Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $9.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Woman in Ambush
    Woman in Ambush
    Woman in Ambush
    Ebook349 pages5 hours

    Woman in Ambush

    By Rex Beach

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Woman in Ambush by Rex Beach is the tale of vagabond Dick Banning who tries to make a life for himself becoming a gambler and joining a circus. You will love this strange and mysterious adventure tale about a lonely young man trying to make it out on his own.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigiCat
    Release dateNov 22, 2022
    ISBN8596547407720
    Woman in Ambush
    Author

    Rex Beach

    Rex Beach (1877–1949) was an American writer who was born in Michigan but raised in Florida. He attended multiple schools including Rollins College, Florida and the Chicago College of Law. He also spent five years in Alaska prospecting as part of the Klondike Goldrush. When he was unable to strike it rich, Beach turned to creative writing. In 1905, he published a collection of short stories called Pardners, followed by the novel The Spoilers (1906). Many of his titles have been adapted into feature films including The Goose Woman and The Silver Horde.

    Read more from Rex Beach

    Related to Woman in Ambush

    Related ebooks

    Classics For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Speedboat

      Mar 24, 2022

      Nobody died that year. Nobody prospered. There were no births or marriages. Seventeen reverent satires were written – disrupting a cliché and, presumably, creating a genre. That was a dream, of course, but many of the most important things, I fi nd,

      14 min read

    • Article

      Two-Stroke Toilets: The trouble with time travel.

      May 8, 2014

      What’s this?” I said, looking down at the change the old woman had put down on the counter between us. There were bills of the wrong size and color, clunky-seeming coins that were too big and too dull. I stirred a finger in the little pile. She glanc

      31 min read

    • Article

      We All Live in Uncertain

      Jul 30, 2020

      “Think of Caddo as a maze of lakes within lakes,” says John Winn, proprietor of Caddo Outback Tours, as the two of us settle into a small Go-Devil boat roped to a dock in Uncertain, on the border of northern Louisiana. For two decades, Winn has given

      6 min read

    • Article

      Michael Caine

      Nov 28, 2024

      Michael Caine
      7 min read

    • Article

      THE DUKE OF Edinbrough Hotel

      Nov 13, 2019

      THE DUKE OF Edinbrough Hotel
      6 min read

    • Article

      Following A Dream

      Sep 12, 2019

      THE OCEAN VOYAGER AND ME Di Beach Published by Amazon, 2014, £13.74 (paperback) and £5.63 (Kindle) Di Beach, 20, was living in Kampala in the 1960s with her architect husband, Rod Pickering, and their baby daughter, Jojo. One Saturday they were forag

      4 min read

    • Article

      “I Indulged In Forgiveness”

      Oct 6, 2019

      “I Indulged In Forgiveness”
      7 min read

    • Article

      Michael Caine My Hollywood Story

      Nov 28, 2024

      Michael Caine My Hollywood Story
      6 min read

    • Article

      Home Truths

      Aug 2, 2024

      Home Truths
      3 min read

    • Article

      “I Indulged In Forgiveness”

      Oct 9, 2019

      “I Indulged In Forgiveness”
      7 min read

    • Article

      I Met Myself Coming Back

      Oct 6, 2022

      I Met Myself Coming Back
      6 min read

    • Article

      Quotients

      May 7, 2020

      Quotients
      8 min read

    • Article

      “Really?”

