THE PRIZE CONTEST.
Chapter III.
Everything was bustles and excitement as Lotus and Clement entered Recreation Park. Covered with dust and reeking with perspiration, the Knights look anything but the gay gallants that rendezvoused at the city building a few hours before. Hunger and fatigue had robbed them of their soldierly bearing, but not even these could sully their good sprits. The Afro-American is proverbially cheerful. He banishes sorrow as an evanescent dream. Lotus Stone had been taking an introspective inventory as he listened to the laudatory exuberance of his friend. He paid but little heed to the impression that Clement declared the nymph of the "Elms" had made upon himself. He knew that Clement's intoxication would subside as rapidly as it had arisen. Lotus Stone saw in Regenia Underwood a possible future – a future in which he might play an important part. A consummate dilettante in the social world of Washington, he had made no embarrassing advancements. After floating for three years upon the vortex of that enticing whirlpool, society, he was as free, heart and hand, as when he entered its enchanting delirium. It was, therefore, with no longing for another "dangling" triumph that as he listened to Clement's somewhat extravagant praise, he resolved to know more of the pretty occupant of the "Elms."
Clement St. John, on the contrary, was interest in Regenia as a new type – somebody to talk about and rave over. His loquacity, at all times, was unbounded. He thought, he often said, by talking. He called this proceeding "thinking audibly." It was after his usual manner, he went into verbal hysterics concerning the adventure related in the previous chapter. As they approached the grand pavilion, at the top of the incline, an officer, who hurried them off to dinner, said, "Not a moment to lose; grand review at 2 o'clock sharp."
"I will be on time," said Lotus, seating himself in the nearest vacant chair. While Lotus and Clement are enjoying themselves at dinner let us take a look at Recreation Park, a recent addition to the pleasure resorts of Mt. Clare.
For years these grounds were the private belongings of Mr. G. N. Tolbert, an Afro-American, and but lately had fallen into the hands of their present owners. Located about two miles from the city, the rapid growth of population in that direction induced the street railway company to make the park the terminus of their road. They tried for years to purchase the grounds, but the owner, being a man of pronounced religious sentiments, refused to sell, fearing that the place would be converted into a beer-garden. Under a special stipulation that no intoxicating liquors should ever be sold in the park, he was finally induced to part with his interest. Tolbert Park was from that time known as Recreation Park. The corporation, as far as it could be done without destroying the natural beauties, had modernized the place. There was a shallow ravine between the entrance and the main part of the park. On each side of the carriage way, which was elevated so as to make the drive from the gates to the foot of the hill almost level, the ravine had been converted into artificial lakes. Covering the water almost completely, broad, green-leafed water lilies grew in picturesque profusion. The drive up the hill, called "lovers' lane," was canopied by the overhanging branches of the deep-rooted elms. Mr. Tolbert was a tree fancier, and every tree that could be induced to sprout in the region of Mt. Clare, he planted in his park. The great oaks, which were by all odds in the majority, lifted their proud heads like giant sentinels above their neighbors of a less hardy growth. On the east side of the park, the hill sloped gently toward the lake. At the foot of this incline the street railway company had fitted up a base ball park. This was to be the scene of the prize drill. Scattered about the grounds were rustic seats, sylvan bowers and every other device to charm and hold the pleasure seeker.
Promptly at 2 o'clock the staccato notes of the bugle sounded, warning the commanders to get their men in line for the "Grand Review." At the second call of the bugle, the Grand Officers took their places on a platform, erected for the purpose, in the centre of the park. To the thrill of inspiring music, each company, swords at a "present," passed in review and formed in a double line, facing the Grand Officers. The line having been formed the Grand Generalissimo advanced to the front of the of the platform and in clear ring tones, heard by every Knight in line, commands: "Attention, Sir Knights!" Then follows the sword manual. Apparently satisfied with the proficiency which the Knights have exhibited, he faces about and reports to the Eminent Grand Commander. The announcement is made that the prize contest will take place immediately at the Ball park, on the east side of the grounds. The contestants march to the place appointed, the others break ranks and hurry away to secure a comfortable point to observe the drill. The Grand Review being an event of the past, Lotus immediately instituted a vain search for Clement. Disappointed at not finding his friend, he threw himself upon the green sward, in the midst of a number of Knights, to watch the corps manoeuvre.
