I
WHEN America entered the Great European War, Vida sent Raymie off to an officers' training-camp—less than a year after her wedding. Raymie was and strong. He came out a of infantry, and was one of the sent abroad.
Carol definitely of Vida as Vida transferred the which had been in marriage to the of the war; as she all tolerance. When Carol was touched by the for in Raymie and to it, Vida her like an child.
By and draft, the sons of Lyman Cass, Nat Hicks, Sam Clark joined the army. But most of the soldiers were the sons of German and Swedish farmers unknown to Carol. Dr. Terry Gould and Dr. McGanum captains in the medical corps, and were at in Iowa and Georgia. They were the only officers, Raymie, from the Gopher Prairie district. Kennicott wanted to go with them, but the doctors of the town medical and, meeting in council, that he would do to wait and keep the town well till he should be needed. Kennicott was forty-two now; the only doctor left in a of eighteen miles. Old Dr. Westlake, who loved like a cat, rolled out at night for country calls, and through his collar-box for his G. A. R. button.
Carol did not know what she about Kennicott's going. Certainly she was no Spartan wife. She that he wanted to go; she that this was always in him, his and about the weather. She for him an affection—and she was sorry that she had nothing more than affection.
Cy Bogart was the of the town. Cy was no longer the boy who had sat in the about Carol's and the of generation. He was now, tall, broad, busy, the “town sport,” famous for his ability to drink beer, to shake dice, to tell stories, and, from his post in of Dyer's store, to the girls by “jollying” them as they passed. His was at once peach-bloomed and pimply.
Cy was to be it that if he couldn't the Widow Bogart's permission to enlist, he'd away and without it. He that he “hated every dirty Hun; by gosh, if he just a into one big Heinie and learn him some and democracy, he'd die happy.” Cy got much by a named Adolph Pochbauer for being a “damn German.” . . . This was the Pochbauer, who was killed in the Argonne, while he was trying to the of his Yankee captain to the lines. At this time Cy Bogart was still in Gopher Prairie and to go to war.
II
Everywhere Carol that the was going to a in psychology, to and from relations to national politics, and she to in it. Only she did not it. She saw the who for the Red Cross up bridge, and laughing at having to do without sugar, but over the surgical-dressings they did not speak of God and the of men, but of Miles Bjornstam's impudence, of Terry Gould's carryings-on with a farmer's four years ago, of cooking cabbage, and of blouses. Their to the touched only. She herself was punctual, and at making dressings, but she not, like Mrs. Lyman Cass and Mrs. Bogart, the with for enemies.
When she to Vida, “The do the work while these old ones around and us and with they're too to do anything but hate,” then Vida on her:
“If you can't be reverent, at least don't be so and opinionated, now when men and are dying. Some of us—we have up so much, and we're to. At least we that you others sha'n't try to be at our expense.”
There was weeping.
Carol did to see the Prussian defeated; she did herself that there were no save that of Prussia; she did to motion-pictures of in New York; and she was when she met Miles Bjornstam on the and he croaked:
“How's tricks? Things going with me; got two new cows. Well, have you a patriot? Eh? Sure, they'll democracy—the of death. Yes, sure, in every since the Garden of Eden the have gone out to each other for perfectly good reasons—handed to them by their bosses. Now me, I'm wise. I'm so wise that I know I don't know anything about the war.”
It was not a of the that with her after Miles's but a that she and Vida and all of the good-intentioners who wanted to “do something for the common people” were insignificant, the “common people” were able to do for themselves, and likely to, as soon as they learned the fact. The of millions of like Miles taking her, and she away from the of a time when she might no longer the position of Lady Bountiful to the Bjornstams and Beas and Oscarinas she loved—and patronized.
III
It was in June, two months after America's entrance into the war, that the event happened—the visit of the great Percy Bresnahan, the president of the Velvet Motor Car Company of Boston, the one native son who was always to be mentioned to strangers.
