CHAPTER X

The Adventure of Atherton

Atherton stood on the steps of the café watching Mills' departure until his friend's broad back and sturdy shoulders were swallowed up in the crowd; then, descending to the street, he strolled leisurely away in the opposite direction. But although, as he had just said to Mills, Blagden's enthusiasm had inspired him, he now concluded that it was not at this particular moment that he desired adventure, for there is a limit to human endurance, and the experiences of the day had left him exhausted both in body and mind. So that in spite of Blagden's counsel as to keeping constantly on the alert, he threaded his way through the throng absent-mindedly, his thoughts, through force of long habit, reverting instinctively to the ticker, whose sudden plunge downward had proved so ruinous to all his hopes and plans.

At length, however, as he turned aside from the main thoroughfare, he was roused from his abstraction by the sight of an automobile standing motionless at the curb, while the chauffeur cranked away manfully, but without result, and a tall, well-built man of middle age, evidently the owner of the car, stood looking on with a frown upon his brow. The whole affair was commonplace enough, and presumably Atherton would not have given it a second thought, if it had not been for the girl who stood at the man's side; but at the sight of her, her beauty and the charm of her radiant youth suddenly made him forget everything else in the world, and under the pretense of looking into a neighboring window, he lingered for the pure delight of stealing an occasional glance at her, already determined that as soon as the car took its departure he would contrive to note its number, so that he might learn its owner's name.

But a still better opportunity was to present itself, for presently there came an explosion, not from the car but from its owner. "That will do," he said crisply. "You can't run an automobile, and never could. You're discharged. Go to the garage and tell them to send for the car, and come out to-morrow for your pay and your clothes."

Without protest, and almost as if glad to escape thus easily, the chauffeur vanished around the corner, and immediately Atherton, lover and master of motors, saw the Goddess of Adventure beckoning to him alluringly. At once he stepped forward, and asked, "Beg pardon, but may I help you?"

The owner glanced at him sharply. "That depends," he retorted, "on how much you know about a car. I doubt if you could know any less than the idiot I was fool enough to hire. If you want to try, go ahead."

Without the loss of an instant Atherton began his investigations. "Spark's all right," he muttered; then, sniffing the air suspiciously, he added, "but I can smell gas; she must have sprung a leak." And inserting his hand under the carbureter, he brought it forth again, his palm dripping with gasolene. "Feed pipe," he decided, but shrewdly surmising that the owner would care more for results than for explanations, he kept his knowledge to himself, and drawing his knife from his pocket, he dropped on his knees beside the car and after a few moments' deft manipulation, rose, walked forward, and gave the crank a vigorous turn. There followed two or three spasmodic reports, after which the engine, once more receiving its normal supply of gas, settled down to work and began to whirr away in perfect and melodious rhythm. Whereupon Atherton, who by this time was beginning to find enjoyment in the situation, approached the owner of the car and touching his cap, reported, "All right, sir; she'll run now."

The owner eyed him keenly. "Good," was his brief comment; then added in a tone that was half a statement, half a query, "You're not a professional chauffeur?"

There was a moment's silence before Atherton, seized by inspiration, answered, "Well, not exactly, sir; not at present. The fact is, I'm looking for a situation."

Again the keen appraising glance, followed by question and reply.

"You're a good driver?"

"Yes, sir, I can drive a car."

"My name is Hamilton. I live near Rosecroft, about twenty miles out of town. Do you want to drive me there?"

This time Atherton did not hesitate. At once he recognized his patron's name, and became aware that here was a genuine adventure, an opportunity not to be disregarded. And accordingly, striving to adopt a tone appropriate to his new employment, he responded respectfully, "Yes, sir, I'd be glad to."

Hamilton turned to the girl. "Jump in, Helen," he said, and to Atherton, in the manner of a man thoroughly accustomed to giving orders, "Now find the nearest telephone; ring the Central Garage and tell them that I shan't need them, after all. Do it as quick as you can, and then come back here."

He stepped into the motor, and Atherton, smiling to himself, hastened to carry out the banker's orders, and then returned to the car, eager to discover what the outcome of this adventure would be, and determined to show his passengers that he had not overstated his ability as a chauffeur.

Nor did he disappoint them, although as a matter of fact he had every opportunity for producing a favorable impression. The roads were perfect, the car behaved splendidly, and aided by occasional brief instructions from Mr. Hamilton, in a little over an hour from their departure he entered the winding driveway, experienced a momentary glimpse of wide lawns, shrubbery and stately trees, and brought the car to a halt beneath the portico. Immediately the door opened, and a dark, dapper-looking little man in livery came down the steps to meet them, alertly enough, yet as it seemed to Atherton with the air of one a trifle unaccustomed to his surroundings. And that this impression was correct became evident when Mr. Hamilton, alighting, looked at the servant in some surprise and then as if suddenly recollecting said, "Oh yes, you're the new second man. Where is Martin?"

"Martin, sir," the man answered, "has retired. Shall I tell him that you are here?"

