Mr. Cobb

“ Cobb and the search-party looking for Roy.
"If he sees the light he will look it up," said Mr. Buckman. "That was a good idea of yours, Warren."
"What I'm afraid of," said Mr. Cobb, "is that he has met with an accident of some sort. Seems to me that if he had the use of his limbs he would have reached the school before this, or at least have communicated with us. Well, we'll have to make the best of things until the light comes. Better take a nap, fellows, if you can." ”

“ Cobb, and he had time to marvel smilingly that the football coach had really got his name right for once before he sat up and answered loudly. Then came sounds of crashing branches and Roy jumped dizzily to his feet.
"Look out!" he shouted. "There's a hole here. Look where you're going, Mr. Cobb!"
Then Mr. Cobb was kneeling above at the edge of the quarry looking down upon him anxiously and Harry's face appeared behind his shoulder, a rather white, frightened countenance in the pale light. ”

“ It was one of his principles to permit none of his intimates to speak ill of his friends in his hearing. Criticisms, therefore, by an outsider like Cobb were especially obnoxious to him.
"Richard Horn's head is all right, Mr. Cobb, and so is his heart," he exclaimed in an indignant tone. "As for his genius, sir—Gill is within the mark. He IS one of the remarkable men of our day. You are quite right, too, about his young son, who has just left here. He has all the qualities that go to make a gentleman, and many of those which will make a jurist. ”

“ Emotions of various sorts were all struggling together in the old man's face, and the two or three bystanders were astounded when they saw the handsome, stately girl fling herself on Mr. Cobb's dusty shoulder crying like a child. ”

“ But the death of our sons sort of took the zest of living away from us. I have had to live for my wife and she for me. We never mention our loss. You must be careful of that, Lawrence. She cannot bear it even now. You noticed her picture in the library, did you not? It is a good one, but I carry a better one with me.” He undid his heavy leather coat and fumbled in an inside pocket just as the indicator announced that the wireless was working. Mr. Ridgeway buttoned his coat again, and turned to the wireless table.
“O’Brien is calling,” he said. ”

“ Suppose Zwarg gives his parole not to——"
"He won't," snapped Chisholm.
"How do you know that?"
"Ask him."
Cobb turned, but the German was already on his feet, standing at rigid attention.
"Mr. Chisholm iss right," he said, with tremendous dignity. "I gif no parole votever."
"There you are," cried Chisholm, "and small blame to him! What's more, I wouldn't take a German parole."
The veins at Zwarg's temples swelled visibly. His hands were clenched.
"You ——" he began, in a guttural growl.
"See how we love one another at bottom!" grinned Chisholm gleefully. "You're up against it, Cobb." ”

“ He carried a brandy flask in his pocket, brandy being then considered a remedy, and he drank freely, but imagined himself worse. He was about to rush indoors and tell Mrs. Cobb to send for the surgeon, when the Rector passed.
“Ah, Mr. Cobb! I was just about to call on you; glad to see you looking so well when there’s so much sickness. We shall want you on the School Committee this evening,” and then he explained some business which was to be discussed. Mr. Cobb afterwards was fond of telling the story of this interview. ”

“ It was but proper that Sergeant Bagby, in his capacity as host pro tem, should do the necessary explaining.
“Well now, young lady and young gentleman,” he said, “I'm sorry to have to disappoint you—monstrous sorry—but, to tell you the truth, the Reverend Doctor Grundy ain't here; in fact, we ain't lookin' fur him back fur quite some time yit.”
“He is reunionisin' at the Pastime Skating Rink,” volunteered Mr. Bloomfield. “You'll have to wait a while, Sally Fannie.”
“Oh,” cried the girl, “we can't wait—we just can't wait! We were counting on him. And now—Oh, what shall we do, Harvey?” ”

“ It kind of [Pg 211] jolts me sometimes when I git to thinkin' how many years it's really been; because we're gittin' along right smartly in years—all us old fellows are. Ten years from now, say, there won't be so many of us left.” He glanced sidewise at the lean, firm profile of his friend. “You're younger than some of us; but, even so, you ain't exactly what I'd call a young man yourself.”
Avoiding the direct, questioning gaze that his companion turned on him at this, the judge reached forward and touched a ripe balsam apple that dangled in front of him. ”

