Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 March 1907 — CONQUEST i CANAAN [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

CONQUEST i CANAAN

By BOOTH TARKINGTON,

Author of “Cherry." “Moniteur Beeucalre,” Ete. 7 - i • COPYRIGHT, 1905. BY HARPER O BROTHERS

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Chapter 1 Eugene Hmtrv. a Canaan 1(nd.,1 young man, who has been east to college, returns home and astounds the natives by the gorgeousness of his raiment His stepbrother. Joe Loudin, is characterized by the aged male gossips who daily assemble at the National House for argument as the good for nothing associate of doubtful characters. 11— Eugene's appearance has a pronounced effect upon Mamie Pike. whose father. Judge Pike, is the wealthiest and most prominent citizen of Canaan. Joe worships Marnie from afar. Eugene interferes in a snow tight between Joe ami ills lioidenish and very poor ?rirl friend, Ariel Taber, who Is worsted. Arel hotly resents the interference and slaps Eujrene. who sends her home. IH —Ariel, unbecomingly attired, attends Mamie Pike’s ball. IV—Joe. concealed behind some plants on the Pike veranda, watches hungrily for a glimpse of Minnie. Ariel is Ignored by most of the guests Ariel discovers Joe. aut shortly afterward, learning that her uncle, Jonas Tabor. has died suddenly, leaves. The Daily Tocsin oi the next day tells of Joe's discovery on the Pike veranda and of his pursuit and escape therefrom. It also refers to wounds in the head of himself and of Norbert Flitcroft, who detected him. Joe retires to the “Beach,” a low resort kept by his friend, Mike Sheehan, who dresses his wound.

CHAPTER VI. THE day broke with a scream of wind out of the prairies and such cloudbursts of snow that Joe could see neither bank of the river us he made his way down the big beud of Ice. The wiud struck so bitterly that how and then he stopped aud, panting and gasping, leaned his weight against It. The snow on the ground was caught up and tlew like sea spume 13 a hurricane; it swirled about him, Joining' the flakes in the air, so that it seemed to be snowing from the ground upward as much as from the sky downward. Fierce as It was, hard as It was to tight through, snow from the earth, snow from the sky, Joe was grateful for it, feeling that It veiled him, making him safer, though he trusted somewhat the change of costume he had effected at Beaver Beach. A rough workman’s cap was pulled down over his ears aud eyebrows; a knitted comforter was wound about the lower part of his face; under a ragged overcoat he wore blue overalls’ and rubber boots, aud in one of his red mittened hands he swung a tin dinner bucket. He bent his body against the wind and went on, still keeping to the back ways, until he came to the alley which passed behind his own home, where, however, he paused only for a moment to make a quick survey of the premises. A glance satisfied him; he ran to the next fence, hoisted himself wearily over it and dropped into Roger Tabor’s back yard. The place seemed empty, and he was on the point of going away when ne heard the click of the front gate and saw Ariel coming toward him. At the sound of the gate he had crouched close against the side of the house, but she saw him at once.

She stopped abruptly and, throwing the waterproof back from her head, looked at him through the driven fog of snow. One of her hands was stretched toward him involuntarily, and it was in that attitude that be long remembered her—she looked an Undine of the snow. Suddenly she ran to him, still keeping her hand outstretched until it touched his own. “How did you know me?” he said. “Know you!" was all the answer she made to that question. “Come into the house. I’ve got some coffee on the stove for you. I’ve been up and down the street waiting for you ever since it began to get light. There’s no one here.” She led him to the front door, where be stamped and shook himself. He was snow from head to foot. She wasted no time in getting him to the kitchen, where, when she had removed his overcoat, she placed him In a chair, unwound the comforter and. as carefully ns a nurse, lifted the cap from his injured head. When the strip of towel was disclosed, she stood quite still for a moment, with the cap In her hand. Then, with a broken little cry, she stooped and kissed a lock of Ids hair which escaped, discolored, beneath the bandage. “Stop that!" he commanded, horribly embarrassed. “Oh, Joe.” she cried. knew! I knew It was there, but to see it! And it's my faidt for leaving you. 1 had to go or 1 wouldn’t have—l” “Where'd you hear about It?” he asked shortly, “I haven’t been to lied,” she answered. "Grandfather and I up all night at Uncle Jonas’, and Colonel I'lltcroft came about 2 o’clock, and he told us."