"No, never mind," answered Mr. Hamilton. "Ask the housekeeper to get us something to eat." And turning to Atherton, he added brusquely, "You said you were looking for a situation. Do you want this one?"

The question, under the circumstances, was not wholly unexpected, and Atherton, during the drive, had had ample opportunity to make up his mind as to his answer. So that now he replied promptly, "Yes, sir. Very much indeed, sir."

"Satisfactory references?" asked the banker, and Atherton, knowing a number of men upon whom he could rely, responded, "Yes, sir." Whereupon the financier, without further questioning, observed, "Very well then, you're engaged on trial." And to his daughter, "I'm going to ask Bellingham to show him to his room. By the way, what's your name?"

"Atherton, sir," answered the new chauffeur.

"Very well," said Hamilton again. "Wait here."

He disappeared within the house, but Helen Hamilton, instead of following him, remained standing on the porch, and presently, with frank approval, she remarked, "You drive a car very well indeed. Much better than the other man."

At her words, Atherton felt as if the genial warmth of his romance had suffered a sudden chill. The other man. He did not care for the term, for it made him realize that although he had obtained a foothold in the Hamilton family, he had gained it by means of the rear entrance instead of the front. He was a servant, Mr. Hamilton's man. But though at first resentful, he soon had the grace to perceive that after all his position was of his own choosing, and accordingly he answered deferentially, "I thank you, miss, very much indeed."

There followed silence, and Atherton, fearing that she would depart, was racking his brains to discover some method of prolonging the conversation, when she solved the problem for him by continuing, "I am really very glad that we met you to-night."

Immediately, Atherton felt a glow of joy, only the next instant to have his hopes again dispelled as she added, "It is an excellent chance for you. Mr. Bellingham will give you all the details, but I know that for one thing if you suit my father he always allows his chauffeurs two sets of livery free."

Atherton gazed at her, wondering if any object underlay her words. Her glance was sincerity itself; her tone seemed blandly philanthropic; yet Atherton could not make himself believe that the daughter of Marshall Hamilton would stand upon the porch of her house at midnight, discussing the terms of his employment with an unknown chauffeur. No. Even if he flattered himself unduly by the assumption, he imagined that she must have detected at least a trace of the gentleman in his demeanor, and was trying to draw him out. Yet despite his blind and adoring infatuation, he promptly decided that if this were her purpose, he would give her no satisfaction, and therefore with assumed eagerness he answered greedily, "That's very generous of him, miss. And I hope, miss, he don't object to something with a bit of life to it. A purple, miss, with a red stripe, is tasty; very rich and tasty indeed."

If she was puzzled by his reply, she did not show it, but whether at the vision of the "tasty" suit, or for some other reason, she broke forth into silvery laughter, so bewitching that the enraptured Atherton, in another moment, might have capitulated and revealed to her the secret of his identity, if the door had not opened to announce the return of Mr. Hamilton, followed by a good-looking young fellow, apparently some four or five years Atherton's senior.

"Bellingham," said the banker, "this is Atherton, who is to take Rawlings' place, temporarily at least, perhaps permanently. I wish you would show him his room, and explain to him the customary routine. Have the car ready at half past eight."

Bellingham acknowledged the introduction with a nod, jumped into the car, and they started at once for the stables. Atherton's first impression of his new acquaintance was not particularly favorable, for the secretary was evidently preoccupied and hardly spoke until he had conducted the new chauffeur to his pleasant and comfortable room in the upper portion of the stables. But here, as he lit the light and for the first time had a fair chance to see what the new arrival looked like, a sudden change came over him, and after a somewhat prolonged scrutiny he suddenly exclaimed, "Well, I may not be in a class with the well-known Mr. Holmes, but if descriptions and family resemblances count for anything, I should say the odds were about a hundred to one that you were a cousin of Billy Atherton, Princeton, '12."

It was Atherton's turn to stare. "Right you are," he answered. "Do you know Billy?"

"More or less," responded Bellingham. "We roomed together for four years."

And suddenly Atherton remembered. "What a fool I am!" he cried. "Hugh Bellingham, of course. I never thought of it. Why, I've heard about you from Billy time and again."

They stood gazing at each other, and at precisely the same moment both of them began to grin. "I suppose," said Atherton, a trifle sheepishly, "that you're wondering about this fool chauffeur business--"

But Bellingham cut him short. "My dear fellow," he rejoined, "I'm not wondering at anything. It's none of my business what you are. And as far as that goes, you have an equal right to wonder at my job; I fear it's not a very exalted one for a college graduate to hold. But we're neither of us on the witness stand. All I can say is that I'm glad you're here, and if there's anything I can do to make you comfortable, or anything I can tell you about the household, why just fire away and ask me what you please. I'm quite at your service."

There was a sincerity in his tone that Atherton appreciated. "You're mighty good," he answered, "and there are some things I'd like to know, but first, if you don't mind, I'd like to explain my being here." And forthwith, while Bellingham seated himself on the side of the bed and listened attentively, Atherton briefly recounted his misadventures in the market, his meeting with Mills and Blagden, and his subsequent search for adventure, with its most unlooked-for ending.

