Hawksley

“ A crowded day, and no mistake, as full of individual acts as a bill at a vaudeville, trained-animal act last. Was it possible that he had gone fiddle hunting that morning, netting an Amati worth ten thousand dollars? Hawksley—no, he couldn't blame Hawksley. Still, if this young Humpty-Dumpty hadn't been pushed off his wall he, Cutty, would not now be marooned upon this roof 'twixt the devil and the deep blue sea. To remain here until sunrise would be impossible; to slide down the drain was equally impossible—that is, if he ever wanted to see Boris Karlov again. ”

“ John Hawksley was incomparably above and beyond anything in that Bible of autocracy—the Almanach de Gotha.
After supper Cutty brought in the old Amati.
“Play,” he said, lighting his pipe.
So Hawksley played—played as he never had played before and perhaps as he would never play again. We reach zenith sometimes, but we never stay there. But he was not playing to Cutty. Slate-blue eyes, two books with endless pages, the soul of this wife of his. He had come through. The miracle had been accomplished. Love. ”

“ A more beautiful face I never saw. I can’t describe it—only that her great big eyes were black and shining as those of a deer; that her figure was the most superbly developed, the most symmetrical that I ever beheld in my life. Boys, that face and figure has haunted me ever since. If that woman is as good and pure as she is beautiful, she would be well worth dying for!” suddenly added Hawksley, puffing vigorously at his extinguished pipe.
“And still better living for—eh, Fred?” and Ned Campbell laughed. ”

“ Hawksley tore the note into scraps. Food and sleep. He walked toward the kitchen, musing. What an odd mixture he was! Superficially British, with the British outlook; and yet filled with the dancing blood of the Latin and the cold, phlegmatic blood of the Slav. He was like a schoolmaster with two students too big for him to handle. Always the Latin was dispossessing the Slav or the Slav was ousting the Latin. With fatalistic confidence that nevermore would he look upon the kindly face of Stefani Gregor, alive, he went in search of food. ”

“ Bending low in the saddle, Hawksley rode on at a rapid gallop, his keen eye, sharpened by a knowledge of his child’s peril, picking up the trail unerringly. Straight as the flight of a crow, for miles, led the trace.
Hawksley’s brow darkened as he noted this. The abductor seemed striking for the broad, unsettled prairie. Could it be that he was one of those fiendish renegades who found a refuge among the Kiowas? He could think of no other solution for the abductor taking such a course.
“Never mind—’twill only be the easier to trail him, if he keeps away from the settled track. Ha! ”

“ Such benevolent actions as were sometimes reported of Hawksley were also attributed to his magical powers. On one occasion, when a friendless child was knocked down by a horse and taken up with a broken leg, it was the old chemist who bore the little sufferer tenderly away, closed the shop door in the faces of a gaping crowd, afraid to enter, and told them that he would care for and cure the foundling. ”

“ When Cutty finished his romance Hawksley frowned. "All said and done, if I'm not that splendid old chap's protégé, what am I? But for his patience and kindness I'd have run true to the blood. He was with me at the balancing age, when a chap becomes a man or a rotter. He actually gave up a brilliant career because of me. He is a great musician, with that strange faculty of taking souls out of people and untwisting them. I have the gift, too, in a way; but there's always a bit of the devil in me when I play. ”

“ CHAPTER XXVI HAWKSLEY heard the lift door close, and he knew that at last he was alone. He flung out his arms, ecstatically. Free! He would see no more of that nagging beggar Ryan until to-morrow. Free to put into execution the idea that had been bubbling all day long in his head, like a fine champagne, firing his blood with reckless whimsicality.
Quietly he stole down the corridor. Through a crack in the kitchen door he saw Kuroki's back, the attitude of which was satisfying. ”

“ Hawksley was one of those general favorites, half-fool, half-rogue, who spent his money with a lavish hand, making friends with everybody, while I, naturally reserved, had become morose and unsociable since these sickening rumors began to meet my ear. So you see it took very little to get up a hue and cry against me.
“Arch. Hawksley came and removed his brother. That night, though the doctors pronounced Chris. in no immediate danger, a mob, led by those who had once been my dearest friends—your father and Arch. ”

