--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Evans, John Henry collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 16 number: 1 published: 1912-11 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'John Henry Evans, "The Open Road. XIV," *Improvement Era* 16, no. 1 (November 1912): 34–43.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1601unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1601unse start_page: 34 end_page: 43 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1912-11) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1601unse publication_year: 1912 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1912, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Open Road. XIV he Open Road BY JOHN HENRY EVANS, OF THE LATTER-DAY SAINTS' UNIVERSITY Stage XIV — In Which the Story Moved Forward Three Years The low, frame cottage in which the Dudleys lived squatted far back in the spacious lot. It faced the east. The front porch, covering the whole extent of the house and running up to join the sloping roof, was supported by four huge pillars, made of cemented cobblestones, which looked for all the world like four great giants holding up a canopy of mosquito bar. A little way out from the porch stood two immense clusters of lilac bushes, literally abloom with the sweet-scented purple flower, between which, and also between two hedges of rose plants, ran a cobblestone walk to the gate some rods away. All around in the lot were trees — mainly fruit trees — whose young leaves you could almost see shooting out joyously to meet the spring warmth. A peculiar charm of beauty and quiet lay upon everything this bright, fresh morning, which made you think of Tennyson's words about the young man's fancy. But maybe that was because you felt, as you looked at the cottage with its pleasant setting, that perhaps there was in the place just then a young man with a fancy. Anyway, as if to meet your feeling, there presently issued forth from the front door that identical young man radiant as the early spring morning he was coming out to meet. He was not handsome ; at all events he would not do as the hero of a romance. His figure was not quite tall enough, he was not sufficiently slender, and his ears were a trifle too large. But he was a substantial youth, one whom you would instinctively trust if you had a bit of work to do and a responsibility to give. He stood on the porch looking out into the morning, for a moment ; the sun beamed upon his face ; then he passed, whistling, over the cobblestone path. At the gate he lifted his hat to a passing lady, and exposed to view a square head. "Brocketts !" you say. And so it is. For there is no mistaking that square head, once you have marked it. He walked up the street in such a way as showed plainly enough that he knew where he was going — which is a good thing in any man, young or old. At length he turned into a livery stable. In the course of a few minutes he came out in a brandnew top buggy, drawn by two of the yellowest horses you ever T HE OPEN ROAD 35 saw, with shiny white manes and curving necks. These all swept gloriously down the street in the direction from which the young pedestrian had come, every passer-by gazing in admiration as they sped. But he did not stop at the cottage with the lilac bushes and the cobblestone pillars. He spun past it, only inclining his face slightly to see if anyone was on the porch. He turned to the east, then to the south, and then to the east again. Presently he drew rein before a two-story adobe ^house that stood suspiciously close to the fence, that had a brief cobblestone walk between the house and the fence, and that had in front of it a gate which clicked atrociously. It looked very much like Bishop Ward's. It was Bishop Ward's! And if there wasn't Bessie Ward standing on the porch ! There is not the least doubt that she could be put into a book ! She would do credit to the finest romance ever conceived. That slight, graceful figure, in white waist and blue skirt, the abundant brown hair and those wonderful dark eyes — these were more bewitching than anything you find in any book. At least Brockets thought so as he looked at her there on the porch, a light coat thrown over the left arm, a lunch basket in the right hand, and a bunch of lilacs on her breast. It is small wonder that he felt like rushing to the porch and clasping her in his arms. But he courageously restrained himself. "Oh, Brocketts !" she exclaimed, still standing there, "what beautiful horses ! And she made a hundred long syllables of this much-abused adjective. "Where did you get them?" "At the stable," Brocketts answered. "I didn't know there were such beautiful horses in the world." This time "beautiful" was given only some fifty syllables. "It's a new team," Brocketts explained. "They haven't had them at the stable very long. They are beauties, though !" "I should think they are !" Having thus paid her compliments to the horses, who meantime were curving their necks prodigiously and stamping eagerly as if to make the compliment as well-deserved as they could, Bessie descended from the porch, went through that maddening gate, and was helped into the buggy. But she would not let Brocketts move an inch on his way till she had divided the bunch of lilacs and pinned one-half of it to his coat lapel, reserving the other half to herself. And then off they wheeled giddily through the streets. "City Creek Canyon will be just lovely today!" Bessie cried, clinging to Brocketts with one hand and holding her hat with the other. "How far shall we go?" "Oh, as far as you want to." 3b IMPROVEMENT ERA "I don't care to go very