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Chapter 6 – Creating a Form on a Web Page

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. A(n) ____ control is any type of input mechanism on a form.

a. variable c. parameter
b. input d. form
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

2. Which of the following controls sends a form to a server for processing?

a. enter c. send
b. reset d. submit
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

3. Which of the following controls returns all input controls to the default status?
a. clear c. reset
b. empty d. new
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

4. Which of the following controls is identical to text fields used for single-line data entry?
a. submit c. password
b. textarea d. radio
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

5. Which of the following controls creates a drop-down menu of choices from which a visitor chooses?
a. select c. menu
b. option d. choice
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

6. Which of the following attributes, when used with the text tag, determines the number of characters
that display on a form?
a. character c. width
b. size d. dimension
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

7. The ____ attribute of the text tag specifies the maximum length of the input field.
a. size c. maxlength
b. limit d. control
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

8. A ____ input control is either a radio button, a check box, a Submit button, a Reset button, or a
selection menu.
a. select c. capture
b. data d. list
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

9. In a ____ box, a visitor may enter small amounts of text.

 a. capture c. text
b. link d. textarea
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

10. The text control has two attributes: ____.

a. cols and rows c. size and maxlength
b. post and get d. width and height
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

11. In a radio control each choice is preceded by a radio ____.

a. menu c. button
b. bar d. either b or c
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

12. A radio button typically displays as which of the following?

a. bullet c. small rectangle
b. open circle d. none of the above
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

13. A ____ control creates a list item in a list from which only one item can be chosen.
a. select c. list
b. solo d. radio
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

14. The type="____" attribute specifies that the type of control is the radio button.
a. radio c. option
b. check d. circle
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

15. With a checkbox control, the default can be changed so a particular check box is preselected as the
default, by using the ____ attribute and value within the <input> tag.
a. chosen c. checked
b. default d. preselect
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

16. The use of which of the following controls prevents the visitor’s having to type information into a text
field?
a. text c. password
b. textarea d. select
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289

17. A(n) ____ control creates a selection menu of choices from which a visitor selects one or more
choices.
a. select c. radio
b. option d. checkbox
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289

18. ____ controls are similar to text controls, except that they allow multiple lines of text input.
 a. Password c. Capture
b. Textarea d. Either a or b
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289

19. The textarea control has two primary attributes: ____.

a. rows and cols c. size and width
b. size and maxlength d. select and option
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289

20. It is a good rule of thumb to keep the number of columns in a textarea to ____ or fewer.
a. 10 c. 25
b. 15 d. 50
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289

21. The ____ attribute identifies the specific information that is being sent when the form is submitted for
processing.
a. spec c. target
b. name d. this
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

22. All controls except one have a ____ attribute.

a. name c. value
b. link d. select
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

23. The <____> tag defines the text that displays in the grouping borders.
a. key c. cluster
b. legend d. aggregate
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

24. The ____ attribute of the <form> tag indicates the URL for the action to be completed by the server.
a. method c. action
b. process d. http
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

25. There are two primary methods to send the form to the server to be processed: ____
a. send and put c. get and put
b. get and post d. CGI and HTML
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

26. Which of the following is a program written in a programming language (such as Perl) that
communicates with the Web server?
a. HTML function c. URL imagemap
b. CGI script d. post method
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

27. The ____ attribute of the <form> tag specifies the manner in which the data entered in the form is sent
to the server to be processed.
 a. process c. http
b. server d. method
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

28. The two values of the ____ attribute in HTML are get and post.
a. process c. http
b. server d. method
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

29. The ____ method sends the name-value pairs to the end of the URL indicated in the action attribute.
a. get c. post
b. base d. serv
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

30. The size=“2” attribute means which of the following?

a. two characters will appear, but more may be entered, depending on the maxlength attribute
b. one character will appear, and the second will be truncated
c. two characters will appear, and no more may be entered
d. at most, two characters can be entered
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 296

31. The default type for the <input /> tag is a ____.
a. radio button c. text box
b. checkbox d. textarea
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 297

32. If no ____ attribute value is specified, a selection menu initially displays only one option, along with a
list arrow to view other choices in the list.
a. default c. size
b. choice d. checked
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 300

33. If a selection menu includes the size attribute with a value of 3, ____ choice(s) will appear in the
menu.
a. one c. three
b. two d. four
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 301

34. If the ____ attribute was not used to create a selection menu, the Web page visitor will be allowed to
select only one choice in the menu.
a. several c. choices
b. many d. multiple
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 302

35. Form controls are useless unless the information entered in the form can be submitted for ____.
a. concatenation c. aggregation
b. processing d. all of the above
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 304
 36. Which of the following tags gives you the option of using an image for a Submit button, rather than
using the default button style?
a. <option> c. <modify>
b. <image button> d. <button>
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 304

37. The <form method=post action=mailto:ahs@isp.com> tag designates that the ____ method will be
used to send data to the appropriate location for processing.
a. mailto c. post
b. form d. action
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 304

38. Which of the following characters strings together all of the form responses?
a. & c. @
b. ! d. %
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 305

39. Which of the following buttons deletes any data previously typed into text or textarea fields?
a. New c. Clear
b. Restore d. Reset
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 305

40. Which of the following attributes specifies a reset button?

a. type=“option” c. reset=“type”
b. master=“reset” d. type=“reset”
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 305

MULTIPLE RESPONSE

Modified Multiple Choice

1. Which of the following is a main component of a Web page form?

a. input controls c. link to a major search engine
b. <form> tag d. Submit button
ANS: A, B, D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

2. A text input control is a ____ box.

a. link c. password text
b. textarea d. text
ANS: B, C, D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

3. Which of the following controls creates a list item?

a. checkbox c. list
b. radio d. dropdown
ANS: A, B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

4. A password always appears as a series of which of the following?

 a. characters c. bullets
b. asterisks d. ampersands
ANS: A, B, C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

5. When a Web page visitor clicks the Submit button on the form, which of the following is sent to be
processed?
a. parameters of the control
b. value of the data contained with the control
c. dimensions of the field
d. name of the control
ANS: B, D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

MODIFIED TRUE/FALSE

1. A text control creates a text box that is used for a single line of input. _________________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

2. By default, all check boxes are pre-selected. _________________________

ANS: F, deselected

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

3. The reset input control sends the information from a form to the appropriate location for processing.
_________________________

ANS: F, submit

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

4. A Web page form must include a Reset button. _________________________

ANS: F, Submit

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

5. The paragraph input control creates a multiple-line field for a relatively large amount of text.
_________________________

ANS: F, textarea

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

TRUE/FALSE

1. Using a Web page form for user input reduces the potential for errors because customers enter data or
select options from the form included directly on the Web page.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 284

 2. A select input control creates a series of check boxes for Web visitors to use.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

3. The maximum length of a text field may exceed the size of the field that displays on the form.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

4. Each choice in a check box list can be either on or off.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

5. A checkbox control allows a Web page visitor to select only one choice from a list of choices.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

6. Multiple radio buttons in the same group can be set to a checked state at the same time.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

7. With check boxes, only one option can be selected at a time.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

8. It is a good rule of thumb to use between 50 and 100 columns of text in a textarea field.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289

9. The resume and send controls create the Reset and Submit buttons.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

10. A Web page form must include a Reset button.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

11. For a textarea field, no value attribute is possible because of the variability of the input.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

12. All options in a selection menu are contained within the <select> and </select> tags.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 292

13. HTML5 includes new attributes for the <input /> tag.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

14. The value attribute of the <input /> tag is optional for radio and checkbox controls.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

15. Few Web sites use CGI scripts to process forms because this is an inefficient way to handle the data
that is sent to a form.
 ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 293

16. The get method sends the name-value pairs to the end of the URL indicated in the action attribute.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

17. The post method is a program written in a programming language that communicates with the Web
server.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

18. Information on forms can be sent by e-mail to an e-mail address or can be used to update a database.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

19. A FORM script sends the information input on a Web page form to the Web server for processing.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

20. If you specify a maximum number of characters that is greater than the number of characters specified
in the size attribute, the additional characters will be cut off.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 296

21. If you do not specify a size attribute in the <select> tag, only one option is displayed, along with a list
arrow.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 300

22. The <legend> tag within the fieldset tag is required.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 306

23. An embedded style sheet changes the style for a single Web page.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 308

24. You should validate the code after the form is completed and view and test it using your browser.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 311

25. When you are collecting information from an online form, it is very important to test that the
information is accurate.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 311

