Ricker

“ He saw how hideous it was in the retrospect, and he shuddered; his good instincts awoke, and put forth their strength, such as it was; tears came into his eyes; he resolved to write to Kinney and exonerate Ricker, he resolved humbly to beg Ricker's pardon. He must leave Boston; but if Marcia would forgive him, he would go back with her to Equity, and take up the study of the law in her father's office again, and fulfil all her wishes. He would have a hard time to overcome the old man's prejudices, but he deserved a hard time, and he knew he should finally succeed. ”

“ No sleep for Henri until this question was settled.
“There you are,” said the sorely perplexed chum; “if we go to warn the Cossack it may not blunt the claws he has sharpened for us; if we tell it straight it will put Ricker on the rack, for nobody would believe that the crank who wished the ring on the red man did it of his own accord, and with Ricker against the wall there’s no telling how far he would go to fix us good and plenty.” ”

“ Ricker spasmodically snapped off the light.
It was several moments before he turned it on again and played it through the ports of the lifeless cabin.
They were all the same. The other pilot lay in the aisle. The detective lolled restlessly near his seat. The old sourdough swayed, upright in his chair—with his head almost burned away.
Ricker clicked off the light, pulled away from the drifting tomb and bent over the transmitter. "Chief?" he said hoarsely. "Everybody on that liner's been murdered. ”

“ Ricker felt a sinking sensation as the plane slowed its descent. Looking out the port, he saw the surface of Neptune gradually flatten into an endless table of sleek gleaming ice, ghostly blue in the pale light, like a frozen lake in moonlight. They sank closer and the bare expanse swelled to a dim monotonous plain of mirrored shadows. Far out, above the razor-smooth horizon, a dull red ball cast its feeble light across the lonely scene. Ricker felt a twinge of helplessness, home-sickness. That weak orange light was the sun....
Gurren fought the controls. ”

“ The news won’t be long getting back to your place. They’ll miss you at musters and raisings, and begin to inquire, ‘Where’s Ricker? We want him to take hold of this man that’s throwing everybody.’ The answer will come back, ‘Ricker’s given up drinking and wrestling, and is at work on Elm Island, having the best of wages. People there think everything of him, and won’t let him go. He’s going to buy a farm, and live among them.’ Take my word for it, the young woman will be the first one to hear of it; and in time matters will right themselves. ”

“ Not the rockets of Trexel's ships, the jets of the Stellar Patrol. It was! The Patrol had gotten through!
Trexel stood like a man of stone. For a full ten seconds he didn't move.
Ricker knocked the woman aside, dropped to the floor. The gun flamed. Trexel pulled the trigger wildly. Ricker snatched the glass table from the floor beside him, hurled it up into the man's ghastly face. His thick mouth burst into a red spray as glass crashed. He fought to get rid of the table, its jagged edges cut into his arms and face. Ricker hurled a chair. It hit the man's head like a pole striking cement. ”

“ Ricker went abroad and spent two years on the continent, mostly in Germany, during which time she acquired a knowledge of the German language sufficient to be able to speak and write it fluently. She has always been fond of travel. She takes pleasure in athletic games, delights in fast horses, likes good living, but has very little taste for exclusively fashionable society. ”

“ The Martian smiled and turned to go.
"Wait," said Trexel. He nodded to Ricker. "On your way, take this man out and shoot him." Ricker's heart jumped but he stared at the man without a change of expression.
"Shouldn't you first find out if he's lying, Senator?" Molly Borden's unruffled voice raised the fat man's bulbous eyes. "We shouldn't rush into this attack unless quite sure—"
"I know where I stand," said Trexel. "I have men close to every government on Earth. When I give the command, they'll take over while my ships destroy all resistance. ”

“ The puffs stopped. The Martian halted. He stared at Ricker in the doorway and his face was puzzled. He coughed and his chin, his shirt became cherry-red. Then he crumpled to the ground.
Ricker turned, walked slowly back to the room.
At the door, he paused. He saw Dorothy Adison standing over the motionless hulk of Trexel. She swayed, one hand at her throat. In her other hand was Trexel's gun. Where the head of the fat man had been was a dark, dripping ball of horror.
The woman dropped the pistol. It struck the man's body, rolled to the floor. ”