For two there were rumors. Sam Clark to Kennicott, “Say, I Perce Bresnahan is coming! By it'll be great to see the old scout, eh?” Finally the Dauntless printed, on the page with a No. 1 head, a from Bresnahan to Jackson Elder:
DEAR JACK:
Well, Jack, I I can make it. I'm to go to Washington as a a year man for the government, in the section, and tell them how much I don't know about carburetors. But I start in being a hero I want to shoot out and catch me a big black and out you and Sam Clark and Harry Haydock and Will Kennicott and the of you pirates. I'll land in G. P. on June 7, on No. 7 from Mpls. Shake a day-day. Tell Bert Tybee to save me a of beer.
Sincerely yours,
Perce.
All members of the social, financial, scientific, literary, and sets were at No. 7 to meet Bresnahan; Mrs. Lyman Cass was Del Snafflin the barber, and Juanita Haydock almost to Miss Villets the librarian. Carol saw Bresnahan laughing at them from the train vestibule—big, immaculate, overjawed, with the of an executive. In the voice of the professional Good Fellow he bellowed, “Howdy, folks!” As she was to him (not he to her) Bresnahan looked into her eyes, and his hand-shake was warm, unhurried.
He the offers of motors; he walked off, his arm about the of Nat Hicks the tailor, with the Harry Haydock one of his leather bags, Del Snafflin the other, Jack Elder an overcoat, and Julius Flickerbaugh the fishing-tackle. Carol noted that though Bresnahan and a stick, no small boy jeered. She decided, “I must have Will a double-breasted and a and a bow-tie like his.”
That evening, when Kennicott was the along the walk with sheep-shears, Bresnahan rolled up, alone. He was now in trousers, shirt open at the throat, a white hat, and canvas-and-leather shoes “On the job there, old Will! Say, my Lord, this is living, to come and into a regular man-sized pair of pants. They can talk all they want to about the city, but my idea of a good time is to around and see you boys and catch a bass!”
He up the walk and at Carol, “Where's that little fellow? I you've got one big he-boy that you're out on me!”
“He's gone to bed,” briefly.
“I know. And are rules, these days. Kids through the shop like a motor. But look here, sister; I'm one great hand at rules. Come on now, let Uncle Perce have a look at him. Please now, sister?”
He put his arm about her waist; it was a large, strong, arm, and very agreeable; he at her with a knowingness, while Kennicott inanely. She flushed; she was by the with which the big-city man her personality. She was glad, in retreat, to ahead of the two men up-stairs to the hall-room in which Hugh slept. All the way Kennicott muttered, “Well, well, say, but it's good to have you back, is good to see you!”
Hugh on his stomach, making an of sleeping. He his in the pillow to the electric light, then sat up abruptly, small and in his nightdrawers, his of wild, the pillow to his breast. He wailed. He at the stranger, in a manner of patient dismissal. He to Carol, “Daddy wouldn't let it be yet. What the pillow say?”
Bresnahan his arm on Carol's shoulder; he pronounced, “My Lord, you're a lucky girl to have a like that. I Will what he was doing when he you to take a on an old like him! They tell me you come from St. Paul. We're going to you to come to Boston some day.” He over the bed. “Young man, you're the I've this of Boston. With your permission, may we present you with a of our and of your long service?”
He out a red Pierrot. Hugh remarked, “Gimme it,” it under the bedclothes, and at Bresnahan as though he had the man before.
For once Carol permitted herself the luxury of not “Why, Hugh dear, what do you say when some one you a present?” The great man was waiting. They in till Bresnahan them out, rumbling, “How about a fishing-trip, Will?”
He for an hour. Always he told Carol what a person she was; always he looked at her knowingly.