When he had finished, Bellingham sat for some moments in thoughtful silence before he replied, "Atherton, we're getting pretty confidential on short acquaintance, but of course it's not as though we were absolute strangers. And I want to take a liberty, and give you a piece of advice. The man who does that is usually a fool, but you will understand me better if I follow your example, and tell you just why I am in my present position. When I was a year or so older than you are now, I made the same mistake that you have just made. I went broke in the stock market, tried for over six months to land a job, and finally found employment with Mr. Hamilton, and have been here ever since. So at all events there is a bond of sympathy between us."

"By Jove, I should say so," Atherton answered, "and I imagine, if we knew the truth, we could find a long list of fellow sufferers."

"Not a doubt of it," replied the secretary, "and that leads up to what I wish to say. If you're like me, if you're like ninety-nine men out of a hundred, you'll find that after a while you'll forget your lesson, and you'll rake and scrape to get money together to go back into the game again. And what I want to urge upon you, most earnestly, is just this: Don't do it. I'm not at liberty to tell you all I know, but I can tell you this: You can't beat the game, and to go on trying is nothing more nor less than dashing your head against a wall. It's suicide in either case."

Neither his earnestness nor his good-will could be misunderstood, and Atherton was quick to respond, "I don't doubt that you're right, and I'll surely remember what you say. But I don't think I'm going to be tempted again; I believe I know when I've had enough."

The secretary was silent. Presently he rose from his seat and nervously paced up and down the room before he finally came to a halt in front of the new chauffeur.

"Atherton," he said, "doubtless you'll think I'm crazy, but I assure you that I'm not. And you can't appreciate what a godsend it is to me to have you here. I want to ask two favors of you, and I repeat that I was never more serious in my life. Do you mind letting me tell you what they are?"

The events of the day--and night--had been so many, so varied, and so nearly akin to those of a "movie show," that Atherton had reached a point where he felt really incapable of experiencing surprise at anything. And therefore he simply responded, inelegantly but heartily, "Why, sure, fire ahead."

"Then first," said the secretary, "if at any time during your stay here you think you discover anyone in the household, from Mr. Hamilton down, trying to spy upon me, either by daylight or dark, I want you to promise that you will let me know as soon as you possibly can. Are you willing to do that?"

"Of course I am," responded Atherton. "I'm afraid I'm not worth much in the detective line, but I'll keep my eyes open, and let you know if I see anything out of the ordinary. That settles number one; what's number two?"

"This," Bellingham answered. "If I had to leave very suddenly, could you give me an address in the city where I could go and stay for a little while, in case I wanted a temporary hiding-place? I mean a house where I could be sure that I could trust the occupants; the quieter the locality, the better for me."

Atherton pulled out his memorandum book, tore out a page, and scrawled Blagden's address across it. "Here's the very place," he answered. "And if I find that you've left, I'll get in touch with Blagden at once and tell him to be on the lookout for you. The neighborhood is just what you're after; old-fashioned and peaceful."

Bellingham took the paper and thrust it into his pocket. "That's fine," he said with evident relief, "and thank you for being willing to take me seriously. Perhaps some day I can explain everything to you; I might even be able to reciprocate your kindness."

Atherton smiled. "You can reciprocate right now, if you'd like to," he responded. "I'd like to ask you just one question. Is Miss Hamilton engaged to be married, or anything like that?"

Bellingham stared; then smiled in his turn. "So that's it," he rejoined. "Well, now the chauffeur business becomes clear. And I'm glad that I may relieve your mind. No, there have been plenty of applicants, but I don't think the right one has yet appeared. I believe she is still heart whole and fancy free."

Atherton heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear that," he answered, and unable to remain quiet, he leaped to his feet, and in his turn began to pace the room. "Bellingham!" he cried, "she is--she is--" but the words would not come, and his very silence bore witness to the fervor of his love.

Bellingham, in spite of his worries and anxieties, threw back his head and laughed aloud. "My dear fellow!" he cried, "you're certainly hard hit. But let me tell you this. I've known Miss Hamilton for three years, and I can testify that no finer girl ever lived. I wish you luck, Atherton, although I must say that just at present I should think you were laboring under quite a handicap."

At the thought of his poverty, Atherton's face fell, but the next moment he regained his confidence. "A handicap," he retorted, "makes a fellow do his best. If I hadn't lost my money, I should never have met Miss Hamilton; and by Jove, Bellingham, it's worth the price. I don't regret it."

At this reasoning, the secretary smiled, but he answered kindly, "Well, I think you deserve to succeed. But I'll leave you now, for it's late, and you must be tired."

They parted at the door, and Atherton, left alone, began slowly to disrobe, reflecting earnestly upon the events of the last twelve hours. "Some day," was his conclusion. "Some hectic day." And at the thought of his friends and the meeting in the restaurant, he added, half aloud, "I'll have to admit that Blagden is a wonder. 'Adventure' is certainly right."

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