“Dl<l he tell you about Norbert?" “Yes—a great deal.” She poured coffee Into a cup from a pot on the stove, brought It to him, then, placing some thin slices of bread upon a gridiron, began to toast them over the hot coals. “The colonel said that Norbert thought be wouldn’t get well,” she concluded, “and Mr. Arp said Norbert was the kind that never die, and they Lad quite an argument.” “What were you doing nt Jonas Tabor’s?” asked Joe, drinking his coffee, with a brightening eye. “We were sent for," she answered. “What for?" She toasted the bread attentively without replying, and when she decided that it was brown enough plied it on a warm plate. Thia she brought to him and, kneeling In front of him, her elbow on his knee, offered for his con-

sideration, looliliig steadfastly up at his eyes. lie began to eat ravenously. “What for?” he repeated. ”1 didn’t suppose Jonas would let you come in his house. Was be sick?” “Joe.” she said quietly, disregarding his questions—“ Joe. have you got to run away?” “Yes, I’ve got to,” he answered. “Would you have to go to prison If you stayed?" She asked this with a breathless tensity. “I’m not going to beg father to help me out,” he said determinedly. “He said he wouldn’t, and he’ll be spared the chance. He won’t mind that; nobody will care! Nobody! What does anybody care what I do?” "Now you’re thinking of Mamie!” she cried. “I can always tell. Whenever you don’t talk naturally you’re thinking of her!” He poured down the last of the coffee, growing red to the tips of his ears. “Ariel.” he said, “if I ever come back”—

"Wait.” she interrupted. “Would you have to go to prison right away 7 if they caught, you?" “Oh, it isn’t that,” he laughed sadly. “But I’m going to clear out. I’m not going to take any chances. I want to see other parts of the world, other kinds of people. I might have gone, anyhow, soon, even if it hadn’t been for last night. Don’t you ever feel that way ?” “You know I do,” she said. “I’ve told you—how often! But, Joe, Joe, you haven’t any money! You’ve got to have money to live!" “You needn’t worry about that,” returned the master of $7 genially. “I’ve saved enough to take care of me for a long time.” “Joe, please! I know it isn’t so. If you could wait just a little while—only a few weeks—only a few, Joe”— “What for?"

“I could let you have all you want. It would be such a beautiful thing for me, Joe. Oh, I know how you’d feel. You wouldn’t even let me give you that dollar I found in the street last year, but this would be only lending it to you, aud you could pay me back some time”— “Ariel!” he ex-claimed and, setting his empty cup upon the floor, took her by the shoulders and shook her till the empty plate which hnd held the toast dropped from her hand and broke into fragments. “You’ve been reading the ‘Arabian Nights!’ ’’ “No, no!” she cried vehemently. “Grandfather would give me anything. He’ll give me all the money I ask for.” “Money!” said Joe. “Which of us is wandering? Money? Roger Tabor give you money?”

“Not for awhile. A great many things have to be settled first.” “What things?” “Joe,” she asked earnestly, “do you think it’s bad of me not to feel things I ought to feel?” “No.” “Then I’m glad,” she said, and something in the wa.v she spoke made him start with pain, remembering the same words, spoken in the same tone, by another voice the night before on the veranda. “I’m glad, Joe, because 1 seemed all wrong to myself. Uncle Jonas died last night, and I haven’t been able to get sorry. Perhaps it's because I’ve been so frightened about you, but I think not, for 1 wasn’t sorry even before Colonel Flitcroft told me about you.” “Jonas Tabor dead!’’ said Joe. “Why. 1 saw him on the street yesterday!” “Yes. and I saw him just before 1 came out on the porch where you were. He was there in the hall. He and Judge Pike had been having a long talk. They’d been in some speculations together, and It had all turned out well. It's very strange, but they say now that Uncle Jonas’ heart was weak—he was an old man, you know, almost eighty—and he'd been very anxious about his money. The judge had persuaded him to risk it. and the shock of finding that he’d made a great deal suddenly”— “I’ve heard he’d had that same shock before,” said Joe, “when he sold out to your father.” “Yes, but this was different, grandfather says. He told me it was in oneof those big risky businesses that Judge Pike likes to go into. And last night It was all finished, the strain was over, and Uncle Jonas started home. His house Is only a little way from the Pikes’, you know, but he dropped down In the show at his own gate, and some people who were going by saw him fall. He was dead before grandfather got there.” She put her hand on the boy's arm, and he let It remain there. Her eyea still sought bls with a tremulous appeal. "God bless you, Ariel!” he said. “It's going to be a great thing tor you." “Yes—yes; It is.” The tears came suddenly to her eyes. “I was foolish last night, but there had been such a long time of wanting things, and now—and now grandfather and I can go”— "You’re going, too!” Joe chuckled. "It’s heartless, I suppose, but I've settled it. We’re going”— “I know,” he cried. "You’ve told me a thousand times what he’s said ten times a thousand. You’re going to Paris.”