COMPLETION

1. A(n) ____________________ input control is either a text box, a textarea box, or a password text box.

ANS: text
 PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

2. In a(n) ____________________ text box, a visitor may enter a password.

ANS: password

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

3. In a(n) ____________________ box, a visitor may enter larger amounts of text.

ANS: textarea

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

4. The ____________________ attribute of the text control determines the number of characters that
display on the form.

ANS: size

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

5. A(n) ____________________ control tells the browser to send the data on the form to the server.

ANS: submit

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

6. A(n) ____________________ control returns all input controls to the default status.

ANS: reset

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287

7. A(n) ____________________ control creates a list item in a list from which more than one item can
be chosen.

ANS: checkbox

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

8. To set a particular radio button as the default, you use the ____________________ value within the
<input /> tag.

ANS: checked

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

9. A(n) ____________________ button typically appears as an open circle.

ANS:

radio
option
 PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

10. The textarea control uses the ____________________ attribute to specify the number of columns in
the textarea field.

ANS: cols

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289

11. The ____________________ button sends the information to the appropriate location for processing.

ANS: Submit

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 290

12. The <____________________/ > tag defines the controls used in the form, using a variety of type
attribute values.

ANS: input

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

13. The <____________________> tag creates a form that allows user input.

ANS: form

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

14. The ____________________ method sends a separate data file with the name-value pairs to the URL
(or e-mail address) indicated in the action attribute.

ANS: post

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 294

15. When the ____________________ attribute specifies the same number of characters as the size
attribute, all characters entered by a user will appear in the text box.

ANS: maxlength

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 296

16. To select multiple choices in a selection menu, a user must first select one choice and then press and
hold the ____________________ key while clicking other choices in the list.

ANS: CTRL

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 301

17. To select several consecutive choices in a selection menu, a user must first select one choice and then
press and hold the ____________________ key while selecting the last choice.

ANS: SHIFT
 PTS: 1 REF: HTML 301

18. The ____________________ button clears any input that was entered in the form, restoring the input
controls back to the initial values.

ANS: Reset

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 304

19. The ____________________ control helps to group related form elements together.

ANS: fieldset

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 306

20. Using ____________________ is especially helpful in cases where some information is required and
some is optional.

ANS: grouping

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 306

MATCHING

Identify the letter of the choice that best matches the phrase or definition.
a. data input f. select
b. checkbox g. textarea
c. attributes h. password
d. radio button i. select control
e. input j. target
1. The use of asterisks, for example, to mark the entered text in this kind of field is designed to help
protect text from being observed as it is being entered
2. When one of these is selected, all of the other ones in the list are deselected automatically
3. This category of control eliminates a visitor's having to type information into a text or textarea field
4. This kind of field is useful when an extensive amount of input from the Web page visitors is required
or desired
5. This kind of input control creates a list item
6. If a choice in a selection menu is highlighted, it means that this attribute has been used for that choice
7. This kind of control either can be a radio button, a check box, a Submit button, or a Reset button
8. These kinds of controls either are HTML tags or attributes of HTML tags
9. Nearly all of the HTML tags used to create forms have at most one of these each
10. This attribute of the <form> tag indicates the location at which a resource will display

1. ANS: H PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288

2. ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288
3. ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289
4. ANS: G PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289
5. ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288
6. ANS: I PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289
7. ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 287
8. ANS: E PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291
 9. ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291
10. ANS: J PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291

ESSAY

1. Briefly list the HTML tags used to create forms, including their functions and any relevant remarks
about their use.

ANS:
<fieldset></fieldset> -- groups related controls on a form; it is optionally used for readability
<form></form> -- creates a form that allows user input; it is required when creating forms
<input /> -- defines the controls used in the form, using a variety of type attribute values; it is required
for input controls
<legend></legend> -- defines the caption that is displayed in the grouping borders; it is optionally
used when using <fieldset> tags
<option></option> -- specifies a choice in a <select> tag; it is required, one per choice
<select></select> -- creates a menu of choices from which a visitor selects; it is required for selection
choices
<textarea></textarea> -- creates a multiple-line text input area; it is required for longer text inputs that
appear on several lines

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291 TOP: Critical Thinking

2. Explain in detail the difference between the action and method attributes of the <form> tag. Be sure to
include a definition of CGI script, and the get and post method in your explanation.

ANS:
The action attribute of the <form> tag specifies the action that is taken when the form is submitted.
Information entered in forms can be sent by e-mail to an e-mail address or can be used to update a
database. Although the e-mail option is functional, many Web sites process information from forms
using Common Gateway Interface (CGI) scripting. A CGI script is a program written in a
programming language (such as PHP or Perl) that communicates with the Web server. The CGI script
sends the information input on the Web page form to the server for processing.

The method attribute of the <form> tag specifies the manner in which the data entered in the form is
sent to the server to be processed. Two primary ways are used in HTML: the get method and the post
method. The get method sends the name-value pairs to the end of the URL indicated in the action
attribute. The post method sends a separate data file with the name-value pairs to the URL (or e-mail
address) indicated in the action attribute. Most Web developers prefer the post method because it is
much more flexible. You need to be cautious when using the get method. Some Web servers limit a
URL’s size, so you run the risk of truncating relevant information when using the get method.

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 293-HTML 294 TOP: Critical Thinking

3. Describe in detail the four steps involved in creating an effective form.

ANS:
Before creating a Web page form, you should plan how you want to format it. By effectively utilizing
input controls, you can call attention to important data-collection areas on the Web page without
overpowering it. Creating an effective form includes:
 1. Determine what data to collect. In the case of a form designed to collect information, you need the
visitor’s name and e-mail address. Make sure to provide enough space for each field so that you do not
cut out important information. For instance, a last name field only 5 characters long may cut out much
of the person’s last name.
2. Determine what types of control to use. For data such as name and e-mail address, you need text
input areas. For data such as favorite Internet radio station, there is generally a limited subset (e.g.,
Google, Live 365, Pandora, and Slacker), so a selection control is appropriate. When you ask what
kind of music the visitor is interested in listening to or buying, you can use check boxes, which allow
multiple selection. In the case of a question with only one appropriate answer (e.g., select your
favorite), a radio button is more appropriate.
3. Lay out the input areas effectively. One of the first input items you may want is the visitor’s name
and e-mail address information. That should go to the top of the page. Also, you can group information
together on the same line if it makes sense to make the Web page form short enough that visitors do
not have to scroll much. Collecting e-mail addresses is a great way to continue communication with
visitors or customers. A company can e-mail newsletters, coupons, and general information to
customers once they have their e-mail addresses.
4. Use grouping techniques for clarity. The last thing that you may want to do on a Web page form is
group like input items together. Use the fieldset tag to segregate personal information from preference
information and from other comments that the visitor might make.

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 295-HTML 296 TOP: Critical Thinking

CASE

Critical Thinking Questions

Case 6-1

Brendan is trying to familiarize himself in a hurry with the various form input controls. He has a sense
of the general function of each but not of the nuances among them.

1. What does Brendan learn is the key difference between the checkbox and radio controls?
a. The checkbox control indicates both the size of the field and the total maximum length,
and radio control indicates neither.
b. The checkbox control allows more than one item in a list to be chosen, and the radio
control indicates only one item in a list that can be chosen.
c. The radio control allows more than one item in a list to be chosen, and the checkbox
control indicates only one item in a list that can be chosen.
d. The radio control returns all input controls to the default status, and the radio button tells
the browser to send the data on the form to the server.

ANS:
B

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 288 TOP: Critical Thinking

2. Brendan has a list of 30 different options for a user to select from a given list. Which of the following
controls is the best match for his need?
a. select
b. checkbox
c. radio
d. any of the above

ANS:
 A

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 289 TOP: Critical Thinking

Critical Thinking Questions

Case 6-2

Jacqueline is inheriting a segment of code from a developer who has left the firm. The problem is that
the code became corrupted on a portion of the server during a recent crash and she has to reconstruct a
lot of it.

