They parted at the door, and Atherton, left alone, began slowly to disrobe, reflecting earnestly upon the events of the last twelve hours. "Some day," was his conclusion. "Some hectic day." And at the thought of his friends and the meeting in the restaurant, he added, half aloud, "I'll have to admit that Blagden is a wonder. 'Adventure' is certainly right."
CHAPTER XI
[A Fresh Start]
"But I shouldn't think," said Helen, "that you would be satisfied to remain a chauffeur. There's no future in it; it's only rather an easy way of earning a living."
Atherton was silent. He had risen early and thoroughly overhauled his engine, and on his appearance at the house had discovered, to his delight, that Helen had decided to accompany her father on his trip to town. They had left Mr. Hamilton at his office, and after making some purchases in the shopping district, Helen had taken her place beside him on the front seat of the car, and they had started for home.
Quite evidently, thought Atherton, feminine curiosity was still unsatisfied. She had begun, with the elaborate and obvious artifice of the sex, to talk on general subjects, gradually, however, narrowing the scope of the conversation until it had centered upon Atherton himself. But while, on the one hand, she had the advantage, by thus taking the offensive, of being able to direct the talk as she pleased, Atherton, on the other, through his inferior social position and through the necessity of managing the car, was able to present a strong defence, and contrived, by answering her queries either in monosyllables or with evasion, to leave her as much in the dark as ever.
To this course he had steadily adhered, for while he had no real objection to telling her the true state of affairs, yet he feared that if he did so she might repeat the story to her father, and that Marshall Hamilton might regard his past with disfavor and forthwith give him his discharge. And this was the last thing Atherton desired, for with the coming of morning he had grown each moment more eager to retain his "job." In the first place, after his long sojourn in the city, his surroundings themselves delighted him. The song of birds which had awakened him, the fresh, pure air, the radiant sunlight, the soft green of the fields, all the sights and sounds of the country seemed to refresh and reinvigorate him. Then, too, there was his acquaintance with Bellingham, and a natural curiosity regarding the mystery which surrounded the secretary's actions and the strange requests which he had made. And finally there was the novelty of the whole situation; the charm of feeling himself disguised, of playing a part, put him on his mettle to do it well, and the ordeal of breakfast below stairs, with the august Martin presiding at the head of the table had kept him on the alert in his anxiety neither to overdo nor underdo the role of chauffeur. There was distinctly a spice of excitement about the whole affair; he was still young enough to enjoy it as a "lark." A pretty housemaid had made admiring eyes at him; less pleasantly, he had imagined that once or twice he had detected Jenkins, the new second man, eyeing him with concealed but deliberate scrutiny. On the whole, it seemed to him that he had acquitted himself well, and thus he still had courage, even with so charming a cross-examiner, to continue to enact the part of Atherton the self-satisfied chauffeur, and not of Atherton the gentleman in adversity. And accordingly, after thoughtful consideration of her remark, he answered perversely, "Well, miss, there's many advantages to a chauffeur's job. It's apt to be steady, and it's considered very genteel, miss; very genteel, indeed."
The girl's expression, he thought, showed disappointment at his reply, but before she could answer they swept around a turn in the winding road, and the beauty of the scene before them was sufficient to make them, for the moment, oblivious of all else. A broad blue stream of troubled water, fed by many a clear and sparkling mountain brook, rushed headlong down the valley, its whirling eddies gleaming with the silver of dashing spray and the gold of dancing sunbeams. Above the bridge which lay in their path the river was wide and comparatively shallow, but below the bridge the banks narrowed sharply; the water deepened; and a couple of hundred yards further down went roaring and booming over the falls which furnished power for the mill whose machinery hummed and whirred beside the eddies of the foam-flecked pool. And to complete the picture's charm, in the middle of the bridge a boy leaned against the railing, casting his line into the stream below, while by his side two little girls romped and played with a half-grown puppy of some nondescript breed which wriggled and leaped and whirled hither and thither, in pure delight at being alive to enjoy the wonders of such a delightful and interesting world.
To avoid all chances of injury, Atherton brought the car down to a snail's pace, and thus they crossed the bridge in safety, but as the wheels of the motor struck the road upon the further side he heard behind him a sharp and terrified yelp from the dog, followed almost simultaneously by a shrill cry of anguish from his playmates. Instantly Atherton's hand was on the brake; the car jerked jarringly to a standstill; and in another second he had leaped out and had regained the middle of the bridge.
What had happened was only too evident. The puppy, in the course of his mad gyrations, had approached too nearly the edge of the bridge, had lost his balance, fallen, and was now being swept rapidly away down stream. For the little girls, it was plain that the end of their world had come; after their first instinctive cry, they stood motionless, with parted lips, their faces white and rigid with grief and terror. There was no time for reasoning or for counting the cost; no time for anything but instant action; and with the speed of lightning Atherton stripped off his coat, poised for an infinitesimal moment, and then plunged, head foremost, into the flood. The impetus of his dive carried him under, but as he came to the surface and shook the water from his eyes he saw that his aim had been true, for the puppy was only a few feet away from him, its head just visible above the rush of the waves, as it battled valiantly, but vainly, for its life. A couple of quick strokes and Atherton had grasped it with his left hand, and thanking fortune that he could use the English side stroke, he struck out as best he could with his unencumbered arm. Nor did he save his strength, since a quick glance above and below showed him that his task would be no easy one, for the speed of the current was tremendous, and already the bridge seemed far away, and the brink of the falls loomed ominously near. Yet on the other hand the stream was narrow, and once freed from the burden of the dog, he could have reached the shore in a dozen powerful strokes. But as it was, with his left arm useless, it was hard to keep his head and shoulders clear of the water, and half blinded, he struggled on, never dreaming of releasing his hold upon the puppy, but fully conscious that at best it was going to be a case of touch and go. The seconds passed, the roar below him grew louder, and at length, taking time for one quick glance, he saw that the falls were less than fifty feet away, and that just at their brink, before the downward rush of the river began, a jagged rock jutted out from the shore into the stream. Here, then, was his chance, though but a slim one, for swimming is one of the most taxing exercises in the world, and his long hours beside the ticker had softened him and relaxed his muscles so that now, just when he needed it most, his lack of condition told upon him and began steadily to wear him down. And thus, summoning every remaining ounce of energy, he lashed through the water until as though through a mist he saw the rock come into view just below him. One stroke more and it was abreast--the boom of the falls deafened him--he choked, gasped--now his moment had come--he reached desperately for the rock, grasped it only to have his clutch torn loose--he had missed it, his chance was gone--he had lost his fight--