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About The Oregon daily journal. (Portland, Or.) 1902-1972 | View Entire Issue (March 10, 1918)
THE " SUNDAY FICTION MAGAZINE, MARCH 1 10. 1918. n By EARL DERR BIGGERS Illustrated by F. McAnelly i HIS Important thins to remember about -Mr. Bishop Van Reypan is that he , served his country. Some men die for their native land, others dance for It. Mr. Van Reypan was of the latter contingent. In the forefront of the most enervating cotillions he did valiant serv ice for his flag. Where the afternoon tea raced fiercest there one found him brave ly bearing an Ice for some distinguished lady; Through the dullest of dinners, the lengthiest of receptions, his patriotism stood the strain. ' Because of-his uncle's influence Mr. Van Reypan had become attached to our consulate at a certain city in Jpan. The duties allotted to him were purely social. He saw to it that his superiors never had to waltz. Hewas but one of an army of pleasant young men scattered over the ' globe In like service for the flag young men who dream, as they change, their pajamas for evening clothes of some day being transferred to Paris. Said Mr. Sandy Trotter, once Mr. Van Reypan'a classmate at Tale, on the occa sion of his only vlsto Japan: "I find you here in this comic .opera country, dancing your heart out for the Stars and Stripes, and I'm touched. Van, touched. They'll all be proud of you when the news, travels back home. Real ly, you're a hero. George Cohan ought to write a very flaggy musical comedy . arouna you." "Please don't Jest on a sacred topic," dow seat where he lay at rest. "I sup pose it will strike you as funny to hear me say it; but, for a fact, all this has be come a very serious business to me." He . yawned with fervor. "There really is an idea somewhere at the back of my head that I'm doing something for my country. They think out here that we're all social barbarians I'm teaching them different. I can outstare any Englishman in Japan, and while I can't bow so gracefully as What's-hls-name at the French consul ate, I'm watching him closely; and some day I'll bow him off the map. Seriously. It's a er a privilege to teach these scornful aliens that Americans can two step as well as sell agricultural imple ments. Sorry I couldn't play tennis with you today." "What was It," Inquired Mr. Trotter "another afternoon with a very Impor tant and equally homely dowager?" "A tea," said Mr. Van Reypan. "A tea with our British cousins, to meet their distinguished but fault finding oroiner irom overseas, i a ratner nave had the tennis " "I know," put in Sandy; "your coun try called. Far be it from me. Don't apologize." I "Tonight," Mr. Van Reypan an nounced, "la free. We'll take in a Jap anese theater. Tou'U laugh yourself into a decline probably over a tragedy. Now " "If you will pause in your yawning," aid Mr, Tmttftr "vnn mio-H 411 r. what all this is leading to. It is all right ' to indulge in a twoeaepping contest with the foreign powers; but what do you get In the end? Where are you when the last carnation has faded? Tell me that." fLr Van Ttaim-n ,1 i j , gazed at the celling. 1 "Well," he said reflectively, "it has been bruited about that from a similar post many men have er married well. I don't er I don't exactly approve of the idea, but if the girl were pretty I v might be able to marry for love, and let ' the money come as an afterthought. I suppose I'm all sorts of a cad to say it "Ton are," retorted Mr. Trotter promptly. His honest face was grave and troubled. "Better come back with me to the States.' These pink teas have . gone to your brain. Let some other , handsome youth waltz your Uncle Sam into a world power. You could get a Job" -Sandy," said Mr. Van Reypan, "what you suggest Is madness. While little old Japan "holds her, it is the land for me. tou now whom I mean. The Jamieson ' girlthe one with the big brown eyes. One look into them " ' " "Yes," said Mr. Trotter meaningly ' "the maiden with two million in her own name. I know."" iumimx aear oia. mend," advised Mr; Van Reypan, "Is an afterthought. : Kindly consider it always an after thought" ; - Mr, Trotter ' heaved his ex-football bulk out of his chair and paced the room. It was torture to behold a friend in the state of mind In which his patriotism had landed Mr. Van Reypan. He paused at the aide of the -window seat and, not wishing to look into the eyes of the man who iky there, stared at the quaint; papier-machelike gables that cluttered all outdoors. " .