it must not be supposed that in all these long conversations with miss stewart, while her father told stories turn about with the contented captain taber, c. b. ever forgot his friend for one moment. the memory of merritt had faded almost entirely, or only came now and then with a little pang of contrition that such devoted love as he had been shown by that strange man had been so little requited. had he been given to reasoning these things out he would have known that the secret of his love for captain taber was that he had been able to give himself up entirely to his service, for it will ever be found that the deepest love is that which gives itself to the beloved object. true love is self-sacrificing, not passively recipient, and so even in this beautiful journey, surrounded by all luxury and associated with so charming a personality as that of miss stewart, c. b. never for one instant wavered in his deep affection for his charge.

one night within a hundred miles of chicago they suddenly felt the flying train slow down, and then with a couple of heavy jolts come to a standstill. c. b. was with the captain at the time rendering him some personal service, and at the shock they both looked inquiringly around and at one another.

[pg 260]

“there’s something wrong,” said the captain. “i wonder what has happened?” he had hardly uttered the words when through the unnatural silence there came a faint shriek, and c. b., with one glance at his friend, rushed out into the body of the car and main saloon.

there were mr. and miss stewart seated in two armchairs with a truculent looking man clad in the picturesque garb of the cowboy standing before them holding a heavy revolver pointed at them, while both man and woman held their hands high above their heads. at the sound of c. b.’s footsteps the intruder wheeled and shouted, “stop right there,” but he spoke to the wrong individual. without an instant’s hesitation c. b. sprang at him, there was a flash, a stunning report, and a crash of glass, and there upon the floor lay the intruder with c. b. on top of him easily tearing the revolver from him with one hand, while with the other clutching his throat. at the same moment miss stewart and her father disappeared. but they returned almost instantly, each armed with a revolver, and mr. stewart bringing in addition a length of gay cord torn from the heavy curtain before his sleeping-place. with this c. b. bound the hands of the villainous-looking fellow he had captured so securely that he could not move them and looked around for another piece for the feet.

but mr. stewart said sternly, “never mind that. mary, watch him, and if he moves, shoot him. come, mr. christmas, we’ll get the others.” and at the word c. b. followed where mr. stewart led, finding in miss stewart’s apartment two more men, who caught unawares submitted to be bound as the first one had been, under cover of mr. stewart’s revolver.

[pg 261]

“now,” said mr. stewart, “we must look out for the rest of the gang, who are probably walking up and down outside. but first, out lights,” and touching a switch the whole car was immediately in darkness. but as soon as they stepped out upon the observation platform they heard a couple of shots. mr. stewart, fully cognizant of all these western tactics, carefully marked the direction of the flashes and fired there twice, sinking down at once and dragging c. b. with him.

after waiting about a minute and hearing a low groan from the darkness, he said—

“i don’t think there’s any more of ’em about, and we must go and see to the engineer and his fireman,” finding them both cruelly tied up. they released them, and mr. stewart curtly ordered them to put on all the speed they could for chicago, where explanations might be made in quiet. then turning to the car they hunted up the attendants, who they found had all been treated similarly to the engineer. they released them, and putting the captives in charge of the conductor in the baggage car they returned to their quarters, finding miss stewart still in charge of the scoundrel they had forgotten.

she was soon relieved of her watch and then, with a heightened colour, turned to c. b. and said—

“forgive me for what i said to you.”

c. b. stared at her and asked—

“what can you mean, miss stewart? how can i forgive you when you have never done me wrong?”

then the young lady bursting into tears sobbed, “oh, yes, i have. i thought you were dull, stupid, and hardened because you didn’t make a fuss, as i expected you to. and now you act like this—it’s heaping coals of fire on my head.”

[pg 262]

at this mr. stewart came along and said—

“come, my girl, get to your bed, we shall be in chicago in about an hour and you need all the rest you can get.”

she obeyed with a look full of gratitude at c. b., who stood quite bewildered at the sudden and strange march of events.

he was not relieved when mr. stewart, holding out his hand, blurted out, “mr. christmas, you’re the whitest man i know. and if you can believe me, there isn’t anything that lies in my power to do for you that i won’t do on the word. so give it a name and let me show my gratitude.”

it was then mr. stewart’s turn to feel astonished and set back, for c. b. with some dignity replied, “mr. stewart, i don’t understand you. i really haven’t done anything but what any man would have done. i can’t imagine what makes you american gentlemen and ladies try and spoil a poor man like me. surely there is nothing wonderful or strange in my behaviour, nothing that any man among you would not have done under the same circumstances.”