3. One portion of the code Jacqueline is reconstructing includes a reference to the name attribute, but the
HTML tag is missing. Which of the following tags CANNOT be the tag in question?
a. <input />
b. <select></select>
c. <option></option>
d. <textarea></textarea>

ANS:
C

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 291-HTML 292 TOP: Critical Thinking

4. Another portion of the code Jacqueline is reconstructing includes a reference to the readonly attribute.
Which HTML tag must be in use?
a. <textarea></textarea>
b. <option></option>
c. <select></select>
d. <legend></legend>

ANS:
A

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 292 TOP: Critical Thinking

Other documents randomly have
different content
“Would you have been ‘disgusted’ with me,” she asked, “if it had
been I instead of you that—?”
“You know blame well I wouldn’t!” he declared, “An’ I’d a’licked ev’ry
man in the place that dared to laugh or look sneerin’. I’d a’—”
“That’s just what I wanted to do,” said Desirée. “If I was cross
inside, it wasn’t at you, dear boy.”
“I’ll win out on ’em yet,” growled Conover. “I made a mistake. An’
I’m ashamed of it. The only feller who’s never ashamed of his
mistakes is a loonatic. And I ain’t a loonatic, by a long shot. I’m
ashamed. But I’ll win.”
“Listen to me!” she demanded, “If there was a big, lovable, splendid
child you knew and he insisted on going to play with children who
hadn’t the sense to see how fine he was and what good company he
could be, it wouldn’t make you angry at him, would it, if he got
laughed at for not understanding their stiff, set ways? Of course not.
But when he’d had his lesson and had burned his poor stubby
fingers, wouldn’t it make you just the least little bit impatient if he
began right away to plan to try his luck with those same horrid
children again? Wouldn’t you be tempted to spank him or—?”
“You’re dead right, little girl,” he admitted, “An’ you’re a lot cleverer
than I am. I—”
“Then you will give it up?” she urged.
“I can’t, Dey! Honest, I can’t. I couldn’t look myself in the face again
if I let those gold-shirters beat me out. You see how it is, don’t you?
I’m in to win. If I ever was to give up a fight, I could never win
another. It’d take the ‘win’ out of me, for keeps. Please don’t make
me do it, Dey!”
“All right!” she sighed, in comic despair, “It’s only for your own sake
and because I care for you.”
“If it’s goin’ to make you unhappy or ashamed of me, I’ll give it up,”
he said with slow resignation.
“No,” she forbade. “You needn’t feel that way about it. It doesn’t
make me unhappy, except on your account. And I couldn’t be
‘ashamed’ of you if I tried all day. You know I couldn’t.”
“You’re the dandiest, littlest, prettiest girl there is!” he said gratefully,
“An’ those big eyes of yours kind of make me feel like I was in
church. Now I’ll chase home an’ give you a chance to do some
sleepin’. Say—” as he started to go, “What do you think of Miss
Standish?”
“Why,” she answered, perplexed, “I never thought much about her.
She’s very nice;—and pretty, too; isn’t she?”
“Looks a little like a rabbit, don’t she?” he ventured.
The girl’s quick laugh flashed out and she clasped her hands
together.
“Beautiful!” she cried. “How did you ever think of it?”
“Struck me the first time I saw her,” he replied, flattered, “I told her
about it to-night at dinner.”
“Caleb! You didn’t!”
“Honest, I did!” he reiterated. “I—”
“What did she say?”
“Oh, she didn’t seem to mind. Got sort o’ red, an’ grinned. I guess
she liked it. Her’n me didn’t get on so bad together, takin’ all into
account. I guess we’ll pull together first rate when we’re better
acquainted.”
“You seem pretty certain of being ‘better acquainted’”, she mocked;
albeit there was a little tug at her heart.
“I am,” he answered, coolly, “The fact is, Dey, I’m thinkin’ of makin’
it a case of marry.”
For a moment she did not answer. The footfalls of a pedestrian
sounded rhythmically distinct in the silence that fell between the
man and the girl. Then Desirée observed, with a slight restraint that
sat strangely upon her:—
“I don’t think that is a very nice joke.”
“’Tisn’t a joke at all,” Caleb assured her, “I mean it. I’d a’ talked it
over with you before, only the idee never came clear to me till to-
night. Here’s how it is—”
“You—you care for her?” asked Desirée very quietly. Caleb, full as he
was of his own aspirations, noticed how dull and lifeless her voice
had all at once grown.
“You’re tired out!” he cried, all remorse, “Here I keep you up,
listenin’ to my fool talk when you ought to be sound asleep! Nice
sort of guardian I am! I’m goin’—”
“No. Wait!” she ordered, with a pitiful shadow of her wonted dainty
imperiousness, “I’m not tired. Tell me. Are you in love with her?”
“In love with her?” scoffed Caleb. “With that little rabbit-faced bunch
of silliness? Not me! But she comes of about the biggest fam’ly here.
She’s pop’lar ev’rywhere. If I was to marry her, I’d get with the best
crowd in Granite. My place’d be as sure as yours’ll be when you
marry that gold-shirt chap—whoever he turns out to be—that we
was talkin’ about the other day. I was speakin’ of the idee to Caine,
only to-night, an’ he says—”
“Oh!”
The furious monosyllable snapped through his rambling talk like a
pistol shot. Caleb paused in amaze. The girl had risen. Her tiny fists
were clinched, her face was hard as a statue’s. The moonlight gave
back cold fire from her great eyes.
“How dare you?” she panted, “How dare you! You speak of marrying
Letty Standish as you would speak of buying a horse! You even talk
it over with the man she has promised to marry! But I suppose you
chuckled to yourself over your barroom cunning in getting an opinion
from him without letting him know it was his sweetheart you
planned to steal. You sneer at her as a ‘rabbit-faced little bunch of
silliness’ and yet you speak in the same breath of making her your
wife. Do you realize you are not only insulting her by such a
thought, but you are insulting me by speaking so in my presence?”
“Dey!” gasped the bewildered man, “You must be crazy, child! I
never saw you like—”
“Be still!” she commanded, her silver voice ringing harsh, “I forbid
you to speak to me, now or any time. A man who can plan what you
are planning, and who can boast of it, isn’t fit to speak to any
woman. You went to that house as a guest—and you asked mens’
opinions in the smoking room—”
“It was the dressin’ room, Dey,” he pleaded, “An’ it was only me an’
Caine—”
“You ask mens’ opinion,” blazed on Desirée, unheeding, “as to
whether you are likely to gain anything in a social way by wrecking
an innocent girl’s life. You sit by her at dinner—at her own father’s
table—and plan in smug complacency how to separate her from a
man she really loves,—and to compel her to marry you. Why, you
aren’t fit to marry her chambermaid. There isn’t a groom in her
stable that hasn’t higher, holier ideals. Now go! This is the last time I
want to see you as long as I live!”
A swirl of soft skirts, the sharp slam of a door, and Caleb Conover,
aghast, wordless with dismay stood alone on the little moon-lit
porch.
For a full minute he stood there, dumbfounded. Then, from
somewhere in the darkness beyond the closed door, came faintly the
sound of sobbing. Rending, heartbroken sobs that brought a lump to
his own throat.
“Dey!” he called, frantically miserable, “Dey!”
He tried the locked door, and rapped as loudly as he dared upon its
panels. The sobbing died away. For an hour Conover waited;
alternately whispering the girl’s name and tapping appealingly for
admittance. But the house remained silent. At length with a
despairing growl he turned away.
“Now what in blazes could a’ made her act like that?” he pondered,
half-aloud. “Gee, but I’d rather be horsewhipped than make that kid
cry! An’ I s’pose,” he went on as he passed out of the gate, “I s’pose
’bout this time Letty Standish an’ Caine are sayin’ goodnight, all
slushly like, an’ grinnin’ at each other, like a couple of measly love-
birds.”
He looked back once more at the dark house; sighed noisily, and
started homeward. A passing policeman recognized him; and, in
deference to the Fighter’s fast-growing political power, so far unbent
as to say:
“Good evenin’, Mr. Conover. Fine night, ain’t it? Are—?”
“Oh, go to hell!” snarled Caleb.
 CHAPTER XIV
CALEB CONOVER TAKES AN AFTERNOON OFF

