EXCEPT for the few trying hours in the dentist’s chair the next few days were nothing less than enchantment for Keven Bell. The truth was that Beryl’s unalloyed happiness seemed to substantiate facts which otherwise Keven could not have accepted. He took her everywhere, even to see a famed trout stream near the city. He quite forgot to be careful with money, and certainly Beryl did not help him to remember. Still she had not yet bought the dress that was to dazzle Keven’s former friends and acquaintances of Grant’s Pass.
He stopped at the oculist’s office to pick up the new glasses. The happy moment when he first put them on came. Keven, hardly taking time to thank the oculist, rushed out to confront Beryl, unmindful of other people present in the waiting room.
“Beryl, that blank black place is gone!” he cried gleefully.
“Oh, splendid! How nice you look!”
The dental work, too, was completed at last. The artificial jaw and teeth of gold, platinum, and porcelain were inserted and felt comfortable. Keven ran his hand round his chin. Then he looked in the mirror an assistant held before him. He could not believe his eyes. Following the first flash of astonishment and delight, he thought of Beryl.
“Fine and dandy, Doc!” he ejaculated. “You’ve made a new man out of me. Gosh, I couldn’t thank you if I tried. Hand over your bill now, quick. I’ve got to rustle back to the hotel. This job will sure please a little lady I know.”
When Keven paid the bill he had only a few dollars left, but such was his state of elation that for the moment he did not even think of money. He rushed back to Beryl.
“It’s done…. I’m all through…. What do you—think?” he panted, posing for her.
Beryl dropped whatever it was on her lap, and leaped up, her eyes glad.
“Kev! … Oh, you handsome man! I—I hardly know you. To think it would make such a difference! … I’m just too happy for words.”
“Gosh, so’m I. But wait till I tell——”
She gave a little squeal and almost climbed on him, and kissed his chin, and the new line of his jaw, and lastly his lips in an abandon wholly unusual with her.
“There! I have been saving that,” she whispered.
“Lord, but I love you, Beryl!” he cried, giving her an enormous hug. Then he added ruefully: “But listen, honey. It’s great for us—to mend me up this way so I’m not ashamed for anyone to see you with me. But it took all the money we had left. Except this…. Three dollars.”
“Oh,” returned Beryl, not particularly impressed.
“Darling, you’re a woman, all right. Money cuts no ice with you. But I’m darned sick. How’ll I pay the hotel bill? Fortunately I had sense enough to buy round-trip railroad tickets…. We can’t go to Grant’s Pass. That is a disappointment. And the peach of an outfit for you! I did so want that…. Damn the luck!”
“Kev, are you swearing at me?” she asked demurely.
“No. I—I suppose I ought to thank God you’re so good, so reasonable, so unselfish. It’s all been so lucky for me. But I wanted something grand for you—I wanted it!”
He turned away so that she would not see the tears in his eyes.
“Honey, do you feel very badly?” she asked sweetly.
“Rotten! I’d rather you had the dress. Why didn’t I make you buy it? The doctor would have trusted me.”
“Look on the bed,” said Beryl softly.
In surprise Keven turned as bidden. The bed appeared to be loaded down with a bewildering array of finery, in the midst of which shone the lacy golden gown he had so admired. He espied slippers and stockings to match. Then there was a blue traveling dress, a small blue hat, and gloves and shoes. And underneath all these shone silk lingerie.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she asked innocently.
“Good heavens! Beryl, you didn’t go in debt for all this stuff?”
“No. I—just bought it.”
“Bought it! What with?”
“Well, naturally, it had to be done with money.”
Keven sat down stunned. She looked so sweet and so pleased with the effect of her surprise.
“How much did all this cost?”
“I haven’t figured up yet.”
“Where’d you get the money? … Did your father give you more besides the wedding present, which, by the way, I spent on myself?”
“No. Dad gave me only the hundred dollars, which you had.”
“Well, sweetheart, I hope you didn’t rob a bank.”
“I’ve had the money for a long time, Keven…. And I reckon I’d better give you what’s left.” Whereupon she extracted a roll of bills from her bag and handed it to Keven. “Don’t look so scared, darling. It was honestly mine, and what’s mine is yours.”