“Paris! Ye»; that’s Jt To Paris, where he can see at last how the great ones have painted—where the others can show him! To Paris, where we can study together, where he can learn how to put the pictures he sees upon canvas, and where I” “Go on,” Joe encouraged her. “I want to hear you say it. You don’t mean that you’re going to study painting. You mean that you’re going to learn how to make such fellows as Eugene ask you to dance. Go ahead and say it.” “Yes—to learn how to dress,” she said. Joe was silent for a moment Then he rose and took the ragged overcoat from the back of his chair. “Where’s that muffler?” tie asked. She brought It from where she had placed It to dry, behind the stove. “Joe,” she said huskily, “can’t you wait till”— “Till the estate Is settled and you can coax your grandfather to”— “No, no! BUt you could go with us.” “To Paris?” “He would take you as his secretary.” “Aha!” Joe’s voice rang out gayly as he rose, refreshed by the coffee, toast and warmth she had given him. “You’ve been story reading, Ariel, like Eugene. ‘Secretary!’” “Please, Joe!” “Where’s my tin dinner pall?” He found it himself upon the table where he had set It down. “I’m going to earn a dishonest living,” he went on. “I have an engagement to take a freight at a water tank that’s a friend of mine, half a mile south of the yards. Thank God, I’m going to get away from Canaan!”

“Wait, Joe!" She caught at his sleeve. “I want you to”— He disappeared in a white whirlwind. CHAPTER VII. THE passing of Joseph from Canaan was complete. It was an evanishment for which there was neither sackcloth nor surprise, and, though there came no news of him, it cannot be said that Canaan did not hear of him, for surely it could hear itself talk. The death of Jonas Tabor and young Louden’s crime and flight incited high doings in the National House windows. Many days the sages lingered with the broken meats of morsels left over from the banquet of gossip. Very little of Joseph’s adventures and occupations during the time of his wandering is revealed to us; he always had an unwilling memory for pain and was not afterward wont to speak of those years which cut the hard lines In his face. The first account of him to reach Canaan came as directly to the windows of the National House as Mr. Arp, hastening thither from the station, satchel in hand, could bring it. This was on a September morning two years after the flight, and Eskew, it appears, had been to the state fair and had beheld many things strangely affirming his constant testimony that this unhappy world increaseth in sin; strangest of all, his meeting with our vagrant scalawag of Canaan. “Not a blame bit of doubt about it,” declared Eskew to the Incredulous conclave. “There was that Joe, and nobody else, stuck up in a little box outside a tent at the fair grounds and sellin’ tickets

to see the Spotted Wild Boy!” Yes, it was Joe Louden! Think you Mr. Arp could forget that face, those crooked eyebrows? Had Eskew tested the recognition? Had he spoken with the outcast? Had he not! Aye, but with such peculiar result that the battle of words among the sages began with a true onset of the regulars, for, according to Eskew’s narrative, when he had delivered grimly nt the boy this charge, “I know you—you’re Joe Louden!” the extraordinary reply had been made promptly and without change of countenance, “Positively no free seats!” “What’s the matter with you?” Mr. Arp whirled upon Uncle Joe Davey, who was enjoying himself by repeating at intervals the unreasonable words, “Couldn’t of be’n Joe,” without any explanation. "Why couldn't it?” shouted Eskew. “It was! Do you think my eyes are as (ur gone as yours? I saw him, I tell you. What’s more, that boy Joe ’ll turn up here again some day. You'll see if he don't. He’s a seed of trouble and Iniquity, and anything of that kind is sure to come back to Canaan!” Mr. Arp stuck to his prediction for several months. Then he began to waver and evade. By the end of the second year following Its first utterance be had formed the habit of denying that ho bad ever made it at all and,

finally having come to believe with all his heart that the prophecy had been deliberately foisted upon him andput In his dnouth by Squire Buckalew, became so sore upon the subject that even the hardiest dared not refer to it In his presence. Eskew’s story of the ticket seller was the only news of Joe Louden that came to Canaan during seven years. Another citizen of the town encountered the wanderer, however, but under circumstances so susceptible to misconception that tn a moment of Illumination he decided to let the matter rest hi a golden silence. This was Mr. Bantry, and the cause of his silence was the fact that his meeting with Joe occurred in the “Straw Cellar,” a tough New York resort, in which neither of them should have been.