The Fighter made life a burden, next day, for the office staff of the
C. G. & X. An electric aura of uneasiness pervaded the big station—
the indefinable, wordless something that gives warning to the most
remote denizens of every office when the “boss” is out of temper.
Yet Caleb, as it happened, was not out of temper. He was merely
unhappy. The effect, to casual observers, was the same as on the
not very rare days of his rages. But, instead of storming up and
down his office as on the latter occasions, Caleb merely sulked in his
desk chair, chewed countless cigars, and roused himself every few
minutes to make toil a horror for such luckless subordinates as just
then chanced to impress their existence on his mind. Hence the
President’s private office was shunned like a pest-house by everyone
who could avoid going thither.
The office boy, official martyr of the day, shook visibly as he sidled
into the room, about three that afternoon, and laid on his chief’s
desk a sealed, unstamped envelope. Conover’s scowl vanished as he
noted the handwriting. The office boy breathed deeper and his
knees grew firm.
“Any answer?” asked Conover; and for the first time since his arrival
his voice sounded scarcely more menacing than that of a sick bear.
“No, sir!” piped the youth with a propitiatory grin. “I ast the
mes’nger an’ he said—”
“Clear out!” mumbled Caleb, his eyes and mind fixed on the sheet he
had clumsily withdrawn from the envelope.
The boy departed; swaggering into the main office with all the
conscious heroism of a lion-tamer. The door, wind-caught, swung
shut behind him with a slam that turned swagger into helpless panic.
But no dreaded voice howled a reprimand through the panels. Caleb
Conover was reading and re-reading a few scribbled lines in
exaggeratedly large writing. The Fighter’s face softened as he read.
Then, glancing about in shame-faced caution, he hastily lifted the
note; brushed it across his lips with a furtive, yet careless mien; as
though the gesture might have been employed to cover a yawn.
Contemptuous of the first covert loverly deed of his career, he
cleared his throat and for the sixth time read the scrawled words.
Half audibly, he perused them; smiling to himself.
“Please, I’m good now. I don’t think I’m EVER going to
be bad again. Wouldn’t it be fine if you should come
and take me for a walk this afternoon? D. S.”
“Isn’t she the dandiest ever?” Caleb asked himself gleefully as he
straightened his tie before the office mirror and jammed his felt hat
down over his forehead, “Why can’t the Letty girl be like her? Then
there’d be some pleasure in gettin’ married. Hope she and Dey’ll be
friends. If they ain’t—”
He strode through the outer office, looking so human that his
expression, combined with the far more important fact that he was
evidently departing for the day, put the whole staff into the utmost
good humor for the rest of the afternoon.
It was a very natural, self-controlled Desirée who met Conover on
the porch of the Shevlin cottage. If hers had been the muffled sobs
that had sent him home with a lump in his throat—if she had lain
wide-eyed, tortured, till broad daylight—there was no hint of such
excess in her flower face nor in the girlish vigor of her pose.
Conover, doubtful as to how he might best refer to the quarrel of the
previous night, for once did an absolutely wise and tactful thing. He
made no mention whatever of the affair.
“It was such a gorgeous day,” Desirée was saying, “that I felt I ought
to let you know what beautiful weather it was. You’d never have
thought to look, for yourself. You know you wouldn’t. Now take me
somewhere. Anywhere, so long as it’s far enough. And I want to
walk; not drive. Where are we going? It’s got to be somewhere
outside of this squiffy, hot old town. Out where there’s a whole sky-
ful of air.”
“How’d you like to walk out to the Arareek?” he suggested, “We can
sit on the stoop there and drink seltzer lem’nade an’ watch the
paretics chase gutta percha pills over the golf links. Would you care
’about doin’ that? There’s a big view there for folks that cares for
that sort of rot.”
She assented gaily and they set off, walking close together and
chattering like a couple of schoolgirls on a holiday. Caleb felt oddly
young and buoyant. The girl had ever the power of imparting to him,
when they were alone together, something of her own youth and
gaiety. To-day, the spell worked with double force, because of last
night’s scene. It would have needed a far cleverer onlooker than
Conover to detect any artificiality in Desirée’s high spirits. She bullied
him, petted him, cajoled and instructed him by turns as was her
wont, until they had entered the Arareek grounds. Then of a sudden
she fell silent.
The deep clubhouse veranda was filled with knots of men and
women. Among the idling groups, the girl had recognized Letty
Standish and Caine. Jack Hawarden, who was sitting with the
couple, ran down the steps to welcome the newcomers.
“There are two extra chairs at our table,” he said eagerly, “And I
believe they’re the only two left on the whole veranda. I wondered
why no one took them. Now I see it was providential.”
Caleb hesitated, glancing in doubt at Desirée. The girl, a little to his
surprise, assented with perfect willingness to Jack’s suggestion, and
led the way between several bevies of frankly admiring men and
openly curious women, toward the table where Caine and Letty were
seated. Miss Standish’s cheeks were flushed as she noted their
approach. Nor did her gentle face wear quite its best expression. But
Caine, masculinely obtuse, was very evidently glad to see them. He
signalled a waiter as Caleb and Desirée seated themselves.
“When Providence ordained hot days like this,” said Caine oracularly,
“He mercifully devised seltzer lemonades to go with them. Would
you rather have a Scotch-and-soda, Conover?”
“No thanks,” demurred the Fighter. “No use in spoilin’ two perfec’ly
good things like booze an’ water by fizzin’ ’em up together.”
“That is so,” agreed Caine tritely, “Mixing whiskey with water is like
merging love into matrimony. It—”
Letty giggled appreciation. She had a marvellous ear for humor, and
could almost always tell by a speaker’s tone when he had said
anything funny. It was a natural gift many girls envied her. In the
midst of the laugh she remembered Desirée’s presence and fell back
on her defenses of gentle reserve.
Caine was hailed from another table and went across to reply to
some question. Jack, too, was for the moment, leaning over to
speak with someone on the lawn below. Caleb, left alone between
Desirée and Letty, racked his brain for something to say. For once,
Desirée did not help him. She was gazing out with dreamy joy at the
beautiful grounds; her eyes resting longest on the stately avenue of
trees that wound up to the house. Thus it devolved upon Letty to
save the conversational ship from utter wreck.
“I hardly thought to see you here, Miss Shevlin,” she observed with a
graciousness that did not however leave the second personal
pronoun quite unaccented.
“Why not?” asked Desirée, simply. “I hear some really very nice
people come here,—sometimes.”
“I—I meant I feared you would hardly feel at home,” persisted Letty,
walking round-eyed toward destruction.
“Oh, I don’t,” Desirée assured her, with a child-like smile. “At home I
never see men sit with their feet on a veranda rail. And I never see
women drinking whisky there, either,” she added with a glance
toward a nearby table whither a tray of high-balls had just been
borne.
“I wonder you came, then,” sputtered Letty, with a despairing effort
at cold reproof.
“One goes anywhere nowadays,” replied Desirée. “And besides,” she
sighed raptly, “I love the country. Everything about it always has a
charm for me. From trees like those splendid old oaks, down to—”
her eyes swept the scene for an antithesis; accidently resting for the
remotest instant on Letty’s profile as she finished, “down to the
funny little rabbits with their ridiculous round bodies and bulging,
scared eyes.”
“Gee!” groaned Caleb to himself, glancing helplessly from one girl to
the other, “It must be hell to be a Mormon!”
For a moment, Letty pondered on Desirée’s harmless speech.
Then, all at once, a queer, gurgling little sound rumbled far down in
her throat and she slowly grew pink. Her nose quivered a mute
appeal to all mankind. Caine mercifully returned at this juncture. All
unconscious of the smouldering fires, he proceeded, man-like, to stir
up the coals.
“You have made one more of an endless line of conquests, Miss
Shevlin,” he announced, “General Greer,—Miss Standish’s uncle, you
know,—called me over to his table expressly to ask who you were;
and to demand, in lurid diction, why he had never met you before.
He is coming over here in a moment, if you’ll permit, to be
introduced to you. You don’t mind?”
“Why, of course not,” said Desirée in sweet effusion, “Miss Standish