“Thank you, Beryl,” replied Keven huskily. “Was this a—a legacy?”
“Hardly,” she said mysteriously.
“Did you work for this, too?”
“I suppose you’d say I worked Dad for it. Anyway I’ve saved it, a little at a time, during the four years you stayed away from me. I thought it might come in handy sometime. And it surely did. Behold my trousseau! And we’re going to Grant’s Pass.”
“Oh, we are…. Is this all the money you had?”
“No, I’ve still enough left to buy you a rifle and the best fishing tackle to be had…. I wish you’d let me surprise you with them.”
Keven counted the money she had placed in his hands. Nearly five hundred dollars!
“You see, Kev dear, we don’t get married often. And we need a lot of things for our cabin. I plan to buy these at Grant’s Pass and have them shipped to West Fork, where we can have them packed over to Solitude.”
“By gosh! … I’m glad—I guess—but I’m sure flabbergasted,” rejoined Keven, sitting down as if his legs had become weak.
“You guess? … Kev, I never knew any man would guess about feeling glad his wife had saved a little money.”
“It is kind of churlish in me. Doggone it! … But I’m stumped.”
What more he was besides being stumped he did not say. All he was sure of was that he was an extraordinarily fortunate young man. Once again he glanced at the finery on the bed.
“Beryl, you have excellent taste.”
“I’d rather have a few really good things than a lot of shoddy stuff…. As for the gold gown—that’s for you. If only I can screw up courage to wear it! Perhaps I can.”
“You bet you will…. Say. Beryl, what are you going to pack all this gorgeous stuff in?”
“I haven’t had time yet to look for anything. A couple of strong grips might do.”
“I think two of those heavy telescope cases with straps. They’re nothing much for looks. But they’ll stand packing across the mountains. Suppose I run out and buy a couple?”
“Do. While I begin to pack.”
“I’ll see about trains, too. We’ll leave for Grant’s Pass tonight.”
“Oh, goody!” cried Beryl, clapping her hands like a child.
“It may not be so goody as I’d fondly hoped,” returned Keven ponderingly. “I’d forgot about my arrest at Gold Beach.”
“Arrest! You weren’t explicit about that.”
“I’m afraid there are a lot of things I never told you.”
“What were you arrested for?” she queried, anxious dark eyes on him.
“Assault on Gus Atwell. I did tell you I punched him, for I distinctly remember you were very pleased…. Well, the sheriff at Gold Beach turned out a friend of mine. He wouldn’t let them take me to Grant’s Pass for trial. And the case was dropped.”
“You think it might come up again if we go to Grant’s Pass?”
“It probably would. But I believe we’ll go anyhow. Beryl, I’m a different man now. I don’t feel that I can let Atwell’s enmity keep me away from my home town. I am innocent of what Atwell laid at my door. All I did was to knock him down. I don’t believe I’d care if the case did come up again.”
“I wouldn’t, either…. But it never will, Kev, darling,” she said, with one of her dazzling enigmatic smiles.
“Never? How do you know?”
“Well, it never will if you take me to Grant’s Pass.”
“Of course I’ll take you. That’s the main reason why I want to go. But what will that have to do with the possibility of my arrest?”
“Kev, when Major Atwell sees me with you—that will be the end of his persecution of you.”
“Indeed!” ejaculated Keven, almost stiffly. Just then Beryl reminded him of her father. Perhaps it was the Indian in her. She looked strong, resourceful, aloof. What a friend—what an enemy she would make!
“I’m pretty sure of it,” she returned.
“May I ask why?”
“I know too much about Major Atwell.”
“You mean the—the personal attentions he tried to force upon you, while you were at school in Roseburg?”
“No. That was nothing. To be sure he tried, but after that one time he saw me with Emily Carstone. And you bet he sneaked.”
“Emily Carstone! Who’s she?” exclaimed Keven, in a queer tone.
“She was my best friend in Roseburg.”
“Any relation to that—that Carstone family in Washington?”
