In The Bishop's Carriage [53]
it from a clerk who--but never mind that. It's the blacklisting I'm talking about now. Gray's just been in to see me, to let me know that she quits at the end of the season. And his Lordship, too, of course. You're not burdened with a contract, Nance. Perhaps you'd better think it over seriously for a day or two and decide if it wouldn't be best--"
"I don't have to," I interrupted then.
"Nance!" he cried, jumping up, as though he'd been relieved of half his troubles.
"I don't have to think it over," I went on slowly, not looking at the hand he held out to me. "It doesn't take long to know that when you're between the devil and the deep sea, you'd better try--the devil rather than be forced out into the wet."
"What?--you don't mean--"
I knew he was looking at me incredulously, but I just wouldn't meet his eye.
"My staying with you will do you no good--" was hurrying now to get it over with--"and it would do me a lot of harm. I think you're right, Mr. Obermuller; I'd better just go over to where it's warm. They'll be glad to get me and--and, to tell the truth, I'll be glad to get in with the Syndicate, even if I can't make as good terms as I might have by selling that contract, which--like the famous conspiracy you're half mad about--never existed."
He sat down on the edge of the desk. I caught one glimpse of his face. It was black; that was enough for me. I turned to go.
"Ah, but it did, Miss Olden, it did!" he sneered.
"I won't believe it on the word of a man that's been in the lunatic asylum ever since he lost his theater."
"Perhaps you'll believe it on mine."
I jumped. "On yours!"
"Didn't that little bully, when he lost his temper that day at the Van Twiller, when we had our last fight--didn't he pull a paper out of his box and shake it in my face, and--"
"But--you could have them arrested for conspiracy and--"
"And the proof of it could be destroyed and then--but I can't see how this interests you."
"No--no," I said thoughtfully. "I only happened to lump it in with the contract we haven't--you and I. And as there's no contract, why there's no need of my waiting till the end of the season."
"Do you mean to say you'd--you'd--"
"If 'twere done, 'twere better it'd be done--quickly," I said Macbethically.
He looked at me. Sitting there on his desk, his clenched fist on his knee, he looked for a moment as though he was about to fly at me. Then all of a sudden he slipped into his chair, leaned back and laughed.
It wasn't a pleasant laugh, Mag. No--wait. Let me tell you the rest.
"You are so shrewd, Olden, so awfully shrewd! Your eye is so everlastingly out for the main chance, and you're still so young that I predict a--a great future for you. I might even suggest that by cultivating Tausig personally--"
"You needn't."
"No, you're right; I needn't. You can discount any suggestion I might make. You just want to be the first to go over, eh? To get there before Gray does--to get all there is in it for the first rebel that lays down his arms; not to come in late when submission is stale--and cheap. Don't worry about terms, you poor little babe in the woods. Don't--" His own words seemed to choke him.
"Don't you think--" I began a bit unsteadily.
"I think--oh, what a fool I've been!"
That stiffened me.
"Of course, you have," I said cordially. "It's silly to fight the push, isn't it? It's only the cranks that get cocky and think they can upset the fellows on top. The thing to do is to find out which is the stronger--if you're a better man than the other fellow, down him. If he's the champion, enlist under him. But be in it. What's the use of being a kicker all your life? You only let some one else come in for the soft things, while you stay outside and gnaw your finger-nails and plot and plan and starve. You spend your life hoping to live to-morrow, while the Tausigs are living high to-day. The thing to do is to be humble if you can't be arrogant. If they've got you in the door, don't curse, but placate them. Think of Gaffney
"I don't have to," I interrupted then.
"Nance!" he cried, jumping up, as though he'd been relieved of half his troubles.
"I don't have to think it over," I went on slowly, not looking at the hand he held out to me. "It doesn't take long to know that when you're between the devil and the deep sea, you'd better try--the devil rather than be forced out into the wet."
"What?--you don't mean--"
I knew he was looking at me incredulously, but I just wouldn't meet his eye.
"My staying with you will do you no good--" was hurrying now to get it over with--"and it would do me a lot of harm. I think you're right, Mr. Obermuller; I'd better just go over to where it's warm. They'll be glad to get me and--and, to tell the truth, I'll be glad to get in with the Syndicate, even if I can't make as good terms as I might have by selling that contract, which--like the famous conspiracy you're half mad about--never existed."
He sat down on the edge of the desk. I caught one glimpse of his face. It was black; that was enough for me. I turned to go.
"Ah, but it did, Miss Olden, it did!" he sneered.
"I won't believe it on the word of a man that's been in the lunatic asylum ever since he lost his theater."
"Perhaps you'll believe it on mine."
I jumped. "On yours!"
"Didn't that little bully, when he lost his temper that day at the Van Twiller, when we had our last fight--didn't he pull a paper out of his box and shake it in my face, and--"
"But--you could have them arrested for conspiracy and--"
"And the proof of it could be destroyed and then--but I can't see how this interests you."
"No--no," I said thoughtfully. "I only happened to lump it in with the contract we haven't--you and I. And as there's no contract, why there's no need of my waiting till the end of the season."
"Do you mean to say you'd--you'd--"
"If 'twere done, 'twere better it'd be done--quickly," I said Macbethically.
He looked at me. Sitting there on his desk, his clenched fist on his knee, he looked for a moment as though he was about to fly at me. Then all of a sudden he slipped into his chair, leaned back and laughed.
It wasn't a pleasant laugh, Mag. No--wait. Let me tell you the rest.
"You are so shrewd, Olden, so awfully shrewd! Your eye is so everlastingly out for the main chance, and you're still so young that I predict a--a great future for you. I might even suggest that by cultivating Tausig personally--"
"You needn't."
"No, you're right; I needn't. You can discount any suggestion I might make. You just want to be the first to go over, eh? To get there before Gray does--to get all there is in it for the first rebel that lays down his arms; not to come in late when submission is stale--and cheap. Don't worry about terms, you poor little babe in the woods. Don't--" His own words seemed to choke him.
"Don't you think--" I began a bit unsteadily.
"I think--oh, what a fool I've been!"
That stiffened me.
"Of course, you have," I said cordially. "It's silly to fight the push, isn't it? It's only the cranks that get cocky and think they can upset the fellows on top. The thing to do is to find out which is the stronger--if you're a better man than the other fellow, down him. If he's the champion, enlist under him. But be in it. What's the use of being a kicker all your life? You only let some one else come in for the soft things, while you stay outside and gnaw your finger-nails and plot and plan and starve. You spend your life hoping to live to-morrow, while the Tausigs are living high to-day. The thing to do is to be humble if you can't be arrogant. If they've got you in the door, don't curse, but placate them. Think of Gaffney