      Jun 2, 2022

      “Really?”
      6 min read

    • Article

      Ineffectual Tribute to Len

      Mar 15, 2019

      After graduate school I hung around another year and drove a cab for Iowa City Yellow Cab. The cab was a boat, a Chevrolet Caprice wagon. I could have put a mattress in the back and lived in it. I didn’t hate the job. I’d sit in the Kroger parking lo

      24 min read

    • Article

      The Lion’s Share

      May 25, 2021

      The Lion’s Share
      4 min read

    • Article

      Books

      Feb 19, 2021

      At a local newspaper in South East London in 1957, journalist Jean Swinney receives a curious letter written to the editor. Gretchen Tilbury – abeautiful, well-to-do woman – claims her 10-year-old daughter is the product of a virgin birth. Gretchen h

      5 min read

    • Article

      Book Club

      Feb 2, 2022

      Book Club
      5 min read

    • Article

      Home Again

      Apr 26, 2019

      Home Again
      6 min read

    • Article

      Ladies’ Night

      Aug 15, 2023

      Ladies’ Night
      5 min read

    • Article

      A Love Supreme

      Oct 9, 2021

      A Love Supreme
      5 min read

    • Article

      Bless You Father

      Jul 7, 2022

      Bless You Father
      10 min read

    • Article

      Bless You Father

      Jul 7, 2022

      Bless You Father
      10 min read

    • Article

      American Picker

      Jan 11, 2024

      American Picker
      5 min read

    • Article

      Watch Your Step

      Nov 19, 2020

      Watch Your Step
      5 min read

    • Article

      A Haunting in Manhattan

      Oct 23, 2023

      A Haunting in Manhattan
      8 min read

    • Article

      SAM NEILL A proper JOB

      Mar 22, 2023

      SAM NEILL A proper JOB
      14 min read

    • Article

      One Coyote

      Sep 29, 2020

      One Coyote
      9 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Woman in Ambush

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Woman in Ambush - Rex Beach

      Chapter 1

      Table of Contents

      THE CELL was small, its walls were stained and grimy, its furnishings were scanty. There were two narrow, folding bunks, one above the other, a pitcher, washbowl, and slop bucket. A plank bench was so securely bolted to the wall that it was really a fixture. This being a county jail, its inmates were not in stripes and discipline was less rigid than in state penal institutions. Like most others of its kind, however, it was badly run, it needed modernizing, it had an unpleasant smell, and the food was terrible.

      Supper was over, cell doors had been bolted, and the inmates were free to occupy themselves as best they could. Most of them spent this interval of leisure loudly cursing the cook.

      Number 117 had two occupants. The older and the larger sat on the edge of the lower bunk, massaging his hands and flexing his fingers. They were soft, white, pliable hands, and he cared for them like a woman. He was a huge, shapeless person with drooping face, his clothes were baggy, his feet were large and flat, and his outturned toes pointed at ten minutes of two. They appeared to be boneless feet, for he walked as silently as a cat. In all his movements, ungainly but effortless, he reminded his youthful companion of an elephant. There was the same loose, rippling flow to his muscles; his body rocked and swayed.

      African hunters have marveled at the alertness of an elephant and at his ability, when suspicious or alarmed, to steal away through the densest jungle without cracking a twig or making the faintest sound. Jim Larkin, too, was wary, suspicious, and alert. He didn’t advertise his comings or his goings.

      Ronnie, his cellmate, told himself that in spite of these characteristics Jim’s presence here behind bars went to prove that even elephants can be taken off guard. In spite of their enforced companionship, the two had become friends. Neither, however, had told the other upon what charge he had been convicted or what chain of unfortunate events accounted for his presence here. They talked and joked with each other, but there had been no exchange of confidences. The very atmosphere of the place induced restraint.

      Having limbered up his fingers, Jim took a deck of cards from under his thin and lumpy pillow and began to shuffle expertly. He looked up with a smile, saying, Well, it won’t be long now.

      Not long, Ronnie agreed. I guess neither of us will sleep much tonight.

      Right you are, kid. The last night in a jug is like the first night; it never ends. Where will you be heading?

      Nowhere in particular. And you?

      Back to Dixie. Back to civilization, where two pairs isn’t a misdemeanor and it isn’t a felony to fill a straight.

      That means you will be heading back to the River, I presume.

      And no place else! It isn’t what it used to be; the railroads are spoiling it, but it’s still a—well, a country of its own. There’s nothing like it. Even the people are different; they have their way of living and it suits me fine.

      Have you got enough money to get there?

