Lockwood

“ He was hustled out of the gallery. Lockwood had never before met the hostility of a mob. It is something that cows and crushes the spirit. He lost his head; he tried stumblingly to tell his story as they were shoving him down the steps. Nobody paid him any attention. His words sounded weak even to himself. He saw a man carrying a heap of loose rope over his arm.
At that moment Hanna came hastily out from the rear hall, wearing hat and leggings, and carrying a rifle. At sight of Lockwood he stopped dead, a sort of wild amazement on his face, changing to a fire of victory and vindictiveness. ”

“ Lockwood coveted that machine. With its aid he could make a hundred miles in a night, and an escape would be easily arranged. With acute interest he turned to look at the two young men who leaped out and came up the steps, passing loud and cheerful greetings by name to almost every one on the store gallery.
“Mornin’, Mr. Power! Howdy, Jackson! Good mornin’, sir!” went round, and Lockwood noticed that everybody looked pleased and interested. He was more than interested himself. These were more than the owners of the coveted car. These were the men he most wanted to see—McGibbon’s new friends. ”

“ In this quaint and quiet place, and while a mere stripling of ten years, young Lockwood displayed his love of adventure and active life by forming a company of all the colored boys in the village, erecting earthworks in a vacant lot, and, all armed with corn-stalks and broom-handles, meeting a company of white boys in mimic war—noisy, if not dangerous to life or limb. ”

“ When I became acquainted with Frank Lockwood he was a young actor at a seaside theatre. He did not, in the judgment of his comrades, show much promise and wisely abandoned the stage as a career. I next met him as a rising barrister at the house of the Kendals, with whom he was on terms of close friendship, as he soon became with my wife and me.
Lockwood was a brilliant caricaturist. His company was always a delight. I remember an evening when he sat by me at dinner after he had fought many a hard battle, and I asked if he were offered a judgeship would he accept it. ”

“ Silence fell in the dimly lit parlor with the marble-topped table and the Confederate flags. The bells of St. Michael's boomed out slowly, resonantly, blurring the soft Southern night air. Veazie turned from the window.
“You're getting tired, Mr. Lockwood,” he warned. His solicitude was real enough. What if the old man should collapse, or even die, under too great an emotional strain? Lockwood's voice gave evidence of exhaustion. “This is enough for the first interview. Hadn't we better be going back to the hotel? You've got all to-morrow, and every other day, to hear all the details.” ”

“ Lockwood was first to speak—as Veazie always intended every client should be.
“My daughter!” he articulated, in a somewhat broken voice. “My little girl!”
“Ah, sir, she must be a big girl by now,” smiled the professor, his gold tooth gleaming. “We all lose sight of growth, of development, in those whom we have not seen for many years. As I am informed by certain higher forces, more than forty years have passed since you lost your dear daughter, Marian.” ”

“ Lockwood, possess your soul in patience. Be of good cheer. Have faith!”
“I'll try to, though Lord knows it's hard, when a man has reached my age—when he has no kith or kin but just the one daughter, the child of his youth—”
Professor Veazie rose and laid a hand kindly on the old man's bent shoulder. ”

“ Lockwood lodged there, as being more convenient, but most of his waking hours were spent in his employer’s home. A perfect secretary he had proved himself to be, for his prescience amounted almost to clairvoyance, and his imperturbability was exceedingly useful in keeping troublesome people or things away from John Waring.
So, he determined to stay on guard, lest a chance caller should come to disturb the Doctor at his work. ”

“ The subsequent history of these gentlemen is given in "A relation of the lives and deaths of Wilkin (or William) Lockwood, and Adam Beaumont, esqrs. and what adventures happened to them after the battle with the Eland men, in Anely wood;" from which we learn that Lockwood retired to a solitary place called Camel hall, near Cawthorn (now Cannon hall) , where he was subsequently taken by the sheriff and his men, after a desperate resistance, and cruelly put to death, to the utter extirpation of the ancient family of Lockwood, of Lockwood, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. ”