knows how glad I am to meet anyone connected with her. By the
way, she and I have been raving over the joys of country life. We—”
Letty was saved by the advent of an elderly man, apoplectic of mien,
stumpy of gait, who hobbled across to their table and greeted her
with a bluff manner he had spent many busy years in mastering.
Then, without waiting for her reply, he nodded to Jack and looked
expectantly toward Caine. The latter rose to the occasion.
“Miss Shevlin,” he said, trying to make the act seem bred of an
unexpected meeting, “May I present General Greer?”
The General bowed low; his best old-world air and his corpulence
battling doughtily for supremacy in the salutation. He was about to
follow up the bow with some remarks of a fatherly yet admiring
nature, when Caine, with malice aforethought, broke in:
“And, General, may I introduce Mr. Caleb Conover?”
The old man’s honeyed words collided with a snort that sprang
unbidden from his throat; resulting in a sound that was neither old-
world or fatherly.
“Conover, eh?” he rapped out. “Heard of you, sir! Heard of you!—
Too often, in fact. You’re the fellow that’s always buying up our
legislators, aren’t you? Why do you do it, sir?”
“Because they’re for sale,” said Caleb, unruffled. “I guess that’s ’bout
the only reason I’m able to.”
“You mean to accuse the men who represent our interests at the
Capital,—to accuse them of being willing, untempted, to sell their
vote?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as that,” answered Caleb with a tolerant
grin. “They ain’t all waitin’ for chances to sell their vote. Some of ’em
prefers to rent it out by the year.”
“Do you want me to believe such a libel on our statesmen?”
declaimed Greer. “On the men we—”
“I’m not exactly coaxin’ you to believe anything,” replied Caleb,
pleasantly, “An’ I ain’t liable to lay wake nights moanin’ because you
doubt it. If the people didn’t want to be run by a lobby, they
wouldn’t be. That’s all there is to it.”
“I didn’t come to discuss ethics with a man of your stamp,” sneered
the General. “But I can tell you you are wrong—wrong, sir—in
thinking the people will always stand such conditions as you and
your kind are thrusting upon them. Only yesterday one of my clients
was telling me that if he could not curb your legislative influence by
fair means he would—”
“Come to you for help?” finished Caleb blandly.
General Greer stared at him speechless, apoplectic. Letty, who,
despite years of sharp contrary experience, still clung to the fond
delusion that she was the spoiled-child-niece of fiction who could
twist an otherwise crotchety uncle about her finger, now intervened
with one of her inspired blunders. The General’s rumbling voice had
drawn attention to their table and Miss Standish conceived a plan of
pouring oil on the thundrous waters.
“Why, Uncle Guy!” she pouted prettily, “You’ll make Mr. Conover
think you’re in earnest in the dreadful things you are saying to him!
It’s just dear Uncle Guy’s bluff way, Mr. Conover, that he picked up
when he was commanding soldiers in the army. He’s really a darling
old lamb, if only—”
After one long, dumb glare of annihilation at his self-appointed
spoiled-child-niece, the darling old lamb stumped away, bleating
blasphemously.
“I wonder,” conjectured Desirée, looking up from her tall glass, “why
seltzer lemonades make such squizzy sounds through the straw
when the glass is almost empty.”
“If that’s a hint,—” observed Caine, glancing about for a waiter.
“No,” she replied. “Only a scientific comment. Oh, it is good to be in
the country a day like this.”
“I’ll be in the country for the summer, this time next month,” said
Jack Hawarden, “Mother’s taken the same cottage at the Antlers we
had last year. It will be nice to get back to the old Adirondacks
again.”
“The Adirondacks?” exclaimed Desirée. “Oh, take me along. I’ve
always wanted to go there!”
Letty, pained at a suggestion so palpably immodest, looked in
frightened appeal to Caine. But Amzi was once more talking to
people at the next table. So Miss Standish drew around her an
aloofness that lifted her high above any ribaldry that might be
bandied about her.
“You’ve never been?” asked Jack in surprise, “You’ve missed a lot.
There’s no other region just like the Adirondacks. It rains about a
third of the time, as a rule. But when it’s clear you forget it can ever
be anything else. The breath goes down a mile deeper into your
lungs than it can in any other part of the world; and you never get
tired. A sort of perpetual ozone jag. Almost any place there is worth
going to. We generally hang out at the Antlers,—Mother and I. Up
on Raquette Lake, you know. It’s different from other places. It’s run
by Charlie Bennett, a giant of a man as broad as Mr. Conover and
half a foot taller. He and Father are old chums from the time when it
took three days to get into the wilderness and when you could shoot
Adirondack bear for breakfast any morning. Bennett used to be
Father’s guide in those days. Now, I suppose he could buy and sell
Dad half a dozen times over.”
“I wish I could go there—or anywhere at all in the Adirondacks,”
sighed Desirée wistfully. “I read once—”
Caleb noted the longing inflection and made quick mental
memorandum of it.
“How big’s your cottage, Jack?” he asked the boy.
“Four rooms. We get our meals at the hotel. Why?”
“Oh, nothin’!” Continuing with elephantine humor, “Though maybe I
might drop in on you sometime. How many of you goin’ to be
there?”
“Father can only stay a month this year. After that there will be only
Mother and I. Did you really think of joining us? We’d be ever so
glad. There’s an extra room.”
“Much obliged. I’ve never took a vacation yet, an’ I guess I’m a little
bit too old to begin. I don’t b’lieve in vacations. Neither would you if
you could see how my clerks look when they get back from ’em. The
first day back, you’d think they was beginnin’ a life sentence in
prison. It costs ’em six months’ savin’s to grow a bunch of callous
spots on their hands an’ tan on their faces that they could a’ got free
of charge, workin’ in my freight yards. When d’you expect to go to
the country, Miss Standish?” he broke off, remembering belatedly his
new-chosen role of attentive swain, and turning unexpectedly upon
Letty before she had an opportunity to resume the aloofness which
she had just discarded as unnecessary.
“I—I don’t quite know yet,” she made reply, unreasonably scared by
his sudden glance, “We shall probably stay in town rather late this
year.”
“Good!” approved Caleb. “I hope we’ll see a lot of each other.”
And, looking into his light, masterful eyes, the girl knew all at once
that she would not have the wit nor the force to avoid him. The
knowledge turned her sick. Her round, helpless gaze shifted
involuntarily to Desirée, as the nearest woman to her. And, under
the genuine fright behind that appeal, the steel glint that had of a
sudden hardened Desirée’s big eyes, softened unaccountably. A
quick sentence that had risen to her lips died unborn.
For a moment, before convention could lower the veil, the two
women read each other to the very soul. At what the brief glance
told her, Letty drew her breath with a sharp intake that made
Conover glance at her inquiringly. To cover her confusion, Miss
Standish plunged into speech on the first subject that crossed her
mind.
“I hope you didn’t mind Uncle Guy’s rudeness, Mr. Conover,” she
began, “He really doesn’t mean half the cross things he says. He
suffers so dreadfully from dyspepsia and—and there are sometimes
family troubles, too, that—”
“I know,” assented Caleb, “I’ve heard. Married a wife that was too
rich for him. She don’t always agree with him, I hear, an’ I s’pose it
gives him mental indigestion. No offence. I forgot they’re rel’tives of
yours.”
“I’m sorry, just the same, that he spoke so threateningly to you,”
went on Letty.
She found it so easy to talk to him now. A weight seemed off her
heart.
“Threats don’t keep me guessin’ very much,” Conover reassured her,
delighted at her new ease of bearing toward him, “No one’s goin’ to
do a rich man any real harm or hold grouches against him. To him
that hath, it shall be forgiven. That’s in the Bible, ain’t it? Or
somethin’ like it. The trouble with men like your uncle is that they
don’t see any farther ahead than twenty years ago. Business an’
pol’tics have changed a lot since then. But the old crowd don’t see it.
They’re like a feller that rows a boat. They move ahead because the
boat carries ’em ahead. But they’re always facin’ astern.”
He felt he was talking amazingly well. He was almost annoyed when
Desirée, having sat in troubled silence for some minutes, rose
abruptly and proposed that they should go.
Letty Standish, watching them depart, was saying over and over to
herself in a rapturous sing-song:
“She won’t let him make love to me. She won’t! She won’t!”
 CHAPTER XV
CALEB CONOVER LIES

