Chapter 16

Despair

The days that followed the convention were like a dream to Danvers when he remembered them afterwards. He had scarcely picked up the old life at Fort Benton--looked over his cattle and gone over his neglected correspondence, when a telegram from the old doctor recalled him to Helena.

Arthur Latimer's tragedy had come, and Danvers, unfamiliar with death, knew no words of consolation for the father bereft of his firstborn. A numbness mercifully comes during those first hours, which makes it possible to move about and go through strange, meaningless ceremonies with a calm that surprises those who have not known the searing touch of the death angel.

A few days later he and the doctor were back at Fort Benton again, and life moved on as before. Only there was always the memory of Latimer's drawn face that no laddie's voice would lighten, no little hand caress.

The doctor hoped that the political campaign would occupy his thoughts for the present, but when the election went against Latimer he shook his head.

"Read this letter," he said to Danvers one evening. "It came to-day, and I should have sent for you if I hadn't felt so certain you would drop in. You're the one to go."

It was a letter from Winifred, and Danvers felt a peculiar sensation of satisfaction in seeing her handwriting, as if it gave him an added bond to their friendship.

But he forgot Winifred in his anxiety over the message her letter conveyed.

_"I wish that you or Mr. Danvers could come to Helena," she wrote. "Judge Latimer is so changed since little Arthur's death that we sometimes fear for his reason. Since the election has gone against him there is no direct interest to take his attention and he has sunk into a deep melancholy. You could rouse him as no one else could. Please come--one or both of you."_

Danvers read no further, but looked up to catch the doctor's eye. He nodded. "All right, doctor. I'll go to-night."

His heart was drawn still more closely to the stricken man. He longed to bring back to that sad face the smile that he remembered on the _Far West_, when Latimer's buoyancy had been like wine to his lonely heart. He felt confident that the friendship of one man for another could reach the heart of his friend, now closing against all human sympathy.

It was noon before Danvers reached Helena and made his way to Judge Latimer's residence. He was startled by the absence of life, the silence and drawn shades. Turning, he saw Miss Blair entering her own gate.

"I'm so glad you've come!" cried the girl, with unaffected pleasure, as he hastened towards her. "But didn't you know that the Latimers had gone to the hotel for the winter?"

Danvers had not known.

"Come in and have lunch with Charlie and me," she urged; "it will be ready in just a minute. Charlie will be here soon and will want to congratulate you on your majority."

"But Arthur--I feel I must get to him."

"Come in and telephone. He has opened offices down town and you may find him there. I call up Eva every morning, but Judge Latimer is out a great deal."

While she was speaking Danvers had followed her into the house. It was a homelike room; a canary's trill greeted them, and a glimpse of old-fashioned plants in the bay-window wakened memories of English homes. How different it was from his rooms at Fort Benton!

Winifred smiled brightly as she made him at home, and excused herself for a moment.

"And how is Judge Latimer?" questioned Danvers, as she reappeared from the dining-room with a big apron, which she fastened about her waist in a most businesslike manner.

"He needs cheering--needs loving! With the old routine of office suddenly lacking, and little Arthur gone, the man is lost--aimless. There seems to be nothing worth while--nothing to keep him with us! And there are other troubles--I don't understand them myself, but you will know how to help him. I'm so glad you have come!" she repeated, with a warmth that made his heart beat faster. What would it be like to find such a welcome for his own sake--and every night when he came home!

"Did you 'phone the office?" The words recalled him.

"Yes. He is down in the valley; the clerk didn't know when he would return."

"We won't wait for Charlie. He's often late, and I know you are anxious to find the judge."

After a few minutes' absence Winifred announced that luncheon was ready. As Philip held the curtains for her to precede him to the dining-room he looked longingly at the sweet-scented blossoms in the window.

"I have seen nothing more delightful in years," he explained. "I am old-fashioned enough not to care for palms or rubber plants."

"Another bond of friendship," smiled Winifred, lightly. "Shall I make the salad dressing, or would you prefer to mix it yourself?" she asked, after she had persuaded him to take the head of the table.

"I make a dressing that is the despair of my friends," she continued. "So I make them shut their eyes when I mix it, else my one accomplishment would be mine no longer."

Philip promised, with a smile, to "play fair." He delighted in the housewifely nonsense, and ate the salad, though he hated olive oil. "Salads are a woman's folly," he had once said. But he did not repeat it.

"How do you like it?" Her mood suited the visitor. The light conversation took his mind from the more serious purpose of his visit, and Winifred's accent implied accepted friendship. He needed this relaxation.

"I never cared for salads, before," he replied truthfully.

"Why did you eat it?"

"I ate it, and I liked it because you made it for me. I am not used to being waited upon, and I rather like the experience."

