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  IV. A CANDIDATE FOR "RESPECTABILITY"

  To handle this new business properly I must put myself in positionto look the whole field over. I must get in line and in touch with"respectability." When Sam Ellersly came in for his "rations," I said:"Sam, I want you to put me up at the Travelers Club."

  "The Travelers!" echoed he, with a blank look.

  "The Travelers," said I. "It's about the best of the big clubs, isn't it?And it has as members most of the men I do business with and most of thoseI want to get into touch with."

  He laughed. "It can't be done."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "Oh--I don't know. You see--the fact is--well, they're a lot of old fogiesup there. You don't want to bother with that push, Matt. Take my advice. Dobusiness with them, but avoid them socially."

  "I want to go in there," I insisted. "I have my own reasons. You put meup."

  "I tell you, it'd be no use," he replied, in a tone that implied he wishedto hear no more of the matter.

  "You put me up," I repeated. "And if you do your best, I'll get in allright. I've got lots of friends there. And you've got three relatives inthe committee on membership."

  At this he gave me a queer, sharp glance--a little fright in it.

  I laughed. "You see, I've been looking into it, Sam. I never take a jumptill I've measured it."

  "You'd better wait a few years, until--" he began, then stopped and turnedred.

  "Until what?" said I. "I want you to speak frankly."

  "Well, you've got a lot of enemies--a lot of fellows who've lost money indeals you've engineered. And they'd say all sorts of things."

  "I'll take care of that," said I, quite easy in mind. "Mowbray Langdon'spresident, isn't he? Well, he's my closest friend." I spoke quite honestly.It shows how simple-minded I was in certain ways that I had never oncenoted the important circumstance that this "closest friend" had neverinvited me to his house, or anywhere where I'd meet his up-town associatesat introducing distance.

  Sam looked surprised. "Oh, in that case," he said, "I'll see what can bedone." But his tone was not quite cordial enough to satisfy me.

  To stimulate him and to give him an earnest of what I intended to do forhim, when our little social deal had been put through, I showed him how hecould win ten thousand dollars in the next three days. "And you needn'tbother about putting up margins," said I, as I often had before. "I'll takecare of that."

  He stammered a refusal and went out; but he came back within an hour, and,in a strained sort of way, accepted my tip and my offer.

  "That's sensible," said I. "When will you attend to the matter at theTravelers? I want to be warned so I can pull my own set of wires inconcert."

  "I'll let you know," he answered, hanging his head.

  I didn't understand his queer actions then. Though I was an expert infinance, I hadn't yet made a study of that other game--the game of"gentleman." And I didn't know how seriously the frauds and fakirs who playit take it and themselves. I attributed his confusion to a ridiculous mockmodesty he had about accepting favors; it struck me as being particularlysilly on this occasion, because for once he was to give as well as to take.

  He didn't call for his profits, but wrote asking me to mail him the checkfor them. I did so, putting in the envelop with it a little jog to hismemory on the club matter. I didn't see him again for nearly a month; andthough I searched and sent, I couldn't get his trail. On opening day atMorris Park, I was going along the passage behind the boxes in the grandstand, on my way to the paddock. I wanted to see my horse that was about torun for the Salmagundi Sweepstakes, and to tell my jockey that I'd give himfifteen thousand, instead of ten thousand, if he won--for I had put quite abunch down. I was a figure at the tracks in those days. I went into racingon my customary generous scale. I liked horses, just as I liked everythingthat belonged out under the big sky; also I liked the advertising my stringof thoroughbreds gave me. I was rich enough to be beyond the stage at whicha man excites suspicion by frequenting race-tracks and gambling-houses; Iwas at the height where prodigalities begin to be taken as evidences ofabounding superfluity, not of a dangerous profligacy. Jim Harkaway, whofailed at playing the same game I played and won, said to me with a sneerone day: "You certainly do know how to get a dollar's worth of notorietyout of a dollar's worth of advertising."

  "If I only knew that, Jim," said I, "I'd have been long ago where you'rebound for. The trick is to get it back ten for one. The more _you_advertise yourself, the more suspicious of you people become. The moremoney I 'throw away' in advertising, the more convinced people are that Ican afford to do it."

  But, as I was about to say, in one of the boxes I spied my shy friend,Sammy. He was looking better than I had ever seen him. Less heavy-eyed,less pallid and pasty, less like a man who had been shirking bed andkeeping up on cocktails and cold baths. He was at the rear of the box,talking with a lady and a gentleman. As soon as I saw that lady, I knewwhat it was that had been hiding at the bottom of my mind and ranklingthere.

  Luckily I was alone; ever since that lunch I had been cutting loose fromthe old crowd--from all its women, and from all its men except two or threereal friends who were good fellows straight through, in spite of theirhaving made the mistake of crossing the dead line between amateur "sport"and professional. I leaned over and tapped Sammy on the shoulder.

  He glanced round, and when he saw me, looked as if I were a policeman whohad caught him in the act.

  "Howdy, Sam?" said I. "It's been so long since I've seen you that Icouldn't resist the temptation to interrupt. Hope your friends'll excuseme. Howdy do, Miss Ellersly?" And I put out my hand.

