Checkers: A Hard-luck Story

IX

The succeeding days brought one continuous round of simple pleasures. Christmas and the holidays followed hard upon the wedding, and New Year's Day being Sunday, Pert invited the members of the wedding party to the house for from Friday to the Monday following.

At this season of the year there was nothing of actual work to be done upon the place, and Checkers was free to hunt with the men or drive with the girls, as he elected.

Whether it be for the reason that "misery loves company," or for the much more probable and kindly reason that "our truest happiness lies in making others happy," it is certain that most young married couples have a very strong "weakness" for match-making. And Pert and Checkers were no exception to this rule.

They decided that Arthur's truest good demanded that he marry Sadie; and poor little Sadie showed but too plainly in what direction her happiness lay.

But in spite of Pert's well-laid plans to leave them in quiet corners together, in spite of her many little tactful suggestions, Arthur remained unresponsive. He was attentive in a perfunctory way, but that was all. And often Pert would blush to find him gazing at her with a wistful, far-away look in his eyes, which told more surely than words what was in his heart. In fact, Sadie timidly suggested to Pert one day that Arthur was always distrait and silent after seeing her and Checkers together; and that instead of making him desire a domestic little home of his own, it seemed to embitter and sour him.

So, after the house party Checkers settled down to serious life on a farm, and Pert busied herself with housekeeping, learning to cook from her neat old colored servant "Mandy," trying new dishes herself, and doing the thousand and one little things that go to make up "a woman's work," which 't is said "is never done" – "done," of course, in the sense of "finished."

And so the winter glided quickly into spring – the spring of '93; a year that many of us will long remember.

One evening Checkers unfolded to Pert a long-cherished scheme, which delighted her. This was nothing less than a plan to take her to Chicago in May to see the World's Fair. "We 'll call it our wedding trip, little girl," he said caressingly, "and we won't be gone but ten days or two weeks."

But when Mr. Barlow heard of it, "he made a monkey of himself," as Checkers put it. He ranted and swore, and told them both they would end in the poorhouse with their reckless extravagance. But Checkers laughed him off good-naturedly. He knew that the trip would be expensive; but he felt that he could afford it, and he had another and a deeper reason for taking Pert to Chicago. He was greatly worried about her health, and he desired to have her consult some eminent physician regarding herself.

One day, when they were out for a walk, she had run a playful race with him along a level stretch of road, bending every energy to beat him. He was running easily behind her, puffing and grunting to make her think that she was really worsting him, when suddenly she stumbled, tottered, and, putting her hand to her heart, sank limply upon a bed of leaves at the side of the road. In an instant Checkers was kneeling beside her. She had not fainted, but was as pale as death, and she still held her hand to her heart and gasped for breath. Checkers loosened her gown about her throat, then filling his hat with water at a little stream near by, he bathed her brow and wet her lips. Fully an hour passed before she was able with his assistance to walk to the house, and though about, next day apparently as well as ever, she complained thereafter, at intervals, of dizziness, chilly sensations and strange flutterings at her heart.

The local doctor joked her about the size of her waist, and told her that her trouble was probably due to a combination of lacing and indigestion. But to Checkers he confided a fear that there might be some affection of the heart, and earnestly advised that he consult some worthy specialist.

So, while Checkers told nothing of his apprehensions to Pert, he would brook no interference in his plans. The middle of May they left the house in care of "Mandy," and set out for the land of "The Great White City."

What delight they found in roaming about through those wonderful buildings and marvelous displays! Checkers, alert and all-observing, Pert, enthusiastic and wondering – they spent whole days in a single building or upon the ever-interesting Midway.

Checkers had found cozy quarters in a small hotel not far from the grounds, but they lunched and dined where it suited them best. Thus it chanced that one night, when they were going to the theater, they dined beforehand at Kinsley's, as related by Checkers in the opening chapters.

Meanwhile, Checkers did not neglect the more serious part of his mission. He hunted up Murray, who was surprised and glad to see him, and who evinced a genuine interest in the story of his marital felicity.