far. I'd rather drive up a few miles, and then come back to some cosy nook and gather flowers, wouldn't you?" "Yes, I believe I would." "Now, you wouldn't either, Brocketts. You're just saying that to please me !" "No, I'm not — honestly." "All right, then," she ended. In this light, airy vein they chatted till they almost reached the mouth of the canyon. Then Brocketts slowed up the horses. "There's Ensign peak!" he said,- superfluously. He pointed his whip towards the hill. Dudley would have said in answer to this apparent commonplace : "Why, yes, Brocketts ; it hasn't moved a bit! Now, I wonder!" But Bessie understood Brocketts. To her, his remark was not commonplace. "It's a long time, since we were up there, isn't it?" she replied. "Yes ; and a good- many things have happened since then. I've been up there several times since we were there. But I was always alone. That was after your father and I had that conversation. It was the nearest I could get to you." "What a dreadful thing that was, Brocketts !" she broke in. "But I'm glad now — aren't you ? We think all the more of each other, don't we ?" And she moved a tiny bit nearer to him, though before this you would have declared it to be quite impossible for her to do so. "Yes," he said simply to both questions. "There's nothing to come between us now, anyway," Bessie ventured. "But how did you come to join the Church, Brocketts?" "When your father told me, that night nearly three years ago, that I couldn't keep company with you because I wasn't a 'Mormon,' I made up my mind to examine 'Mormonism.' ': Brocketts didn't tell her of that conversation with Mr. Dargan on marriage, which really started him out on his investigation. "And so I got some books to read," he went on. Mr. Dargan helped me out there. I read the Book of Mormon. Then I read the Voice of Warning, and Orson Pratt's Works, and a good many other things. I went to meeting as often as I could, in the ward and at the Tabernacle. And then you know, Dudley used to preach to me in his letters like the deuce while he was on his mission, and in person after he came back. I had a good many conver7 sations with Mr. Dargan, too. My associations also, I suppose, had something to do with it. "While I read and talked about religion, I used to make notes of the particular things I was to question myself about to see if I believed them. I've got them all now — I'll show them T HE OPEN ROAD 37 to you some day, Bessie. The moral points I put first, and then the religious. Honesty, I remember, was the 'first. Do you believe in being honest? I asked myself. And of course I could truthfully answer yes. Then there was truthfulness, chastity, kindness, industry, and so on. In each case I could say yes. If 'Mormonism' teaches these things, I said to myself, I'm a 'Mormon !' "Then came the religious points. Already I believed in God, in Christ, and in the Holy Ghost. I believed in having faith, in repenting, and in the necessity of having the Holy Spirit to guide my thoughts. But I stumbled on baptism by immersion till I lost out in an argument with Dudley and Mr. Dargan. They both pitched into me one day in the store. After that I studied the subject of divine authority. It did not take me long to see that, and then I gave in." "How long ago was that ?" asked Bessie. "Nearly two years ago now." Bessie stared at him. "And you weren't baptized till nearly a year afterwards?" "Nine months after," he corrected. "I was afraid my friends would say I joined the Church so that I could go with you ! And so I held off, though I knew I shouldn't." "You didn't think / would say that, did you, even to myself?" Bessie put in. "No ; you knew me better than anybody else. I knew I could depend on your thinking the right way about me." She gave him a look of affectionate gratitude. They were now deep in the canyon. On each side the leaves were out farther than in the valley. The creek murmured pleasantly as it ran its sparkling way. "If I had all that to do over again," Brocketts added, "I believe I'd begin at the other end." He paused reflectively. "What do you mean, Brocketts?" "The other end of my studies of the Church." "Oh !" "I'd find out first whether I could believe in the First Vision of the Prophet Joseph and the visions concerning the Book of Mormon. The rest would be easy if I believed these." "Papa says," Bessie put in irrelevantly, "that you know more about the gospel and know it better than any other young man around here." Brocketts colored. "He's mighty proud of you, Brocketts — almost as proud, as I am." And she gave his arm a little squeeze. They were now by the natural bridge, a couple of giant boulders meeting over the stream. Not a great way above this Brocketts pointed out a spot on the opposite side of the creek which would make a good place to camp in when they returned, and 38 IMPROVEMENT ERA farther on a number of other pleasant nooks. The road from here had a good many hills and valleys in it. Moreover, it was rough and narrow. Bessie wondered what they would do if they should meet a wagon. But they did not. They talked mostly about the scenery they passed, the noise of- the water, and the bad roads. At last they turned back. They had gone up many miles, finding the road more and more awkward. It was nearly noon by this time. Arriving at one of the places which they had pointed out on their way up, Brocketts unhitched the horses, watered them and gave each of them a nose bag of oats. After luncheon, they wandered about among the hills for a time, and sat down by the creek. "I've got some good news for you, Bessie," Brocketts began. "I can't keep it any longer." "Oh, what is it?" "You