The grounds were so spacious that no one was jostled for want of room. The day was perfect. Seated upon the grass or reclining on one elbow, the crowed chatted merrily, while the "crack" commandery, heralded by the famous "Big Six Band," marched upon the field. A ripple of applause, swelling into a gushing outburst, greeted them, as with unity of step and elbow to elbow they presented swords to the judges. As each new picturesque evolution dissolved into another equally new and decidedly more intricate, the enthusiasm of the spectators was unbounded. In advance of the judges, the delighted observers, pronounced the movements perfect. Amid clapping of hands waving of handkerchiefs and ringing cheers, the first contestants marched from the field. One fact, however, was apparent to the initiated – much of the enthusiasm was started by a Knight in fatigue uniform who, surrounded by a half dozen others, reclined beneath the banner of the commandery first upon the field. Lotus, tired of reclining thought he would stand up and rest himself by a change of position. He noticed, as he glanced toward the right, a gentleman frantically waving his hat. He looked again, but as the waving had ceased, he gave the incident no further attention but turned to observe the second company, which, with great eclat, was marching upon the field. A slight tap on the shoulder and the familiar, "Well, old man," from Clement, standing behind him, left no doubt of whose hat he saw so imperatively but a short time since.
"I have been wearing my good right arm to a withered shadow of its former size trying to attract your attention," said Clement.
"I saw you," said Lotus, apologetically, "but in such a multitude, how could you expect a near-sighted man to determine whether the hat waved for him or someone else."
"Silence!" said Clement, in a mock commanding tone, "follow your leader and ask no questions."
Lotus obeyed orders. They had not gone far before they came to a number of ladies and gentlemen seated upon the grass, among whom were Regenia Underwood, Lucile Malone and Mrs. Levitt. The latter was Regenia's foster mother. With little ceremony, Clement introduced his friend to the ladies.
"I believe you have met my friend, Mrs. Stone, Miss Underwood," remarked Clement, as he presented Lotus.
"In face and form he is familiar, but this is my first acquaintance with his name," said Regenia pleasantly.
"You were determined that Mr. St. John's implied quotation should be literally fulfilled. Your offer came at a time most needed; I was nearly famishing for a drink of water," Lotus hastened to reply.
"It was too bad that you should come for water just as the well had run dry," answered Regenia.
"Not as it ended. We have been thanking our good angel ever since that we did wait until the first supply had been exhausted," said Clement, who stood listening to the conversation.
Clement had Lucile Malone to thank for his introduction to Regenia. Lucile was a stenographer in the office of the "Times," and through her he had often heard of Miss Underwood. Lucile and Regenia had been friends for years. In company with Regenia was her chaperone. Mrs. Levitt had attended Regenia's mother in her last illness, and held her hand when she died. For more than two years after the death of Regenia's mother, Mrs. Levitt had cared for the child. She considered Regenia too precious to ever stray very far from her foster mother's sight. At eighteen, Regenia was as much of a child to Mrs. Levitt as she was at two. Wherever the young child went Mrs. Levitt was at her side, and where Mrs. Levitt was not acceptable, Regenia was rarely seen.
Lotus addressed his conversation more to Mrs. Levitt than to the fair girl who sat beside her. He talked of the Knights, their hopes and aims, regretting incidentally that he was obliged to see so little of the commandery to which he belonged.
This led Mrs. Levitt to inquire why he was so frequently absent from his commandery and Lotus to disclose his occupation at Washington.
To this conversation Regenia lent an ear not altogether free from curiosity.
"Is it you intention to make Washington your permanent abode?" she asked, unable longer to hide the interest which Mr. Stone's pleasing talk had created.
"No," said Lotus, "it has not been absolutely decreed that our party will always remain in power, and if I had permanent employment," he hastened to add, "I have determined to lead a life far removed from the delights of Washington."
"Would it be considered inquisitive if I should ask what profession you will follow?"
"Why a profession?" asked Lotus with a quizzical smile.
"I am sure I do not know, unless it is that you have professional air," answered Regenia.
"There are professions and professions," said Clement St. John. "My idea of a profession –" he continued.
"Is publishing a tri-weekly newspaper," chimed in Lucile. "Let me warn you in time, ladies, Mr. St. John would write up the undertaker at his own wife's funeral, if he thought he could get the article in the columns of a leading 'daily.'"
"Not so fast, my fair little friend. I am not a benedict, and if you do not soon give me a more business-like answer, I shall be obliged to cast my eye in another direction," said Clement, with good natured raillery.
"You did not tell us what profession you are to follow, Mr. Stone," said Regenia, blushing as she pronounced the name of Lotus for the first time.
"Saw-bones," said Clement.
A rousing cheer from the crowd attracted attention to the drill.
"I like it immensely," said Lucile, "but the more I see of it the more complicated it appears."