One morning, a week or so later, Caine strolled into Conover’s

private office. Under the young newspaper owner’s customary
jauntiness was a hint of something more serious. Conover, as skilled
in reading men as he was ignorant in deciphering any problem
relating to woman, was aware, at a glance, of the subtle change.
“Sit down,” he said, nodding to his secretary to go, “What’s wrong?
If you’re scared because Steeloid fell off three-quarters of a point
yesterday, you can rest easy. I did it myself on ‘match’ sales; and a
few others—”
“It isn’t Steeloid,” said Caine, “It’s nothing that really concerns me.
But I thought you would want to know about it.”
“Fire away, then,” vouchsafed Caleb, “Have a cigar? These with the
gold-an’-red life belts are nice to look at. But if you want something
that tastes better’n it looks, try one of the panatelas. The ones
without illustrations on ’em. Now what is it?”
“It’s about Miss Shevlin,” began Caine, with reluctance.
Conover’s massive calm fled. He brought down his crossed legs from
the desk corner with a bang and whirled his chair about.
“Speak it out, quick!” he ordered sharply. “Ain’t sick, is she?”
“No, no. This is different. You’ve heard of Ex-Governor Parkman’s
plan to start an anti-graft crusade, of course?”
“Sure!” grinned Caleb, “Them croosades are as certain as measles.
Ev’ry city goes through ’em ev’ry once in so often. They don’t do any
real hurt and they can’t tie up my bus’ness so’s to bother me any.
Let ’em croosade till they’re black in the face. It’ll be good for you
noospaper fellers, an’ it won’t harm anybody it’s aimed at. But,”
uneasily, “what’s that got to do with Dey?”
“I’m coming to the point if you’ll give me a chance. Parkman’s
preparing a set of tables showing not only how municipal funds are
squandered at present but how they were misspent in the past. In
the course of his investigations, he has come to the City Hall and the
County Court House.”
“Well?” queried Conover, “What then? Both of ’em was built ten
years ago. That’s over an’ done with.”
“The Shevlin Contracting Company did the work,” interpolated Caine.
“What of that? Neither building’s caved in, has it?”
“Not yet. Though, if all Parkman claims is true, I don’t know why
they haven’t. He came to me this morning with the whole story.
Proofs, affidavits and all. He wants to give the Star first chance to
publish the exposure. I told him to come back at noon, and—”
“What exposure?” asked Caleb in perplexity.
“It seems he took pains to hunt up the original specifications on
both buildings,” resumed Caine, “And then he hired an architectural
expert to go over the plans and the work and see how the two
agreed. Thus far, he has found cheap foundations and sandstone
bedding where the best concrete and granite were called for. Stucco
has been used in no less than four corridors where the plans called
for marble. The ‘solid marble pillars’ on the east portico are
‘composition,’ shells filled with cement. Then the facade—”
“Say, son,” interrupted Conover with perfect sincerity, “what in blazes
is the matter with you and Parkman? You’ve bit into a mare’s nest,
an’ any practical man’ll tell you so. Of course a contractor’s goin’ to
make what he can on a job. He ain’t in the business for his health or
to endow the city, is he? He’s got to get his, an’ the pol’ticians who
throw the job to him have got to get theirs. An’ that bein’ so, how’s
he goin’ to foller out all the arch’tect’s spec’fications an’ still make
the right money out of it? He can’t. I thought ev’rybody knew that
much pol’tics.”
“Conover,” observed Caine, in unwilling admiration. “I’ve heard
people say you’re a man of bad morals. It isn’t true. You’re simply a
man of no morals at all. Do you mean to say—?”
“I mean to say business is business an’ pol’tics is business too. I
never heard of any good comin’ from mixin’ up morals with either of
’em. If you came here to-day to tell me this story, with an idee that
I’d slap my manly brow an’ say: ‘Great heaven! Can such things be?’
you’ve brought your s’prise party to the wrong house. Of course,
Shevlin made a good thing out of those two buildin’s. Even after the
folks higher up had got their rake-off, I guess he must a’ cleaned up
close to $800,000. An’ then the old fool went an’ blowed it all in Wall
Street, an’ died before he could make a new pile. But, say! What’s
this got to do with—?”
“With Miss Shevlin? I am coming to that. This ‘mare’s nest,’ as you
call it, that Parkman has unearthed, may look harmless to you and
to other practical business-politicians. But to nine people out of ten it
will have very much the look of bare-faced robbery. So much so that
it will prove the biggest newspaper sensation of the year. Mr. Shevlin
will be everywhere spoken of as—”
“I catch your meanin’!” broke in Caleb, “The ‘Holier’n Thou’ crowd
will raise a yell, drag Shevlin out of his snug, comf’table grave an’
croocify him. He’ll be spoke of by the papers an’ by the man on the
street as the rottenest grafter of the century. An’ ev’rywhere Dey
goes, folks’ll nudge each other an’ whisper: ‘Them fine clo’es was
bought out o’ the dough her ol’ man stole from the city.’ An’ all the
time there’s no less than a dozen cases of city graft goin’ on in
Granite to-day that are raw enough to make Shevlin’s deals look like
a game of Old Maid! Still,” he muttered, dropping his head on his
chest in thought, “all that won’t keep this story from queerin’ Dey in
s’ciety and givin’ her a black eye as the daughter of a crook.”
“That’s why I put off Parkman till I could see you,” explained Caine,
“He came direct to me with the news. It’s lucky I happened to be in
town. If he had gone to my managing editor instead, there would be
a scare-head Extra on the streets by now.”
“Well,” returned Conover, “the story’s got to be hushed up, of course.
An’ I hate to pay hush-money. But I guess this is one of the times
when it’s got to be done. I wonder what’s Parkman’s price?”
Caine laughed, mirthlessly.
“Parkman’s as rich a man as you are,” he said, “And he’s so upright
that he bends backward. He would like nothing better than to prove
attempted bribery against you. No, the adage about ‘every man
having his price’ won’t apply in Parkman’s case.”
“Rot!” growled Conover. “There ain’t a case on earth where it won’t
apply. The price ain’t always money; but it’s always dead sure to be
somethin’. Only, I ain’t got time, I s’pose, to find out what Parkman’s
partic’lar rates are. I wish I had. If I’d had wind of this a week
earlier I’d have been able by now to lay my finger on his pet
weakness or fav’rite sin or cash price an’ say ‘Shut up!’ An’ he’d a’
done it, quicker’n greased lightning.”
“You’re mistaken,” averred Caine. “But that has nothing to do—”
“I know it has nothin’ to do with this muddle we’re in now,” snapped
Conover, “I ain’t sayin’ it has. But Parkman has his price just the
same, if only we could find out what it is. There never was but one
Man that hadn’t. An’ that was why they put Him to death. What do
you want for keepin’ the story out of the Star?” he ended, abruptly.
Caine’s handsome face contracted in sudden wrath. Then, in spite of
himself, he broke into a laugh.
“If only you knew better,” he sighed in comic resignation, “you’d be
horsewhipped three times a week. What a mighty, impregnable
armor is profound ignorance! Unfortunately,” he went on, more
gravely, “I couldn’t avail myself of your very tactfully veiled offer
even if I chose. The Star is but one of Granite’s four daily
newspapers. If I refuse to print the story, the three others remain to
—”
“H’m,” mused Conover. “I s’pose so. I s’pose so. In another five
years there won’t be a paper in Granite that’ll dare print a word I tell
’em not to. I wish now I’d bought up their stock already; instead of
waitin’ until I get some more important deals off my hands. A
noospaper is a good weapon for a big man to keep for emergencies.
If ’twasn’t for the papers I could a’ pulled off lots of dandy schemes.
What a cinch the old-time business men must a’ had before printin’
was invented!”
His voice trailed away. His head once more sank. His eyes were shut;
his forehead contracted.
“I thought it only fair—” began Caine.
“Shut up!” grunted Conover, “I’m thinkin’. Leave me be.”
Caine, in no wise offended, held his peace, and watched the big
concentrated figure that sprawled so motionless in the desk chair.
For several minutes the two sat in silence. Then Caleb opened his
eyes. The frown had cleared; the light of battle flickered beneath his
shrewd lids.
“Caine,” he said solemnly, “I got a confession to make. You’re the
first to hear it. So be flattered. Caine, Ol’ Man Shevlin had nothin’ to
do with the Shevlin Contractin’ Company, at the time the City Hall
an’ the County Courthouse was started. Six months before then, he’d
sold out the whole business to me.”
“What are—?”
“Hold on a second,” ordered Caleb. “Hear all the sad, sad secret
before you fly up in the air. I bought out the Shevlin Contractin’
Com’pany, lock, stock an’ bar’l; good will an’ fixtures. I still ran it
under Shevlin’s name, so’s to get the good of his old trade. That’s
why I worked through agents. I didn’t appear in it at all. I built the
Court House an’ the noo City Hall, an’ made close onto a million out
of the deal. It was crooked work if you like. But the statoot of
limitations’ll keep me from bein’ indicted for it, I guess. An’ if I am
indicted, I’ll bet fifty dollars to fifty doughnuts the case’ll never come
to trial. Yessir, I’m the guilty man, all right. An’ I can prove it.”
“Are you quite through?” asked Caine with exaggerated politeness,
as the Fighter paused.
“Yep. That’s ’bout all. Good story for the papers, hey?”
