III
They had been gone more than an hour and the other members of the party stared at them as though they were intruders. Two of the men, not too befuddled by their potations to remember that they were leaving town by a midnight train, were trying to convince Kemp that it was time to go. Tommy was explaining elaborately that there were plenty of trains; that if there was anything the city was proud of it was the frequency with which trains departed for all points of the compass.
Irene in her disgust with Kemp for exceeding the limits she had fixed for his indulgence in the prized champagne had retired to the kitchen to talk to Jerry. Hearing Trenton’s voice expostulating with Tommy she appeared, and announced that she was going home. One of the girls, overcome by champagne had retired and Irene went upstairs to see what could be done to restore her.
“Ask Jerry for some black coffee, Grace, that will fix her,” said Irene.
She confided to Grace her indignation at the young woman for not behaving herself; she was disappointed in her. A girl, she declared, shouldn’t go on a party if she hadn’t any more sense than to get drunk. However, she ministered to the young woman effectively and kindly.
Trenton got the three visiting gentlemen and the young women who had accompanied them into a machine and dispatched them to town and resumed his efforts to persuade Kemp to go home. Kemp wished to discuss with Trenton his business plans for the future. He wanted Trenton to promise to move to Indianapolis immediately to assist him in the management of his plant. Finding Trenton unwilling to commit himself Kemp fixed his attention upon Irene. He became tearful as he talked of Irene. She was the most beautiful girl in the world, and she had brightened his life; he would always be grateful to her. And now that she had grown tired of what he called their little arrangement, he wanted her to be happy. He wished Trenton and Grace to bear witness that he bore no hard feeling but wished her well. If at any time Irene needed help of any kind it would break his heart if she didn’t appeal to him.
Finding that the others were impatient at the delay these deliverances were causing he assumed an injured air and bade them take him home. They didn’t love him; nobody loved him. When finally they got him out to the big touring car he insisted that he would do the driving and this called for a long argument before he was dissuaded. He refused to enter the car at all until the others were settled in the back seat. He guessed he knew the demands of hospitality! Craig roused his ire by attempting to help him in and he waited till the chauffeur was seated and ready to start before he would move. Then he adjusted one of the disappearing seats, got in and began an ironical lecture on the instability of friendship. Some of his remarks were amusing and they encouraged him to go on feeling that so long as they manifested interest he would not revive the question of driving to the various points he had proposed as attractive places to run for breakfast. He announced suddenly that he had always wanted to visit the Tippecanoe Battle Ground and demanded an opinion from Craig as to how long it would take to drive there. He was irritated because the chauffeur professed not to know the route; he declared that he would get even with Craig for lying to him.
He became quiet presently and Trenton tried to interest him in a description of a mechanical stoker that had lately been put on the market.
“I mus’ look into it,” said Kemp. “Awfu’ nice of you to tell me ’bout it, Ward.”
Then before they knew what he was about he clutched the back of the front seat and threw one leg over. He swayed toward the driver and to steady himself grabbed the wheel.
Craig, believing Kemp wholly interested in Trenton’s talk, was caught off guard. The car, which had been running swiftly over the smooth road, swerved sharply and plunged into the deep drainage ditch that paralleled the road. As the radiator struck the further side of the ditch Kemp was thrown forward and his head crashed against the windshield with terrific force.
The three passengers on the back seat were pitched violently to the floor. Craig had shut off the motor instantly and jumped out, and when Trenton joined him in the road he was tearing off the curtains.
“Get your flash, Craig,” Trenton said. But without waiting for the light he thrust in his arms and lifted Kemp out. Irene and Grace had crawled out and stood in the road clinging to each other and hysterically demanding to know what had happened to Tommy.
Craig jerked out the seat cushions and Trenton laid Kemp upon them. The flashlight showed Kemp’s face deathly white and smeared with blood. Trenton was on his knees, his head against the stricken man’s heart. He looked up with a startled awed look and shook his head.
“God!” he said under his breath.
“Oh, Ward! Not that!” faltered Irene, “Not——”
“No—No! We must keep our heads! Craig! What’s the quickest way of getting help?”
“Ward—Oh, Tommy, Tommy!” cried Irene, dropping on her knees and taking Kemp’s head in her arms.
“Don’t Irene—don’t!” moaned Grace helplessly.
“There’s a house a quarter of a mile ahead where I can telephone,” Craig said. “I know the farmer; you can rely on him.”
“Just a minute,” said Trenton, looking at his watch. “There are things to consider. We’ve got to think of Tommy first of all. Craig, I can count on you——?”
“Yes, certainly, sir. I’m afraid it was my fault; I ought to have been watching. But I thought——”
“You were no more to blame than I was. We can’t discuss that now. We’ve got to take care of this in a way that will protect Tommy, and you girls mustn’t figure in it at all.”
“We understand all that; we’ll do anything you say, Ward,” sobbed Irene.
“I’m trying to think of some one we can trust to help,” said Trenton. “There will be many things to do immediately.”
“I wonder,” said Irene turning to Grace, “whether we could reach John Moore.”
“There’s no one better!” Grace eagerly assented. “We could telephone him at his boarding house.”
Trenton asked a few questions about Moore and began instructing Craig as to the persons he was to call by telephone; first a physician, who was also an intimate friend of the Kemps and two of Kemp’s neighbors, well known to Trenton.
“Kemp and I had been to The Shack for dinner—alone—Jerry and the cateress must be taken care of as to that. Tommy was driving home. Something went wrong with the car and it ran off into the ditch. How about that, Craig?”
“I wouldn’t say, Mr. Trenton, that Mr. Kemp was driving. The driver in such accidents is seldom hurt. We’d better say the car simply struck a stone and swerved.”
Craig hurriedly suggested possible explanations of a deflection that would ditch a car at this point.
“Yes; that’s better,” Trenton agreed.
“If the young ladies could go into town on an interurban car that would help,” said Craig. “It’s only a little way to a stop on the crossroad back yonder. There’ll be a car passing at half-past twelve.”
These matters hastily determined, Craig hurried away, the quick patter of his feet on the macadam suggesting the flight of a malevolent fate that had struck its blow and was flying from the scene.
Tommy Kemp was dead. There was no question but that he had died instantly, either from the violent blow on the head or from a failure of the heart due to the shock of his precipitation against the windshield.
No cars had passed since the accident, but as they were on a highway Trenton urged Irene and Grace to go at once.
“You mustn’t be seen here. It’s horrible enough without having you mixed up in it.”
Irene bent down and touched the quiet face, murmuring:
“It’s cruel to leave him like this! Poor boy! Poor dear Tommy!”