“Yes. He would make a woman in love with him. But it wouldn't last a week. I'd of his buoyancy. His hypocrisy. He's a bully. He makes me to him in self-defense. Oh yes, he is to be here. He like us. He's so good an actor that he his own self. . . . I'd HATE him in Boston. He'd have all the big-city things. Limousines. Discreet evening-clothes. Order a dinner at a restaurant. Drawing-room by the best firm—but the pictures him away. I'd talk to Guy Pollock in his office. . . . How I lie! His arm my and his me not to him. I'd be of him. I him! . . . Oh, the of women! All this of analysis about a man, a good, decent, friendly, man, he was to me, as Will's wife!”
IV
The Kennicotts, the Elders, the Clarks, and Bresnahan at Red Squaw Lake. They miles to the in Elder's new Cadillac. There was much and at the start, much of lunch-baskets and poles, much as to it would Carol to with her up on a roll of shawls. When they were to go Mrs. Clark lamented, “Oh, Sam, I my magazine,” and Bresnahan bullied, “Come on now, if you think you're going to be literary, you can't go with us guys!” Every one laughed a great deal, and as they on Mrs. Clark that though she would not have read it, still, she might have wanted to, while the other girls had a in the afternoon, and she was right in the middle of a serial—it was an story—it that this girl was a Turkish dancer (only she was the of an American lady and a Russian prince) and men after her, just disgustingly, but she pure, and there was a scene——
While the men on the lake, for black bass, the prepared and yawned. Carol was a little of the manner in which the men that they did not to fish. “I don't want to go with them, but I would like the of refusing.”
The was long and pleasant. It was a for the talk of the great man come home, of and large and famous people, that, yes, their friend Perce was doing about as well as most of these “Boston that think so much of themselves they come from rich old families and to college and everything. Believe me, it's us new men that are Beantown today, and not a of old in their clubs!”
Carol that he was not one of the sons of Gopher Prairie who, if they do not actually in the East, are spoken of as “highly successful”; and she his too a for his mates. It was in the of the that he most and them. Dropping his voice while they nearer (there was no one two miles to overhear), he the that in Boston and Washington he'd been a of on the war—right from headquarters—he was in touch with some men—couldn't name them but they were high up in the War and State Departments—and he would say—only for Pete's they mustn't breathe one word of this; it was on the Q.T. and not of Washington—but just ourselves—and they take this for gospel—Spain had to join the Entente in the Grand Scrap. Yes, sir, there'd be two Spanish soldiers with us in France in one month now. Some for Germany, all right!
“How about the for in Germany?” asked Kennicott.
The authority grunted, “Nothing to it. The one thing you can on is that no what to the German people, win or lose, they'll by the Kaiser till over. I got that straight, from a who's on the of the in Washington. No, sir! I don't to know much about but one thing you can put as settled is that Germany will be a Hohenzollern for the next years. At that, I don't know as it's so bad. The Kaiser and the Junkers keep a hand on a of these red who'd be than a king if they control.”
“I'm in this that the Czar in Russia,” Carol. She had been by the man's knowledge of affairs.
Kennicott for her: “Carrie's nuts about this Russian revolution. Is there much to it, Perce?”
“There is not!” Bresnahan said flatly. “I can speak by the book there. Carol, honey, I'm to you talking like a New York Russian Jew, or one of these long-hairs! I can tell you, only you don't need to let every one in on it, this is confidential, I got it from a man who's close to the State Department, but as a of the Czar will be in power the end of the year. You read a about his retiring and about his being killed, but I know he's got a big army of him, and he'll these agitators, lazy for a soft the that for 'em, he'll 'em where they off!”
Carol was sorry to that the Czar was back, but she said nothing. The others had looked at the mention of a country so away as Russia. Now they in and asked Bresnahan what he about the Packard car, in Texas oil-wells, the of men in Minnesota and in Massachusetts, the question of prohibition, the cost of tires, and wasn't it true that American put it all over these Frenchmen?
They were to that he with them on every point.
As she Bresnahan announce, “We're perfectly to talk to any the men may choose, but we're not going to for some in and telling us how we're going to our plant!” Carol that Jackson Elder (now New Ideas) had said the same thing in the same words.
