And now that, after several days of solicitous care and constant watching, he had succeeded in pulling Kendall through without his giving way to the terrible after-craving he had for liquor, would the promises made him be fulfilled, or had he been too credulous?

Kendall had told him that he and his father were wealthy. That besides their large fruit farm, they were interested in a general store and commission business. He had promised Checkers that if he would but consent to see him to his home in Clarksville, he should be given a good position in the store, and that if after they arrived there he found that he did not care to remain, he should have transportation to any place in the country he cared to go. And to Checkers, disheartened and penniless, out of conceit with gambling, and satiated with the excitement and uncertainty of the life he had been leading, the opportunity seemed a very G.o.dsend. Thoughts of the country, green and cool, appealed to him with a grateful sense of restfulness and quiet; and the idea of going to work again at something legitimate brought with it the feeling of conscious approval, which always accompanies virtuous resolves.

But since Kendall had become himself again, he seemed to have grown less dependent and thankful. And again the glimpse that Checkers had caught of the place had greatly dampened his ardor.

An hour dragged slowly by, and still he lay restlessly tossing about.

The roosters began to crow and answer each other from point to point in the distance; and a hound near by with a mournful howl bayed dismally at intervals.

'Twas the strangeness of it all that kept him wakeful, but at last the tension was relieved by a knocking at the door of the room beyond which aroused a couple of drummers, who were called to catch an early train.

He heard them through the thin part.i.tion, dressing and grumbling at their luck. Here at least was something natural, and gradually the humorous side of the situation appealed to him. He smiled, as with a long-drawn sigh he murmured, "I think I 'll get fat here, nit," and when he awoke it was broad daylight, and Kendall was standing over him, dressed.

"h.e.l.lo, old man, awake at last," laughed Kendall. "Well, you better get up and dress, or we 're apt to miss our breakfast. How did you sleep? All right, I hope; you look as fresh as a mountain daisy."

Checkers crawled slowly out of bed. "Well, then my looks are a horrible bluff," he said, with the slight, sardonic smile which was usual to him at nearly all times. "I feel like the last end of a misspent life," and he fished a sock out from under the bed. "Do you know," he continued, as he held his shirt aloft, preparatory to putting it on, "it's wonderful how a fellow's early training comes back to him later in life. I recollect my mother used to read a psalm about not being 'afraid of the terror by night, nor the pestilence that walketh in darkness.' Now, somehow, it never struck me before, but I 'll bet the party that wrote the verse never slept in an Arkansas hotel bed.

If he did, he had on his tin pajamas, or else he could beat 'the pestilence' walking. Say, where on earth is my other sock? I'll gamble that one of them pinchin'-bugs pinched it?" and Checkers kept up a running fire of quaint remarks while Kendall laughed.

Their breakfast was a culinary horror.

"Have you got any capsules?" asked Checkers of the waitress.

"Capsules!"

"Yes, I'll have to have some, if I take this b.u.t.ter internally." A kick under the table from Arthur put an end to further persiflage.

A two-seated spring wagon, known locally as a "hack," with two st.u.r.dy horses and a driver stood waiting for them. Arthur had sent out and ordered it before breakfast, and his telescope bag and Checkers' trunk he had caused to be firmly strapped into the end.

The day was a typically beautiful one. The clear and bracing morning air had in it just enough of a chill to make the sunshine grateful to them, as they drove along the winding road, toward the mountainous country lying beyond them.

Checkers' blues had disappeared with the vapors of the night before, and he felt the exultation of a new and pleasant experience. Arthur was in an easy humor, and described at considerable length to Checkers his family and their circ.u.mstances.

Some ten years back his father had moved from Ma.s.sachusetts to that locality at the advice of his doctor. He had bronchial trouble, and he found the thin, clear air of the Ozarks beneficial. Mrs. Kendall was long since dead, and Arthur had been an only child. Besides these two there were in the household Aunt Deb, who was a sister of Mr.

Kendall's, and "Cynthy," the cook, and maid of all work. There was also a good-natured creature named Tobe, half-witted and harmless, attached to the family, who did odd jobs for his board and keep, and had const.i.tuted himself a fixture.

At their store they sold everything from plows to perfumery. The commission business was simply an adjunct. They bought for cash from the farmers, and shipped the goods to Little Rock, and sometimes to St.

Louis. Old Mr. Bradley, who had owned the store when they first came there, was running it now. They had bought him out, but had given him an interest and salary as manager.

The business was the pride of the old man's life, and he watched it as a mother watches her babe.

Arthur spent most of his time at the store, selling goods and talking to the trade; but the elder Kendall seldom went there. He pa.s.sed the summer in his garden and among his fruit trees. In the winter he generally traveled farther South.

Checkers gathered by indirection that he was wealthy outside of his business. Probably an eccentric individual, who simply liked the place and stayed there.

"I should think," said Checkers, as Arthur paused in his recital, "that a fellow would fall into a trance in about a week, in a place like this. What on earth do you do with yourself."

"Well," said Arthur, "I haven't lived here much. I've been East to school, and knocked around in a lot of different places, and I like it here as a kind of a change. There are a couple of very nice girls in the town that I call on once in a while. I read a good deal in the evenings, and, in season, the shooting is fine. I 'll admit it gets rather stupid at times, but it's the best place in the world for me.

You know they have 'local option' here, and you can 't get a drink for love or money. As long as I stay here, of course, I 'm all right; but as sure as I get away some place, I make a fool of myself, and get full, as I did when you rescued me at the Springs. Drinking is a disease with me. I can't drink as most fellows do. If I touch a drop it starts me off, and it's good-bye for a week or two. Each time I come home as the prodigal did, and my father comes out and 'falls on my neck.' He 's been devilish kind, the governor has, and I 've cost him a lot of money and trouble."