      Listen, kid, I’ve got all the money in the world. The speaker deftly riffled his cards in mid-air, and they flew together as if by some magic. I mean just that, Ronnie. The world’s full of money, and a smart guy can help himself to what he needs. That is, as long as he doesn’t take more than he’s entitled to. It’s like living in a bank. Yes, sir, when you learn that fact, you’ll be as contented as I am.

      Are you contented?

      Why not? I’ve been everywhere and seen everything, from a ringside seat. I don’t need much and I can turn my hand to anything. I love to live, just live. Something is always happening. Never the same thing twice.

      For a moment Ronnie watched the speaker manipulate his cards, then he said, You’re lucky. It isn’t everybody who can make a living out of those things.

      I know. Cards love some people just the way some people love cards. To me, they are the same as animals, and I can make ’em do tricks.

      Deftly Jim executed a one-handed cut, dealt alternately from the top and from the bottom, performed a neat false shuffle by pulling one half of the deck through the other.

      I could show you a lot if I had a work bench, but a real card player doesn’t need this stuff. It’s nice to know when your luck needs a little boosting. You’d make a card player, Ronnie.

      Think so?

      I’ve watched you. I can tell. Jim shook his oversized head regretfully. It’s a shame.

      What is?

      To find a promising lad like you scratching his behind in a squirrel cage. You’re tossing your chances away.

      There was an obvious retort, but Ronnie made none.

      I’ve never asked you what you did—don’t tell me. I like a guy who keeps his lip closed. What’s more, you haven’t told me how smart you are and how dumb the cops are. That’s a sign of intelligence. Maybe you have realized that they must have something on us or we wouldn’t be here. As Solomon said, the fear of the Law is the beginning of Knowledge.

      I know they are smarter than I am. So what?

      The Lark again shuffled and cut before resuming, with some reluctance. The trouble is, once a young fellow finds his way into a place like this, nine times out of ten he finds his way back. I’m not a soul saver, I don’t preach, but you’re headed the wrong way, kid. Why not change your direction and make a man of yourself? I could show you how. Did you ever have a pal, a real buddy?

      No, Jim, not even a real friend.

      It’s pretty swell to have a guy you can talk to when you feel like it or say nothing all day and know that he understands. A guy you like to be with. I had one, but he got greedy and helped himself to more than he needed. He liked the River, too. Those floating palaces all gilt and crystal, puffing and snorting and kicking up a storm. Planters in their fine clothes out having a good time and looking for a game. Their women, too, like pictures out of a book. And New Orleans—it’s the wealthiest port anywhere, kid, and the gayest. River packets and oceangoers along the levee front four deep. Their spars and smokestacks are like a forest. Mountains of freight. Darkies singing and romping. Every night in New Orleans is a carnival. Stage shows, operas, grand balls, and once a year the Mardi Gras. There’s something doing every hour. Why, Rome in all its glory was never like that.

      Have you been to Rome?

      Sure! I’ve been everywhere and back but there’s only one New Orleans.

      Now that Jim was on his favorite topic, the Mississippi and its way of life, there was no stopping him. His companion listened fascinated until the cell light suddenly went out.

      As Ronnie climbed into his bunk, Jim said, Yes, it’s great to have a pal. It’s fine to go places and see things and have fun—as long as you can share it with the right guy. Why not straighten up and deal yourself a new hand?

      After an instant, Ronnie said in a queer voice, Maybe I will. I’d like a change.

      Think it over. You can always find me at McPhee’s Palace. If I’m not in the city, they’ll tell you where I am. The Palace is a good place to gamble, but the eats aren’t much. Just ask for Jimmy the Lark. Good night, kid.

      Good night, Jim.

      Neither speaker dreamed that he had on that last night in the county jail made a lifelong pact.

      * * * * * * * * *

      The Banning home, or mansion as some people called it, was located on the finest residential street of the city. It was larger, handsomer, and better kept than its neighbors, but even aside from its size, its ample grounds and ornamental plantings, it carried itself with an air of distinction.