“A first cousin. Emily visited their ranch while the army training camp was there. That was early. But Emily said it was too swift for her…. A year later came the horrible disgrace. Five sisters ruined! Emily’s father went out there, got the family away, and sold the ranch…. I know all about the affair. Emily told me. What’s more, her father told Major Atwell to stay away from Roseburg or he’d shoot him. That happened last May, just before I went back to Solitude. Now Major Atwell knows I know all this. And it strikes me the facts might be known in Grant’s Pass by this time.”
“Good heavens! Beryl, why in the world didn’t you tell me this long ago? We talked about Atwell. I don’t remember what else. But you had some hint of——”
“Yes, I did,” interposed Beryl, her face flushing. “But I hated the whole thing. I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“You knew—all the time you knew Gus Atwell had laid his vile doings upon me!”
“All the time I knew, Kev. Also I knew what rot it was. Truth always comes out. No man can hide his crimes forever. Atwell is a—a—oh, I’ve no name dirty enough for him…. And he’d just better look out or he’ll have Emily Carstone’s father and Daddy Aard to reckon with!”
Keven gazed mutely at Beryl. White-faced, with dark flashing passionate eyes bent upon him, she held him transfixed with her beauty and menace. Then she turned to the articles on the bed.
“I’m sorry it came up, Kev. But maybe that’s just as well…. Now you run out and buy those bags for me. Don’t stay long.”
Pondering and bewildered, Keven left the hotel and went uptown to make the purchases. It seemed there was infinitely more reason for him to worship Beryl Aard than he had ever dreamed of. Moreover something strange was beating into his perplexity. Life or love or God was recompensing him for the misery and pain he had endured. He had been turned back from the precipice of failure—from the abyss of crime.
The following night late Keven and Beryl arrived in Grant’s Pass. The long ride through beautiful Oregon and the gradual approach to his home and father, and to some thrilling adventure he anticipated, had heightened Keven’s spirits to the utmost. He put aside dismaying and inexplicable questions. They drove to the best hotel, which was new to Keven, and there he laboriously registered as unintelligibly as possible. And he had the satisfaction of seeing that neither his face nor name had been recognized. He did not fail to note that Beryl, as usual, wherever they went, was the recipient of most admiring glances.
“Beryl, nobody knew me,” said Keven with satisfaction, when they were alone in the spacious pleasant room. “Gosh, that clerk rubbered at you. And the other men, too.”
“I didn’t notice. But if I’m ever to be noticed I want it to be in your home town.”
“Noticed? Good Lord, listen to you,” declared Keven. “A blind man could see you’re a bride. A beauty! A peach! A queen!”
“Thank you, Kev. That is fine on my honeymoon. But I fear you’re a little hipped over my good looks.”
“All right. I’m glad you’re not conceited. And I’m glad you make such a hit with the men…. Doggone them, I’ll show them you belong to me. I’m goin to act differently here in my home town. I intend to hang onto you, fall all over you, gaze at you like a dying duck, hug and kiss you in public——”
“You can’t scare me, Kev Bell. Go ahead. I dare you.”
“You do? Very well, Mrs. Bell,” he returned threateningly.
“I’d like nothing better than for your old girls to see you act that way…. And I’ll show them.”
“It’s a bargain,” cried Keven.
At sunrise he was up, gazing out of the window, from which he could see across the roofs of the town to the meadows, the pines, and the shining river, a ribbon of rose. What a magnificent thrill he sustained! He could look at the playgrounds of his boyhood with a new joy, with a surety that the regret and grief and bitterness of his first home-coming after the war had gone forever.
After a while he awoke Beryl.
“Wake up, angel. And put on that blue outfit. We’re going to start knocking ’em dead.”
“What time is it?” yawned Beryl, stretching her round arms.
“It’s late. Eight o’clock.”
“So late! Well, chase yourself, you wild-eyed bridegroom! I can’t get up with you staring there.”
“Gosh, but I adore you!” cried Keven, kissing the red lips. “I just know I’ll come to presently and find this all a dream…. I’ll wait for you downstairs in the lobby.”
Keven took a last glance at himself in the mirror, to make sure that the immeasurable improvement in his features was real. It also reflected the well-cut gray suit, and the fact that never before in his life had he looked like this.
“Vain thing!” giggled Beryl, and as he rushed away toward the door: “But you are handsome.”