“my good boy,” answered mr. stewart solemnly. “of course you don’t know how your conduct appears to us, any more than we know how to regard you. i can only say that i feel very humble and ordinary alongside of a clean-souled man like you, and i know you’re worthy of any appreciation that can be tendered you. but hark, there’s the skipper’s bell, he’ll be anxious to know all about everything and you won’t tell him, but i will, whatever you say, so get along with you.” and c. b., still in a mental mist of wonder, rushed off to his charge.

captain taber was naturally in a feverish state of excitement through wonder. he had heard the[pg 263] shots and the rushing to and fro, imagined all kinds of happenings as he lay there helplessly fretting and yet ashamed of his want of confidence in the goodness of god. and now when c. b. came swiftly gliding in, his face all aglow with eagerness, a great wave of thankfulness rushed over him, and he held out both his hands, saying, “thank god you’re all right; my boy, do tell me what has happened?”

then, first having seen that the captain wanted for nothing, c. b. told him the stirring story in his own quiet, unexaggerated fashion, his simple eyes brightening and his breath coming short as he realized the danger they had all gone through and emerged triumphantly from, for their assailants were of that desperate class who value life at less than the smallest coin, are ready to dare anything in order to gratify their desire for plunder, and who in this case felt quite certain of securing a rich booty. they had lashed a huge log across the rails, and erected by its side a pole with a red light upon it, which made the engineer of the train slow up until he brought his engine butt up against the obstruction, and immediately found himself threatened by a couple of revolvers held at his face by desperate-looking men, who threatened him with instant death, unless he obeyed their command. helpless to resist, he threw up his hands while they bound him and his mate, then boarded the train itself, with the result we know.

presently, with a clanging of great bells and a hideous jolting over badly laid points, they rolled into the great station, where a little crowd of officials who were awaiting them sprang into the car as it came to a rest, and greeted mr. stewart with that mingled air of equality and deference which is so[pg 264] peculiarly characteristic of the states between employés and their employers. in a few curt sentences mr. stewart informed the new-comers of the events of the last couple of hours, and then led the way to where his prisoners were lying, glaring like trapped wolves. in a few minutes they had been removed to a patrol wagon, which rumbled off with them to prison, and then mr. stewart turned to confront a couple of night reporters, who, with the keen scent for a story that all their class in the united states are noted for, begged to be “put next” to the adventure, whatever it was.

with a grim smile mr. stewart led them to the main saloon, bade them be seated, ordered a steward to bring them refreshments, and then sent for c. b. when our friend arrived mr. stewart introduced him to the reporters as the hero of the night, assured them that he would tell them all about it and, excusing himself, disappeared.

it is impossible for me to convey any adequate idea of the contrast between c. b. and his interlocutors, whose picturesque slang, eager faces, and ravenous pencils all seemed to him so strange. he could not imagine their errand, they were equally taken aback by his calm, straight gaze and transparent simplicity. but presently, after a rapier-like question or two, one reporter said to the other: “hank, we’re up against a mighty big scoop. this hold up’s only a tail-piece, the story ahead of it’s the thing, and our friend here hain’t no idea of the height of it. now less go slow an’ take it between us an’, hold on a minute——” he darted off and got the attendants to seal up the car to any outsiders, declaring that mr. stewart would see nobody till the morning, then returned to the feast.

[pg 265]

so c. b. told his story to the reporters, who took it down with heaven knows what fantastic additions. they had never had such a lovely subject before, a man who answered all their questions straightly and simply, making no reservations. many times they paused and looked at him, feeling uncertain whether some colossal joke was not being put upon them, but were reassured in spite of their brazen scepticism, and when at last they raced off to their offices with the spoil they both felt that they had had the time of their lives.

c. b. was rather glad when they went, for he was tired, and went straight to captain taber, whom he found sleeping sweetly. and, as all the car was quiet, he too went to his comfortable bed, and, entirely unexcited by the stirring events of the day, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. when he awoke it was to have thrust into his hand by one of the car attendants two newspapers, each with flaming headlines, describing in american journalese the happenings of the past night. glancing through the two and a half columns of gush he felt his blood surge up into his head to find himself portrayed as a hero of the highest eminence, his life history sketched out, in fact all his quiet, open talk with those two guileful strangers transmogrified into something that took his breath away. and even then he was unable to grasp more than the remote fringe of the significance of those two newspaper reports; he did not dream of the millions who would read his story all over the united states and canada within the next twenty-four hours, or the fact that within a week or two the whole of the civilized world would be talking about him.

at present his feeling was one of extreme annoyance at seeing his name in print, and making a[pg 266] hurried toilet he hastened to his friend, captain taber, whom he found propped up in bed eagerly devouring the story, and occasionally chuckling with laughter as he came across some exceptionally turgid piece of description, or a sentence of such extraordinary jargon of slang that even an educated american could hardly translate it. it gave him thrills of great joy, and when he saw the face of c. b. as he stood holding the two papers before him, he laughed as c. b. had never heard him since his disaster.

when at last he had ceased c. b. said quietly, “i don’t know why you are so amused, sir, for i see you have been reading what those two men wrote from what i told them last night. i think it was very wrong of them, and i feel so ashamed of myself. i do wish i had known that they were going to print it, i wouldn’t have told them a word. besides, there’s a great deal of it that isn’t true at all. it seems that where they couldn’t remember what i told them they made up a bit to join the story together. i must say though that it is wonderful how they can have done it at all. it seems only a few minutes ago that i was talking to them and here it is all in the newspapers.”

