the anonymous letters in question?”
The police inspector quietly opened his black attaché case. ”

“ Dodson’s getting a very old man; you’ll soon either have to manage the business yourself or get another partner, so take a holiday while you can get one.”
42 CHAPTER IV Poor Emily Garlett’s funeral took place on a beautiful bright spring morning. The broad sunny street of Terriford was filled with motors and carriages, and quite a concourse of people had come out from Grendon, as well as from the surrounding villages, to testify their respect for popular Harry Garlett, both as famous cricketer and as a generous employer of labour. ”

“ But, of course, a mere man's opinion——"
"Oh, don't be absurd, Garrett. It is I that have to ask him—it is pretty obvious that I have every right to choose my own time."
"Oh! Please, don't let me interfere—only I should scarcely have thought that this was quite the moment when Harry would be most inclined to listen to you."
"If we don't ask him now," she answered, "there's no knowing when we shall have the opportunity. When poor father is gone he will have a great deal to settle and decide; he will have no time for anything at all for months ahead. This morning is our last chance." ”

“ What's the trouble?"
"Things aren't the same though, now. There is father, and Robin. Father has taken to Harry strongly. He told me so just now. And for Robin——"
"Scarcely captivated," said Garrett drily. "Have you seen them together? Hardly domestic——"
Then he looked at her again and laughed. "And that pleases you, Clare."
"Of course," she answered him firmly. "There is no good in hedging. He is no brother of ours, Garrett. He is, what is more important still, no Trojan, and after all family counts for something. We don't like him, Garrett. ”

“ Everything that made life worth living was threatened. Not that his brother would turn him out; he granted Harry the very un-Trojan virtues of generosity and affection for humanity in general—a rather foolish, gregarious open-handedness opposed obviously to all decent economy. But Harry would keep him—and the very thought stirred Garrett to a degree of anger that his sluggish nature seldom permitted him. Kept! and by Harry! Harry the outlaw! Harry the rebel! Harry the Greek! Garrett scarcely loved his brother when he thought of it. ”

“ Jack brightened up suddenly. "I can't really believe it is you, Harry. You've grown so big and burly, and you look so old." He smiled. "I wish I could see some of that shooting they all tell about, but that would let the cat out."
Harold could not be drawn off to discuss such matters.
"Come out to the ranch and I'll show you. But how are we to meet father? If he is seen talking with me it may start people off——"
"I'll tell you. We'll have him come up and join you on the train and go down to Rock River together. I don't mean for you to get off, you can keep right on. ”

“ I've been up here to see her once or twice myself."
Harold seized him by the arm. "See here, Jack—I must talk with her. How can I manage it without doing her harm?"
"That's the question. If these people should connect you with 'Black Mose' they'd form a procession behind you. Harry, you don't know, you can't imagine the stories they've got up about you. They've made you into a regular Oklahoma Billy the Kid and train robber. The first great spread was that fight you had at Running Bear, that got into the Omaha papers in three solid columns about six months after it happened. ”

“ He knew well that Harry did not ask for him.
"If it wasn't for these suspicious actions, doctor, I'd let him have the full run of the jail yard, but I dassent let him have any liberties. Why, he can go up the side of the cells like a squirrel! He'd go over our wall like a cat—no doubt of it."
The minister spoke with some effort. "I think you misread my son. He is not one to flee from punishment. He has some other idea in his mind."
To Jack Burns alone, plain, plodding, and slow, Harold showed a smiling face. He met him with a boyish word—"Hello, Jack! ”

“ He stepped out, and Old Harry closed and locked the door behind him.
Mike the Angel said: “Come on, Harry; I want to find something.” He began walking back down the long, narrow shop toward the rear again. Harry followed, looking mystified.
Mike the Angel stopped, sniffing. “Smell that?”
Harry sniffed. “Aye. Burnt insulation. So?”
“You know which one of these bins is nearest to your main control cable. Start looking. See if you find anything queer.”
Old Harry walked over to a nearby bin, pulled it open, and looked inside. He closed it, pulled open another. He found the gadget on the third try. ”

“ Randal comes to-day, doesn't he?"
"Yes, this afternoon. A most delightful boy. I'm afraid that he may find Harry tiresome."
"We must wait," Garrett said finally; "in a week's time we shall see better. But, Clare, don't be rash. There is father—and, besides, it will scarcely help Robin."
"Oh! no melodrama," she said, laughing and moving towards the door. "Only, we understand each other, Garrie. Things won't do as they are—or, as they promise to be." ”

“ If we are denying the Lord who bought us, we are unfit to partake of the feast."
"God forbid that we should do any of these things, sir!" exclaimed honest Garth. "I'm no better than others, I know, but I'd never touch a penny as was not my own, and I don't bear malice, I hope, towards any living creature."
"No, I'm sure he don't!" cried the goodwife.
"Depend upon it, my friends," said Harry, "there is nothing which unfits a believer for appearing at the Table of his Lord, but that which would unfit him for Heaven—self-righteousness and wilful sin. ”

“ Love and Death were such big things that his personal relations with Clare, with Garrett, even with Robin, had assumed their true proportion.
"Clare, you're tired!" he said. "I should go and lie down again. You shall be told if anything happens."
"No, thanks, Harry. I wanted to ask you something—but, perhaps, first I ought to apologise for some of the things that I said the other day. I said more than I meant to. I am sorry—but one forgets at times that one has no right to meddle in other people's affairs. ”

“ Garrett looked up from his paper. "I think you must see, Harry, that we are quite justified in our demands—Clare has put it quite plainly."
"Quite," said Harry. "And you, Robin?"
"I think that Aunt Clare is perfectly right," answered Robin coldly.
Harry's face was very white. He spoke rapidly and his hand gripped the marble of the mantelpiece; he did not want them to see that his legs were trembling.
"Yes. I am glad to know exactly where we stand. It is better for all of us. I might have taken it submissively, Clare, had you left out your last count against me. ”

“ He suited my mood."
"Boys of your age shouldn't have moods." This from Garrett. "I never had."
Robin took his tea without answering, and sat down on the opposite side of the fire to his aunt. How was he to begin? What was he to say? There followed an awful pause—life seemed to have been full of pauses lately.
Clare was watching him anxiously. How had his father's outbreak affected him? She was afraid, from little things that she had seen, that he had been influenced. Harry had been so different those last three days—she could not understand it. She watched him eagerly, hungrily. ”

“ For ourselves, it does not matter. It is hard, of course, but we have had our time, and there are other things and places. It is about Robin. I cannot bear to think what it would mean if he were alone here with Harry, after all these years."
"He would not stay."
"You think that?" Clare said eagerly. "It is so hard to know. He is still only a boy. Of course Harry shocks him now, shocks everything—his sense of decency, his culture, his pride—but that will wear off; he will get used to it—and then——"
It had been inevitable that the discussion should come, and Garrett had been waiting. ”