“ Miss Austin was seen to come over in this direction—well, none but a half-wit would be blind to the inevitable conclusions!”
“None but a half-wit would read into this evidence what you pretend to see,” retorted Lockwood, almost losing his calm.
“That’s my business,” Cray said, sharply: “now, Mr. Lockwood, why did you smooth off that chair back? Careful, now, two witnesses saw you do it.”
[209]
“I’m not denying it”—Lockwood smiled in a bored, superior way, “but if I did it, I was—and am unconscious of it. One often touches a piece of furniture in passing with no thought of doing so.” ”

“ Even in his getaway, Lockwood had been characteristic. He had been strong enough to bide his time, clever enough to throw every one off guard. It put a new aspect on the case for me. Had Whitney intended the capture of Inez for Lockwood? Had our coming so unexpectedly into the case thrown the plans awry and was it the purpose to leave them marooned at Rockledge while we were shunted off in the city? That, too, was plausible. I wished Kennedy would return before anything else happened. ”

“ The pungent cigar smoke floated out through the window.
“Do you like it here?” said Lockwood gently.
“Yes—but I didn’t think it would be like this,” with a gesture toward the open window.
“Poker?”
“Yes—everything. You’ve seen something; you’ll see more. I can’t blame the boys so much. They’re the best fellows in the world. But they haven’t a thing to do; they grew up idle, and now their pockets are full of money, and they’re bursting with life, and they’re always looking for something new to play with. And Mr. Hanna——”
“Yes?” said Lockwood, with intense interest. ”

“ Lockwood, when you learn that the finger prints on the chair frame are your own and those of a certain young person who is already under suspicion.”
Gordon Lockwood, as always under a sudden stress, became even more impassive, and his eyes glittered as he faced the attorney.
“Don’t be too absurd, Mr. Cray,” he advised, coldly. “I suppose you mean Miss Austin—I prefer to have no veiled allusions. But the finding of her finger prints on a chair in this room, and mine also, does not seem to me to be in any way evidence of crime.” ”

“ Hanna sat directly opposite Lockwood, and the woods rider compelled himself to meet his enemy’s eye with coolness. Hanna had changed little since he was McGibbon; he was handsome as ever, and as suave and dignified, but Lockwood had the key to that face now, and he read behind the hard mouth, the hard, watchful gray eyes. Hanna, for his part, had been observing Lockwood with a good deal of unobtrusive curiosity, though they had hardly exchanged three sentences. At last he said, across the table:
“You’re not an Alabama man, Mr. Lockwood?” ”

“ Lockwood and the Senorita are on intimate terms," hazarded Kennedy, as Whitney rejoined us.
"Poor little girl," soliloquized the promoter. "Yes, indeed. And Lockwood is a lucky dog, too. Such eyes, such a figure—did you ever see a more beautiful woman?" ”

“ It was the second time that Lockwood had caught him going to them, and what he could have to say to them was a mystery.
It was nearly a week before he again saw any members of the Power family. He rode over once just before dusk and found nobody at home. A few days later, finding some spare time on his hands early in the forenoon, he repeated his call. ”

“ Indeed, one can scarcely doubt it, when it is shown that this little shoe of hers,” he took it from his pocket, “exactly fits the prints that cross the field of snow between here and the Adams house.”
“To measure footprints—after all this time!” and Lockwood’s lip curled.
“The prints are exactly as they were made, Mr. Lockwood. The unchanging cold weather has kept them intact. I tried this shoe, and the prints are unmistakable. Moreover, the short stride is just the measure of the natural steps of Miss Austin. The footprints lead from the Adams house over here and back again. ”

“ Lieutenant Greely kindly added, from private stores, some very good California port wine. Lockwood’s reflections, however, carried him to his distant home, and he longed to know that all there were well—that his dear parents and sisters were happy as when he was with them! Perhaps, even at that hour, their thoughts and words were of him. On this day, as frequently on his sledging journeys, he pictured to himself the family circle in the far-off home. The cold, fatigue, and monotony attending him and his companions were rendered endurable by thus breaking away from the present. ”

“ But Lockwood still sacrifices to Pan among the beehives and propitiates the Thunder God with favourite kittens, and Roger the Second long ago informed his would-be mentor, to her horror, that if a fellow tried to be like his father and told the truth and worked hard, he thought that fellow could take his chances with God! Dear, obstinate lad, with your cleft chin and your blue eyes, it is not your grandmother, who leaves her Emerson and her Psalms unread together, when she can fill her keen, proud eyes with you, that will deny your simple creed! ”