“ Mr. Trimm's eyes fell upon his bound hands. Snug-fitting, shiny steel bands irked his wrists. The Grips of the Law were still upon him.
But only in a way of speaking. It was preposterous, unbelievable, altogether out of the question that a man with four millions salted down and stored away, a man who all his life had been used to grappling with the big things and wrestling them down into submission, a man whose luck had come to be a byword—and had not it held good even in this last emergency?—would be balked by puny scraps of forged steel and a trumpery lock or two. ”

“ Mr. Trimm was steered back again the length of the train through a double row of pop-eyed porters and staring trainmen. At the steps where they stopped the instinct to stretch out one hand and swing himself up by the rail operated automatically and his wrists got a nasty twist. Meyers and a brakeman practically lifted him up the steps and Meyers headed him into a car that was hazy with blue tobacco smoke. He was confused in his gait, almost as if his lower limbs had been fettered, too. ”

“ There is no crueler thing than a city crowd, all eyes and morbid curiosity. But Mr. Trimm didn't see the staring eyes on that ride to the Grand Central. What he saw was many shifting feet and a hedge of legs shutting him in closely—those and the things on his wrists. What the eyes of the crowd saw was a small, stout man who, for all his bulk, seemed to have dried up inside his clothes so that they bagged on him some places and bulged others, with his head tucked on his chest, his hat over his face and his fingers straining to hold his coat sleeves down over a pair of steel bracelets. ”

“ Mr. Trimm didn't sleep much. Under the squeeze of the tightened fetters his wrists throbbed steadily and racking cramps ran through his arms. His stomach felt as though it were tied into knots. The water that he drank from the branch only made his hunger sickness worse. His undergarments, that had been wet with perspiration, clung to him clammily. His middle-aged, tenderly-cared-for body called through every pore for clean linen and soap and water and rest, as his empty insides called for food. ”

“ The major half nodded, half shook his head.
“By reputation only I know the person in question,” he answered a bit stiffly.
“Well,” she went on, “there ain't so much more to tell. I've been sick lately—I had a right hard spell. I ain't got my strength all [Pg 166] back yit. I was laid up three weeks, and last Monday, when I was up and jest barely able to crawl round, Vic Magner, she come to me and told me that I'd have to git out unless I could git somebody to stand good for my board. I owed her for three weeks already and I didn't have but nine dollars to my name. ”

“ Walling would work out the details of the escape—and make it safe and sure—trust Walling for those things. On one side was the prison, with its promise of twelve grinding years sliced out of the very heart of his life; on the other, freedom, ease, security, even power. Through Mr. Trimm's mind tumbled thoughts of concessions, enterprises, privileges—the back corners of the globe were full of possibilities for the right man. ”

“ The car was full of shirt-sleeved men who stood up, craning their necks and stumbling over each other in their desire to see him. These men came out into the aisle, so that Meyers had to shove through them.
“This here'll do as well as any, I guess,” said Meyers. He drew Mr. Trimm past him into the seat nearer the window and sat down alongside him on the side next the aisle, settling himself on the stuffy plush seat and breathing deeply, like a man who had got through the hardest part of a not easy job. ”

“ Of the charred, grisly thing in the improvised morgue at Westfield, wherever that might be, Mr. Trimm took no heed nor wasted any pity. All his life he had used live men to work his will, with no thought of what might come to them afterward. The living had served him, why not the dead?
He had other things to think of than this dead proxy of his. He was as good as free! There would be no hunt for him now; no alarm out, no posses combing every scrap of cover for a famous criminal turned fugitive. He had only to lie quiet a few days, somewhere, then get in secret touch with Walling. ”