Downstairs Keven found a number of men in the lobby, none of whom he recognized. He lounged about, apparently with casual interest, when inside he was bursting with excitement and glee. He walked out to the street corner and stood there marveling. There seemed to be a glamour over the whole world this day. Then he returned to the lobby. Beryl would be prompt and he did not want to miss her. Presently she entered and he was hard put to it to contain himself. Fine feathers did make fine birds. But he was unprepared for her blushing, adoring reception of his approach. At Portland she had been reserved, almost shy. Here she was a bride, wholly oblivious of anyone save him. It gave Keven a shock, but he liked it.
On the way into the dining room he whispered: “You look like a million dollars.”
“If I do you’re the millionaire.”
All through a delightful breakfast they talked after that fashion. Then Keven said: “Gosh, let’s get down to brass tacks. What’ll we do now?”
“You’ll go to your father at once.”
“Yes, but oughtn’t you come, too?”
“No. You see him first. Don’t forget you said you were supposed to be dead…. Kev, I’ve an idea. Show me where to find your friend Minton. I’ll go in and ask to see fishing tackle. He’ll not know me from Adam.”
“That’d be great. Gosh, I’d like to see you.”
“It’ll be all the better after I work him up, so to speak. I’ll say, very loftily, ‘I wish to purchase some fine tackle for my husband. He is a poor fisherman, but it’s my wish that he possess a splendid outfit. Have you any really good tackle? Leonard rods, you know, and English reels, lines, leaders. He doesn’t care for common things.’”
“Oh, that’s rich!” gurgled Keven. “It’ll be immense. Minton is crazy about pretty women anyway. Then, just when he’s fallen, I’ll bob in and chirp: ‘Howdy, Mint, old geezer?’ And he’ll shout, ‘My Gawd—is it a ghost? By thunder, it’s Kev Bell! We thought you dead!’ … And I’ll say, Terribly exaggerated, Minton. I’m fine…. Meet my wife.’”
“I don’t know,” replied Beryl dubiously. “That about his being crazy about women! Is he very bold?”
“Bold? He’s the mildest and kindest man you ever met.”
“Very well, then, let’s go,” said Beryl, once more reassured. “You see your Dad…. Oh, I hope he’s well. Then I’ll meet you at Minton’s. After that we’ll buy our furniture.”
“Okay. But see here, honey, you’ll need some money to buy the tackle from Minton,” rejoined Keven, his hand going to his pocket. “But I’ll not give you much.”
Beryl waved this offer aside. “Thanks. I’ve got some money left. Anyway you’d never give me enough.”
“You’ve got some left!” he ejaculated.
“Sure.”
“Beryl!”
“Kev!” she imitated impertinently. “Come, we’re wasting time.”
“See here, this—this is too much,” declared Keven doggedly.
“What is—my little dab of money?”
“No, not the money itself. But your having it…. Beryl, I’m going to get angry presently. I’ll be thinking I married you for your money.”
“All because for nearly five years you had a loving, faithful, saving sweetheart—who’s now your wife…. I declare men are funny.”
They were now out on the street. Keven surrendered in despair. Then he pointed out Minton’s store across the street. “I’ll meet you there in a half hour,” he said and fled.
He was so thoughtful that he did not look to see if he met anyone who knew him, and before he realized how far he had gone he was down the side street almost to his father’s home. The drab little house had not changed; nothing had except the leaves of the vine that trailed over the porch, and they were dyed the russet hue of autumn. No one answered his knock, and the door was locked. Keven went around to the back. Then he heard hammering in the shop. Approaching he was able to reach the open door without being seen. His father, apparently not a day older, was at work on a boat.
“Hello, Dad,” he shouted, stepping in. “How’s tricks?”
Bell had his back to the door. He stiffened. The hammer fell. Slowly he wheeled, calling “Kev!” even before he espied his visitor. Then his gray old head jerked up, his eyes lightened. “My son! My son! … I never believed you dead.”
The moment ensuing was more poignant than Keven had expected, and it was he who showed the most emotion.