Upon the matter of a doctor for Pert, Murray happened to know "just the man," a friend of his, to whom he gave Checkers a letter of introduction. Checkers called and explained the case to the doctor, and the next day Pert underwent a thorough examination. Checkers awaited the verdict anxiously. In effect it was this: her heart action was weak, and at times irregular, but there was no reason to apprehend but what, with a careful diet, regular exercise, plenty of sleep and fresh air, she would live as long as the average woman, and fully recover from the troublesome symptoms which sudden over-exertion had brought upon her. Violent exercise and excitement, however, were especially to be avoided; and the use of all stimulants, narcotics and anaesthetics must be set down as dangerous in the extreme.

Checkers breathed a sigh of relief. He had warned the doctor to make as light of the case to Pert as his conscience would permit, explaining that he himself would tell her gradually, as fitting occasion offered, what had been said to him, and would see that all instructions were carefully carried out. Violent exercise she was already warned against, and Checkers felt that he could guard her against unusual excitement. He carefully avoided the harrowing plays at the theater, but took her to operas and burlesques. But it never occurred to him as necessary to warn her specifically against stimulants and drugs.

A few days before their departure for home, they received a pleasant surprise in the shape of a telegram from Arthur and Sadie, announcing their marriage.

A letter from Sadie arrived the next day, in which she said that she and Arthur had hoped to join them in Chicago and surprise them, but that conditions were such at the store that Arthur's every available moment was demanded, and he could not possibly get away. But this was not the half of it. The panic of '93, of which premonitory notice had been given by numerous bank failures, was now a stern reality. Collections were bad, business was dead, and the firm of Kendall & Co., which had unfortunately laid in a larger stock of goods than usual that season, found it all they could do to keep themselves from going to the wall.

Checkers and Pert returned and soon fell into their accustomed grooves. They called upon Arthur and Sadie, and found them reasonably happy under new conditions, although Arthur was evidently carrying a load of care and responsibility; while Judge Martin sat up and cheerfully predicted "confusion and every evil work" as a result of the demonetization of silver and other kindred political "outrages."

One morning as Checkers was working about the dooryard, he espied his father-in-law coming up the road at a gait which presaged important news. The old man reached him, out of breath. Checkers waited expectantly.

"Well, what do ye think has happened now?" panted Mr. Barlow. "The First National Bank of Little Rock has gone up – busted; got yer money."

There was in his voice and manner something of the triumph that mean spirits feel at being the first to bring disastrous news, as well as a show of personal injury at the thought of Checkers allowing himself to lose what he himself had even the shadow of an interest in.

"My God!" exclaimed Checkers involuntarily, growing pale at the news. Then for a moment he stood in silence, nervously biting his upper lip. He had had long experience in controlling himself under trying circumstances. "If that's so," he finally answered in a quiet voice, "it 's tough."

This exasperated Mr. Barlow. "Tough," he repeated; "you nincompoop, it's actual ruin; the bank has been robbed by its president – looted – ye 'll never see a cent of it ag'in," and he started toward the house.

"Hold on!" exclaimed Checkers, grabbing him by the arm. "Not a word of this to Pert; it will only excite her, and not do any good."

But the old man shook him off and continued his way. Checkers picked up a handy piece of scantling, and running up the steps, turned and faced his father-in-law.

"Now, see here, old man," he exclaimed, "I 've taken as much of your slack as I 'm going to – see? I tell you you can't come into this house; and I give you fair warning, if you put your foot on one of those steps I 'll smash you over the head;" and he swung his weapon threateningly to his shoulder. "What I 've made or lost is mine, not yours," he continued, "and it don't 'cut any pie' with you – you'll never get a cent of it. My wife is mine, not yours, and I 'll take care of her, what ever happens. But she is n't well, and the doctor said any sudden excitement might kill her. I 'll tell her gradually and quietly, and go down to Little Rock this noon and see if there 's anything can be done. If I 'd let you tell her you 'd break the news with an ax, and I tell you I ain't going to have it; so just 'jar loose,' and 'pull your freight.'"