“my dear, innocent christmas,” burst in the captain, “as i’ve so often told you, you’re too good for this world. to think how utterly out of touch with all these things, railways, telegraphs, newspapers, etc., you are. but try and see if you can what a lot of good your story will do. your life lived without effort in the sight of god has had much more influence than you ever dreamed of or would imagine, think then of the benefits that even this poor presentment of a bit of that life will confer upon millions of people who will read it. i hain’t[pg 267] afraid that you’ll get above yourself by hearing yourself praised, i know to whom you’ll give all the glory, but i do hope that you won’t refuse to see any more of these fellows, who are sure to be after you directly. and look here, if i know my countrymen, an’ i think i do a little, they’ll be lots of other folks after you to-day. you’ll be offered big money to lecture and show yourself—but i don’t think i can spare you,” and the helpless man looked upon him wistfully.

that brought c. b. to his side in a moment, saying—

“dear friend, i’ve often told you that i don’t want money, and as for making a show of myself or talking about what i’ve done the idea’s horrible. since you wish it, i’ll see the newspaper men and talk to them, but please remember that i’m not leaving you while you want me, and when i do leave you because you don’t need me any more, i’m going straight back home.”

“all right, my boy, i never had any real doubt, only the mere thought of losing you was so dreadful to my poor selfish heart. i’ve got to lean on you so that i feel i couldn’t live without you now. for to-day, anyhow, i’ll get one of the attendants to look after me; you’ll be wanted all day long by one person and another. oh me, i wish this affray had never happened; i don’t know how long we may be kept waiting——”

just then there was a firm tap at the door, and to the captain’s “come in” mr. stewart entered the room. as soon as greetings were exchanged the captain inquired eagerly—

“is this thing going to delay us long, sir? i’m so anxious to get home.”

mr. stewart’s brow contracted as he replied—

[pg 268]

“not if i can help it, captain. it wouldn’t hinder you anyhow, because you know nothing of it; but your friend’s a principal witness. still, i know how knit you are together—you can’t do without him. my influence is not here what it is in san francisco, but i’ll use what i’ve got to get the trial expedited for your sake.” then turning to c. b., he said, “well, christmas, you’ve got fame by the bucketful this morning, haven’t ye? how do you like it?”

“not a little bit, mr. stewart,” interrupted the captain; “he came in here to me this morning with his face all afire. an’ but that i don’t think he can get real angry, i believe he would have been mad with me because he found me laughing over the story. however, i’ve soothed him by telling him what a lot of good it will do, and now, i think, he’ll be quite reconciled to the next batch of reporters that comes along.”

“that’s principally what i’ve come in about, captain,” said mr. stewart. “so far, the report has been all right and there’s no harm done, but i’m a bit afraid that the gang that will surely arrive presently will try to mix up mary’s name with it, invent some fool story about her and christmas that’ll hurt us all like the devil. now, what i wanted to do was to warn you, christmas, on this one point. tell those fellows everything you can, for the more you tell ’em the less chance they’ll have to invent; but try and make ’em keep my girl’s name out of it, won’t ye?” this last almost imploringly.

c. b. drew himself up a little as he replied—

“how could i tell them anything about miss stewart beyond what has been already printed, unless i told falsehoods, invented a story like a reporter does? i know nothing, and if i did i[pg 269] should refuse to say anything about another person’s business.”

mr. stewart looked doubtfully at him as if mistrusting, not his truthfulness or honour, but his ability to prevent those reporters from turning him inside out like a glove, and gave a sigh, which captain taber noticing, made him remark, “i think, mr. stewart, that you can trust c. b.’s invincible honesty and truth to be a match for men who are so accustomed to deal with the opposite qualities that they will be hopelessly overmatched.”

at that moment an attendant knocked at the door, and entering, said—

“three gentlemen to see mr. adams.”