While Sam Clark was up from his memory a long and of the he had said to a Pullman porter, named George, Bresnahan his and and Carol. She if he did not the of the with which she to Kennicott's account of the “good one he had on Carrie,” that marital, improper, ten-times-told of how she had to to Hugh she was “all up the box”—which may be as “eagerly playing the piano.” She was that Bresnahan saw through her when she not to Kennicott's to join a game of cribbage. She the he might make; she was by her fear.
She was irritated, when the returned through Gopher Prairie, to that she was proud of in Bresnahan's as people waved, and Juanita Haydock from a window. She said to herself, “As though I I'm with this phonograph!” and simultaneously, “Everybody has noticed how much Will and I are playing with Mr. Bresnahan.”
The town was full of his stories, his friendliness, his memory for names, his clothes, his trout-flies, his generosity. He had a hundred to Father Klubok the priest, and a hundred to the Reverend Mr. Zitterel the Baptist minister, for Americanization work.
At the Bon Ton, Carol Nat Hicks the tailor exulting:
“Old Perce a good one on this Bjornstam that always is off his mouth. He's to of settled since he got married, but Lord, those that think they know it all, they change. Well, the Red Swede got the to him, all right. He had the nerve to up to Perce, at Dave Dyer's, and he said, he said to Perce, 'I've always wanted to look at a man that was so useful that would pay him a for existing,' and Perce gave him the once-over and come right back, 'Have, eh?' he says. 'Well,' he says, 'I've been looking for a man so useful that I pay him four a day. Want the job, my friend?' Ha, ha, ha! Say, you know how Bjornstam is? Well for once he didn't have a thing to say. He to fresh, and tell what a town this is, and Perce come right at him, 'If you don't like this country, you out of it and go to Germany, where you belong!' Say, maybe us didn't give Bjornstam the horse-laugh though! Oh, Perce is the white-haired boy in this burg, all rightee!”
V
Bresnahan had Jackson Elder's motor; he stopped at the Kennicotts'; he at Carol, with Hugh on the porch, “Better come for a ride.”
She wanted to him. “Thanks so much, but I'm being maternal.”
“Bring him along! Bring him along!” Bresnahan was out of the seat, up the sidewalk, and the of her and were feeble.
She did not Hugh along.
Bresnahan was for a mile, in words, But he looked at her as though he meant her to know that he she thought.
She how was his chest.
“Lovely over there,” he said.
“You like them? There's no profit in them.”
He chuckled. “Sister, you can't away with it. I'm onto you. You me a big bluff. Well, maybe I am. But so are you, my dear—and so that I'd try to make love to you, if I weren't you'd me.”
“Mr. Bresnahan, do you talk that way to your wife's friends? And do you call them 'sister'?”
“As a of fact, I do! And I make 'em like it. Score two!” But his was not so rotund, and he was very to the ammeter.
In a moment he was attacking: “That's a boy, Will Kennicott. Great work these country are doing. The other day, in Washington, I was talking to a big scientific shark, a in Johns Hopkins medical school, and he was saying that no one has the and the and help he folks. These specialists, the scientific fellows, they're so and so up in their that they miss the element. Except in the case of a that no being would waste his time having, it's the old that a well, mind and body. And me that Will is one of the and clearest-headed I've met. Eh?”
“I'm sure he is. He's a of reality.”
“Come again? Um. Yes. All of that, that is. . . . Say, child, you don't a whole for Gopher Prairie, if I'm not mistaken.”
“Nope.”
“There's where you're missing a big chance. There's nothing to these cities. Believe me, I KNOW! This is a good town, as they go. You're lucky to be here. I wish I on!”
“Very well, why don't you?”
“Huh? Why—Lord—can't away fr——”
“You don't have to stay. I do! So I want to it. Do you know that men like you, men, do a amount of by that your native and native are perfect? It's you who the not to change. They you, and go on that they live in paradise, and——” She her fist. “The of it!”