“An excellent story—for the horse marines,” retorted Caine. “Really,
Conover,” he continued almost plaintively, “I don’t see what overt
acts of idiocy I have ever committed that you should offer so vile an
insult to my intelligence.”
“What d’ye mean?” queried Caleb with bland innocence.
“I mean, every word of that rigmarole is a thread in one of the
clumsiest tangles of lies I have ever had the misfortune to listen to. I
thought better of your inventive powers!”
“You don’t believe me?” exclaimed Conover, aggrieved.
“I’m not lucky enough to have had the Chess Queen’s training in
‘believing at least three impossible things before breakfast every
morning,’” misquoted Caine. “Really, Conover, did it never occur to
you that telling an unnecessary lie is almost tempting Providence?”
“The story’s true,” persisted Caleb, doggedly, “Just like I told it to
you. I owned the Shevlin Contractin’ Comp’ny. Shevlin had been out
of it six months. I was the one that did the graftin’ when the two
buildin’s was put up. An’ I ain’t ashamed of it.”
Caine looked long, quizzically, into the light, alert eyes that so
brazenly met his.
“I really believe you mean to stick to it,” he said at last. “But why?
And don’t you see that a single glance at the records will disprove it
all? If Shevlin really transferred his business to you, there would be
a record of it.”
“There’ll be a record—if it’s needed,” countered the Fighter, “That
the easiest part of it all. But it won’t be needed. My say-so will be
b’lieved for once. Folks won’t s’pose a man would accuse himself of
bein’ a crook if he was reelly on the square.”
“Do as you please,” replied Caine impatiently, “but don’t keep up the
farce with me.”
“All right,” assented Caleb with cheerful acquiescence, “I won’t, if it
jars you. But that’s the story that’s goin’ out under my name. An’
you’re the man who’s goin’ to help me. Now, listen to me, an’ be
sure you get my instructions right. An’ don’t butt in with any
objections. Because I need you to help me. If you don’t, some other
paper will. May as well get a ‘beat’ for the Star. Besides, you know I
can help folks sometimes who helps me. There’s other deals besides
Steeloid. Will you stand by me? Is it a go?”
The Fighter’s tone had deepened to a growl that held more menace
than appeal. His eyes were fixed in scowling command on his
visitor’s face.
“This cringing attitude of yours touches me to the heart,” said Caine;
speaking lightly, though he felt the other’s magnetic domination
throughout his entire being, “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you,” dictated Conover, “to go back to your office and send
for your best reporter. Don’t put this up to your managin’ editor, but
handle it yourself. The reporter will work a lot better when he thinks
it’s a story the owner’s int’rested in. That’s workman-nature, ain’t it?”
“Go ahead,” smiled Caine, fighting against that merciless domination
which found expression in the man himself, not in his words.
“Send for your best, sharpest reporter,” resumed Caleb, “Give him an
outline of this case against old Shevlin. Tell him to spread himself on
it. As a starter, tell him Shevlin an’ me used to be friends, an’
suggest that he’d better chase around here first of all an’ interview
me, to find out if I ever heard of the graft trick that was worked on
those two public buildin’s. I never let reporters get in here; but I’ll
make an exception in this case, ’cause he’ll bring a pers’nal note
from my pers’nal friend, Amzi Nicholas Caine, Esquire. I’ll talk to him
kind of guarded-like. But pretty soon I’ll get rattled under his
questions, an’ let out enough to put him on the right track. Then
when I see he’s s’picious, I’ll give in an’ tell him the whole thing, an’
exonerate ol’ Shevlin to beat the band. That reporter’ll feel like the
man who went out for squirrels an’ brought home a bear. Then,
when he reports back to you, I want you should be firm in your
dooty to the c’moonity. You must decide that pers’nal friendship
can’t stand in the way of the public’s sacred right to find out things
that’s none of their business. Print the whole terr’ble trooth. Don’t
spare me. But see that you clear Shevlin’s name till it shines like it
had a Sat’dy night bath. An’ Dey—ain’t—to—be—mentioned!
Understand?”
“Perfectly,” answered Caine, “And I’ll do nothing of the sort.”
“D’ye mean you—?”
“I mean just this: You are the most conscienceless, inhuman brute I
ever met; but I have a sort of morbid liking for you. Besides, as you
so often take graceful occasion to remind me, I am in your debt for
certain financial favors. Also, I have some regard for the truth of
what appears in my own newspaper. For all those reasons—and for
several more—I’m not going to help you to commit social suicide,
nor to stamp yourself as more of a highwayman than you really are.
Is that plain?”
“So plain that it’s plumb ugly,” replied Caleb, “But you’ll do it just the
same. If it ain’t the Star, it’ll be one of the other papers. That story’s
goin’ to be in print by to-morrow mornin’. You speak ’bout likin’ me
an’ bein’ in my debt. The best way you can show that likin’ an’
gratitood is by doin’ as I ask now. The Star’s the best paper in
Granite an’ it’s read by the best people. Don’t you s’pose I’d rather
have folks get their first idee of the story from such a paper as that
than to have ’em see it plastered all over the front page of some
screechin’ sheet, in letters two feet high?”
“But,” argued Caine, “What sense is there in doing it at all?”
“From a grown man’s point of view,” admitted Caleb, “There ain’t a
mite of sense in it. It’s straight craziness. But if you think I’m goin’ to
let Dey go around knowin’ the trooth about her old crook of a father
who she worships, you’re wrong. She thinks he was a measly saint
with a tin halo. An’ she gets pleasure out of thinkin’ it. An’ she’s goin’
to go right on thinkin’ it to the end of the game. What sort of a
yellow dog would I be to let her hear things about him that’d make
her cry an’ that would sure break her heart? There’s another thing:
She’s got into a good crowd now. She goes to folks’ houses an’ has a
good time there. Who’s goin’ to invite a crook’s daughter to their
house? Or, do you think she’d go to such places, knowin’ how they
thought of her father? Not her. She’d die first. Why, ev’ry time folks
looked at her in the street, she’d be thinkin’ to herself: ‘It ain’t
because I’m so pretty an’ ’cause my eyes look like two chunks of
heaven, an’ ’cause when I smile at you it makes you feel as if
someone had lent you money.’ She’d think: ‘They’re pointin’ me out
as the daughter of Shevlin who stole cash from the city!’ No, no,
son! She ain’t goin’ to have none of those things happen to her. Not
while Caleb Conover’s on deck. Butterfly smashin’ ain’t in my line.
That’s why I say you’ve got to help me. An’ you’ll do it, too.”
“Of course you know,” suggested Caine, “that this will ruin those
weird social ambitions of yours?”
“I know nothin’ of the sort. Even if I did, I s’pose I’d have it to do
just the same. But it won’t. I’m too well off to go to jail; or to have
folks say: ‘Get out!’ when I say ‘Let me in!’ There’ll be a sight of talk
in the papers an’ all through the State. But folks get tired talkin’,
after awhile. An’ I never get tired risin’. So I’ll win out. When I flash
on ’em that merger of the Up-State R. R. with my C. G. & X., they’ll
see I’m too big a man to be sat on. That’s comin’ off next week, by
the way. An’ bigger schemes to foller. Oh, folks won’t be sore on me
long! So you see it ain’t such a great stunt of heroism I’m doin’ for
the little girl after all. Now you’d better start. For we—”
“But Miss Shevlin? She will read what the papers are bound to say of
you. She will hear what her friends—”
“Yes,” ruefully admitted the Fighter, “She will. I’ll have to take my
chances on that. If she drops me, why it’s better’n if s’ciety dropped
her. Better for ev’rybody concerned. Unless maybe for me. How’s
Miss Standish?”
“Quite well, thank you. She—”
“I’ve been meanin’ to come ’round and pay that dinner call. But I’ve
been pretty busy. An’ Dey says there’s no great hurry.”
“Just now,” answered Caine, remembering Letty’s moist appeal, “The
Standish household is a little upset. I’d call sometime later, if I were
you. They will understand. Clive Standish is down with mumps, poor
little chap.”
“There’s only two kind of kids,” philosophized Conover, “Bad ones
and sick ones. But I ain’t afraid of catchin’ anything. I’ll be ’round
there in a day or two, tell her.”
“By the way,” remarked Caine, to change the subject he found
vaguely distasteful, “Miss Shevlin tells me she has been invited to
spend the summer at the Hawardens’ cottage at the Antlers.”
“Yes,” returned Caleb, drily, “Kind of Mrs. Hawarden, wasn’t it? Dey’s
as pleased as a small boy with a revolver. She’s been crazy to go to
the Adirondacks. I never knew she wanted to till last week, or—”
“And Mrs. Hawarden providentially invited her the next day?” put in
Caine, his mouth-corners twitching.
“That’s right,” assented Caleb, “I guess some big-hearted
philanthrofist just took such a fancy to Mrs. Hawarden as to pay the
whole fam’ly’s board bill there for the season;—on condition she
asked Dey. But keep that to yourself; for maybe it’s just a wrong
guess. An’ I wouldn’t have Dey know it for a thousand dollars. Now
go an’ send that reporter here.”
“I wonder,” mused Caine, as he departed on his queer mission,
“what Caleb Conover would be if all the rest of the world were like
Desirée Shevlin. It’s more interesting, though,” he added, “to
conjecture what he would be like without Desirée Shevlin. Where
would he stop, if she were out of his life?”
 CHAPTER XVI
DESIRÉE MAKES PLANS