“all right, billy,” answered mr. stewart. “go on, my boy; we can’t do better i’m sure than leave you to yourself in this matter. i was a fool to try and interfere.” and he gave c. b. a playful push out of the door.

the attendant was waiting for him and ushered him into the main saloon, where there sat three of the most divergent types of men one could imagine. one had, in spite of his good, well-cut clothes, an air of seediness about him, want of brushing, cigar ash, up all night kind of appearance; he was a reporter. the next was obviously a parson of sorts, yet with a keen business air about him too, which rather belied his white tie. the third was the most objectionable person of the three, as far as looks went. he was gross, with a great belly and bulbous nose. his rather dirty hands were loaded with heavy rings, and a massive gold watch-chain lay across the big rotundity of his stomach. his clothes were of a violent pattern check, his broad-brimmed felt hat was worn at the back of his head, a gaudy boutonnière adorned his coat lapel, a fat[pg 270] cigar was between his purple lips, he fingered a huge roll of bills ostentatiously, and spat frequently wherever it pleased him.

as soon as c. b. appeared all three arose and extended their hands in greeting. they all began to talk at once, but the reporter, holding up his hand, said—

“gentlemen, please let’s start fair. we can’t do a thing like this. i was here first, but i’m willing to meet you any reasonable way, and i propose to shake for the first deal.” before either of the others could reply c. b. said quietly—

“are all you gentlemen reporters?”

“me every time,” answered the reporter gaily, but the other two expressed their feelings at the question by a very decided negative.

“then,” went on c. b., “i think if this gentleman,” nodding to the reporter, “will have a moment’s patience, i can promise him i will not keep him waiting long. what do you wish with me, sir?” to the parson. that gentleman said immediately—

“oh, my committee have authorized me to invite you to preach at our church in —— street to-night and incidentally tell the story of your late experiences. they are prepared to meet your views as to the honorarium, within limits, of course.”

“thank you very much,” replied c. b. “no. and you?” turning to the gross man.

“wall, i guess i’m the representative of the mammoth vaudeville syndicate of the united states, and i’m prepared to book you for a hundred nights at $100 a night to reel off that yarn of yours on the stage an’——”

“thank you,” interrupted c. b. “no.”

“and now,” turning to the reporter, and [pg 271]absolutely ignoring the other two. “i am at your service.”

the reporter gave a wicked little snigger at the two discomfited competitors and plunged into his business.

from thenceforward throughout, the whole of the time of c. b. was thus occupied, but to every other class of persons beside reporters he returned the same curt answer “no.” all, however, did not take it as the first pair had done, the photographers especially being almost painfully persistent. but, having made up his mind to a certain course of action, believing it to be right, there was no hope of turning c. b.; he was adamant, although as kind and yielding as could be in anything that he felt did not matter.

at last, as he was dismissing the fiftieth interviewer, mr. stewart came in and laying his hand upon c. b.’s shoulder said kindly—

“come on, dear boy, and have some food, you must need it. billy, if anybody else calls and wants to see mr. adams, tell them that he is engaged until 6 p.m., and that no one is to see him until then. now you understand what i mean. no one, whatever their business may be.”

“yes, sir,” replied the attendant, and c. b. left to wash his face and hands and have a comfortable meal.

it was, except for c. b., the happiest luncheon any of them had taken for a long time, for c. b.’s solemn description—he had hardly any idea of a joke—of the various demands of his visitors made them rock with laughter. especially captain taber; but miss stewart was quite sympathetic, except that she could not help smiling at the simplicity of c. b.’s supposition that the majority of[pg 272] these people would take “no” for an answer. he said—

“we were taught, ‘let your yea be yea, and nay, nay, for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil’; and yet some of these people wouldn’t believe me, though i said no as plainly as i could say it more than a dozen times.”

“ah, well,” said mr. stewart at last, “your best time is yet to come. this afternoon you are to be at the court to give evidence at the trial, and then, if i mistake not, there will be fun. hallo, what’s that?” as an attendant came hurriedly in with a dirty envelope which he handed to c. b., saying—

“i wouldn’t have brought it, sir, but the guy that give it me held a gun at me head and said if i didn’t he’d empty it into me.”

not a word was spoken as c. b. opened it and read—

“there’s a thousand dollars in gold ready for you if you say in court you never seen the prisoners before, that you don’t recognize ’em. there’s another thousand if they get acquitted through your evidence. and there’s sudden death for the hull gang of you if they get sent up. bearer waits.”

c. b. then handed the note to mr. stewart, who quietly tore it in pieces and handed the little pile to the attendant saying—

“give him that. and call simpson in.” the man disappeared and a minute later a big pleasant-looking man came in and walked up to mr. stewart, who said—

“simpson, mr. adams here has just received an offer of a thousand dollars to refuse identification, two thousand if the road agents are acquitted, and sudden death to all of us if they’re not. i’ve torn[pg 273] the note up and given it back to the man, but that doesn’t matter, of course. just attend to it, won’t ye.”

and simpson bowed and retired, while the party resumed their luncheon. but miss stewart looked grave and said little, though she looked at c. b. occasionally with keenest concern. otherwise there was no apparent change of demeanour in any of the men. and after coffee, while the two americans smoked, c. b. sat in calmest mood and meditated over the events of the morning.