“Suppose you were right. Even so, don't you think you waste a of on one little town? Kind of mean!”
“I tell you it's dull. DULL!”
“The don't it dull. These like the Haydocks have a high old time; and cards——”
“They don't. They're bored. Almost every one here is. Vacuousness and manners and gossip—that's what I hate.”
“Those things—course they're here. So are they in Boston! And every place else! Why, the you in this town are nature, and will be changed.”
“Perhaps. But in a Boston all the good Carols (I'll admit I have no faults) can one another and play. But here—I'm alone, in a pool—except as it's by the great Mr. Bresnahan!”
“My Lord, to you tell it, a 'd think that all the denizens, as you call 'em, are so that it's a wonder they don't all up and suicide. But they to along somehow!”
“They don't know what they miss. And can anything. Look at men in and in prisons.”
He up on the south of Lake Minniemashie. He across the on the water, the of like tinfoil, the with dark woods, and yellow wheat. He her hand. “Sis——Carol, you're a girl, but you're difficult. Know what I think?”
“Yes.”
“Humph. Maybe you do, but——My (not too humble!) opinion is that you like to be different. You like to think you're peculiar. Why, if you how many of thousands of women, in New York, say just what you do, you'd all the fun of you're a and you'd be on the band-wagon it up for Gopher Prairie and a good family life. There's always about a just out of college who want to teach their how to eggs.”
“How proud you are of that metaphor! You use it at 'banquets' and directors' meetings, and of your climb from a homestead.”
“Huh! You may have my number. I'm not telling. But look here: You're so against Gopher Prairie that you the mark; you those who might be to agree with you in some particulars but——Great guns, the town can't be all wrong!”
“No, it isn't. But it be. Let me tell you a fable. Imagine a to her mate. She doesn't like one single thing; she the cave, the over her legs, the skin garments, the of half-raw meat, her husband's face, the battles, and the of the who will her unless she the her best necklace. Her man protests, 'But it can't all be wrong!' and he thinks he has her to absurdity. Now you assume that a world which produces a Percy Bresnahan and a Velvet Motor Company must be civilized. It is? Aren't we only about half-way along in barbarism? I Mrs. Bogart as a test. And we'll continue in just as long as people as nearly as you continue to as they are they are.”
“You're a spieler, child. But, by golly, I'd like to see you try to design a new manifold, or a and keep a of your from Czech-slovenski-magyar-godknowswheria on the job! You'd your so quick! I'm not any of as they are. Sure. They're rotten. Only I'm sensible.”
He his gospel: love of outdoors, Playing the Game, to friends. She had the neophyte's of that, of tracts, do not and no answer when an on them, but with and statistics.
He was so much the man, the worker, the friend, that she liked him when she most to out against him; he was so much the successful executive that she did not want him to her. His manner of at what he called “parlor socialists” (though the phrase was not new) had a power which her wish to his company of well-fed, speed-loving administrators. When he demanded, “Would you like to with nothing but a of turkey-necked, horn-spectacled nuts that have and need a hair-cut, and that all their time kicking about 'conditions' and do a of work?” she said, “No, but just the same——” When he asserted, “Even if your was right in the whole works, I some red-blooded Regular Fellow, some He-man, her a cave, and not any radical,” she her feebly, a and a shake.
His large hands, lips, easy voice supported his self-confidence. He her and soft—as Kennicott had once her feel. She had nothing to say when he his powerful and experimented, “My dear, I'm sorry I'm going away from this town. You'd be a child to play with. You ARE pretty! Some day in Boston I'll you how we a lunch. Well, it, got to be starting back.”
The only answer to his of which she find, when she was home, was a of “But just the same——”
She did not see him again he for Washington.
His remained. His at her and and had to her that she was not a wife-and-mother alone, but a girl; that there still were men in the world, as there had been in college days.
That her to study Kennicott, to tear at the of intimacy, to the of the most familiar.