CHAPTER VIH. EUGENE did not Inform Canaan or any inhabitant of his adventure of the “Straw Cellar,” nor did any hear of his meeting with his stepbrother, and after Mr. Arp’s adventure five years passed Into the Imperishable before the town heard of the wanderer again, and then it beard at first hand. Mr. Arp’s prophecy fell true, and he took it back to his ixisom again, claimed ft as his own the morning of its fulfillment. Joe Louden had come back to Canaan. The elder Louden was the first to know of his prodigal’s return. He was alone In the office of the wooden butter dish factory, of which be was the superintendent, when the young man came in unannounced. He was still pale and thin. His eyebrows had the same crook, one corner of his mouth the same droop. He was only an inch or so taller, not enough to be thought a tall man, and yet for a few moments the father did not- recognize his son, but stared at him, inquiring his business. During those few seconds of unrecognition Mr. Louden was somewhat favorably impressed with the stranger's appearance. “You don’t know me,” said Joe, smiling cheerfully. “Perhaps I’ve changed in seven years.” And he held out his hand. Then Mr. Louden knew. He tilted back in his desk chair, his mouth falling open. “Good God!” he said, not noticing the outstretched hand. “Have you come back?” Joe’s hand fell. “Yes. I’ve come back to Canaan.” Mr. Louden plainly received this as no pleasant surprise. “What for?” he asked slowly. “To practice law, father.” “What?”

“Yes,” said the young man. “There ought to be an opening here for me. I’m a graduate of as good a law school as there is in the country.” Mr. Louden leaned forward, a band on each knee, his brow deeply corrugated. “Who do you think in Canaan would put a case In your hands?” “Oh, I don’t expect to get anything Important at the start, but after awhile”— "With your reputation?” “But that’s seven years ago, and 1 suppose the tow'n's forgotten all about it and forgotten me too. So, you see, I can make a fresh start. That’s what I came back for.” “I don’t believe,” said Mr. Louden, with marked uneasiness, "that Mrs. Louden would be willing to let you live with us.”

“No,” said Joe gently. "I didn’t expect it. Well, I won’t keep you from your work. I suppose you’re pretty busy.” "Yes, I am,” responded his father promptly. “But I’ll see you again before you go. I want to give you some advice.” "I’m not going,” said Joe. "Not going to leave Canaan, I mean. Where will I find Eugene?” “At the Tocsin office; he’s the assistant editor. Judge Pike bought the Tocsin last year, and he thinks a good deal of Eugene. Don’t forget I said to come to see me again before you go.” Joe came over to the older man and held out his hand. “Shake hands, father," he said. Mr. Louden looked at him out of small implacable eyes, the steady hostility of which only his wife or the Imperious Martin Pike, his employer, could quell. He shook his head. “I don’t see any use in it,” he answered. “It wouldn’t mean anything. All my life I’ve been a hard working man and an abiding man. Before you got In trouble you never did anything you ought to. You ran with the lowest people in town, and I and all your folks were ashamed of you. I don’t see that we've got a call to be any different now.” He svi:ung round to his desk emphatically i’on .the last word, and Joe turned away and went out quietly. But it was a bright morning to which he emerged from the outer doors of the factory, and he made his way toward Main street at a lively gait. As he turned the corner opposite the National House he walked Into Mr. Eskew Arp. The old man drew back angrily. "Lord ’a’ mercy!” cried Joe heartily. “It’s Mr. Arp! I almost ran you down!” Then, as Mr. Arp made no response, but stood stock still in the way, staring at him fiercely: “Don’t you know me, Mr. Arp?” the young man asked. "I’m Joe Louden.” Eskew abruptly thrust his face close to the other’s. “No free seats!” be hissed savagely and swept across to the hotel to set his world afire. Joe looked after the Irate receding figure and watched it disappear into the Main street door of the National House. As the door closed he became aware of a mighty shadow upon the pavement and, turning, beheld a fat young man wearing upon his forehead a scar similar to his own waddling by, with eyes fixed upon him.