      If houses could speak—and who doubts that inanimate things possess some faculty of self-expression—this one would have answered the queries of inquisitive strangers by saying, loftily, Banning is the name, Dr. Chilton Banning.

      If this carried no obvious meaning, the house would doubtless have arched its fanlights and shrugged its porte-cochere, then murmured, Indeed! Not to know Dr. Chilton Banning is to argue one’s self unknown.

      It was precisely the kind of house to look down its nose when offended.

      On the other hand, if the passer-by recognized Dr. Banning as one of the country’s leading M.D.’s, an author of distinction, and chief of staff of the city’s largest hospital, then the residence would have said, warmly, "Yes, indeed! A brilliant and successful man. And such a practice. By appointment only. Three weeks in advance. Mrs. Banning was a lovely woman. She died ten years ago. It was she who drew my plans and made me what I am. In her time, we entertained a good deal. Now the poor Doctor is so busy that I see very little of him. In fact, I don’t see much of Dick, either. Have you heard about Dick? Then let me tell you."

      The Banning mansion had ample reason to brag about the Doctor’s only son, for Dick, too, was a celebrity in his way. He had inherited his father’s rich talents and something more, as proved by the award of a college degree at sixteen. Moreover, he had graduated with honors. Dick had been an infant prodigy and an object of wonder to his earliest teachers. As he grew up, the speed, the effortless ease with which he had raced through grade and prep school had led the city’s newspapers to give him considerable publicity.

      Friends of the family who thought any kid must be abnormal if he could extract a cube root before he could pull his own milk teeth urged Dr. Banning to hold the boy back. Top-heavy juveniles were unhealthy freaks, they warned. But Dick could not be held back. Nor did the Doctor try. Proud of his son’s precocity, he actually pushed him forward by encouraging him in his work and providing tutors during the summer vacations. It was the Doctor’s belief that our educational system was archaic and that any normal child, if properly taught, could acquire a college education at a saving of anywhere from four to six years. Using his own son as an example, he had written a paper on the subject.

      Obviously a parent as busy as Dr. Banning could not see much of a son as preoccupied as Dick was. In truth, neither had ever cared to see a great deal of the other, for always there had been something between them which grated uncomfortably. It was like some invisible abrasive, too finely ground to be detected except under the stress of wear and tear.

      Actually they had seen nothing whatever of each other during the past four weeks. Dick had been away from home visiting a friend whose parents owned a summer camp in the North woods.

      Dr. Banning rose early, for it was in the morning hours that he performed his surgery. It was his custom to come downstairs while the hall clock was striking seven and Mrs. Gibbs, his housekeeper, knew better than to delay his breakfast.

      This morning, as he seated himself opposite her, he announced,

      Dick should be home today and—

      Oh! Then you’ve heard from him. Mrs. Gibbs was a wholesome, competent woman who had been a sort of second mother to the boy and who felt privileged to interrupt even the head of the household.

      Please tell him I wish to see him. Ask him to stay here until I come in.

      Why, of course. But I’m sure he’ll be as eager to see you as you are to see him—

      I’m not so sure, the father said shortly. I’m not sure of anything about him lately. He’s been acting queerly and it worries me.

      You don’t mean he’s sick? Mrs. Gibbs inquired anxiously. Goodness, people are always telling me that boys like him, who are too smart for their age, never grow up into healthy, normal persons.

      He’s not sick. As a matter of fact, he’s an unusually healthy and vigorous young animal.

      I’m glad to hear that.

      The idea that bright children become-dull or their brains cease to develop is all bosh. It’s as ridiculous as the assumption that only the stupid survive. Frankly, it’s a pity that so many of them do, but nature’s ideal is a sound mind in a sound body.

      That’s Dick, all over! And I take some credit to myself. Mrs. Gibbs nodded with satisfaction.