remember my telling you once, before that night, that I had bought some lots?" Bessie remembered. "That was after I took Harper's place in the counting room. Well, I sold those lots, put some more money with the money I got for them, and bought some more." Bessie laughed. "Is that the good news, Brocketts ?" "No ; I'm leading up to it gradually, so as not to give you too much of a shock." "Oh !" she exclaimed apprehensively, "you haven't lost all your money?" "I said I had good news, dear." "Oh, yes — I forgot. I'm too curious." "Every cent I could scrape together," Brocketts continued, "I put in real estate. I bought a lot here and a lot there, till I had lots all over town. Then I sold them all for a big piece — several acres — southeast of town. I was sorry afterwards, because I just could not sell it or trade it off, and so I began to think it a bad bargain. But the other day" — Brocketts paused and looked at Bessie — "I sold it for twelve thousand dollars!" Bessie was incredulous. But she finally grasped the figures in all their bigness, though not till Brocketts had repeated them three times. "The boomers are coming to town," he explained. "And what are boomers?" she wanted to know. He told her. "They'll probably sell that land for twenty thousand dollars to eastern people. But twelve thousand dollars isn't a bad bargain. It's onlv a streak of good luck, though. It's a wonder I didn't lose it all. But land's always a good investment, anyway, only sometimes you have to wait so long." "And what are you going to do with all that money, Brocketts?" she queried. T HE OPEN ROAD 39 He took her hand for an answer, and turned about a certain ring, with a sparkling gem in it, on a certain one of her fingers. "What do you think of going to Germany on our wedding journey?" "Oh, wouldn't that be nice— to help you find your father and mother ? That's just the thing. Let's do it !" "We'll go, then, as soon as Mr. Bernstein gets well. I hate to leave him now that he's sick. Besides, I have a suspicion that the business is not getting on in the best way." "You ought to be managing the store, Brocketts," Bessie suggested. "I know you could do it." "That's because you've got too high an opinion of me," he returned. "Still I think I could do it, now. When Mr. Bernstein advanced me to head bookkeeper, when he took sick and put Shorthurst as manager, I was too inexperienced. But a year and a half of such work as I've had to do there has given me a chance to pick up a lot of pointers. For, you know, Shorthurst has put me now in this place, now in that, till one time and another I've been looking after every department in the store. Shorthurst isn't the man Mr. Bernstein is. He can't keep track of half as much. "Ormstead's after me all the time to go and manage his store. Yesterday he offered me a hundred and fifty dollars a month. But, of course, I couldn't think of going." "Would you go, Brocketts, if Mr. Bernstein was well ?" "I don't know. I like Mr. Bernstein. He's treated me as he would his own son, I think. Still fifty dollars a month is a good deal to throw away !" "Maybe if he knew you were offered that place, and if he were well, he'd do better by you," Bessie hinted. "Very likely. _ He did that twice, once when I told him, and another time of his own accord, when he heard that Nickerson Brothers wanted me. But we'll wait, Bessie, till Mr. Bernstein gets well enough to be around again. It won't be long now, I think. I was down there to see him last week, and Mrs. Bernstein said he was sitting up now, as you know, for an hour or two in the mornings." Another short ramble along the stream, and the beautiful tans were hitched up and driven to town, taking behind them two happier hearts, if possible, than they had brought into the canyon. Stage XV — Wherein Brocketts Takes Up Arms Against a Sea of Troubles. The members of the Wasatch Lyceum were gathering for one of their tri-weekly meetings in the little assembly room at the rear of the book store. It was Wednesday night, the week after the events recorded in the preceding chapter. 40 IMPROVEMENT ERA Something unusual had happened. That was clear from the number of small groups here and there in the room and the subdued murmur of conversation in each. Never before had this been known to occur. Brocketts was late — a thing unprecedented with him. Yet, although it was not his turn to preside, the meeting had not taken up. As soon as he entered, however, the groups broke up of their own accord, the members went to their places and our old friend, Dudley Brown, the president for the evening, took the chair. The preliminaries over, Brocketts was recognized by the president. "I move you, sir," he said, addressing the chair, "that we lay aside the regular order of business for tonight and take up a matter of a more pressing nature, as I think." Instantly there were forty seconds. The question was called for, put, and carried with a unanimous shout. Then followed a brief, almost painful, silence. Losing track of all formality, Dudley looked at Brocketts and said, "How does the situation stand now?" "Not much changed since this morning," Brocketts replied, amid a death-like stillness. "All we know is that Mr. Shorthurst has disappeared and that the business is in a very bad state. It isn't known yet whether Mr. Bernstein is bankrupt." A murmur rose on the air, mingled with low whispers, exclamations of surprise, and imprecations. "Well, what's become of him ?" some one asked. "Nobody knows," Brocketts answered, for all the questions seemed to be directed at him. "He's either committed suicide or skipped the country." "Did he take any money ?" some one else