"You poor man!" Winifred sympathized without reflection. "It must be horrid not to have anyone to do things for you. I should think--I mean----" she colored as she met Philip's eyes, "I mean--Charlie says that I have spoiled him completely."

The advent of Blair relieved the girl from her condition of fragmentary speech, and they talked of the Latimers and the political outlook for the coming winter.

Danvers took his leave with a feeling of regret at parting from unexpectedly congenial friends. How little he had known of Blair--the good fellow. How cheery and unaffected Winifred was! The years were bridged which had separated him from his kind, and as he walked down the street he felt a glow of kindness toward all the world.

He called at the hotel, thinking Latimer might have returned, but Mrs. Latimer pettishly denied any knowledge of his whereabouts. He often went for long walks, she said, and seldom returned until late. "Won't you stay until he returns?" she invited, but Danvers pleaded business.

Twice during the afternoon Danvers ran up to the judge's office, but failed to find him until evening. Seeing a light in the inner office, he opened the door and entered.

The judge did not look up. He sat with his back to the door, and gazed intently at a revolver, while his hand played idly with the trigger.

Danvers stepped forward and silently reached for the weapon.

"No, no, Arthur! Not that!"

"Phil! You?" Latimer sprang from his chair. "Why--why----"

Danvers was shocked at the haggard face.

"I ran up from Fort Benton, Arthur, just to see you. I've been looking for you all the afternoon." He gently pushed the trembling man back into his chair.

"Why--why did you stop me? It would have been over--now--if----"

"Life is not so bad as that, old friend."

"Isn't it?" bitterly. "If you----"

"I can understand--I know. But you must promise me that you will not attempt this--again." Danvers spoke firmly, feeling that he could never leave his friend if he were not given a pledge.

The broken man looked into the kind eyes opposite. "You think me a coward, don't you? I promise."

"No," refuted Danvers, warmly. "You are worn out, mentally and physically; that is all. Take a run to the coast with me for a month or two----"

Latimer began to laugh, mirthlessly. "I couldn't take a run to Fort Benton, Phil. I haven't a dollar--not a dollar. I'm a ruined man!"

"Arthur!"

Latimer took a paper-knife and checked off his sentence. His voice was impersonal.

"You made a mistake, Phil, when you interrupted me. No, do not speak," he raised his hand. "I was in possession of what sanity I've had since Arthur----" He did not complete the sentence. "I've deliberately decided that a quick shot was the only solution of my problem. Boy gone; home gone; my dearest ambition frustrated; hopelessly in debt----"

"I can help you in that."

"And disbarment proceedings about to be instituted," finished Latimer.

"What!" ejaculated Danvers. "Who will institute them? On what grounds?"

"Burroughs. He has trumped up some infamous charge. I got a hint of it only this morning--a straight tip."

"He shall not do it! I shall have something to say to him--to the papers. He would not like to have them get hold of Moore's interviews with you and me on the matter of that Supreme Court decision. I----"

"Papers!" Latimer threw out his hands with a helpless gesture. "Burroughs _owns_ every paper in the State!"

"Well, then, I have another card to play. You leave this matter to me. You are not going under, and you are not going to--die--not yet! Bob will drop the disbarment proceedings, I promise you; and if he is not amenable to reason--why--he does not own the Associated Press!" grimly.

"N-no. But I'm broke--ruined."

"What do you think a friend is for, Arthur?" said Danvers, reproachfully. "If I had had any idea that financial matters were troubling you, I would have fixed you out in short order!"

"I can't accept favors."

"Favors!" slightingly, to cover his feeling. "I shall be a Shylock--never you fear!" Then a hand, heavy with love, fell on Latimer's shoulder. "What is mine is yours, Arthur."

Within a week, not only were the judge's difficulties relieved, but the proposed disbarment proceedings were dropped.

"I had means," said Danvers, sternly, when pressed for details by the grateful judge, and none but Burroughs ever knew of the threatened exposure.

Before Danvers returned to Fort Benton, he had the pleasure of seeing Judge Latimer off for the East on legal work and knew that his low mental condition was replaced by a more healthy one. Mrs. Latimer he avoided. The gratitude of Winifred Blair came as a surprise, and strengthened their sympathy in this common cause. He called to say good-bye, but found her not at home, and he left Helena with a distinct feeling of disappointment.

* * * * *

The state election in November gave Danvers a handsome majority, and it was as the senator from Chouteau County that, early in the new year, he attended the governor's reception to the legislators. He came in late, and after paying his respects to the governor and his wife, wandered rather helplessly toward the hall, seeing many whom he knew, but finding little pleasure in their casual greetings.

Mr. and Mrs. Burroughs, as well as the Hon. William Moore, had come from Butte to attend the brilliant society function. Other acquaintances who now lived at the capital were among the guests whom Danvers recognized. His sister he seldom saw, and the lack of any common interest between them made it possible to meet her husband in only the most formal way.