“ Witherby's going to get all he can, for as little as he can, every time.”
Ricker was a newspaper man in every breath. His great interest in life was the Chronicle-Abstract, which paid him poorly and worked him hard. To get in ahead of the other papers was the object for which he toiled with unremitting zeal; but after that he liked to see a good fellow prosper, and he had for Bartley that feeling of comradery which comes out among journalists when their rivalries are off. He would hate to lose Bartley from the Chronicle-Abstract ”

“ Rickerl cast a startled glance over his shoulder, where, from the thickets, a dozen franc-tireurs were springing towards him, shouting and shaking their chassepots. Something had given way—Jack saw that—for the horse started on at a trot, snorting with fright. He saw Rickerl run after him, seize the bridle, stumble, recover, and hang to the stirrup; but the horse tore away and left him running on behind, one hand grasping his naked sabre, one clutching a bit of the treacherous bridle. ”

“ Bartley tilted his chair back. “I don't know about the cleaning up. I should want to keep all my audience. If I cleaned up, the dirty fellows would go off to some one else; and the fellows that pretended to be clean would be disappointed.”
“Why don't you get Witherby to put your ideas in force?” asked Ricker, dryly.
Bartley dropped his chair to all fours, and said with a smile, “He belongs to church.”
“Ah! he has his limitations. What a pity! He has the money to establish this great moral engine of yours, and you haven't. It's a loss to civilization.” ”

“ Booted and spurred, square-shouldered and muscular [Pg 39] in his corded riding-suit, Rickerl passed the terrace again after the last adieux. The last? No, for as his heavy horse stamped out across the drive a voice murmured his name, a hand fell on his arm.
"Dorothy," he whispered, bending from his saddle.
"I love you, Ricky," she gasped.
And they say women are cowards!
He lifted her to his breast, held her crushed and panting; she put both hands before her eyes.
"There has never been any one but you; do you believe it?" he stammered. ”

“ Did you notice what happened to the boat we escaped in? Such will happen to your war planes. Who opposes us will quickly become a crisp black corpse."
"I presume," said Ricker dryly, "that you have Adison's plans. They were supposed to be able to heat a planet but your Neptune still appears cold as ever. Do you care to elaborate on this little scheme of yours?"
"Certainly." Vanger smiled like a cat in the canary's cage. "As to Neptune, you will have a personal showing in due time. As to the Adison Unit—you've seen an application of it destroy a plane in a matter of seconds. ”

“ Where are you?"
"Where are you!"
"At forty-four-five Neptune. The location you gave." His message had gotten through. They were right over him, just a hundred miles away—and they might as well be on the other side of the sun. "What's the trouble? We've been looking for you since—"
"Listen!" cried Ricker. "No time to explain. I'm trapped inside the planet—under the ice. There's a cave here. Made with Adison's Heat Unit. I've found out what's behind Molly Borden. They have ten thousand ships here, plan to attack Earth. Senator Trexel's the leader—they're coming up after me now. ”

“ I know your dinner hour. We shall expect you.”
“Better not, till I come.” Bartley knew that this was Ricker's way of accepting, and he said nothing, but he answered his next question with easy joviality. “How are you making it with old Witherby?”
“Oh, hand over hand! Witherby and I were formed for each other. By, by!”
“No, hold on! Why don't you come to the club any more?”
“We-e-ll! The club isn't what it used to be,” said Bartley, confidentially.
“Why, of course! It isn't just the thing for a gentleman moving in the select circles of Clover Street, as you do ”

“ We new men have all had our hard rubs, but we do not so much remember them in soreness or resentment as in the wish to help forward any other who is presently feeling them. If he will but help himself too, a hundred hands are stretched out to him.
Bartley had kept his head clear of the punch, but he left the club drunk with joy and pride, and so impatient to be with Marcia and tell her of his triumphs that he could hardly wait to read the proof of his boarding-house article which Ricker had put in hand at once for the Sunday edition. ”

