The sun sank into the prairie and tinted the sky all red and green and gold where it shone through the rents in the ragged clouds of purple black. The glowing colors touching dull, weather-beaten steeples and factory stacks, changed them to objects of interest and beauty. The poisonous smoke from smelter and engine, that hung always over the town like a heavy veil, shot through with the brilliant rays, became a sea of color that drifted here and there, tumbled and tossed by the wind, while above, the ball of the newly painted flag-staff on the courthouse tower gleamed like a signal lamp from another world. And through it all, the light reflected from a hundred windows flashed and blazed in wondrous glory, until the city seemed a dream of unearthly splendor and fairy loveliness, in which the people moved in wonder and in awe. Only for a moment it lasted. A heavy cloud curtain was drawn hurriedly across the west as though the scene in its marvelous beauty was too sacred for the gaze of men whose souls were dwarfed by baser visions. For an instant a single star gleamed above the curtain in the soft green of the upper sky; then it too vanished, blotted out by the flying forerunners of the coming storm.
About nine o'clock, when the first wild fury of the gale had passed, a man, muffled in a heavy coat and with a soft hat pulled low over his face, made his way along the deserted streets. In front of the Goodrich hardware and implement store, he stopped and looked carefully about as though in fear of some observer. Then taking a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and entered. Walking quickly through the room to the office, as though familiar with the place, he knelt before the big safe, his hand upon the knob that worked the combination. A moment later the heavy door yielded to his hand. Taking a bunch of keys from his pocket, he selected one without hesitation, and upon applying it, the cash box opened, revealing a large sum of money. Catching up a package of bills, he placed it in his side coat pocket, and locking the cash box again, was closing the safe, when he paused as though struck with a sudden thought. The storm without seemed to be renewing its strength. The dashing of sleet and snow against the windows, the howling of the wind, the weird singing of the wires, and the sharp banging of swinging signs and shutters, carried terror to the heart of the man kneeling in the dimly lighted office. Sinking on the floor, he buried his face in his hands and moaned aloud, "My God--What am I doing? What if I should fail?"
Again there came a lull in the storm; everything grew hushed and still, almost as if the very spirit of the night waited breathlessly the result of the battle fought in the breast of the tempted man. Rising slowly to his knees, he swung back the heavy doors and once more unlocking the cash box reached out to replace the package of bills; but with the money before his eyes he paused again. Then with a sudden exclamation, "I won't fail this time; I can't lose always," he quickly closed the safe, and with the money in his pocket, sprang to his feet and hurried out of the building, where the storm met him in all its fury, as though striving to wrest from him that which he had taken from another. But with set face and clenched fists, he pushed into the gale, and a few minutes later knocked at the door of a room on the top floor of a big hotel. He was admitted and greeted cordially by two men who were drinking and smoking.
"Hello Frank," they exclaimed; "We thought you had crawfished this time sure. What makes you so late; it is nearly ten?"
"Oh, the old man had some work for me, of course. What a beastly night. Where's Whitley?" He tried to speak carelessly, but his eyes wavered and his hands trembled as he unbuttoned his heavy coat.
"You're right; this storm's a ripper. Jim will be back in a minute; he just stepped down to the corner drug-store to see a man. Here he is now;" as another low knock sounded on the door, and the fourth man entered, shaking the snow from his fur-trimmed coat.
"Pile out of your duds, boys, and have a drink. Good liquor hits the spot a night like this."
Whitley grasped the proffered glass eagerly and emptied it without a word, but Frank refused.
"You know I don't drink," he said, shortly; "take it yourself if you need it, and let's get to work." He drew a chair to the table in the center of the room.
The others laughed as they took their places, and one said, as he shuffled a deck of cards: "We forgot you were a church member." And the other added, with a sneer, "Maybe you'd like to open the services with a song and prayer."
"You drop that and mind your own business," retorted young Goodrich, angrily. "I'll show you tonight that you can't always have your own way. Did you bring my papers with you?" The others nodded and one said, "Whitley here told us you wanted a chance to win them back before we were obliged to collect. It's to be cash tonight though," added the other; "good cold cash, against the notes we hold."
"For God's sake, shut up and play," growled Frank in reply. "I guess there's cash enough," and he laid the package of bills on the table. Four eyes gleamed in triumph. Whitley looked at the young man keenly and paused with the cards in his hands. Then he dealt and the game began.
Meanwhile Adam Goodrich and his wife were entertaining the whist club, of which they were enthusiastic members, for it was the regular weekly meeting; and though the weather was so rough not a few of the devoted lovers of the game were present.
In the conversation that preceded the play, the Young People's Society, with Dick Falkner's plan of work, was mentioned. Nearly all of the guests being members of different churches, expressed themselves quite freely, with a variety of opinions, until the host, with annoyance plainly expressed on his proud face and in his hard cold voice, said: "You must not think, ladies and gentlemen, that because I and my family are members of the Jerusalem Church, that we agree with Rev. Cameron in his outlandish ideas. We have never been accustomed to associating with such low characters as he delights in forcing us to meet in the congregation; and if he don't change his line of work some, he will drive all the best people to other churches."
The guests all nodded emphatic approval and each silently resolved to send his pastor to interview the Goodrich's without delay.
Adam continued: "As for that tramp printer and his fool plan, I say that it's just such stuff that causes all the discontent among the lower classes and makes them unfit to serve their betters, and that _my_ children shall have nothing to do with it. I have not brought them up to follow the lead of a vagabond and a nobody."
Amy's face flushed painfully and she lifted her head as though to speak, when Mrs. Goodrich silenced her with a look, and skilfully changed the subject by saying: "It's too bad Frank won't be here to-night. He enjoys these evenings so much and plays so well. But he and Mr. Whitley are spending the evening with a sick friend. The dear boy is so thoughtful of others and is always ready to give up his own pleasures. And Mr. Whitley too; he will miss the game so much, and Amy loses a strong partner." The company took the hint and talked of other things until the all-absorbing game began.
And so, while the son played with his friend Whitley, and the two............