Carmen Ariza Part 161

"So, you see," continued the girl, "that incident is closed--for all time, isn't it?"

He did not reply for some moments. Then:

"Rather odd, isn't it?" he commented, turning quite away from that subject, and glancing about, "that one with the high ideals you profess should be doing newspaper work."

"Just the contrary," she quickly returned. "There is nothing so practical as the ideal, for the ideal is the only reality."

"Well, just what, may I ask, are you trying to do here?" he continued.

"Run a newspaper on a basis of _practical_ Christianity," she answered, her eyes dancing. "Just as all business will have to be conducted some day."

He leaned back and laughed.

"It is funny, isn't it?" she said, "to the carnal mind."

The laughter abruptly ceased, and he looked keenly at her. But there was no trace of malice in her fair face as she steadily returned the look.

"Has it paid yet?" he asked in a bantering tone.

"Splendidly!" she exclaimed.

"H'm! Well, I'll wager you won't get a dollar back on your investment for years."

"A dollar! No, nor perhaps a penny! We are not measuring our profits in money!"

"And your investment--let's see," he mused, trying to draw her out.

"You've put into this thing a couple of hundred thousand, eh?"

She smiled. "I'll tell you," she said, "because money is the only measure you have for estimating the worth of our project. Mr. Hitt has put more than that amount already into the Express."

"Well! well! Quite a little for you people to lose, eh?"

"You will have to change your tone if you remain here, Mr. Ames," she answered quietly. "We talk only prosperity in this office."

"Prosperity! In the face of overwhelming debts! That's good!" he laughed.

She looked at him closely for a moment. "Debts?" she said in a low voice. "_You_ speak of debts? You who owe your fellow-men what you can never, never repay? Why, Mr. Ames, there is no man in this whole wide world, I think, who is so terribly, hopelessly in debt as you!"

"I? My dear girl! Why, I don't owe a dollar to any man!"

"No?" she queried, bending a little closer to him. "You do not owe Madam Beaubien the money you are daily filching from her? You do not owe poor Mr. Gannette the money and freedom of which you robbed him?

You do not owe anything to the thousands of miners and mill hands who have given, and still give, their lives for you? You do not owe for the life which you took from Mrs. Hawley-Crowles? You do not owe for the souls which you have debauched in your black career? For the human wreckage which lies strewn in your wake? You do not owe Mr. Haynerd for the Social Era which you stole from him?"

Ames remained rigid and quiet while the girl spoke. And when she had finished, and they sat looking squarely into each other's eyes, the silence was like that which comes between the sharp click of lightning and the crash of thunder which follows. If it had been a man who thus addressed him, Ames would have hurled him to the floor and trampled him. As it was, he rose slowly, like a black storm-cloud mounting above the horizon, and stood over the girl.

She looked up into his face dauntlessly and smiled. "Sit down," she quietly said. "I've only begun. Don't threaten, please," she continued. "It wouldn't do any good, for I am not a bit afraid of you.

Sit down."

A faint smile began to play about Ames's mouth. Then he twitched his shoulders slightly. "I--I got up," he said, with an a.s.sumption of nonchalance, "to--to read that--ah, that motto over there on the wall." He went slowly to it and, stooping, read aloud:

"Lift up the weak, and cheer the strong, Defend the truth, combat the wrong!

You'll find no scepter like the pen To hold and sway the hearts of men."

"That was written by your Eugene Field," offered the girl. "Now read the one on the opposite side. It is your _Tekel Upharsin_."

He went to the one she indicated, and read the spiritual admonition from Bryant:

"Leave the vain, low strife That makes men mad--the tug for wealth and power-- The pa.s.sions and the cares that wither life, And waste its little hour."

"Now," continued the girl, "that is only a suggestion to you of the real handwriting on the wall. I put it there purposely, knowing that some day you would come in here and read it."

Ames turned and looked at her in dumb wonder, as if she were some uncanny creature, possessed of occult powers. Then the significance of her words trickled through the portals of his thought.

"You mean, I suppose," he said, "that if I am not persuaded by the second motto I shall feel the force of the first, as it sways you, eh?"

"I mean, Mr. Ames," she replied steadily, "that the world is entering upon a new era of thought, and that your carnal views and methods belong to a day that is past. This century has no place for them; it wearies of the things you represent; you are the epitome of that evil which must have its little hour of night before the reality dawns."

He regarded her intently for some moments. "Am I to understand," he asked, "that the Express, under its new management, is about to turn muck-raker, and shovel mud at us men of wealth?"

"We are not considering the Express now, Mr. Ames," she replied. "It is I alone who am warning you."

"Do Hitt and Haynerd bring against me the charges which you voiced a moment ago? And do you intend to make the columns of your paper spicy with your comments on my character and methods? I verily believe you are declaring war!"

"We are in the business of declaring truth, Mr. Ames," she said gently. "The Express serves all people. It will not s.h.i.+eld you when you are the willing tool of evil, nor will it condone your methods at any price."

"War, eh? Very well," he replied with a bantering smile. "I came over here this noon to get the policy of your paper. I accept your challenge."

"Our challenge, Mr. Ames," she returned, "is the challenge which evil always finds in good. It is perpetual."

"Fine!" he exclaimed. "I like a good enemy, and an honest one. All right, marshal your forces. Who's your general, Hitt or Haynerd?"

"G.o.d," she answered simply.

For an instant the man was taken back. Then he recovered himself, and laughed.

"Do you know," he said, bending close to her, "I admire you _very_ much. You are a splendid little fighter. Now let's see if we can't get together on terms of peace. The world hasn't used you right, and I don't blame you for being at odds with it. I've wanted to talk with you about this for some time. The pin-headed society hens got jealous and tried to kill you. But, if you'll just say the word, I'll set you right up on the very pinnacle of social prestige here. I'll take you by the hand and lead you down through the whole crowd of 'em, and knock 'em over right and left! I'll make you the leading woman of the city; I'll back the Express; we'll make it the biggest newspaper in the country; I'll make you and your friends rich and powerful; I'll put you in the place that is rightfully yours, eh? Will you let me?"

He was bending ever nearer, and his hand closed over hers when he concluded. His eyes were looking eagerly into her face, and a smile, winning, enticing, full of meaning, played about his lips. His voice had dropped to a whisper.

Carmen returned his smile, but withdrew her hand. "I'll join you," she said, "on one condition."

"Name it!" he eagerly cried.

"That you obey me."

"Well--and what does that mean?"

"Go; sell that thou hast; and give to the poor. Then come, take up the cross, and follow--my leader."