Quill's Window

by George Barr McCutcheon

"You must find out as quickly as possible, Addison. We would never forgive ourselves if we allowed Alix to—"

"Don't you worry! It won't take long to get a line on him. I'd telegraph if I were sure of the addresses. I ought to hear in three or four days, a week at the outside. Of course, he talks very convincingly. That's what floors me. But, on the other hand, he's too darned convincing. First of all, he called me Captain Blythe all the time. That isn't done by fellows in the know. I'm just plain Mister these days. He was rather hazy about the places I know all about, and tremendously clear about places I've never even heard of,—the places around Pont-a-Mousson, I mean. He actually looked suspicious of me when I said I didn't know where they were. And he mentioned a lot of men that I am dead sure never were up at Pont-a-Mousson,—either before or after I was there. Names I had never heard before in my life. And, confound it, the way he lifted his eyebrows made me feel for a minute or two that I hadn't been there myself. He says that since his injury and his sicknesses his memory isn't the best, but when I spoke of some of the fellows who were there with me, he remembered them perfectly. Didn't know them well, because he wasn't with the bunch very long, it seems. When I remarked that he must see a good bit of the chaps who live in New York City, he told me he had been sick ever since he came home from England and hadn't seen one of the crowd. He said he knew Pottle, and Fay, and Tyler, Sudbery and several others,—so I'm going to write to all of them tomorrow."

"It would be terrible, Addy, if she were to—"

"Mind you, old girl, I'm not saying this fellow isn't square," he interrupted. "He may be all he says he is. He's got me guessing, that's all."

"She says he has the croix de guerre and a D. S. medal."

He looked at her pityingly. "I've got a couple of Iron Crosses, old dear, but that doesn't mean I had 'em pinned on me by a Boche general. I've also got a German helmet, but I got it the same way I got the Crosses,—off of a German whose eyes were closed. Anyhow, I'd like to see his medals. Has Alix seen them?"

"His mother has them in New York," she replied. She stared into the fire for a moment or two and then turned to him, a look of deep concern in her eyes. "I think Alix is in love with him, Addy. She isn't herself at all. She is distrait. Twice this afternoon she has asked me if I didn't want to walk down into the village,—to the postoffice or the library. What she really wanted to do was to walk past the place where he lives. Oh, I know the symptoms. I've had them myself,—when I was younger than I am now. We don't do the things at thirty-two that we did at twenty-four. She is the dearest, finest girl I've ever known, Addy. We must not let anything happen to her."

He shook his head slowly. "If she is really in love with him, there's nothing we can do. The saying that 'there's no fool like an old fool' isn't in it with 'there's no fool like a woman in love.' Look at Isabel Harrington. Wasn't she supposed to be as sensible as they make 'em? And didn't everybody she knew tell her what kind of a man he was? Did it do any good?"

"She knew he gambled,—and drank—and he WAS a fascinating chap, Addy. You'll admit that."

"You bet I admit it. It was certainly proved when those other women turned up with marriage certificates, and old Mrs. Mason jumped into the scrimmage and had him arrested for swindling her out of thirty-five thousand dollars, and the New York police came along with a warrant for—"