The Devils Garden | Page 5

let

Number One overshadow the situation. You've drawn it all too personal
to yourself."
"I don't see that," said Dale, forcibly, almost hotly. "It's the principle I
stand for--pretty near as much as for myself."
"Ah, yes, just so," said Mr. Ridgett. "And now I'm going to ask you to
help me find a bedroom somewhere handy, and put me up to knowing
where I'd best get my meals;" and he laughed cheerfully. "Don't think
I'm establishing myself--but one may as well be comfortable, if one can.
And I do give you this tip. You're in for what we used to call the devil's
dance up there. Cæsar is a slow mover. I mean, it won't be 'Step this
way, Mr. Dale. Walk in this minute.' They'll keep you on the dance. I
should take all you're likely to want for a week--at the least."
Dale made arrangements for the future comfort of the visitor, and
hospitably insisted that he should take his first substantial meal
up-stairs.
"It's served at seven sharp," said Dale; "and we make it a meat tea; but
you aren't restricted to non-alcolic bev'rages."
"Oh, tea is more than good enough for me, thank you."
"Mavis," said Dale, introducing his guest, "this is Mr. Ridgett, who is
so kind as to honor us without ceremony." And, as if to demonstrate the
absence of ceremony, he put his arm round his wife's waist and kissed
her.
Mr. Ridgett smiled, and opened conversation in a very pleasant easy
fashion.
"From the look of things," he said facetiously, "I hazard the guess that
you two aren't long home from the honeymoon."
"You're off the line there," said Dale. "We're quite an old Darby and
Joan."
"Really!" And Mr. Ridgett's smile, as he regarded Mrs. Dale, expressed
admiration and surprise. "Appearances are deceitful. And how long
may you have been running in double harness?"
"Eleven years," said Dale.
"Never! Any children?"
"No," said Mrs. Dale.
"No," said her husband. "We haven't been blessed that way--not as
yet."
"I note the addition. Not as yet! Very neatly put." Mr. Ridgett laughed,

and bowed gallantly to Mrs. Dale. "Plenty of time for any amount of
blessings."
Then they all sat down to the table.
During the course of the meal, and again when it was over, they spoke
of the business that lay before Dale on the morrow.
"I've ventured to tell your husband that perhaps he has been taking it all
too seriously."
"Oh, has he? I'm so glad to hear you say it." And Mavis Dale, with her
elbows on the table, leaned forward and watched the deputy's face
intently.
"Too much of the personal equation."
"Yes?"
"What I say is, little accidents happen to all of us--but they blow over."
Mavis Dale drew in her breath, and her eyebrows contracted. "Mr.
Ridgett! The way you say that, shows you really think it's serious for
him."
"Oh, I don't in the least read it up as ruin and all the rest of it. It's just a
check. In Mr. Dale's place, I should be philosophical. I should say,
'This is going to put me back a bit, but nothing else.'"
Dale shrugged his shoulders and snorted. Mrs. Dale's eyebrows had
drawn so close together that they almost touched; her eyes appeared
darker, smaller, more opaque. Mr. Ridgett continued talking in a tone
of light facetiousness that seemed to cover a certain deprecating
earnestness.
"Yes, that would be my point of view--quite general, philosophical. I
should say to myself, 'Old chap, if you're in for a jolly good wigging,
why, just take it. If you're to be offered a little humble pie to eat--well,
eat it.'"
"I won't," cried Dale, loudly; and he struck the table with his clenched
fist. "I'm not goin' to crawl on my belly any more. I've done it in my
time, when perhaps I felt myself wrong. But I won't do it now when I'm
right--no, so help me, God, I won't."
It was as if all restraints had been burst by the notion of such injustice.
"Ah, well," said Ridgett, looking uncomfortable, "then I must withdraw
the suggestion."
Mavis Dale was trembling. Her husband's noisy outburst seemed to
have shaken her nerves; the downward lines formed themselves at the

corners of her mouth; and her eyelids fluttered as if she were on the
verge of tears. "Will," she murmured, "you--you ought to listen, if it's
good advice. Mr. Ridgett knows the ropes--he, he has experience--and
he means you well."
"Indeed I do," said Ridgett cordially.
"And I thank you for it, sir," said Dale. "And now--" He mastered his
emotions and was calm and polite again, as became a host. "Now, what
about two or three whiffs?"
"If madam permits."
"Mav don't mind. She's smoke-dried."
All three remained