“ Though it was Albert Mestayer who performed that deed, his disguise had made him look like a much younger man, and there was a family resemblance between the uncle and nephew, so that Hawksley’s mistake was natural.
A plan of attack, bold and daring, was quickly arranged.
“Jack Colton, you will take one-half of the men, and I’ll lead the others,” hurriedly commanded Hawksley. “You go to the right and gain the foot of the hill. Then when I give the signal, close in. But remember, the white man must be taken alive.” ”

“ A light rifle was carelessly balanced across the deep-seated Mexican saddle. Other weapons gleamed from the belt that encircled her round, compact waist.
“Who and what are you, anyhow?” cried Campbell, breaking the spell with an effort.
The only reply was a low, clear laugh, melodious as the notes of a silver bell. Hawksley had not exaggerated in the least. The most skeptical now acknowledged this, mentally, if not aloud.
“Keep her in sight, Ned,” muttered Fred, as he arose. “If Mott can do it, I’ll answer that question before I’m an hour older!” ”

“ Each of his friends felt the same vague fear that agitated Campbell’s heart. They believed that Hawksley was being led into some great peril by this strange rider—that she was acting the part of a decoy. ”

“ At his movement, the strange rider wheeled her mustang and seemed ready for flight, her face turned, glancing back over her shoulder.
“I can drop the piebald without hurting her,” muttered Campbell, half inquiringly.
“No—that would never do. We have no right. Keep her in sight—I think I can overhaul her,” and Hawksley uttered a low whistle, at the same time gliding toward where his saddle and bridle hung.
With another clear laugh, the strange rider turned and, bending low along the spotted mustang’s neck, dashed around the timber. ”

“ In the living room Hawksley sat in a chair, the fiddle across his knees. He understood now. The old chap was in love with the girl, and was afraid of himself; couldn't risk having her and letting her go. ... A curse on the drums of jeopardy! Misfortune followed their wake always. The world would have been different this hour if he——
The break in the trend of thought was caused by the entrance of Kuroki, who was followed by a man. This man dropped into a chair without apparently noticing that the room was already tenanted, for he never glanced toward Hawksley. A haggard face, dull of eye. ”

“ Hawksley is going to become an American citizen. Kitty, what are some of the principles of good citizenship?”
“To be nice to policemen. Not to meddle with politics, because it is vulgar. To vote perfunctorily. To 'let George do it' when there are reforms to be brought about. To keep your hat on when the flag goes by because otherwise you will attract attention. To find fault without being able to offer remedies. To keep in debt because life here in America would be monotonous without bill collectors.”
Cutty interrupted with a laugh. “Kitty, you'll 'scare Hawksley off the map!” ”

“ Two-Hawks. That name bothered him. He knew he had heard it before, but never in the Russian tongue. It might be that the chap had been spoofing Kitty. Still, he had also called himself Hawksley.
The smoke thickened; there were frequent flares of matches. One by one Cutty discarded the photographs, dropping them on the floor beside his chair, his mind boring this way and that for a solution. He had now come to the point where he ceased to see the photographs or the green stones. The movements of his hands were almost automatic. And in this abstract manner he came to the last photograph. ”

“ It's our guilty consciences that are peopling the shadows with goblins. What really bothers us is that we have broken our word to the kindliest man in all this world."
Hawksley wondered if he could walk round the block without falling down. He saw that he was facing a physical collapse, hastened by the knowledge that the safety of the girl depended largely upon himself. What he had accepted at the beginning as strength had been nothing more than exhilaration and nerve energy. ”

“ See how the toes cut in?”
“Right—but—”
“With boots on, you say?” interrupted Hawksley, who had risen unobserved.
“Yes, and large ones too.”
“Then he did not make them, for he left his boots at the house, with his empty saddle-bags.”
“Likely he took moccasins out o’ the bags, so’s to step easy,” suggested Ruel.
“Hark! some one is coming.”
“Two, rather, from the sound. Yes—see; it’s Fenton an’ Morley. Jest in time, boys,” he added, as the two men rode up to the spot. “We want you, with Hawksley here, to take an’ foller up this trail, while Ned an’ I look to t’other ’ne. ”