“You’re changed—well—a new man! … Why, Keven, what does this mean? An’ the prosperous look of you! Son, I’d have thanked God to see you back home anyhow or any way, but——”
“Dad, take a peer at my new jaw,” interrupted Keven, drawing down his lip. “Gold and platinum—porcelain teeth! Some class, eh? And look at my bad eye. I’ll bet you can’t tell which was the bad one.”
“My boy, I can’t, indeed.”
“I’ve gained forty-eight pounds. Can you see it on me?”
“That didn’t strike me, Kev. But now I do … An’ dressed in the height of fashion! For heaven’s sake, explain.”
“It’s a long story, Dad. I’ll save it for some other time. Enough to say, when I was down and out—a lost wretch ready to—well, never mind what—I met someone who changed me, body and soul.”
“A woman!” gasped Bell.
“A girl. She’s the loveliest—the noblest—Oh, wait till you see her…. I’m well! I’m happy! I’m married! I’ve a job!”
The older man sat down quite suddenly upon the boat he was building, overcome by Keven’s wild utterances, and the manifest proof of some of them, at least.
“Dad, I’ll get back my good name, too,” added Keven triumphantly.
That stirred the old man.
“Son, you’ve got it back,” he replied ringingly. “Garry Lord saw to that, God bless him!”
“Garry Lord! … Dad, what’re you saying? … I saw Garry drown. With my own eyes I saw him.”
“You thought so. But you didn’t. Garry’s alive.”
“Alive!” cried Keven huskily. “Are you sure? It would be hideous—if—if——”
“Son, he was here last night,” announced the father, his tone carrying absolute conviction.
Keven threw up his hands to send his hat flying. His face was beaded with clammy drops.
“More to thank God for! More! Where will it end? I’m—just—knocked—flat.”
“Listen,” said Bell, with the hurry of a man keen to give joy. “Garry didn’t drown. The skiff floated out to sea. Next day it was sighted by a woman—daughter of a fisherman named Coombs, on his way to Crescent City. They picked Garry up, took your net an’ let the skiff go. Garry had a bad knock on his head, but he recovered. He married the young woman, Mary Coombs. But that was afterward. As Garry told it he knew you were dead, murdered by a fisherman named Mulligan. Meanwhile, Mulligan’s body was found, with your knife sticking in his throat. Then Garry knew you had stabbed Mulligan in that fight. He swore he would clear your name. But he laid low at first, working it out. Atwell went to Gold Beach—openly accused you of murder, an’ sought to lay the stealin’ of fish upon you. After a time Garry got proof of where that net came from an’ who sold it to Mulligan. He even got proof about the eight-inch mesh at the top of the net, which Mulligan had added to it. Garry went back to Gold Beach an’ stole another such net. He laid a trap for those crooked market fishermen. He had that Gold Beach sheriff hide on shore an’ watch an’ listen. Garry led the fishermen ashore, where, in the midst of the fight, the sheriff pounced down on them. One of them was Mulligan’s pardner. The sheriff arrested him, made him confess to crooked nettin’…. Well, Garry an’ the sheriff came here to Grant’s Pass an’ laid the facts before Judge Parsons an’ the new chief of police. Garry told his story. It was believed. It went all over town. It cleared your name an’ it cast a dark shadow on that of the man who has hounded you—who implicated you in that infamous Carstone scandal…. Kev, it is significant that Atwell is no longer associated with Brandeth—nor engaged to Rosamond.”
“The world is coming to an end!” raved Keven, pacing the shop, tearing at his hair. “Oh, Garry! … What a man! … I see the hand of God in all this…. Where is Garry—where can I find him?”
“He runs a little fish market here, three days a week an’ another three days in Crescent City. Coombs supplies the fish, Garry sells them. They’re doin’ well. He’ll be at his place on Thursday, this week. I told you he married Coombs’ daughter, didn’t I? She’s a rosy-cheeked buxom girl, an’ she manages Garry, believe me. She told me she allowed him only one spree a month.”
Keven shouted his mingled mirth and joy. Then suddenly he remembered Beryl.
“Dad, I gotta beat it. I’ll see you again today. I’ll fetch Her around.” Then he rushed out and down the path to the street. And only when he saw that pedestrians were remarking his singular actions did he correct them. By the time he arrived at Minton’s store he had gained some semblance of outward composure, nevertheless his mind was full of wild, whirling thoughts.
