II
Roger awoke the following morning in a repentant mood. Slowly and painfully he marshalled the facts of the preceding evening, dim and hazy some of them, while others stood out with humiliating and alarming distinctness. And the more he analysed them, the more unpleasantly he became aware that Judith had been in deadly earnest. In his first hopelessness, he caught illogically at one faint chance. His sister's great fear seemed to be that this latest escapade might leak out. The fight had been the starting point of all her amazing change of front. Well, he could prevent it from leaking out, by swallowing his pride. Perhaps after all he had been over-hasty.
Accordingly, acting on this new resolution, Roger caught Faxon's eye as they were rising from table, and nodded.
The latter waited. Roger reddened slightly, and was silent until the others were out of earshot. Then he held out his hand.
"I'm sorry, Joe," he said manfully. "I'm a damn fool when I've got a load. I hope you'll forget anything I may have said or done."
Faxon took the extended hand a little surprisedly.
"Surest thing you know, Roger. And I'm sorry too. I struck at a sober man—you understand, don't you? I was too hasty. One forgets. He hears things—and acts before he thinks. Bad business—but it's over and we'll bury it."
"That's particularly what I want," said Wynrod, with what seemed to Faxon rather unnecessary earnestness. "Absolutely buried. I don't want it to get out at all. I can depend upon Baker...."
"And you can depend upon me," said Faxon heartily. "I won't breathe a whisper."
"Thanks." They shook hands gravely, and after an embarrassed little pause, Roger excused himself and went to hunt up his sister.
"About that stuff last night—are you still in earnest?" he asked doggedly, but not unpleasantly.
She looked at him with a curiously tender expression in her eyes, but with her jaw firmly set.
"Absolutely, Roger," she said quietly.
But the outburst she expected did not come. Instead, he looked at her quizzically and smiled.
"Well, sister, maybe there's something in what you say. I've been thinking about it. But you've set me up against an almighty hard proposition. I'm willing—but what on earth can I do?"
Judith was tremendously surprised, although she should not have been, knowing her brother's customary acquiescence in whatever she dictated. But she concealed her amazement and answered him in as matter-of-fact a way as she could muster. And Judith was by no means an inferior actress.
"Why don't you see Judge Wolcott?"
"He's a lawyer."
"I know. But he's interested in all sorts of business matters. And before he went on the bench he was a corporation lawyer. At least he could tell you who to see."
"The idea is not without merit, sister. I think I'll see the Judge on Monday. And then watch little Roger proceed to climb the dizzy heights of industry. I'll show you a thing or two about him you never guessed."
Judith's eyes filled with tears and she threw her arms about his neck. "Oh, Roger—you're fine. And I am cruel to you. I haven't any business to treat you this way. You're so much bigger than I am. You'll make a success—a great success. I know you will. And I will be so proud of you!"
The possibility was a novel one. Roger considered it carefully, for a moment. "By Jove, you will!" he cried finally. "I'll be hanged if you won't," he added with enthusiasm. He wondered why the tears seemed to well the faster in his sister's eyes.