Presently he saw Winifred Blair at the salad table, who, chancing to look up from her task, smiled invitingly.

"May I not serve you with salad?" she asked, as he approached.

"If you will make the dressing," recalling their lunch of the late summer.

"It is already dressed," laughed the girl.

"Then you will let me get you some punch; come with me for it."

She was perishing of thirst (by her own statement), and Danvers finding some one to take her place for a time, discovered a quiet corner of the library past which swept the tide of callers. Hither he enticed Miss Blair, and soon brought the refreshing drink. She sank on the window couch.

"How nice to be looked after," she said, gratefully. "I believe that you knew I was tired of the silly things one must say to men whom one never expects--or wants--to meet again."

"Never say silly things to me or I shall think I am in the category."

"Very well, I will not. I've always had to be to other people what they wanted me to be--what they expected. Somehow, with you--I am myself."

"You could not pay me a higher compliment."

For some minutes they chatted of the coming assembly and then wandered to the discussion of a book which denied love to be the greatest thing in the world. By that instinct which prompts men and women to talk of this one subject they enlarged on the topic, impersonally at first, as if it were a matter of the price of cattle.

"Then you do believe in the great passion?"

"Certainly; don't you?"

"I used to think that I did--years ago. But one sees the counterfeit so often."

"There could be no counterfeit unless the real existed."

"You are right. The real is so rare, then, that one despairs of knowing it." The subject grew more personal. "But we all want the genuine."

"I don't care for paste diamonds myself, no matter how well they imitate."

"You have had opportunity to discriminate?" tentatively.

"I--think so," Winifred replied, reflectively, as if he had asked whether she liked cucumbers, and his face clouded, for no reason. "Vicarious experience," she added, mischievously.

"Oh!"

"I have admired men; liked a few immensely," she admitted, frankly. "But the mysterious glow which comes--it has never enveloped me," she ended abruptly. "Since we are getting so personal, how about yourself?"

"I----" he hesitated.

"You needn't finish!" Winifred nodded, laughing. "Other men swear by the little god that they have never loved--never--until----" Once more Winifred found her facile tongue had led her into difficulties.

"Other men lie--I do not; yet you evidently do not believe me."

"Yes, I do! That is what I so like about you. People believe you, trust you, know where you are to be found."

"I know no other way," replied the Senator. "It is no merit. I simply find it awkward and inconvenient to prevaricate."

"You are to be congratulated," murmured the girl, ransacking her memory for another man who could say as much.

An eddy of the flowing stream of guests brought Mrs. Burroughs towards them. Mrs. Latimer, too, came into the deep window space, the ladies talking animatedly.

"Am I not right, Winnie?" appealed Mrs. Latimer, after the felicitations of the day had been exchanged. "I say that a woman has never had a love affair worthy of the name who hasn't had a lover called 'Jack.' Jack--the care-free; Jack--the debonair; Jack--the dare-devil! It's all in the name, Jack."

"Alas!" moaned Winifred, entering into the gay spirit of the moment. "Alack, woe is me! That I must confess my poverty before woman"--she glanced at Danvers--"and man! I've had lovers of many names--Henry and Jim and--and--Bi----" she seemed out of names--"and of many hues--Brown and Green and Black; but never a Jack for me!"

"If you haven't had an adorer by that name," laughed Mrs. Latimer, "it's because no man in the state answers to the name of Jack!" They all joined in the merriment, to Winifred's confusion.

"'Thou, too, Brutus!'" she quoted reproachfully. "What will Senator Danvers think of me, with such a reputation as you give."

"Suppose I have my name changed," suggested Danvers.

"Philip suits you very well," Miss Blair answered, sedately. "You intimated a few minutes ago that you were rather inexperienced," she went on daringly. "If this winter you will try for such a reputation as Mrs. Latimer gave me, I'll agree to meet you on the field of battle." As she concluded the doctor came up and the joke was explained to him. He turned to the Senator.

"_You're_ too old to have your name changed, or to affect the tender passion, Phil. Leave that to younger men--to me! I'll have my name changed to Jack, right away; and as for loving, I have always loved thee!" bowing to Winifred.

A chorus of shrieks greeted the doctor's declaration.

"No," insisted Philip, when his voice could be heard, "I am going to enter the lists, inexperienced as I am."

The challenge in his eyes was good to see, but Winifred could not meet them. Delighted at the sight, the doctor changed the subject, and soon the group broke up.

As Danvers greeted others, he noticed Eva Latimer in earnest conversation with Mr. William Moore. He bowed in passing, but their lowered voices paused only long enough for the conventional greeting.

After making the round of the parlors, Danvers found the doctor and soon afterward they returned to their hotel.