“ But why hadn't Hawksley inquired about them? Stoic indifference? A good loser? How had he got through the customs without a lot of publicity? The Russian consul of the old regime probably; and an appraiser who was a good sport. To have come safely to his destination, and then to have lost out! The magnificent careless generosity of putting the wallet behind Kitty's flatirons, to be hers if he didn't pull through! Why, this fiddling derelict was a man! Stood up and fought Karlov with his bare fists; wasn't ashamed to weep over his mother's photograph ”

“ This chap here, in the dingy parlour of his Montana ranch, playing these indescribable melodies to the stars, his cowmen outside wondering what was the matter with their “inards.” Somehow this picture lightened the depression.
“My fingers are stiff,” said Hawksley. “My hand is tired. I should like to be alone.” He lay back rather inertly.
In the corridor Cutty whispered to the dealer: “What do you think of him?”
“As he says, his touch shows a little stiffness, but the wonderful fire is there. He's an amateur, but a fine one. Practice will bring him to a finish in no time. ”

“ The contempt and jealousy of one race for another; what was God's idea in implanting that in souls? Hawksley was at base Russian. The boy's English education, his adopted outlook upon life, made it possible for Cutty to ignore the racial antagonism of the Anglo-Saxon for all other races. Stefani Gregor at one end of the world and he at the other, blindly working out the destinies of Kitty Conover and Ivan Mikhail Feodorovich and so forth and so on, with the blood of Catharine in his veins! ”

“ Hear that?” cried Cutty, throwing up a window.
“Music.”
“Look through that street there. See the glint of bayonets? American soldiers, marching up Fifth Avenue, thousands of them, freemen who broke the vaunted Hindenburg Line. God bless 'em! Americans, every mother's son of 'em; who went away laughing, who returned laughing, who will go back to their jobs laughing. The ability to laugh, that's America. Do you know how to laugh?”
“I used to. I'm jolly weak just now. But I'll grin if you want me to.” And Hawksley grinned. ”

“ Bah! you are dull—very stupid. Well then, I am sworn brother to Chigilli, the Kiowa chief. He is waiting for me to send him word when all is in readiness for him to strike a blow at the settlement. My nephew is to bring them on—seventy-five strong. He has my instructions to follow back his trail—and to kill or capture all who may be upon it. This is why I laughed. I have just been scouting round them, so close that I could have picked off any one of their number, had that been my wish. But I have a different fate in store for Hawksley—the rest I care not for. ”

“ Miss Conover will breakfast with us, and the sight of her will give you a brace. I'm sorry. I had to ask you.”
“Beefsteak and a pretty girl! That's something. I suppose she was trapped by the lift not running.” Hawksley was trying to meet Cutty halfway to cover up the tragedy. “I say, why the deuce do you let her live where she does?”
“Because I'm not legally her guardian. She is the daughter of the man and woman I loved best. All I can do is to watch over her. She lives on her earnings as a newspaper writer. ”

“ Still, you seem able to take care of yourself. I might suggest——"
"With that black eye? Nay, nay! I'll bet somebody's brother gave it to you."
"Venus was not on that occasion in ascendancy. Thank you for the change." Hawksley swung on his heel and reëntered the booth.
A great weariness oppressed him. A longing, almost irresistible, came to him to go out and cry aloud: "Here I am! Kill me! I am tired and done!" For he had recognized the purchaser of the cigars as one of the men who had left the 125th Street Station at the same time as he. ”

“ Talk like that will carry a man anywhere in this country. You shall stay here until you are strong again. Then some night I'll put you on your train for Montana. You want to ask questions. I'll save you the trouble by telling you what I know."
But his narrative contained no mention of the emeralds. Why? A bit conscience-stricken because, if he could, he was going to rob his guest on the basis that findings is keepings? Cutty wasn't ready to analyze the omission. Perhaps he wanted Hawksley himself to inquire about the stones; test him out. ”