"How are you, Norbert?” Joe began. “Don’t you remember me? I” He came to a full stop as the fat one, thrusting out an under lip as his only token of recognition, passed balefully on. Joe proceeded slowly until he came to the Tocsin building. At the foot of the stairway leading up to the offices he hesitated for a few moments. Then he turned away and walked toward the quieter part of Main street. Most of the people he met took no notice of him, only two or three giving him second glances of half cognizance, as though he reminded them of some one they could not place, and it was not until he had come near the Pike mansion that he saw a full recognition in the eyes of one of the many whom be knew and who had known him in his boyhood in the town. A lady, turning a corner, looked up carelessly and then half stopped within a few feet of him as if startled. Joe’s cheeks went a sudden crimson, for It was the lady of his old dreams. , . As she came to her half stop of surprise, startled, he took his courage in two hands and, lifting his hat, stepped to her side. “Y'ou—you remember me?” he stammered. “Yes,” she answered, a little breathlessly. “Ah, that’s kind of you!” he cried and began to walk on with her unconsciously. “I feel like a returned ghost wandering about—lnvisible and unrecognized. So few people seem to remember me!” "I think you are wrong. I think you’ll find everybody remembers you,” she responded uneasily. “No; I’m afraid not,” he began. “I” She interrupted him. They were not far from her gate, and she saw her father standing in the yard directing a painter who was at work on one of the cast iron deer. The judge was apparently in good spirits, laughing with the workman over some jest between them, but tliat did not lessen Mamie's nervousness. “Mr. Louden,” she said in as kindly a tone as she could, “I shall have to ask you not to walk with me. My father would not like it.” Joe stopped with a jerk. “Why, I—l thought I’d go in and shake hands with him—and tell him I”Astonishment that partook of terror and of awe spread Itself Instantly upon her face. “Good gracious!” she cried. “No!” “Very well,” stild Joe humbly. “Goodby.” Joe gat him meditatively back to Main street and to the Tocsin building. This time he did not hesitate, but mounted the stairs and knocked upon the door of the assistant editor. “Oh,” said Eugene. “You’ve turned up, have you?” “I’ve come back to stay, Gene,” said Joe. Bantry dropped his book. “Exceedingly Interesting,” he said. “I suppose you’ll try to find something to do. I don’t think you could get a place here. Judge I’ike owns the Tocsin, and I greatly fear he has a prejudice against you.” “I expect he has,” Joe chuckled, somewhat sadly. “But I don’t want newspaper work. I’m going to practice law.”

"By Jove, yon have courage, my festive prodigal! Vraiment!” Joe cocked his head to one side with his old look of the friendly puppy. “You always did like to talk that noveletty way. Gene, didn’t you?” he said impersonally. Eugene’s color rose. “Have you saved up anything to starve on?” he asked crisply. “Oh, I’m not so badly off. I’ve had a salary in an office for a year, and I bad one pretty good day at the races”— “You’d better go back and have another,” said bls stepbrother. “You don't seem to comprehend your standing in Canaan.” “I’m beginning to.” Joe turned to the doer. "It’s funny, too, in a way. Well, I won't keep you any longer. I

just stopped in to say good day.” He paused, faltering. “All right, all right,” Eugene said, briskly. “And, by the way, 1 haven’t mentioned that I saw you in New York.” "Oh, I didn’t suppose that you would." » “And you needn’t say anything about It. I fancy.” “I don’t think,” said Joe—“l don’t think that you need be afraid I’ll du that. Goodby.” “Be sure to shut the door, please. It's rather noisy with it open. Goodby.” Eugene waved his hand and sank back upon the divan. Joe went across the street to the National House. The sages fell as silent as if he had been Martin Bike. Joe bad begun to write his name in the register. “My trunk is still at the station,” he said. “I’ll give you my check to send down for it.” “Excuse me,” said the clerk. “We have no rooms.” “What?" cried Joe Innocently. He looked up into the condensed eyes of Mr. Brown. “Oh,” he said, “I see.” Deathly silence followed him to the door, but as It clostkl behind him he heard the outbreak of the sages like a tidal wave striking a dump heap of tin cans. Two hours later be descended from an evil ark of a cab at the corral attached to Beaver Beach and followed the path through the marsh to the crumbling pier. A red bearded man was seated on a plank by the water edge fishing. “Mike,” said Joe, "have you got room for me? Can you take me in for a few days, until I find a place in town where they'll let me stay?” The red bearded man rose slowly, pushed back his hat and stared hard at the wanderer; then he uttered a howl of joy and seized the other’s hands in his and shook them wildly. “Glory lie on high!” he shouted. “It's Joe Louden come back! We never

knew how we missed ye till ye’d gone! Place fer ye! Can I find it? There ain’t a Imp o' perdition in town, includin’ myself, that wouldn’t kill me if I couldn’t! Ye’ll have old Maggie’s room, my own aunt’s. Ye remember how she used to dance? Ha, ha! She’s been burnin’ below these four years! And we’ll have the celebration of yer return this night There’ll be many of ’em will come when they hear ye’re back In Canaan! We’ll all hope ye’re goln’ to stay awhile!” (TO BS COMTIMUao.I

"There was that Joe, and nobody else, stuck up in a little box outside a tent.”

“Excuse me,” said the clerk. “We have no rooms."