Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 159, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1915 — HENDRICK’S PLACE [ARTICLE]

HENDRICK’S PLACE

He Held It Only Long Enough to Make Sure of a Better. By CLARISSA MACKIE. JCopyright, ISIS, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Evelyn Post acknowledged the respectful greeting of the tall, straight young man in the doorway. Hendrkdfxdid not look the part of chauffeUr—not exactly; he was altogether too handsome, too self-possessed, with an air of authority, that did not rest well on a servant. But his skill in driving compensated for these other faults. He had remained in the employ of Evelyn’s mother for three months and all during that time he had kept his “place." But Evelyn did not like him—she was positive of that; because he looked disconcertingly like men of her own class. It was puzzling and not at all desirable in a menial. There even were times when she found herself addressing him on terms of equality.- Of course, she always followed such a lapse by unusual haughtiness. Altogether the advice of Hendrick was rather disquieting to his young mistress. Now he stood, quietly attentive, waiting- for his morning orders. “Get the morning mail, Hendrick,” said Mrs. Post; “return and drive Miss Post over to Mill Hill.” “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Post, but the river is rising and the Mill Hill bridge is unsafe," said Hendrick. “Then go around the other way—the long road,” returned Mrs. Post. Hendrick bowed and disappeared. At eleven o’clock Hendrick returned with the car and announced that the long bridge was down in the flood and that the upper bridge could not long hold up against the waters pouring from the swollen creeks which were tributary to the river. Evelyn paused with one foot on the step of the car. “I’m sure it cannot be so bad,” she said carelessly. “You will drive over, Hendrick; Mrs. Beatty’s please.” Hendrick hesitated, almost as if he were going to demur; then he shrugged his shapely shoulders, climbed to his seat and started the car.

Evelyn found herself studying her chauffeur’s stern, clear-cut profile. HoW becoming was the neat tan livery —Hendrick was so dark—she bit her lip and stamped her foot on the rugs. She would tell her mother to discharge Hendrick in the morning. He was presumptuous! “Presumptuous? In what way?” asked her conscience. Evelyn Post knew that the chauffeur’s presumption lay in the fact that he stimulated her interest —nothing beyond that! At the foot of the slope that led to the bridge, Hendrick stopped the car and turned to Evelyn. “Do you still wish to cross the river, Miss Post?” he asked. Evelyn glanced indifferently at ths. bridge in the distance. “Certainly—drive on Hendrick.” “The bridge isn’t safe. Miss Post.” objected Hendrick, with a note of sternness in his voice. “So you said before,” returned Evelyn coldly. “Please drive on. I promised Mrs. Beatty I would be there at twelve o’clock, and it is now half past the hour.” The car glided down the hill until the front tires touched the timbers of the bridge. Evelyn glanced at the river boiling between its narrow banks. She could see that it was rising rapidly, and the wooden planks of the bridge were wet where the waters haa splashed up between them. The frail structure trembled at the first impact of the heavy car. Hendrick got down and came to the tonneau, one gauntleted hand resting on the door. “It is unsafe to take the car across the bridge. Miss Post,” said the chauffeur patiently; “it is more than unsafe —it is foolhardy. If you will walk across. I will try and take the car ovei and then pick you up on the other side.” He opened the door. “If you are afraid, Hendrick, I will drive the car myself,” said Evelyn, •with wonderful self-control. Hendrick would be discharged the instant they reached home—she would see about that. “If you are afraid, Hendrick —” Evelyn was repeating when the chauffeur leaned forward, deftly snatched her from the seat and ran across the bridge, holding her in his strong arms as if she had been a baby. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand. She hated him! The bridge swayed a little under their united weight They reached the other side and Hendrick dropped his burden and ran back to the car. He leaped to his seat and started the machine across the bridge. Evelyn, hating him with all her heart, saw the bridge quiver under the weight of the big car. She longed to cry out and send him back, but pride stilled the words on her lips. The structure sagged when the car reached the middle. There was a rending crash of timbers, and then a horrible thud from the river beneath. She saw the water boiling up through the jagged remains of the old bridge. The car and its driver had disappeared. Half mad with terror and remorse, the girl ran to the edge of the bank and looked for Hendrick. The car was visible, half balanced on the big stones beneath the bridge. But the broken Umbers of the bridge were heaped ovex it so that atee could see