      I never considered him a prodigy, a child wonder. He’s merely what other boys of his age should be and could be if—

      Mrs. Gibbs again interrupted, "Now, Doctor, you know as well as I do that no boy in this city ever went through school the way he did. Or college either. He’s a genius and everybody knows it except you. Why, I was telling our new minister how he graduated cum—something or other and—"

      "Cum laude."

      —and he would have gone to Oxford, England, last year only they said he was too smart already so he had to start in here on a new course studying a lot of foolish things just to mark time.

      With a smile, Dr. Banning explained. What happened was this. They wrote me that a sixteen-year-old American boy would probably find it difficult to get along happily with English boys so much older than he and it was their suggestion that a year’s delay would make it easier for him to adjust himself. Accordingly, he took an extra year’s work in languages, literature, the drama, etc. Dick is too young to choose a profession or to decide much of anything for himself, so I must decide for him. A few years of postgraduate work abroad will cure that and send him off to a flying start. That’s one matter I want to discuss with him.

      The Doctor was opening his eggs, something he insisted upon doing himself inasmuch as a fragment of shell between his teeth was enough to spoil an entire day. He executed the task with delicacy and precision. Everything he did was like that, as if there were a fee attached. Carving a turkey, for instance. It was a major operation, and he performed it standing up. Dick, who abhorred surgery, could almost see his father in mask and gown and rubber gloves and he looked on with horrified fascination while the carving knife, sterilized no doubt, unerringly severed tendons and opened joints. Dick sometimes pondered on the thought that the bird, not fully anesthetized, might twitch and moan. When the waitress pushed the wheeled serving table out into the butler’s pantry, he fancied it was for the purpose of counting sponges.

      Another thing I want to discover, the Doctor stated, is where he spends his evenings. He used to study, now he dresses up and saunters out as if he owned the town.

      But, Doctor, he can’t work all the time! He’s a big boy. He has friends—

      What kind of friends? Who are they? Young people of his own age or—women? Bad women?

      Doctor! The kindly housekeeper was aghast. Dick isn’t that kind of a boy, and I guess I should know even better than you. Why, that’s—wicked.

      Perhaps it is. Nevertheless it’s time that young gentleman and I had a talk. Tell him, if you please, that I will be home late but shall expect to see him.

      The speaker dropped his napkin and rose, for his carriage had driven into the porte-cochere.

      Chapter 2

      Table of Contents

      DICK BANNING returned home that afternoon by way of the alley. He came in through the back door of the stable and was greeted by low whinnies from his father’s team of bays and from his own saddle horse. He spoke to the animals, stroked and caressed them, and laid his cheek against their silken muzzles. The coachman, he knew, was asleep upstairs.

      Dick was a tall, pleasant-faced lad who looked several years older than his age. He had a disarming smile, there was a stubborn wave to his hair, his gray eyes were wide-set and intelligent, but there was nothing about him to challenge attention or to suggest the unusual.

      A grape arbor, heavy with foliage, led from the stable and carriage house to the brick terrace at the rear of the residence. Dick passed through it. On one side of this arbor was a garden of old-fashioned flowers; on the other, a grass tennis court, croquet ground, and archery range. These spacious but secluded premises had been his playground and his mother’s favorite loitering place. In his mind’s eye he could see her now among her roses and columbines, her snapdragons and hollyhocks—a gentle, gracious, fragile creature, as miraculous in her way as the loveliest blooms in this smiling garden. Thank Heaven, Dick thought, it had been kept exactly as she left it.

      Entering the house, the boy went quickly to his room, turned on the water in the bathtub, and shed his clothes. Not long after, Mrs. Gibbs knocked on the bathroom door and inquired,

      Can I come in?

      Why, certainly not, he said with a laugh. Aren’t you ever going to grow up, Mother Gibbs? Or let me do so?

      This growing up! The housekeeper spoke scornfully. To me you’re still a little boy and little boys never scrub between their shoulders.

      I promise! How did you know I was here?

      I heard the water running. I can always tell when you’re home. Did you have a good time?

