CHAPTER XXII
DAN OAKLEY went to Chicago, intending to see Holloway and resign, but he found that the Huckleberry's vice-president was in New York on business, and no one in his office seemed to know when he would return, so he sat down and wrote a letter, telling him of the condition of affairs at Antioch, and explaining the utter futility, in view of what had happened, of his trying to cope with the situation.
He waited five days for a reply, and, none coming, wired to learn if his letter had been received. This produced results. Holloway wired back that he had the letter under consideration, and requested Oakley to remain in Chicago until he returned, but he did not say whether or not his resignation would be accepted. Since there was nothing to be done but await Holloway's pleasure in the matter, Dan employed his enforced leisure in looking about for another position. He desired a connection which would take him out of the country, for the farther away from Antioch and Constance Emory he could get the better he would be satisfied. He fancied he would like to go to South America. He was willing to accept almost any kind of a post—salary was no longer a consideration with him. What he required was a radical change, with plenty of hard work.
It was not to be wondered at that his judgment of the case was an extreme one, or that he told himself he must make a fresh start, as his record was very much against him and his ability at a discount. While he could not fairly be held responsible for the miscarriage of his plans at Antioch, he felt their failure keenly, so keenly that could he have seen the glimmer of a hope ahead he could have gone back and taken up the struggle, but the killing of Ryder by his father made this impossible. There was nothing he could do, and his mere presence outraged the whole town. No understanding would ever be reached with the hands if he continued in control, while a new man in his place would probably have little or no difficulty in coming to an agreement with them. No doubt they were quite as sick as he had been of the fight, and if he left they would be content to count his going a victory, and waive the question of wages. It was part of the irony of the condition that the new man would find enough work contracted for to keep the shop open and running full time for the next eight or ten months. But his successor was welcome to the glory of it when he had hidden himself in some God-forsaken corner of the globe along with the other waifs and strays—the men who have left home because of their health or their accounts, and who hang around dingy seaport towns and read month-old newspapers and try to believe that the game has been worth the candle.
By far his greatest anxiety was his father. He watched the papers closely, expecting each day to read that he had been captured and sent back to Antioch, but the days slipped past, and there was no mention of him. Holt, with whom he was in constant correspondence, reported that interest in his capture had considerably abated, while the organized pursuit had entirely ceased.
Dan had the feeling that he should never see him again, and the pathos of his age and dependence tore his heart. In a manner, too, he blamed himself for the tragedy. It might have been averted had he said less about Ryder in his father's hearing. He should have known better than to discuss the strike with him.
One morning, as he left Holloway's office, he chanced to meet an acquaintance by the name of Curtice. They had been together in Denver years before, and he had known him as a rather talkative young fellow, with large hopes and a thrifty eye to the main chance. But he was the one man he would have preferred to meet, for he had been in South America and knew the field there. Apparently Curtice was equally glad to see him. He insisted upon carrying him off to his club to lunch, where it developed he was in a state of happy enthusiasm over his connection with a road that had just gone into the hands of a receiver, and a new baby, which he assured Oakley on the spur of the moment he was going to name after him.
“You see, Oakley,” he explained, as they settled themselves, “I was married after you left to a girl who had come to Denver with a consumptive brother. They boarded at the same place I did.” His companion was properly interested. “Look here, how long are you going to be in the city? I want you to come and see us.”
Dan avoided committing himself by saying his stay in Chicago was most uncertain. He might have to leave very soon.
“Well, then, you must drop in at my office. I wish you'd make it your headquarters while you are here.”