no sign of the plucky chauffeur who had dared death to carry out her foolish orders. She tossed aside her veil and hat and, crawling out on the jutting end of a girder, she looked down at the fallen motor car. “Hendrick!” she called, and her voice broke into sobs. She fancied that some of the planks around the car moved; then a gloved hand was visible, then a shoulder, and at last Hendrick’s pale face looking up at her from the heaped debris. “Go back!” he ordered hoarsely. For answer Evelyn leaned over the abyss of boiling foam and stretched out a hand. "Let me help you—what can I do?” she called. "Go back!” he repeated. "I am all right.” “You can do nothing alone," she protested. “Keep perfectly quiet and I will go for help—please, please keep still and let me do something for you.” “Very well,” he agreed shortly. “Only make haste and get off that broken girder— go back cautiously, fix your eyes on shore and don’t lose your nerve.” With encouraging words he cheered her way back along the dangerous stringpiece—a way which she had bravely trod a short while before In the great fear that he was forever lost. 1 ' J.

Gaining the river'bank, she tossed her long cloak aside, * sped up the road to the top of Mill Hill, and stumbled through the gate just as Mrs. Beatty came down the drive in her smart runabout. There were hurried exclamations and questions, which Evelyn answered 1 with what calmness she could muster. Then Alice Beatty issued a few orders and in ten minutes several men were racing down the long hill to the broken bridge. Mrs. Beatty and Evelyn followed in the runabout. When they reached the bridge it was to find the flood tearing at the splintered boards. which had imprisoned Hendrick in the fallen motor car. The Beatty servants were quick-witted and trained to meet emergencies. Two of them tossed down a noosed rope to the chauffeur, who slipped it under his arms. Then, by main force they pulled. When Hendrick reached the river bank he promptly lost consciousness. Bigley, the gardener, made a hasty examination and spoke to his mistress. “He’s hurt his head, I think, ma’am. We better be taking him up to the house in the car.” Evelyn turned her head that she might not see Hendrick’s still, white face, stern even in its unconsciousness. Mrs. Beatty leaned forward eagerly, pressed back the heavy locks of brown hair and screamed: • “Why it’s Teddy! Evelyn, I thought you said it was your new chauffeur!” “Why it is—Hendrick —he has only been with us a few months. If it isn’t Hendrick —who is it, Alice?” “My cousin, Teddy Hendrickson,” sobbed Mrs. Beatty, holding Hendrick’s strong hand in both of hers. “He speculated and lost every penny he had. Father offered to help him get back on his feet again, but he refused —said he’d find some way out all by himself —he’s the pluckiest boy alive! Then Teddy disappeared and father has been looking for him high and low ever since.” Evelyn was crying bitterly as they walked back up the hill. It was several hours afterward, when the late chauffeur was lying with bandaged head in the best bedroom of the Beatty home, that Evelyn was admitted to see him. Mrs. Beatty had personally borne her cousin’s request to see Miss Post. The room was bathed in the late afternoon sunlight. Teddy Hendrickson was lying with his dark eyes fixed on the door. A glad look came into his face when Evelyn entered. For a long while they looked at each other. Then the girl’s glance wavered and fell beneath hjs ardent glance. “I’m sorry—l -cannot tell you bow sorry I am to have been the cause of your injuries. It was all my silly willfulness, and I hope you will forgive me.” “Forgive—you?” he breathed quickly. “You must have known it was a privilege to serve you.” “And I am sorry—sorry that I said — that I said you did not know your place—l didn’t understand that it was your better judgment and your courage in rising above your situation that prompted your defiance of my orders.” She held out her hand timidly and Hendrickson covered it in a warm clasp. His dark eyes looked into her blue ones with a strange significance. “I know the place I want to fill, Miss Post,” he said quietly, “and some day I will gain iL"