      Marvelous.

      Hunh! The idea of going off to camp for a whole month without a word of warning.

      Didn’t you get my note?

      Yes. But you were gone by that time. You didn’t leave a word for your father. Was that nice? Was that considerate? No, I’m ashamed of you, Dick.

      Hurrah! Dick exclaimed. I’ve always been such a model of infantile propriety, such an object lesson in perfect decorum that it’s nice to be scolded. Maturity is sneaking up on me.

      Well, the Doctor didn’t like it. He wants to talk to you when he comes in and don’t blame him if he’s severe. You’re a bad boy to worry us so.

      Gibbsy! A guest’s first obligation is to his host. Mine requested the pleasure of my company, then and there. To make quick decisions and act upon them is a sign of character.

      That’s all very well, but you could have dropped me or him a line later on.

      Written on what? A piece of birch bark? With a porcupine quill dipped in my own blood? Woman, have you ever been out in the wilderness armed only with your two bare hands? Out in the Great Silence where the only sound by day is the mournful sighing of the wind in the lofty treetops and the dreadful stillness of night is broken only by the howling of hungry wolves? Out where stealthy danger lurks and death lies in ambush? That’s real suburban life.

      The bathroom door opened and Dick emerged in robe and slippers. He was grinning and gave Mrs. Gibbs a bear hug, a hearty kiss, and then shook her playfully.

      Gibbsy-Wibbsy! It’s nice to be home again and mothered by you even if I have to fight for the privilege of scrubbing my own sacred person. Now scoot! I’m not even going to let you select my tie. See you at dinner.

      That evening, Dick dined alone as he often did. He was reading in the library when his father came home. The boy arose and the two greeted each other with restraint. Dr. Banning always showed more reserve with his son than with his patients and Dick had never been demonstrative.

      Have a busy time at camp? the father asked.

      Very.

      You left rather hurriedly, didn’t you?

      Yes, sir, the invitation was unexpected. You were away at that medical convention. I didn’t think you’d mind. The Doctor seated himself at his flat-topped desk before saying, I’m getting accustomed to surprises from you. This was only one of many.

      I’m sorry if I caused you any uneasiness but you’re so busy—

      Uneasiness isn’t the word, said the older man. Amazement would be better. I can’t forget how young you are.

      With a faint smile, the boy said, You’ve often told people I was born at the age of sixteen. That would make me thirty-three. . . . Gibbsy says you want to see me?

      Yes. I knew you’d be out today.

      Out?

      You must have realized that I’d learn where you were. There was a pause, and the Doctor went on, A son of mine in jail! A boy of your standing, a boy with your advantages! It floored me.

      With a suggestion of resentment in his voice, Dick said, If you felt it so keenly, may I ask why you allowed me to remain there?

      Sharply his father answered, Because I hoped it would be a lesson to you.

      When I came home from college last spring, I told you I was sick of lessons.

      And I suggested that you ease up, play, enjoy yourself for a while. I never dreamed you would turn into a rowdy—a hoodlum—and start smashing greenhouse roofs. That was an act of pure vandalism and—

      Pardon me, sir, I considered it an act of retribution. I was tempted to take the law into my own hands and I couldn’t resist doing so. You have no idea what a satisfaction it was to meet temptation and yield. It was a brand new experience and it went to my head. It was my first brainstorm and I enjoyed it.

      May I ask what brought on this—this emotional typhoon? the Doctor asked curiously.

      I bought some roses for a young woman and—

      What young woman?

      What’s the difference? Anyhow the florist overcharged me. I thought the box felt light and I opened it. I should have known that he’s a notorious old bandit. He was very insulting but unfortunately he was too old to lay hands upon.

      A boy of your age has no business buying roses for young widows.