"You would make an excellent judge," said Clement. "It is a pity that the sphere of woman is so circumscribed. The judges will award the prize to the commandery receiving the most applause. A knowledge and correct execution of military tactics have 'nothing to do with the case.'"
"I s that the way the victors are chosen?" asked Regenia with much surprise.
"Do not take anything he says as sober earnest, and you will be nearer the truth," said Lucile, laughingly.
"Well, you would make a judge, and that, at least, is spoken in sober earnest. I am certainly sober, whether I meet the approval of Miss Malone in other respects or not, modesty alone deters me from saying," answered Clement, with a knowing smile at Lucile.
"You do not meet my approval," said Lucile, moving away from Mr. St. John.
"If you are not fire and tow for a half grown girl, I am mistaken," continued Clement, tantalizingly.
"I am not overgrown," she retorted, "that is some consolation." At this witty sally, the laugh is at Clement's expense.
Looking down at his large, knotty hands with a questionable smile, he said, "You are more than half right. I could take a slice or two from these hands and then have enough left for every practical purpose. "If your right hand offend you, why cut some of it off." As he said this he held up his hands, laughing as he put them together to show that one was much larger than the other.
"A hand to wield the pen or the sword with equal dexterity," remarked Regenia, sympathetically. She was unused to Clement and Lucile's badinage.
"Thank you. And although I do not appear in the ranks of these play soldiers, if Miss Underwood ever needs the services of a real knight she will find me at this address," he said, passing her his card, with a stage bow.
Regenia, discerning the mischievous twinkle in Clement's eye, accepted the card with the same theatrical dignity with which it was presented, little dreaming that the time would come when the playful promise would be redeemed.
Lucile smiled, but in her heart she wondered if Regenia knew that Clement would be as good as his word if any exigency ever put it to the test.
"Do you mean it?" asked Lotus. "If you do then I have nothing more to say."
Clement recognized the words he had used on the way to the park, and burst into a hearty laugh. The girls exchanged significant glances.
"Mr. St. John and I have a mutual sorrow, the memory of which has led us on a wild goose chase," Lotus remarked, by way of explanation.
"The game is at bay," said Clement, gleefully.
"You shall know all about it one of these days," said Lotus, smiling at the girls' evident perplexity. "It is a secret that, like wine, will improve with age."
"Tell us before it is old enough to walk," said Lucile, sarcastically. "When it reaches the talking age, it may tell on you."
"Do you girls know that the drill is over?" asked Mrs. Levitt.
"No, we do not; and the gentlemen are no better informed than we are. Mr. St. John you should have told us that the end was approaching. You know how we hate not to be in at the death."
"You were talking so entertainingly that after a hasty glance at the field I decided that your conversation was more interesting than the antics of those sunshine soldier," said Clement with an apologizing smile at Lotus.
"Oh, thank you, if you really mean it," said Lucile laughing derisively.
"Half in jest, the other half in earnest. The jest for you, the sincerity for Miss Underwood," Clement replied, showing his teeth at Lucile, and bowing as gracefully as he could to Regenia.
"Listen!" said Mr. St. John, craning his neck toward the judges, who were announcing their decision.
"You ought to be there taking notes. You are a very satisfied new-gatherer, I think," remarked Lucile in a whisper.
"My paper is a weekly. I supposed you knew that," replied Clement.
"What has that to do with your neglecting to get all the facts concerning this affair?" she asked.
"Why write up matter that will be given in detail to-morrow. I can get my choice from the 'dailies.' When you go into the newspaper business you will learn a thing or two," he said, taking Lucile by the shoulders and turning her around.
"What is a flambeau drill?" asked Regenia.
"A flambeau drill is a flambeau – Come out tonight and see the Red Cross commandery," he said.
The announcement that the prizes would be awarded the victorious contestants from the balcony of the "White Elephant," immediately after the exhibition drill of the Flambeau Club occasioned Regenia's question.
Lotus and Clement escorted the ladies to their carriage. As the carriage threaded its way through the crowd along the drive to the exit, the two young men walked beside it as a kind of self-appointed body guard. As the carriage passed through the gate, Lotus tipped his chapeau and said, "Your presence at the flambeau drill will add much to its effectiveness, I assure you."
"Lucile Malone, who had arrive a few hours before the parade, had accepted Regenia's invitation to spend the conclave week at the "Elms."
The girls had been fast friends in their school days, before Lucile had gone to Minton to study stenography and typewriting. By a streak of good fortune, she had obtained a position in the office of the "Times" the very day her course was finished. Lucile was plain, but extremely clever; poor, but independent, she went to Minton against the advice of every one of her friends, Regenia excepted.