-- a, ..-r- Now, see here," he said. "I dont think you'd marry any girl for her money- " - - Mr. Va Reypan sat bolt upright.,. ' C3iVtCerf.tL.lio ald bit angrily. f ' .1 "And I wouldn't take that insinuation from anyone but you. I'mHn love, you old'plow horse In love. "-It's nice she has money but it really doesn't matter in the least. Td be Just as fond, anyhow. She's a wonder. Confound it, man, have you seen her?" T have," replied Mr. Trotter, "and well you should know it. You steered me Into her company. Oh, she's all right, though she does go in for romance and the moonlight -falllng-sof tly-on-the-ruined-temple stuff a little too strong for me. She and I sat on the Methodist ve randaI can't remember all these mis sionary names-rthe other night, and she pointed to a small white building, across -the bay and had all sorts of thrills over it. It was so romantic looking, and an exiled poet might have dreamed there, and all that rot. I hadn't the heart to tell her It was the local office of the Standard Oil Company." "I should say not," said Mr. Van Rey pan. "It would have spoiled her entire evening. She is romantic And that's good It's my one precious ray of hope. Money doesn't mean everything to her. You shoAd see the way she treats that rich little cad, Norris, who came all the way out from the States to see her. I tell you, she's the right sort. By Gad say " He leaped from the window seat and ran to his desk. There he 11111 among papers, and presently held up a note, tragically. "Did I say the theater tonight, old boy? Well, I'm dreadfully sorry but there's a dinner to a funny little Jap doc tor who's discovered a serum or some thing, and of course the TJ. S. has to be represented. If you'll excuse me " "You remind me. Van, of the books in the prep school library. At the first call of the bugle Bish Van Reypan, the little drummer boy, leaped cheerily from his hard col and donned bis uniform. Soon we find him amid the weary-eyed soldiers of the social set, and bravely does our lit tle hero fight all night in the front ranks of the cotillion. Not until the retreat sounds " Mr. Van Reypan cast a pah of brushes at his friend and departed with no other farewell. And that friend, breathing heavily above a slender writing desk, which seemed likely at any moment to collapse beneath his weight, wrote later in the evening to another man in far New York. I dont know how it will end 1 wish I could do something to make It end light. There always were the two sides to Van, and we all knew it was a gamble as to which side would win out. Sometimes he's a man all through and then again he wants to loll on a divan, with a dusky little wizard to hand over the long, cool glass and let him pay who wilL This Job out here dancing in competition with a lot of gold-lace puppets has Just about fin ished him. He's on the verge of mar rying a girl with money and good by to him if he ever does that. I'd stop It if I could; but, well. It isn't any of my business, you know. And say, the funny part of it all is he thinks he's doing something for his native heath when he trips the light fantastic on a foreign strand. Poor old Van. That will show you how far gone he is. Mr. Trotter finished his letter to the man in New York and went over and gazed out St the tile roofs of the city, bright In the moonlight. Such a little. "See here," said the prospective sailor, iw, ridiculous cluster of a town he felt that he could toss it into a heap, with a turn of his foot, as he had tossed his sis ter's dollhouses In the nursery long ago. 'Gee. I wish I could do something," muttered the faithful Mr. Trotter! J And at that moment the servant of his coun try returned from the frajv-wllted and. alow of step. . r : "The war Is over, mother," begaa Mr. Trotter, but Mr. Van Reypan quickly cut him off. v ' . . "Don't," he said simply, and there was that In his tone which brought Mr. Trot ter's instant obedience. "Sandy," he said presently, "what sort of feow should you say this Ibrris Is?" "Well," returned Mr. Trotter, reflect ing, "he has wined. I get thatJrom the lovely crimson of his face. And he has all ' - -he sat again with her on dned. I get that from his waist line. Further than these things, he has. not lived." . "Exactly," responded Mr. Van Reypan. "A cheap, contemptible little snob. His companionship is an insult." "It Is," said Mr. Trotter; "but I kept 1 won't have you baiting looking at the waist line and was com