"Well, that's what a father has to expect," remarked Checkers. "If ever I have a son, I 'll begin storing up veal on the day that he's born--I'll need it if he takes after 'papa.'"

Arthur laughed and laid his hand caressingly upon Checker's shoulder.

"Old man," he said, "I like you and I want you to stay here and be my chum. We 'll have some bully times together, and you 'll like it when you get used to the place. You 've treated me mighty white all through, and I want to tell you that I appreciate it."

Checkers grew red. He felt embarra.s.sed, and hesitated for a reply.

Arthur knew his story, or such of it as Checkers had seen fit to relate to him. But Checkers had never intimated that he was hopelessly dependent. He had spoken vaguely of relatives; of drawing a draft on Uncle Giles; of telegraphing to Chicago for money; it lent him respectability.

It must be remembered that at this time Checkers had not been through the most trying part of the experiences of which he had spoken while dining with me at Kinsley's that night. And while by no means Arthur's equal in the social scale, he was still very far from being the hardened tout, whom two years later, I met at the race-track, Derby Day.

Nevertheless, he himself felt a difference intuitively, and though he had exercised to the full his talent for making himself companionable, it had proved a very difficult task to fully break through Arthur's reserve. This sudden show of sentiment, therefore, upon Arthur's part, affected and pleased him; and reaching up to the hand on his shoulder, he grasped it warmly. "I 'll go you," he said. And the two friends smiled into each other's eyes.

V

A very few days sufficed to make Checkers feel thoroughly at home in his new surroundings. The Kendall house was a roomy, frame structure set upon one of the highest of the Ozark Mountains, to which the road from Clarksville was a gradual, and almost constant ascent. From his window Checkers could see for miles down into the valley, across the dense growth of mountain-pines, the many shaded green and yellow squares of fields and farm lands beyond, and away in the distance the Arkansas River glistening in the sun like a silver snake.

Immediately surrounding the house were the orchards, their trees almost breaking with the wealth of their red and yellow fruit.

Checkers had found ready favor with Mr. Kendall by evincing an enthusiastic interest, confessing at the same time an ignorance which allowed the old gentleman full opportunity for enlarging upon his favorite hobbies. Aunt Deb's smiles were as quickly won by a deft word in praise of the table.

Just how Arthur had explained the presence of his friend to the household, Checkers did not know. But it was evident, as he remarked to himself, that "the explanation went," and he bothered himself about it no further.

At the store it was found that Checkers' talents were those of a salesman par excellence.

He quickly learned the run of the goods, and his chief delight, to use his own words, was "to jolly the jays into buying something they absolutely had no need of."

Arthur and Mr. Bradley would sometimes stand almost convulsed with silent laughter, listening to the dialogue between Checkers and some country customer.

He was quick at reading character, and his intuitions were remarkably keen. He was able, therefore, to ingratiate himself with nearly every cla.s.s of purchaser, by starting a genial conversation upon the topic he deemed most fit, letting it take its course through all the vagaries of a country mind, until at last it veered around to the subject of a possible purchase. Then, in the most disinterested way, and as though rather sorry to end the talk, he would go behind the counter and pleasantly show forth a number of things that had n't been asked for, as though it was only as a special favor that he had gone to the trouble of getting the articles down. Such consideration, backed by a judicious talk, seldom failed of the most substantial results; and Checkers' fame soon went abroad as "a nice, young feller and a smart 'un, too."

It was during his first few days at the store that he acquired the soubriquet of "Checkers." It was a piece of rude, bucolic wit, but the name stuck to him, as such names will, and followed him through his many vicissitudes.

Time was at a discount in Clarksville, Everyone had time to spend, but few had money for such a purpose. And generally at the Kendall store, some six or eight of the local talent might be found lounging comfortably in the chairs outside, chaffing one another, chewing tobacco, and waiting for something new to turn up.

This was particularly the case on Sat.u.r.days, when the farmers came to town with their apples, vegetables and eggs for barter, made their necessary purchases, and consumed the balance of the day in standing around, talking crops and politics.

Although there were no saloons in the place, the greater part of the a.s.semblage always delayed their shopping until the last possible moment, which naturally made a considerable rush at the various stores as evening approached.

It was Checkers' first Sat.u.r.day there, and while endeavoring to be as helpful as possible, he was nevertheless rather awkward, as a result of his unaccustomedness.

This did not fail to be observed by the natives, to whom he was an object of much curiosity, and to whom his presence among the Kendalls was a matter of wide and varied conjecture. The younger element especially showed an undisguised interest in all that he did, whispering and laughing among themselves in a way which, to Checkers, was most exasperating.

There is something about a city-bred youth--his manner, his clothes, his well-groomed look, his unconscious air of superiority--which is antagonistic to country prejudice. Such prejudice is not hard to remove, and generally disappears upon short acquaintance. But the initiation is very trying, and Checkers felt the ordeal keenly.

"Say, Arthur," he said, as Kendall pa.s.sed, "if some of those guys do n't chase themselves, and quit whisperin' around, and givin' me the rah-rah, there 's going to be a fight or a foot race, and your Uncle Dudley won't be in front."

"Why, they're all right," said Arthur, soothingly. "They're interested in you, because you 're a stranger. But they do n't mean the slightest harm. You know 'a cat may look at a king.'"

"Yes, I know 'a cat may look at a king,' but she 'd better not see any flies on the king, if she wants to keep her health and strength," and Checkers continued arranging a show-case.