Dick was no coward, but the bravest of men scarcely like to hear statements of this sort, and he remembered the look on John’s face when he had passed him in the doorway, the day Lola had been brought home so seriously injured, killed, as they all supposed, by his carelessness. So he lost no time in calling Mrs. Harlan into the room, and telling her of their plans. She gladly agreed to go with them on a visit to the various summer resorts, and cheerfully offered to take care of Lola until they were ready to start. She said it was very sensible of them to avoid the chance of any unpleasantness, and that the sooner they got away from Dick’s rooms the better. She reminded them that it would be a very easy matter for John, or Dr. Barnhelm, to get Dick’s address from the telephone book, but she had no doubt of being able to keep Lola safely in her own apartment, until they were ready to leave the city. She returned to the other room for her wrap, and John went to telephone for his car and to give instructions to Brooks to pack up for a long journey.
LOLA CONFESSES HER LOVE FOR DICK FENWAY.
Left alone to wait for their return, Lola moved curiously about, looking at everything with great interest. How nice it was all going to be, to always be surrounded by beautiful objects. Dick was going to be very good to her, she was sure of that, quite sure of her power over him. He was a good fellow; he had never thrilled her as John had done, for a moment, that very afternoon, but John was a prude; she never would have been able to endure life with him.
How silly of her to have hesitated. She should have left home long ago. She had supposed that it would almost break her heart, but she did not seem to care at all. She must remember that. Nothing ever really mattered, after all, if one had the courage to do as one pleased. Something always happened to make things all right.
She was glad when she came to think of it that Dick was not in a position to marry her at once. She might find that he bored her, or that he was not as kind as she expected, and if so, why then she wouldn’t marry him at all.
As she had walked down Broadway, from the subway station, a dozen men had turned and looked after her, rich, well-dressed men, some of them. After all there was no reason why a girl should worry, with the world so full of men, all of them eager to lavish their money on her. One had to be careful, of course, and she meant to be careful. She had no fear of Dick, she could manage him. John was different; if John had been a bad man she would have been afraid of him, afraid of herself, but, thank goodness, Dick was harmless. He was too wise, too experienced; his very look put her on her guard against him. What a fortunate thing it was that men were such obvious creatures, good or bad; how silly to be afraid of either sort; one only had to be a little prudent, a little clever, and perhaps a little pretty. She laughed softly to herself. She was all of these, she knew, and more. She had no fear of the world; she was not afraid; she was eager to match her strength against it. She felt perfectly safe when, a few moments later, they shot out of the side street, in Dick’s big car, and turned up Broadway. It was midnight, but the great thoroughfare was thronged with automobiles—thousands of them. What a good time people had, to be sure; what a fool she had been to waste any of her precious youth in the dull life of her old home. She was only just twenty, after all, she thought happily, and she had a lot of time yet in which to be young and gay.
She was seated on the back seat of the car with Dick and Mrs. Harlan. Dick was between them, and as they turned into Broadway he took her hand, and pressed it tenderly. She returned the pressure softly, and looked up at him. As she did so she saw John Dorris. He was on the crowded sidewalk, hurrying down the street as fast as the throng in front of him would allow. For a moment their eyes met. She saw his pale, worried look change to fierce anger as he saw her there with Dick and Mrs. Harlan. He sprang to the curb and called out to her, but the car shot past. He followed desperately. A traffic policeman might stop them at Forty-second Street; that was his only chance. As he ran along, in the street, keeping close to the sidewalk, hundreds of heads turned to look after him. The Broadway crowd is quick to scent trouble, and as they saw the look on his face they turned laughingly, and tried to see what he was going to do.
“Some guy is going to get his, if that feller’s legs hold out,” remarked a fat man with a wide grin of delight. “I wish he’d manage to pull it off quick, ‘cause I’m too damned fat to do a Marathon.”
There they were! The long line of cars had stopped in response to the officer’s raised hand. He would do it yet! His breath was coming in quick gasps, but he saw them! He saw the big red car in the line with all the others. He could see Fenway standing up, and looking back anxiously. He had good reason to be anxious!