forted. Oh, avenging waist liner It's going to keep on pushing him farther and farther away from he-'Fifth avenue dub' window out of which he loves to gaze." - Mr. Van Reypan turned his' eyes out toward the guttering roofs. - "She's going to marry him." - he r' marked abruptly. ' n '- -,. Who is? lax Trotter eyas lighted. "Margaret Jamieson. She told me. so herself a half hour ago. when we parted at .the Maxwell's." Mr, Trotter whistled softly. Inwardly he was elated; outwardly, sympathetic "It's too bad. Van." he said. "She's marrying him for his money," accused Van Reypan bitterly. "Confound the fellow." said Mr. TroV ter, letting the nice satire of this go un- the Maxwell balcony, while the moonlight fell silver on the roof tiles. noted; "he's not the sort I'd expect to step over here and claim the lovely mald - en. It's done by a naval ensign in mu sical comedy and they stand together In the spotlight and sing about the benefi cial effects of love." "Were you ever se rious?? queried Mr. Van Reypan. "I beg your par don," said Mr. Trot ter. "I am frivolous. Im sorry. We doped her out wrong. Van. I see now I ought to have told her that villa was the Stand ard Oil office if I want ed to make a hit. The romance stuff was a bluff. We doped her out wrong. You never can tell about a woman." "Oblige me," broke in Mr. Van. Reypan, "by not making a song about it." He gazed for a time out over the city, while the squeak of the phonograph filled their ears. "Sandy, you were right," he said presently. Tm not getting anywhere out here. I ought to go back to the States with you." "Right-o!" cried Mr. Trotter. He tore the letter to the man in New York into bits and tossed them glee in!' fully Into a waste basket. "Right you are. 'When do we start?" - . "Well as soon as I can fix it up to have a successor appointed. Some -other youth will have to come out' here and , show 'em, Sandy, In the name of Uncle Sam. I'm going back to the lights of the little town across from Brooklyn' back to the bunch on Forty-fourth, street. And to some other things almost too acred ts mention among them, a man's Job." Mr. Trotter seized him and dragged him forth for a walk under the stars. They passed down the narrow streets; the little shops receded, giving way to temples set in ancient groves; and finally they came to the open country. In the heart of Mr. Trotter was exultation; In that of Mr. Van Reypan was a chaos of feeling, out of which emerged, clearly, a longing for the great city of palm rooms and derby hats. Several weeks later Mr. Van Reypan and Mr. Trotter stood on deck and watched the .water front of Yokohama creep Isack to Join the horizon As they turned away to the smoking-room te man who had served his country spoke: "Well, it's all over. That raw young graduate who's travelling toward the ris ing sun will have to answer the call of duty in my stead I hope he answers It welL By Oad, Sandy, I'm glad you came. Tm glad I'm going home." "Any gladness," Mr. Trotter assured htm; "is mutual." In the smoking-room, Mr. Van Reypan took from his pocket a fat, soiled letter, and tearing it open. read. Then he looked up with a smile. "An amusing epistle, this," he said "bat from the heart, Sandy. It's from Yens Talsuke. a little Jap kid I er helped. I tried to put him on to the curves of English a bit and then I found , out how horribly poor he was, and the hopeless home he came from. So I got him a Job with the Maxwell company. His gratitude was er I want to read you what he says. It isn't modest of me, maybe, but it's too good to miss. It seems he didn't get an accounting from bis predecessor on the Job, and when he should have been promoted, he wasn't. So he lost face.' Listen to his perora tion: , I would like to see yon leave and take your hand, but in place I most write. I would rather have been pro moted, and I am sad. So I please not to come to you again until I am pro moted, and can come to you with vig-' orous and triumphant mood oi heart. Come to Japan twice, eh, my bene factor. Mr. Trotter souled. , : "By Gad, you served some one besides Uncle Sam, didn't your he aald,;' "Oh, forget It," replied Mr. Vaa Rey- pan. only read It to you to give yoo a laugh." y . ' ' ?X know," said Mr. Trotter; "but what v l am- trying to get at is, when you think that little brown chap, bettsr eS than he was before you came out here, therVs; no reason why you shouldn't go back-fx America with a 'vigorous and triumphant mood of heart." "Perhaps not," said