The Mystery of the Locks

by E. W. Howe

A queer case, the proprietor. Instead of being useful to the hotel, as would naturally be expected, he was a detriment to it, for he did not even come to his meals when they were ready, making a special table necessary three times a day, greatly to the disgust of Mrs. Armsby, who did about everything around the place, from tending the office to superintending the kitchen; and she succeeded so well in all these particulars that occasional strangers had been known to familiarly pat her husband on the back, and congratulate him on keeping a house which was known far and near for its fine attention to guests.

Armsby did not drink, or gamble, or anything of that kind, but he owned a gun and a hunting dog, and knew exactly when the ducks appeared in the lakes, and when the shrill piping of quail might be expected in the thickets; and he was usually there, in his grotesque hunting costume, to welcome them. In addition to this he was fond of fishing, and belonged to all the lodges; so that he had little time to attend to business, even had he been inclined that way.

Mrs. Armsby regarded the men who sold powder and fishing-tackle, and encouraged the lodges, about as many another sad-hearted woman regards the liquor-sellers; and, as she went wearily about her work, had been heard to wonder whether hunting and fishing and lodge-going were not greater evils than drinking; for she had no use for her husband whatever, although he was a great deal of trouble. He never got out of bed without being called a dozen times, but when he did get up, and was finally dressed (which occupied him at least an hour) he was such a cheerful fellow, and told of his triumph at the lodge election the night before, or of his fancy shots the day before, with such good nature that he was usually forgiven. Indeed, the people found no other fault with his idleness than to good-naturedly refer to his hotel as the "Apron and Password," probably a tribute to the English way of naming houses of public entertainment; for they argued that if Mrs. Armsby could forgive her husband's faults, it was no affair of theirs; and by this name the place was known.

But he had one good habit; he was fond of his wife—not because she made the living, and allowed him to exist in idleness, but really and truly fond of her; though everyone was fond of capable Mrs. Armsby: for though she was nearly always at work, she found time to learn enough of passing events to be a fair conversationalist, and sometimes entertained the guests in the parlor by singing, accompanying herself on the piano.

It was said that as a girl Mrs. Armsby had been the favorite of a circle of rich relatives and friends, and that she spent the earlier portion of her life in a pleasant and aristocratic home; but when she found it necessary to make her own living, and support a husband besides, she went about it with apparent good nature, and was generally regarded as a very remarkable woman. She had been Annie Benton's first teacher, in addition to her regular duties, and a pupil still came to the house occasionally, only to find her making bread in the kitchen, or beds in the upper rooms.

Armsby had been out hunting, as usual, and his wife had prepared his supper with her own hands, which he was now discussing.

"There are a great many unhappy women in the world, Davy," Armsby said, looking admiringly at the contents of the plates around him, "for the reason that most husbands are mean to their wives. I wouldn't be a woman for all the money in Thompson Benton's safe; I am thankful that I am a man, if for nothing else. It is very pretty to say that any woman is so good that she can have her pick of a husband, but it is not true, for most of them marry men who are cross to them, and unfair, and thoughtless; but Mrs. Armsby has her own way here. She has a maid and a man, and I fancy she is rather a fortunate woman. Instead of being bossed around by her husband, he keeps out of the way and gives her full charge. Pull up to the table and eat something, won't you? Help yourself to the sardines."

Davy accepted the invitation, and was helping himself when Mr. Armsby said:

"You will find them mighty good; and they ought to be good, for they cost sixty cents a box—the three you have on your plate cost a dime. But they are as free as the air you breathe. Help yourself; have some more, and make it fifteen cents."

Davy concluded not to take any sardines after this, and after browsing around among the mixed pickles and goat-cheese awhile, and being told that they ought to be good, for they cost enough, he concluded that Armsby's hospitality was intended as a means of calling attention to his rich fare; for he was very particular, and in order to please him his wife always provided something for his table which was produced at no other time. There was a bottle of olives on the table, and when Davy took one of them, Armsby explained that he had imported them himself at enormous expense, although they had been really bought at one of the stores as a job lot, the proprietor having had them on hand a number of years.