There was something in Checkers' determined look which cowed the old man, but he would n't go without a last word. "Well, ye 'll both o' ye end a couple of paupers and die in the poorhouse if this keeps up," he said, "with your fancy furniture and trips to Chicago. How much did you have in that bank?"

Just here Pert appeared in the doorway. Checkers' threatening attitude and her father's question, which she overheard, surprised and startled her. "What is it?" she cried, putting her arm around Checkers and disarming him gently.

"Nothing much," he began.

"Nothing much," interrupted her father, "except that the Little Rock bank is busted, and all yer money's gone."

Checkers reached for his stick, but Pert restrained him. "Never mind, dearest," she said, "it may not be as bad as you think – things never are; and we 've got the house and the farm, and the bonds; and, whatever happens, we 've got each other."

"Yes; you 've got each other," said the old man cynically, "and that's all ye will have, if things goes this way. If yer goin' to Little Rock, boy," he said sharply, consulting his old silver watch, "ye must hurry; ye ain't more 'n time to make it now."

Checkers saw that this was so, and going to his room, made a hasty toilet. "Good-bye, Pert, darling," he said, as he emerged, catching her up and embracing her lovingly. "I 'll be back soon; don't mind what he says;" and with a warning glance at Mr. Barlow, he hurried off down the road toward the station.

As he stood upon the platform awaiting the train he felt a sudden presentiment of evil, and with a superstition born of his early experience in gambling, he half decided to turn back. "I 've got a feeling I ought n't to go," he muttered; "but I guess it's because I 'm afraid the old man will worry Pert. Still, she seemed to take it calm enough, and I ought to get there and look after my stuff." He boarded the train and went steaming off, but he could not get rid of his bugaboo.

The situation with Checkers at this time was about as follows: Of the legacy left him, $20,000 had gone for the farm, or fruit ranch, which he had given Pert. A thousand more had been spent in refitting and furnishing the house. Most of the wedding expenses, which Checkers had assumed, Part's presents, an elaborate wardrobe for himself, the household expenses, and the trip to Chicago, had consumed about another thousand. The balance, except ten government bonds and a few hundred dollars in the bank at Clarksville, was on deposit at interest in this bank which failed – $4,800, for which he held a certificate of deposit. It was very unfortunate, and the sense of his loss kept growing upon him as time went on.

Meanwhile Mr. Barlow had taken occasion to lecture Pert on her sinful extravagance. With pencil and paper he sat before her, and showed her how within six short months she and Checkers had spent one-tenth of their fortune, and how with this loss at the bank they were poorer by a third of all they had ever possessed.

"Figures won't lie, but liars will figure." He knew, but he did not tell her, that of what was actual expense there would be little cause for its repetition, and that most of the money expended was visible in assets of one sort or another. He only made her feel perfectly miserable, and wrought her up beyond the point of thinking or answering intelligently.

When he had gone she tried for a while to busy herself about the house, but she felt a growing lonesomeness – a desire for sympathy and companionship – and she decided to put on her hat and go down to her cousin Sadie's.

It was now high noon, and a stifling hot day; but she braved the heat of the blistering sun, and trudged along the dusty way to her destination. When she reached the Martins' house she was dizzy and faint from the heat and the blinding glare.

Judge Martin and Arthur came home to dinner, and both expressed the greatest sympathy for her and Checkers in their sudden misfortune. At the table Pert tried to eat for appearance's sake, but her efforts ended in mere pretense. Sadie noticed it, and insisted that after dinner she go to a room on the cool side of the house and "take a nap." To this Pert objected. "I can never sleep during the day," she said; "the longer I lie, the wider awake I get. I am really all right," she added, smiling bravely, "only my head aches – a very little."

"We'll soon fix that," exclaimed Arthur. "I 've been troubled with headache and sleeplessness lately, myself, and I 've struck a remedy that beats anything you ever saw; knocks a headache, and makes you sleep like an infant. It's perfectly harmless, too – guaranteed. Excuse me a minute; I'll get the box."