Mr. Van.Reypani,, "And if your highly moral reflections are ended, I'll trouble you for a match." ' .' Six weeks passed, and Mr. Van Rey pan stood n a high-paneled library be fore Henry F. Meredith, head and mn. Ing spirit of one of the greatest depart- ' ment stores in New York. Mr. Meredith was the heavy, shrewd, financially en- , grossed brother of the frail, visionary little woman who had brought Mr. Van Reypan Into the world. Through hia uncle's money Mr. Van Reypan had been educated; through his uncle's Influence he had gone to Japan; and, now he de-. sired "a man's Job." it was only natural,, , that he should stand waiting once more in that gloomy room. - The old man ran his fingers through his gray hair and pondered. Then he proffered a cigar. x "Well," he said. "I couldn't stand it any longer," ex plained Mr. Van Reypan. "I wanted to be -back here er doing something, ymi ' ' know. I hope you're not angry." " ' 1 , Henry F. Meredith smiled a rare'f eat! ' "Not exactly," he said. "I wondered how long you could stand that pink tea out yonder. For you've got Meredith blood in you I've been sure of that. And I've been praying that some day it would win out over the exquisite blue variety your mother brought Into the family when she married an excellent name and little else." "I beg your pardon," vat'. said Mr. Van Reypan. "I beg yours I'm sorry," replied the older man. He bowed his head a mo ment. "Sometimes I've been afraid you'd marry 'out there one of these colorless hothouse girls with money, whose cash would be the end of a kid like you. 1Mry rather see you married' to one of my ov.-n shop girls. But you didn't and you're -back. And it's up to me once more, 1 suppose." "It is this far." said Mr. Van Reypan "I want a Job; I want a chance to mfrk' good and then it's up to me.v ' :; "Do you mean to tell me," in.nr.lm Henry Meredith, "that you'll take a plctf in the store?" "I'll take any place," explained the rx patriot. . The old man's face lighted. He looked at the boy and opened his lips then closed them. Then he actually snilIeii-T , again, a pleasant smile 1 i . "I'll fix it up with Mason tomorrow," he said. Wherefore, a few mornings ster, Mr. Van Reypan, having answered the bin. tant summons of a 98-cent alarm clock, appeared at the Meredith store with what Sandy Trotter would have called his "shining morning face" aglow from a ' brisk walk down town. .Yes, amid 2,000 weary-eyed llttlegirls, in shirtwaists and. ready made skirts. Bishop Van Reypan, late exquisite of the American consulate In a far Japanese city, appeared for work and took up his duties as. assistant man ager of the third floor. ' Days grew Into weeks, days that might be gray or gold without, but were all the same within days through which maddened lady shoppers rushed In never- ' ending parade, days through which Mr. Van Reypan consulted, advised, and set many hearts a-flutter under cheap peek-a-boo waists. And though he little guessed it then, and would have laughed a well-bred laugh of soora at the thought, . she was there, up inthe optical depart ment. On! the second day of his new life ' he had met her. - m; , "I am Miss Blake I assist Mr. Mor ton." Her eyes were big and gray and frank, lighting a face that was well worth while. "Ah, yes I am Mr. Van Reypan the new assistant manager of the floor. If v any difficulties arise " Yes," she said. And she watched him as he moved away. "Don't make a fool of yourself." It was Her mind that spoke1, J almost angrily, to her heart. And the heart meekly obeyed. Then one day a difficulty did arise, and Mr. Van Reypan, recovered somewhat from the confusion of the, first weeks, looked, and saw. Thereafter, as was nat ural, perhaps, his eyes turned often to the optical department. And where hia ' eyes turned,-there his feet led him. One night they went to dinner. and the theater. And Mies Blake told him of her' home, up in Maine of the baby iamb that they were raising on a bottle be- ' oause-of its orphaned state, and of many' ' other thing simple and eweeL And she told him of her first days In the store, beC' fore she had risen to her present proud " position. Those were sad days, when one - had to live on S a week days when one ' did one's own washing, "and sKirlmped. ' and gazed out of one's small window over the oirjr and wondered if the end would make tt att worta while. -' Kr. Van Reypan, listening, reeiijed . for the first time where the Meredith tail-r Uons ccne from, "and' recalled jvlh a"1?