Keven peeped in before entering. Beryl stood in the center of the store, whipping a trout rod with no uncertain hand. Minton wore a most extraordinary expression upon his genial face. He was certainly fascinated by this new and lovely customer.
“This rod is no good,” Beryl was saying. “It’s too pudgy. My husband——”
“Pardon, lady,” replied Minton, “that rod is good. It’s a Leonard. There’s no better made.”
“I like the Grangers better,” replied Beryl, laying the rod on the counter, where a pile of disordered tackle gave evidence of the condition of Minton’s mind. “I’m sorry you have only two. They’ll last my husband about two days.”
“What kind of a—er—fisherman is he?” asked the dealer. “Is he an expert?”
“He thinks he is. But I can beat him. Of course I know the river.”
“What river, Madam, may I ask? Rivers are different, and your river——”
“The Rogue.”
“You know the Rogue?” queried Minton, beaming in spite of his astonishment. Manifestly he was learning that he did not know all about the famous river.
“I was born on it. I know every stone from Winkle Bar to Illahe.”
Keven thought it was about time to enter, even if he could have waited longer. So he rushed in like the wind.
“Hey, Mint, old boy, how are you?” he yelped happily.
Minton turned pale. His eyes popped out. His jaw dropped.
“My God! … Who’re you?”
“Well, I like that! Don’t know me! My feelings are hurt.”
“It can’t be—Kev Bell.”
“Why can’t it, I’d like to know?”
“But—he’s dead.”
“Dead nothing. Do I look dead?” retorted Keven.
Minton whooped and knocked everything off the counter getting at Keven.
“You ole fishin’ son of a gun! Come back to life! … Oh, boy! … Kev, I never was so glad in my born days. And just look at you!”
“Well, I reckon I’ll have to forgive you, since you are so glad,” replied Keven, touched at the warmth of Minton’s welcome.
Then the tackle dealer remembered his waiting customer, who stood there, far from calm, if he had not been too excited to notice.
“Excuse me, Madam,” he apologized. “This gentleman is an old friend. He was reported dead. Naturally I was somewhat upset to have him drop out of the clouds, as it were…. Now, if you please, we’ll get back to——”
“Hey, stop flirting with my wife,” bellowed Keven fiercely.
Minton halted as if he had been lassoed. He was thunderstruck. Keven’s ferocious aspect and Beryl’s blushes caused him to sag in his tracks.
“Oh, Kev,” murmured Beryl.
Keven laughed till his face was convulsed. When he recovered he espied the paralyzed Minton leaning against the counter for support.
“Beryl, this is my good friend, Minton, whom you have heard me speak of often…. Mint, old top, meet my wife.”
“I’m very happy to meet you, Mr. Minton,” replied Beryl, overcoming her confusion.
“Wife—husband! … Say, you put up a job on me,” burst out Minton. “Of all the surprises! … Mrs. Bell, I am delighted to make your acquaintance…. Kev, you old wizard, you’re about the luckiest man on earth. How’d you do it? You get chased out of Grant’s Pass under a cloud. You get pinched at Gold Beach. Then you’re drowned. Then your home town clears your reputation. Now you bob up well, handsome, prosperous-looking, with a queen for a wife!”
“Gosh, it is a fairy story, Mint,” declared Keven. “But no wonder. Look at my fairy!”
“I’ve been looking.”
Between Minton and Keven they gave Beryl a very flattering if embarrassing few moments. Then Keven remembered his great news.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Beryl, I’ve got the most wonderful news. Dad is well and fine. I sure surprised him, but he said he’d never believed I was dead. And listen to this. Garry Lord is alive! Some girl saved his life. He married her. If that doesn’t beat me…. Beryl, Dad says Garry cleared my name here in Grant’s Pass.”
“Bless him!” exclaimed Beryl.
“Mint, has Dad got that straight?” went on Keven anxiously.
“You just bet he has,” declared Minton emphatically. “It’s late in the day, Kev, but the old town has made amends. You’ll be a lion. And when they see your wife—good night!”