The Making of Mary | Page 7

my wife and family, which bade
me stay where I was, when a young lady jumped the snow ridge at the
edge of the sidewalk and flung herself at the bit of the nearest horse.
The powerful animal swung her right off her feet, but he was checked
for an instant, and in that instant a young man seized the mate on the
other side; the team was stopped and surrounded by a crowd directly.
Then I saw it was Mary Mason who was the heroine of the drama. She
withdrew from the throng, straightened her flat hat above her rosy face,
and walked off with her habitual indifferent air.
"She's got good grit, that girl," said I to myself, but I thought no more
about her till I came home on a certain evening in March, and found her
comfortably ensconced on one side of our nursery fire, while my
mother from the other side cast suspicious glances at her over her
spectacles. "Miss Mason," had supper with us, and then I retired to my
big leather-covered spring rocker in the parlor to await developments.
That chair needs to be approached with deference, for it has a
precocious trick of either tilting in the air the feet of any unwary
occupant, or of tipping him out on the floor. I know its disposition, can
preserve my proper balance, and have never been flung either forward

or backward--except once each way.
Presently Belle followed me, "loaded up," as the boys say.
"It seems as if I was never to get free from the responsibility of that
child."
"What's up now?"
"Down town to-day I met the chief of police----"
"Great chum of yours!"
"Yes, indeed. We've had considerable conversation at different times
about some of my cases. To-day he said, 'You're interested in that
young girl, Mary Mason, aint you, Mrs. Gemmell?' 'Yes,' said I, though
my heart sank, and I didn't see why he couldn't have addressed any
other one of the committee; 'anything wrong with her?' 'Not yet,' said
he; 'but there will be pretty soon if somebody doesn't look after her.
There's a scheme on foot to take her off to Chicago--to sell a book--so
they say.' 'Good gracious! Nobody would dare!' 'Wouldn't they,
though?' said he. 'There's a well-known drummer in this town at the
bottom of it. He's aware the girl has no friends, and in Chicago she
don't even know a soul. It's too bad, for I've had my eye on the young
woman all winter, and she's kept perfectly straight.'
"You may think, Dave, that I ought to be hardened to horrors by this
time, but I became fairly dazed as the chief of police went on to say, 'I
can't move in the matter. We never can touch these things until the
mischief is done; but if you like to make inquiries, you'll find out that
I've been telling you the truth.'
"When he left me, I turned to come home, not knowing what to do, but
going round the first corner, didn't I run right into Mary Mason herself!
I hadn't laid eyes on her for a couple of months. 'How d'ye do, Mrs.
Gemmell?' she said, for I stopped and stared at her as if she'd been a
white crow. 'What about "Darkest Africa?"' I found breath to ask,
though it was Darkest Chicago I had in my mind. 'I've done with that

now,' she said; 'did very well, too.' 'And what are you going to do next?'
'I dunno. Whatever turns up. I've got an offer to go to Chicago to sell a
book there.' I caught her by the arm as if I'd been the chief of police.
'Mary, will you please go to my house and wait there for me till I
come?' 'Oh, yes, mawm, if you want me to,' and off she went, asking no
questions.
"Well, Dave, I've put in four hours of amateur detective work this
afternoon, and I feel as if I needed a moral bath. I found out it was all
true, as the chief of police had said. There was a plot to ruin the girl,
and I don't think the author of it will forget his interview with me in a
hurry."
"What good will that do the young woman? There are plenty more of
his kind in the world, and with her inherited tendencies I suppose it's
only a question of time--how soon she goes to the bad."
"David Gemmell!"
It is worth while making a caustic speech occasionally to see Isabel rise
to her full height. Her brown eyes positively emit sparks, and her gray
hair, which she wears waved and parted, gives her an air of distinction
that would not be out of place upon an avenging spirit.