The Wayfarers. Mary Stewart Cutting

to gaze on the face of one.

      Many a man who has an upright nature and a good disposition fails to show these facts patently to the casual observer. To Justin Alexander had been given the grace of a singularly attractive countenance. He was of a fair complexion, with light hair, a good nose slightly aquiline, and a well-shaped mouth and chin; but his charm was irrespective of feature. No one could look at him and not know him to be a man of sweet and fine honor. The gaze of his keen blue eyes—clear, though not very large—carried conviction to whomsoever it rested on that a clean and honest soul dwelt therein. Although he did not in the least realize it, this had been one of the greatest factors in any success that he had ever had, joined as it was to good judgment and great physical energy. Everyone liked him, not for what he said or did, but for what he was, and for the encouragement of his bright glance, which had a convincing and magnetic quality in it. He talked intelligently and well, although not a great deal, and among the many people who were drawn toward him a corresponding liking on his part was easily inferred. Yet he was, in fact, innately although dumbly critical; a reticent man as to his own thoughts and opinions, he took an inward measurement of persons and circumstances often the very reverse of what was supposed. This attitude of his was in no sense of the word hypocritical, it came instead from a constitutional dislike of voicing his innermost feelings. It somehow hurt him to acknowledge defects in others, and he had also an impersonal sense of justice which allowed for good qualities in those who were uncongenial to him; he did not really like the man who sat beside him, and with whom he had the prospect of being intimately associated, but even his wife had hardly divined this; certainly Joseph Leverich himself, large, jovial, and shrewd-eyed, would have been the last to suspect it.

      “The gist of the matter is this, Alexander,” he was saying, as he hit one hand heavily with the large forefinger of the other, “we want a man capable not only of overseeing the works,—Harker understands that pretty well,—but of managing the real business of the factory and representing it with business men; neither Foster nor I can attend to it—Great Scott, I wish we could! We haven’t the time. We bought the whole outfit a couple of years ago; it’s only one of twenty other irons we have in the fire.”

      “I know that your interests are large,” said Alexander, as Leverich paused.

      “The great drawback to having large interests is that you have to delegate so much of the management to others. When we took up this, it ran itself, after a fashion; but since that a dozen other people are making the same thing—of course, with slight variations, but practically the same thing. Patents don’t really protect you much. Now we want our machine pushed; but neither Foster nor I, for different reasons, can do this. The fact is, we don’t want to appear at all. And we’ve had our eye on you for some time.”

      “This is news to me,” said Alexander.

      “Now the control of the factory has to be settled suddenly, out of hand; somebody has got to take hold. So we make you the offer. We will deposit fifty thousand to your credit, to be used as working capital—you can’t branch out with less; you’ve got to be able to work to advantage. The days have gone when a business could be set going on a couple of thousand and worked up with industry and frugality, as the copy-books say, into the millions. Small concerns nowadays go to the wall—and serve ’em right, I say; only fools believe in success without money. We’ll see to your backing! Of course, the interest will be paid out of the business, you don’t undertake it individually. At the end of two years more we ought to have a big thing.”

      “And if we don’t?” said Alexander.

      The other’s dim gooseberry eyes suddenly flashed. “If you think we will not, you are not the man we want—he’s got to have the courage of his convictions to be worth his salt. But you can’t put me off this way—I know you. Take up the project or leave it—I say this, but in reality you can’t leave it, and you know it. A man doesn’t get a chance like this twice. Hamilton came to us the other day for the position, and we refused him, although he had capital and we wouldn’t have had to advance a cent of the money we’re willing to put up for you.”

      “But why are you willing to?” Justin looked with his bright eyes at the other.

      “Because you are the man we want!” Leverich leaned forward eagerly, and shifted his large frame so as to put each muscle into an easier position. “Don’t let’s go over that old ground again. You’ve had just the experience in the old company that we need; but it’s your wide acquaintance that tells, and it’s that that we’re willing to buy. We believe you can make a market for our goods.”

      “It is an important step,” said the other thoughtfully, “to leave a certainty for an uncertainty—not that I should regard it as an uncertainty if I took it,” he added, with a smile.

      “I know it’s hard to break away and start out for yourself when you have a family; lots of men go all their lives in a rut because they haven’t the courage to take the plunge. But you don’t want to work for somebody else all your life; you don’t want to feel that you’re wasting all your best years. By and by it will be too late. And a growing family takes more money each year, instead of less—you’ve got to think of that, too. It’s a terrible thing to be always cramped, and know there’s no way out of it in this world.”

      “You don’t need to tell me all this, Leverich,” said Justin coolly.

      “No, I know I don’t; but I want you to realize that you have your chance now—one in a million. I’m sorry to hurry you, but you see the way we’re fixed. Say the word now! Get it off your mind and you’ll sleep easier. I know what your word is—as good as your bond. I’d take it! You can give any formal decision later.”

      Justin still smiled, but he shook his head; though capable of quick decision when necessary, it was yet impossible to hurry him; his actions in every case depended on his own thought, and gained no volition from outside influences, which might indeed retard but could never compel. Virtually he had concluded to accept Leverich’s offer, but he would take his own time about saying so; he felt the haste of the other man to be somewhat of an offense against decency.

      “Well!” Leverich shrugged his heavy shoulders at the bright impenetrableness that was like a shining armor. “We said we’d give you until Wednesday, so of course we will. We will bring the books around to-night anyway, and go over them, as we planned; you can’t afford to lose any time. And talk to your wife about it, she’s a sensible woman—and one who longs, like all the rest of ’em, for more than she’s got,” he added to himself, with cynical satisfaction.

      “Martin is watching us now,” he continued, waving his hand over toward the other side of the boat, where a slight, insignificant-looking man with small features and a large, bulging forehead lifted his hand in an answering gesture. “You’d never think, to look at him, that he was what he is; he has more brains in his little finger than I have in my whole head.” Leverich spoke with evident sincerity. “I’m just a plain man of business, but Foster’s a genius. He fixed on you from the start. Hello, we’re ’most in already.”

      The crowd from the rear cabin had begun to push through the passageway and surge to the front of the boat, which was still some distance from the dock. The man next them folded up his paper, and Justin and Leverich rose mechanically and stood amid the throng, which became more and more compact every moment.

      Suddenly both men started as they looked back at the fresh accessions to the crowd, and pushed sideways, falling behind a little to get in line with a tall and slender young woman with pink roses in a black hat, and a dotted veil that emphasized her rich coloring. She raised her head as a voice beside her said:

      “Good evening, Mrs. Alexander!”

      “Oh, is that you, Mr. Leverich? How do you do? I haven’t met a soul I knew on the boat until this moment, and now I see six people. Oh, Justin!” She had faced around as a hand was laid on her arm, and stood looking up at him with happily surprised eyes, while he smiled back at her with a slight flush on his own cheek. “I was looking for you all the time,” she said.

      The sudden and unexpected meeting