Red and Black

by Grace S. Richmond

Jane hung up the receiver with a heavy heart. Perhaps her imagination was running away with her—she hoped it was. But the conviction grew upon her that part, if not all, of her supposition was likely to prove true. Fanny Fitch might be quite above the kind of thing Jane was imputing to her; it might be that Cary himself, aware of the danger to his whole future of one false step now, would be too thoroughly on his guard to take one smallest chance. Hotel lobbies and cafés were always the meeting places of newspaper men; he might easily be recognized by some man who knew that he was upon probation; Cary understood this perfectly; he would take care to run no risk. Would he?

Jane looked up the train schedule. Then she dressed carefully, locked the shop, took the earliest train which would get her to town, and tried to make plans on the way. As to just what she meant to do she was not clear. If no other way presented she felt that she must get hold of Fanny herself and warn her of Cary’s susceptibilities and the consequences of any weakening at this hour of his life. And then what? Was there that in Fanny to be counted on?

All the way she was wishing for Robert Black! Just what he could do she had no idea; that he would somehow find a way she was certain. But it was small use wishing. The next best thing would be to come upon Red Pepper Burns, and this seemed not impossible, because he was daily to be found in this city of which his own town was the suburb; he did most of his operating at one of its hospitals. What Red might do in the emergency she could hardly imagine, either—but she was equally sure that he would cut across all obstacles to force Cary out of possible danger.

To what hotel would Cary take Fanny? She could be pretty sure of this—it was one at the moment highly popular with the sociably inclined younger element of the city, as well as with the floating class who pick out a certain pronounced type of hostelry wherever they may go. Rather more than moderately high prices, excellent food, superlatively good music, a management astute beyond the average—plus a general air of prosperity and good fellowship—this makes the place for the gathering of the clans who love what they call a good time, and who have in their pockets—for the hour, at least—the money to pay for it.

Jane left her train in haste, crossed the big waiting-room with quick glances to right and left in search of a possible encounter, and at the outer door ran full upon someone she had not been looking for but at sight of whom a light of relief leaped into her face. Mrs. Redfield Pepper Burns stood close beside the door, evidently waiting for someone. Instantly Jane’s decision was made. She did not know Mrs. Burns nearly as well as she did the red-headed doctor, but she knew her quite well enough to take counsel with her, sure that she would understand and help.

“Mrs. Burns,”—Jane spoke rapidly and low—“please forgive me for bothering you with my affairs. I may be borrowing trouble, but I am anxious about my brother. I think he is dining in town to-night at the Napoleon, and may be going to a play. He is with Miss Fitch, I believe, and I’m afraid she doesn’t understand that—just now—he mustn’t take—any sort of stimulant. Doctor Burns understands—perhaps you do, too—or will, from my telling you this much. I wish—would it be too much?—to ask you to stay and have dinner with me at the Napoleon, and perhaps join Miss Fitch and Cary—or ask them to join us? I can’t think just what else to do.”

She had always deeply admired Ellen Burns; now, quite suddenly, she found herself loving her. One long look from the beautiful black eyes, one firm pressure from the friendly hand, the sound of the low, warm-toned voice in her ear, and she knew that she had enlisted a true friend.

“My dear—just let me think. I believe we can do even better than that.” A minute of silence followed, then Mrs. Burns went on: “My husband and Mr. Black are staying in together, to meet a quite famous man from abroad. They were to have dinner together first at——Wait—I’ll not stop to explain—Let me leave a message here, and then we’ll take a cab and run back up there. I’ve only just left them.”

In the cab, five minutes later, Mrs. Burns worked out her quickly conceived idea.

“We’ll find my husband and Mr. Black, go to dinner at the Napoleon, and ask your brother and Miss Fitch to join us. Once Red knows the situation he will find a way to get Mr. Ray off with them to meet the famous one, and you and I will take Miss Fitch to the play. What is on to-night?” She drew her lovely brows together. “Not—oh, not that very unpleasant Russian thing?—Yes? Oh, we’ll find something else—or go to a charming violin recital I had half intended to stay in for. Don’t be anxious, Miss Ray, we’ll work it out. And what we can’t think of Robert Black will—he’s quite wonderfully resourceful.”