      Indeed? Anyway, that man had no business calling me names and threatening to have me arrested. For that matter I don’t see that you have any business asking who I give flowers to. Well, I was pretty mad. That was nice, too, and convinced me that I’m not altogether abnormal and that I have split the seams of my velvet Fauntleroy suit. In the street I saw several bricks. I collected them into a pile. It made me madder when a stranger asked if I wasn’t rather old to play with blocks. He was in plainclothes and I didn’t dream he was an officer. When I began to heave those bricks, he tackled me and we had quite a tussle. I got hold of myself on the way to the station house and tried to explain that I was merely a thin-blooded intellectual who had been seized for the first time by a robust impulse but the fellow’s nose hurt him and he told me to shut up or else. And the magistrate later on was incapable of understanding the psychology of a juvenile delinquent.

      Don’t strain yourself to be facetious, the father said sourly.

      I didn’t feel facetious, at the time. I was pretty much ashamed of myself so, out of regard for you, I gave my name as Ronald Le Grand. Under that alias I did thirty days in the workhouse.

      And a hard time I had keeping it out of the papers. I’m astonished at your consideration. Dr. Banning spoke with some sarcasm.

      No more astonished than I am at your allowing me to blister these white hands, the youth retorted. That jail smelled pretty bad.

      What a story! the father exclaimed. It would have preceded you to Oxford, ruined your career. Do you wonder that I did my utmost to smother it?

      I’m not going to Oxford, Dick said.

      Dr. Banning was startled. What’s this? I don’t know what’s the matter with you lately.

      It’s something pills won’t cure.

      Certainly it isn’t overwork. No normal, healthy boy can really overwork. However, he can overindulge himself. Now that I know the rough gang you are running around with, I’m not going to stand by and see your morals corrupted. The boy looked a bit bewildered at this. I don’t know just what you mean, sir, but I feel competent to select my own friends.

      Indeed!

      You see, I’m not interested in boys of my own age or in giggling girls, either. If I prefer older companions, it’s because we have something in common.

      Exactly! Don’t let’s go into that. I can’t permit you to run wild. Aside from your own good, I have myself to think of.

      To this Dick nodded. I understand perfectly. You wish to point with pride and you can’t bear to view with alarm. You have always made me feel like one of your specimens—a sort of two-headed boy that you keep in a jar. Well, I’m sick of being different from other people. I’m sick of all the things I have been doing. And Oxford—I just can’t bear the thought of it.

      Why?

      Maybe my mental mechanism has gone out of order like a watch with a weak spring or a broken jewel. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for study; in fact, the idea nauseates me and if I were to go to Oxford I’d be no credit to you or to myself. The whole thing has lost its glitter; I’m afraid the bookworm has turned.

      And I don’t like the direction you have taken. You must want to do something. Precisely what is it that you have in mind?

      Faced with this query, the boy floundered for the very good reason that he himself didn’t know exactly what desires had taken possession of him. All he felt sure about was that he had rebelled against academic bondage and craved freedom to explore a new and exciting world. He very definitely desired the freedom to explore it in his own way. Unfamiliar yearnings plagued him, but in spite of his facility for self-expression he couldn’t put them into words. Actually they had not yet taken full shape. It was like the peculiar urge that drives an explorer to push into unknown country, making the desire to go, to look, to see into more than mere curiosity—a compulsion.

      Dr. Banning listened for a while before saying finally, All right. If you think you must see the world immediately, so be it. I think it’s unwise, foolish, but I will not stand in your way. I’ll attempt to find a suitable traveling companion, some older man who can look after you and serve as a tutor. There must be young professors who—

      I wouldn’t care for that, sir. Dick spoke with decision. I wish to go alone and select my own traveling companions, if any. What’s more, I don’t want or need any further tutoring.

      I cannot permit you to go globe-trotting alone, the father said firmly. The very idea is—well, shocking. No! Impossible!

      Then I’m afraid the well-known irresistible force has met the immovable body. The truth is, sir, I feel that I must do what I want to do instead of what I’m told to do.

      In this attitude of mind the father recognized not the vague yearnings, the acute dissatisfactions of youth, but dangerous and unruly juvenile

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1