“ Mr. Trimm hadn't meant to protest. The word came unbidden.
“This—this isn't necessary, is it?” he asked in a voice that was husky and didn't seem to belong to him.
“Yep,” said Meyers. “Standin' orders is play no favorites and take no chances. But you won't find them things uncomfortable. Lightest pair there was in the office, and I fixed 'em plenty loose.”
For half a minute Mr. Trimm stood like a rooster hypnotized by a chalkmark, his arms extended, his eyes set on his bonds. His hands had fallen perhaps four inches apart, and in the space between his wrists a little chain was stretched taut. ”

“ Back and forth along the lower edge of his yard the farmer hunted, with the whimpering, cowed terrier to guide him, poking in dark corners with the muzzle of his shotgun for the unseen intruder whose coming had aroused the household. In a brushpile just over the fence to the east Mr. Trimm lay on his face upon the wet earth, with the rain beating down on him, sobbing with choking gulps that wrenched him cruelly, biting at the bonds on his wrists until the sound of breaking teeth gritted in the air. ”

“ He passed on, and after a moment lifted up his voice in a sort of chant.
“And the folks will say, ‘What did you do with yourself when you wasn’t flyin’?’ and I will say, ‘Oh, we found a pretty decent Club. Old Dook Mountjoy-and-Thinggummy belongs. Used to meet him there with the Prime Minister.’”
Bill glared. “Honest; I tell you one thing right now. You can commence to talk straight United States NOW or we go back in separate dirigibles.”
“Aw, I’m just practicin’,” Hank replied.
“Not on me,” said Bill. “Hurry up now, can’t you see Mr. ”

“ The search produced four cigars somewhat crumpled and frayed; some matches in a gun-metal case, a silver cigar cutter, two five-dollar bills, a handful of silver chicken feed, the leather case of the eyeglasses, a couple of quill toothpicks, a gold watch with a dangling fob, a notebook and some papers. Mr. Trimm ranged these things in a neat row upon a log, like a watchmaker setting out his kit, and took swift inventory of them. Some he eliminated from his design, stowing them back in the pockets easiest to reach. He kept for present employment the match safe, the cigar cutter and the watch. ”

“ Other men, laborers to judge by their blue overalls, were sitting on the edges of the car with their feet dangling. For the second time within twelve hours impulse ruled Mr. Trimm, who wasn't given to impulses normally. He made a jump off the right-of-way, and as the handcar flashed by he watched its flight from the covert of a weed tangle. ”

“ Trimm long to find out that they were not to be got off. He tugged and pulled, trying with his fingers for a purchase. All he did was to chafe his skin and make his wrists throb with pain. The cuffs would go forward just so far, then the little humps of bone above the hands would catch and hold them.
Mr. Trimm was not a man to waste time in the pursuit of the obviously hopeless. Presently he stood up, shook himself and started off at a fair gait through the woods. The sun was up now and the turf was all dappled with lights and shadows, and about him much small, furtive wild life was stirring. ”

“ Trimm was squatted behind a big boulder, squinting warily through a thick-fringed curtain of ripened goldenrod tops and sumacs, heavy-headed with their dark-red tapers. He had been there more than an hour, cautiously waiting his chance to hail the blacksmith, whose figure he could make out in the smoky interior of his shop, passing back and forth in front of a smudgy forge fire and rattling metal against metal in intermittent fits of professional activity. ”

“ Trimm. “I want your help in getting these—these things off and sending a message to a friend. You'll be well paid, very well paid. I can pay you more money than you ever [Pg 43] had in your life, probably, for your help. I can promise——”
He broke off, for the tramp, as if reassured by his words, had stooped again to his cooking and was stirring the bubbling contents of the washboiler with a peeled stick. The smell of the stew, rising strongly, filled Mr. Trimm with such a sharp and an aching hunger that he could not speak for a moment. ”

“ A huddled figure [Pg 49] slowly climbed upon a low fence running about the house-yard of the little farm where the boy lived who got thrashed for losing a milkpail. On the wet top rail, precariously perching, the figure slipped and sprawled forward in the miry yard. It got up, painfully swaying on its feet. It was Mr. Trimm, looking for food. He moved slowly toward the house, tottering with weakness and because of the slick mud underfoot; peering near-sightedly this way and that through the murk; starting at every sound and stopping often to listen. ”