“ Lockwood cried. “Just get Power to get a report from some reliable business man in Mobile or Pascagoula before he does anything. That’s all I want.”
“Well, I’ve known old Henry pretty near all my life, and I guess he’ll listen to me,” said Craig. “I know for a fact that there ain’t any oil wells at Pascagoula. I’ll just ring them up and see if Henry’s there.”
He went to the telephone, and got the Power house after the usual long delay. Lockwood listened to the passing of a few words.
“The men are all out,” said Craig, turning aside. “Nobody there but Miss Louise. ”

“ Gordon Lockwood stated. “She doesn’t like us,—I’m sure of that. Well, why should she, if she doesn’t want to?”
“Why shouldn’t she?” countered Tyler. “She’s so terribly superior,—I can’t bear her. She acts as if she owned the earth, yet nobody knows who she is, or anything about her.”
“Are we entitled to?” asked Lockwood. “Why should we inquire into her identity or history further than she chooses to enlighten us?”
[81]
“Where is Miss Austin?” asked Doctor Waring, returning, quite composed and calm.
“She went home,” informed Mrs. Bates. “Are you all right, John?” ”

“ He might discover himself to Hanna; he had no doubt that the man would instantly accept the challenge to draw and shoot; and the issue would be self-defense. Lockwood was not afraid of the chances; he had practiced endlessly with the little blue automatic, and the weapon had grown as familiar to him as his own fingers.
During those first days he did not leave the turpentine tract, and he saw nothing of either Hanna or the Power boys. ”

“ Lockwood's camera shy. Odd stick! Gone to seed in the attic. A has-been. Rotten with money, though. A recluse, with only two or three friends. Singular habits. Sometimes sits up all night, reading. Lives all alone in that big barn of a house, with only a housekeeper and a maid and a chauffeur.”
“Drives, eh?”
“Oh, yes—he's quite a baby for gas.” Lomax shot smoke into the dim air. “Used to be a live-wire traveler and explorer, and Still likes to gad about.”
“Explorer, eh?” asked Wyatt. ”

“ He was not the first man who has been ruined by a business associate, but it is not often that the ruin is so complete and sweeping. Looking back now, Lockwood was continually filled with an increasing amazement that anybody could ever have been so incredibly trusting, so almost criminally young as he had been. ”

“ Although it gave him a thrill of horror, Lockwood had nerved himself to appropriate Waring’s desk, for it meant far greater convenience in his work.
He sat there as Cray entered, and raised his impassive face to note the attorney’s excitement.
“By Jove, Lockwood,” Cray, exclaimed, as he closed the door behind him, “there’s a new way to look, which seems to promise to straighten out a lot of things. Do you know that little piece over at your boarding house, named Austin?” ”

“ I seen him get off the boat. He’s stayin’ with the Power boys.”
Hanna? McGibbon had changed his name then. But that was to be expected; and Lockwood himself was not carrying the same name as five years ago, when he and McGibbon were partners.
“Where do the Powers live?” he asked his almost invisible interlocutors.
“’Bout two mile from here, past the post office. Goin’ thar to-night?”
“Oh, no,” Lockwood exclaimed. “In fact, I’m going to the turpentine camp. But I’ve got to find a place to stay to-night.”
“Ain’t but one, I reckon. Mr. Ferrell at the post office takes in travelers sometimes. ”

“ On finding myself safe on shore once more, I shipped on the bark Jeanette, of London, for New York, from whence I went in the schooner Eliza, for Boston.
On board of this schooner I met a man by the name of Lockwood, whom I found to be in every respect worthy of filling the place made vacant by the death of Tom Stone. He was a strong, wiry man, full of determination, cruel and desperate in his disposition, and totally without fear. ”

“ There was one stole from old Lockwood's lib'ary last night—maybe the same one, eh? We ain't identified the chauffeur yet, and the West Indies nigger's never come to enough so he can talk; but still we might hang somethin' on that skull, an'—sure, now, what's wrong? You're as white as paper, an'—”
Wyatt delayed to hear no more, but turned and fled.
Pemberton Square lies a scant third of a mile from the Lockwood mansion. Rarely had a taxi made better time for an equal distance in that section of Boston than did the one that Wyatt hailed as he ran out into the square. ”