  She took it reluctantly. She was giving me a very unpleasant look--as ifshe were seeing, not somebody, but some _thing_ she didn't care tosee, or were seeing nothing at all. I liked that look; I liked the womanwho had it in her to give it. She made me feel that she was difficult andtherefore worth while, and that's what alt we human beings are in businessfor--to make each other feel that we're worth while.

  "Just a moment," said Sam, red as a cranberry and stuttering. And he made amotion to come out of the box and join me. At the same time Miss Anita andthe other fellow began to turn away.

  But I was not the man to be cheated in that fashion. I wanted to see_her_, and I compelled her to see it and to feel it. "Don't let metake you from your friends," said I to Sammy. "Perhaps they'd like to comewith you and me down to look at my horse. I can give you a good tip--he'sbound to win. I've had my boys out on the rails every morning at the trialsof all the other possibilities. None of 'em's in it with Mowghli."

  "Mowghli!" said the young lady--she had begun to turn toward me as soon asI spoke the magic word, "tip." There may be men who can resist that word"tip" at the race-track, but there never was a woman.

  "My sister has to stay here," said Sammy hurriedly. "I'll go with you,Blacklock."

  All this time he was looking as if he were doing something he ought to beashamed of. I thought then he was ashamed because he, professing to be agentleman, had been neglecting his debt of honor. I now know he was ashamedbecause he was responsible for his sister's being contaminated by contactwith such a man as I! I who hadn't a dollar that wasn't honestly earned;I who had made a fortune by my own efforts, and was spending my millionslike a prince; I who had taste in art and music and in architecture andfurnishing and all the fine things of life. Above all, I who had been hisfriend and benefactor. _He_ knew I was more of a gentleman than hecould ever hope to be, he with no ability at anything but spending money;he a sponge and a cadger, yes, and a welcher--for wasn't he doing his bestto welch me? But just because a lot of his friends, jealous of my successand angry that I refused to truckle to them and be like them instead oflike myself, sneered at me--behind my back--this poor-spirited creaturewas daring to pretend to himself that I wasn't fit for the society of hissister!

  "Mowghli!" said Miss Ellersly. "What a quaint name!"

  "My trainer gave it," said I. "I've got a second son of one of thosebroke
n-down English noblemen at the head of my stables. He's trying to getmoney enough together to be able to show up at Newport and take a shy at anheiress."

  At this the fellow who was fourth in our party, and who had been giving mea nasty, glassy stare, got as red as was Sammy. Then I noticed that he wasan Englishman, and I all but chuckled with delight. However, I said, "Nooffense intended," and clapped him on the shoulder with a friendly smile."He's a good fellow, my man Monson, and knows a lot about horses."

  Miss Ellersly bit her lip and colored, but I noticed also that her eyeswere dancing.

  Sam introduced the Englishman to me--Lord Somebody-or-other, I forget what,as I never saw him again. I turned like a bulldog from a toy terrier andwas at Miss Ellersly again. "Let me put a little something on Mowghli foryou," said I. "You're bound to win--and I'll see that you don't lose. Iknow how you ladies hate to lose."

  That was a bit stiff, as I know well enough now. Indeed, my instinctwould have told me better then, if I hadn't been so used to the sort ofwomen that jump at such an offer, and if I hadn't been casting about sodesperately and in such confusion for some way to please her. At any rate,I hardly deserved her sudden frozen look. "I beg pardon," I stammered, andI think my look at her must have been very humble--for me.

  The others in the box were staring round at us. "Come on," cried Sam,dragging at my arm, "let's go."

  "Won't you come?" I said to his sister. I shouldn't have been able to keepmy state of mind out of my voice, if I had tried. And I didn't try.

  Trust the right sort of woman to see the right sort of thing in a manthrough any and all kinds of barriers of caste and manners and breeding.Her voice was much softer as she said: "I think I must stay here. Thankyou, just the same."

  As soon as Sam and I were alone, I apologized. "I hope you'll tell yoursister I'm sorry for that break," said I.

  "Oh, that's all right," he answered, easy again, now that we were away fromthe others. "You meant well--and motive's the thing."

  "Motive--hell!" cried I in my anger at myself. "Nobody but a man's Godknows his motives; he doesn't even know them himself. I judge others bywhat they do, and I expect to be judged in the same way. I see I've got alot to learn." Then I suddenly remembered the Travelers Club, and asked himwhat he'd done about it.

  "I--I've been--thinking it over," said he. "Are you _sure_ you want torun the risk of an ugly cropper, Matt?"

  I turned him round so that we were facing each other. "Do you want to do methat favor, or don't you?" I demanded.

  "I'll do whatever you say," he replied. "I'm thinking only of yourinterests."

  "Let _me_ take care of _them_," said I. "You put me up at thatclub to-morrow. I'll send you the name of a seconder not later than noon."

  "Up goes your name," he said. "But don't blame me for the consequences."

  And my name went up, with Mowbray Langdon's brother, Tom, as seconder.Every newspaper in town published the fact, most of them under big blackheadlines. "The fun's about to begin," thought I, as I read. And I wasright, though I hadn't the remotest idea how big a ball I had opened.