"What is the use," they had said, "for a colored girl to study stenography? No business man will employ her. Thousands of white girls, just as clever, and in many other ways more acceptable, fail to get positions. It is a wanton waste of time and money," they said, "for Lucile to take a course of that kind."
To all of these croakers, Lucile gave but one answer: "I'll be convinced when I fail." She did not fail; such pluck seldom does.
When Lucile went to the "Times" office, Clement St. John was one of the local editors on the paper. To him she was indebted for many delicate hints, which counted in her success against the odds to be surmounted.
He considered her his special charge, and while Lucile was not the kind of girl that needed any special protection, it pleased Clement to imagine that some one, at some time, would attempt to impose upon her, and in the event of such an occurrence he would take no uncertain defense.
Lucile's perception was not long in noting the well-meant solicitation exhibited by Mr. St. John; and, although at first she mentally resented it, she had not been many weeks in the office of the "Times" before she began to rely upon Clement's guardianship and secretly take comfort in it. He assumed the role of protector because he thought Lucile a brave girl trying to make her way against untold difficulties. He had seen much of the sin and crime that dogged the steps of innocent womanhood. He opined that if these temptations were strong against womanhood in general; they were herculean when that womanhood had a dark complexion. He believed Lucile Malone proof against every temptation that might assail her; and, believing this, it would have been dangerous for any man to dally with her womanhood.
On her way from the office to her home, on dark winter nights, Clement either escorted her or kept near enough to brain any "masher" that made himself obnoxious. It was this appearance of espionage which Lucile at first resented. But when she learned that not fear that she would do wrong, but fear that she would be wronged, prompted his actions, the feeling of resentment gave way to one of gratitude. Gratitude ripened into esteem, esteem grew into love.
As they drove along, Regenia remarked mischievously, "I can understand now why your work is so lovely."
Lucile, coloring slightly, asked: "What has been the means of your recent discovery?"
"Mr. St. John is a very pleasant office boy," said Regenia.
"He is not in our office," protested Lucile. "He is awfully selfish. Do you know that sometimes I don't see that man one day in ten?"
"I suspect the knowledge that he is lingering near at night makes your work so 'awfully lovely,' as you always write me," added Regenia with provoking merriment.
"Well, he is kind," said Lucile, earnestly, wondering if Regenia did know that Clement lingered around. "At first I did not like him. His looks are against him, you know; but he has such a delicate sense of what one needs to know, and such a sweet little way of making you believe you do know it, when, in fact, he is telling you all the time, that—that—" coloring violently, "he is real interesting after all," she blurted out.
Regenia had found out more than she suspected; Lucile had disclosed more than she intended.
"Never mind his looks," said Mrs. Levitt, filing the awkward pause. "It is not the looks but the heart that makes the man."
"My dear, wise mamma!" said Regenia. "You always say the right thing. As far as his looks are concerned, I think he is handsome."
"Don't mention it," said Lucile, "He is the very paragon of ugliness. Do not praise Mr. St. John to please me. You can hardly say worse things about his looks than he says himself."
"He don't mean it, my dear. He is well looking enough, and you can depend upon his having sufficient conceit to think so. Men are seldom wanting in conceit. Disparaging reference to one's appearance as often arises from self-love as self-abasement," said Mrs. Levitt, wisely.
"You are always right, dear Mrs. Levitt, replied Lucile. "I have frequently suspected when Mr. St. John was descanting about his looks in his heart he believed himself not so bad as he delights to make others think he is."
"A glance into his secret soul, some fine Sunday morning, when in his best clothing, he gives himself the parting touch before his mirror, would be the only way to ascertain his real opinion of his looks," said Mrs. Levitt, with a satisfied smile.
Regenia put great store in Mrs. Levitt's common sense. Mrs. Levitt was about as well satisfied that Regenia was not far wrong in her opinion of her foster mother as Regenia was herself.
The carriage stopped at the "Elms" just as the street car, on the steps of which, Clement St. John stood smoking, passed. "Talk about the angels and you hear the rustle of their wings," said Lucile. "If you are looking for Mr. St. John," she continued, "he is standing on the steps."
"I am not looking for anyone," answered Regenia, blushing, as if she had been caught in the unmaidenly act of thinking of Lotus Stone.
"He has the advantage of being handsome," said Lucile, as she alighted from the carriage.
"Who are you talking of, pray? You grow more provoking every hour," said Regenia, with well feigned ignorance.
"'The pleasure of your company at the flambeau drill will add much to its effectiveness,'" said Lucile, imitating Lotus Stone.
The girls both laughed, and arm-in-arm they tripped gently up the walk to the house.