Next morning, the Granite Star made known to the world at large
that grievous wrong had been done to the city and to its taxpayers
when their two foremost public buildings had been erected. These
edifices, hitherto the pride of Granite, were constructed of cheap,
inferior material: were ill-put together and were, in short, a disgrace,
a byword and a hissing. The city and county had paid for first-class
work. They had received fourth-rate value for their money.
And the miscreant on whom the sole and total blame rested was
Caleb Conover, President of the revivified C. G & X. railroad. He,
hiding behind the honorable name of a man since dead, had robbed
the city with one hand and the county with the other. Now, through
the cleverness of a Star reporter, his culpability was at last
unearthed.
Further, the Star desired, editorially, to avoid needless exploitation of
scandal and the bringing to light of misdemeanors for which there
now appeared to be no legal penalty. But it owed a duty to its
constituents, the thinking class of Granite. Perhaps Mr. Conover,
having, since the regrettable transactions, reared upon such
fraudulent foundations a fortune which was estimated as verging
upon the two million mark, would see his way toward making
restitution.
To which quip of Caine’s the Fighter retaliated by depressing Steeloid
stock. This bit of practical repartee led to a second editorial to the
effect that what was done was done, and that perhaps the wisest
and most dignified course would be to let the unfortunate matter
rest where it was. The lesser newspapers of the town, having bayed
with incredible loudness and ferocity the moment the Star gave
voice, now showed inclination to follow the leader’s example in
letting the scandal die out.
There were no further developments in the case to warrant
continuous re-hashing of the story through their columns. Ex-
Governor Parkman, finding himself and his crusade unceremoniously
side-tracked by this more interesting turn affairs had taken, sulked in
his tent. Caleb, after that first momentous interview, would see no
reporter. A new sensation was thoughtfully provided by the assistant
cashier of the Aaron Burr National Bank who wandered one day from
his post of duty and neglected to return; taking with him, in equal
absent-mindedness, $18,000 of the bank’s funds.
Caleb and his inspired confession, for all these excellent reasons,
were not even a nine-day wonder. Within a week the volcano had
subsided. The incident, apparently, was closed. Whether or not the
Grand Jury would take steps toward criminal prosecution remained
to be seen.
At the end of the week, Caleb, in answer to a peremptory summons,
called on Desirée.
“Where have you been?” she catechised with the air of an Angora
kitten enacting the role of Rhadamanthus.
“I’ve been busy,” he evaded, “Workin’ on a new deal we’re puttin’
through, an’—”
“Do you know it is eight whole days since you have been near me?”
she demanded.
“Nine,” he corrected humbly. “I—I been busy, an’—”
“And you haven’t called anywhere else?”
“Where else could I?” he asked in amaze. “There’s only one place I
expected to call. That’s at the Standishes’. An’ they’ve got mumps,
there. Besides, I kind of thought I’d wait until some of this
noospaper talk quieted down before I went anywheres. That’s—
that’s why I didn’t come here, either,” he went on, shamefacedly.
“I knew it!” she declared. “I knew that was it. I wondered if you
could be so utterly silly. So I waited. And it seems you could. Aren’t
you ashamed? It would have served you right if I hadn’t sent for you
at all. Why didn’t you come, Caleb? You surely don’t suppose all that
newspaper nonsense made any difference to me, do you? Now stop
looking at me as if I’d slapped you and promise not to be so bad any
more. Promise!”
“Look here!” blurted Caleb, at once relieved and puzzled, “How was I
to know you wouldn’t just about hate me when you heard how I’d
acted about those measly public buildin’s? An’ your father’s comp’ny
too. Why, I—”
“You don’t mean to say you thought I believed any of the absurd
story?” she cried, incredulous. “Why, Caleb Conover, I—”
“It was true!” he protested vehemently, “All of it was true. It was
me, an’ not your father that—”
“It was neither of you, if there was anything wrong about the
matter,” she decided with calm finality, “I don’t know business and I
don’t know politics. But I do know you and I knew Dad. And neither
of you could have done a low or dishonest thing if you had tried all
day. If the papers choose to twist your business dealings upside
down and try to make people think either of you defrauded anybody,
—why, so much the worse for people who are stupid enough to
believe such falsehoods. That’s all there is about it. I’ve seen
cartoons of you garroting the city of Granite, and I’ve read editorials
that called you ‘Brute’ Conover and I’ve waded through columns of
articles abusing you. And it all made me angry enough to cry. But
not at you, you old chum of mine. At the people who wrote such vile
things and tried to make the public believe them. Now let’s talk
about me. Are you glad I’m going away? Please be.”
“Am I glad I’m not goin’ to see you for more’n two months?”
corrected Caleb, “Not much I’m not. It gives me the blues ev’ry time
I think of it.”
“But you are going to see me. I’ve thought it all out, and I’ve got
your orders ready for you.”
“You don’t mean to say you’re not goin’?” queried Caleb in dismay.
“But you’ve got to, Dey. Just think how much you’ve wanted to,
an’—”
“Oh, I’m going,” she replied serenely. “I’ve promised Mrs. Hawarden.
And, besides, I wouldn’t miss it for worlds. But you’re coming, too.
Isn’t that nice?”
She leaned back to watch his delight in her revelation. But he eyed
her without a ray of understanding.
“I mean,” she explained, “you’re going to take a nice, long vacation
in August or September and coming up to the Antlers. I talked it
over with Jack Hawarden and it’s all arranged. There won’t be room
for you in the cottage, but you can get a tent or a lodge within a
stone’s throw of it; and we’ll have the gloriousest time you ever
dreamed of. Isn’t that splendid? Say it is!”
“But Dey,” he objected. “You don’t understand. I never took a
vacation in my life. I ain’t got time to. This is goin’ to be the busiest
summer yet, for me. I’ve a dozen irons in the fire. I’d like awful well
to come an’ see you there, but—”
“I’ve settled it all,” she replied calmly, “And you’re coming. It will
only be two weeks;—if you can’t get away for longer. But you’re
coming for those two weeks.”
“I can’t, Dey. I’ve got—”
“Now, I suppose you expect me to be a lowly squidge, and sigh and
say ‘Oh, very well!’” she retorted. “But I’m not going to do anything
of the sort. Listen: You’ve never had a vacation. Then it’s time you
took one. I’d be ashamed to be so inexperienced, if I were you.
You’ve got a lot of irons in the fire. Very well then; you have two
whole months to get enough of them out to let you take a fortnight’s
rest. You’ve never gone anywhere with me, Caleb. You’ve just been
with me for an afternoon or an evening when half your mind was on
that wretched railroad. Think of our being together for two gorgeous
outdoor weeks, with nothing to do but have all the good times there
are. And in the Adirondacks, too. Caleb!”
“I’d—I’d love to, Dey, if—”
“So then it’s all arranged!” she cried, happily.
“Hold on!” he exclaimed, “I can’t. I—”
“Now, I shall have to discipline you,” she sighed. “I see that. I was
afraid I’d have to. Look me in the eyes! Now, say after me: ‘I
promise to come to the Antlers for a fortnight this summer.’ Say it!”
“I—Why, Dey, I—”
“That isn’t what I told you to say!” she broke in, sternly. “Say it now.
Slowly. ‘I promise to—’—Say it!”
“I promise to—” he repeated in resignation.
“Come to the Antlers for a fortnight this summer. Say it!”
“Come to the Antlers for a fortnight this summer,” he groaned, “Lord!
What’ll my work do, while I—?”
“Now see how nice you are!” exulted Desirée, “You’re being good at
last. Don’t you feel happier now you’ve stopped being bad and
obstinate? Say so!”
“Does it make you happier?” he evaded.
“Of course it does. But,” she added, paying truth its strict due, “of
course I knew you were coming anyhow. Now let’s talk about it.”
“But say,” he protested, “S’pose you an’ your aunt run down to
Coney Island or Atlantic City after you leave the Adirondacks; an’ let
me come down there instead? There’s lots of fun to be had at those
places. But what can I do up in the woods? Just measly trees an’ sky
an’ water; an’ not even a Loop the Loop or a music hall, I s’pose.
Gee! It’s too slow for my taste.”
“Then it is my mission to improve your taste,” she insisted, frowning
down his amendment as unworthy of note, “Don’t you want to like