“ We'll die."
"I know," said Molly Borden-Dorothy Adison quietly. "We'll die. It was far below zero when I went out to look for you. By now, the roof must have lowered half-way down—it's probably 200 degrees below zero out there now. But I don't mind the dying so much. It's that I've failed that hurts. Trexel got away—father is unavenged."
Ricker had forgotten about Trexel for the moment. The thought brought him to his feet and he forgot his pain. Both Trexel and Vanger must have escaped. They were up in one of the planes. They had only to melt through the ice. ”

“ The little man in the large hat continued to walk up and down, leaving his gin-sling on the counter, and drinking it between his visits to the cracker and cheese.
“What's that new piece of yours, Colonel?” he asked, after a while. “I aint seen it yet.”
“Legs, principally,” sighed the manager. “That's what the public wants. I give the public what it wants. I don't pretend to be any better than the public. Nor any worse,” he added, stroking his dog.
These ideas struck Bartley in their accordance with his own ideas of journalism, as he had propounded them to Ricker. ”

“ Ricky wondered to himself. Perhaps this boy roamed London streets unable to speak to people or to take part in the great festival which was forever there in progress. "When you got away, what would you do?" Ricky asked.
"I don't rightly know. The older men—it's easy for them—but when you haven't a trade—" He spoke with difficulty. "What are you doing with yourself, now that you're through?" he asked.
"I've been in prison four years," Ricky blurted out. ”

“ I supped last night with Rickman, and met a merry natural captain, who pleases himself vastly with once having made a pun at Otaheite in the O. language. 'Tis the same man who said Shakspeare he liked, because he was so much of the gentleman. Rickman is a man "absolute in all numbers." I think I may one day bring you acquainted, if you do not go to Tartary first; for you'll never come back. Have a care, my dear friend, of Anthropophagi! their stomachs are always craving. 'Tis terrible to be weighed out at fivepence a pound. ”

“ Rickman the student and recluse, who inhabited the insides of other men's books. Owing to his habitual converse with intellects greater—really greater—than his own, he was an exceedingly humble and reverent person. A high and stainless soul. You would never have suspected his connection with Mr. Rickman, the Junior Journalist, the obscure writer of brilliant paragraphs, a fellow destitute of reverence and decency and everything except consummate impudence, a disconcerting humour and a startling style. But he was still more distantly related to Mr. Rickman the young man about town. ”

“ Rickett pulled at his pipe with a grunt. When not at work, it was usually his rôle to sit and listen to his wife's chatter.
"She ain't been brought up in a convent," continued Mrs. Rickett. "That's plain to see. With all the gentle ways of her, she knows how to hold her own. Young Robin Green, he's gone just plumb moon-crazy over her, and it wouldn't surprise me"—Mrs. Rickett lowered her voice mysteriously—"but what some day Dick himself was to do the same." ”

“ And as he lay there, he prepared himself to act the part of the cold, abstracted, supercilious man of business, the part already too horribly familiar to him as young Mr. Rickman of Rickman's. He reflected how nearly he had wrecked his prospects in that character. He bade himself beware of woman and of drink, the two things most fatal to stability of judgement. He recalled, painfully, the events of last evening. He was not quite sure what he had done, or hadn't done; but he believed he had all but flung up the chance of securing for Rickman's the great Harden Library. ”

“ Ricky was on her knees, stretching out her hand and positively cooing. The cat put down the paw he had been licking and regarded her calmly out of round, yellow eyes. Then he returned to his washing. Val laughed.
"Evidently he is used to the strong, silent type of human, Ricky. I wonder where he belongs."
"He belongs to us now. Yes him does, doesn't him?" She attempted to touch the visitor's head. His ears went back and he showed sharp teeth in no uncertain manner.
"Better let him alone," advised Rupert. "He doesn't seem to be the kind you can cuddle." ”

“ Ricky stood at the foot of the hall staircase frowning crossly. "If he did, you'll just have to go up and get him. I will not have him walking on the beds with muddy feet. There's enough to do here without cleaning up after a lazy cat. Where's Rupert?"
Her brother put aside his note-book and got up from the couch with a lazy stretch. Ricky's early-morning energy was apt to be a little irksome and Val had not had a good night. When one lies and stares up at a ceiling, one sometimes hears strange noises which cannot be accounted for by wind or creaking boards. ”