wanted to know. "Nobody knows that, either. A good deal of money has gone somewhere. That's certain." "The stock in the clothing department's lower than it has ever been since I first knew it," volunteered one of the men. "That's true of all departments," suggested Dudley. And this statement was immediately met by a murmur of approval. "And yet," another declared, "the stock in all departments a year ago was larger than it ever was under Mr. Bernstein." There was a general air of approval of this assertion also. "Have these goods been paid for, do you know?" some one asked. "What do the books show ?" The books showed nothing. Nobody could tell what had been paid for and what hadn't. The receipts were there, but the disbursements were not. That was why it could not be definitely ascertained whether or not the Bernstein establishment was bankrupt. Then somebody asked what was going to be done about it, to which question no one seemed to have an answer. Brocketts T HE OPEN ROAD 41 had in mind a remedy for the whole situation, but he hesitated to give it. At length, however, since everyone appeared to look to him, he ventured a statement, which he put forward, he said for their discussion. "Something must be done," he declared. "We're all agreed in that, I think. If something's not done and that quickly, too, why we shall most likely lose our places — every one of us. But that's not the worst. Mr. Bernstein will be ruined, and when he finds it out the shock will probably kill him. For these two reasons, then, something's got to be done." There appeared to be general satisfaction at this proposition. Confidence in Brocketts even increased, if that could well be, by his grasp of the situation, and his clear, logical way of. putting it. "But who's to do it?" he demanded, and answering his own query, he went on : "Mr. Bernstein can't — that's certain. He's been sick, as you know, for a year and a half now ; he won't be fit to cope with the situation till it's too late. Nothing can be clearer than that. Neither can this aid come from the outside — from those who don't know anything about the business of the firm. It'll have to come from us who are here !" He paused to see what the effect of this would be. It was apparently satisfactory, for he continued : "That help, as I look at it, must consist of two things : First, we must bind ourselves to see this thing through, whatever it costs. Mr. Bernstein's been a friend and helper to us all. He has never been a hard taskmaster. We have never been called on to do anything for him. Now's the time to be his friend. We must rally to his support. We've got to fight, if need be, to the last ditch. We have got to see it through. It may be that we shall have to work for a time for little or no pay. I don't know that we shall, I only state the possibility of it. But whatever it is, we'll have to stand together in this matter. "That's the first thing we've got to do. Another thing we ought to do is to choose somebody to call on Mrs. Bernstein to advise Her in this affair. This is a more delicate point. But it should be done, nevertheless. She's the only one that has a right to act in the situation, but' she won't know how matters stand with respect to the business. And so I suggest that we select some one who understands the matter to consult, or at least to offer to consult, with her. "This is what I think we ought to do." As may be supposed, this body of men did ample justice to this appeal of Brocketts' to their loyalty. They bound themselves enthusiastically and unanimously to stand by Mr. Bernstein even though they be required to go without their salary for a time. When it came to the second suggestion made by Brocketts, that 42 IMPROVEMENT ERA they choose one of their number to pay a visit to Mrs. Bernstein, there was a general shout of: "Brocketts Porter! Brocketts Porter!" And so it happened that Brocketts was delegated to see the proprietor's wife. Brocketts wasted no time in calling on Mrs. Bernstein. The meeting having adjourned early, he went immediately to his employer's residence. Mrs. Bernstein knew of the situation at the store from the morning papers. She was a brave little woman, inclined to take things philosophically. "Does Mr. Bernstein know about this?" was Brocketts' first question. "Dear me, no !" she answered. "It would kill him. That's one reason why he hasn't got along any better ; he's been afraid that things were not going on as thev should at the store. I'd rather everv cent was gone than tell him of this affair." Brocketts told her he was glad her husband did not know of it. He told her of the meeting that had just dismissed. She wanted to know how matters now stood at the store. On this point, too. he gave her what information he had. "Somebody's got to manage things," she said, when he had finished his explanation. "Now, my husband always spoke so highlv of your abilities, Brocketts, that T think you'd better take charge until Mr. Bernstein pets better. When he took sick he said that he wished vou were a little older and that he had given you 1 ^tter opportunities to learn the business, so that vou could take charge instead of Shorthurst. And the fact that the men at the store chose vou to come here shows they have the same confidence in you. So if you will undertake the responsibility, Brocketts, I'll be under deeo obligation to you, and so will my husband when he learns of it." Brocketts thanked her modestly for her confidence in him, and assured her that he would do his utmost to see that the business was saved. "T know you will. Brocketts," she said. "You may find it very hard. The business mav go down in spite of you, but I hope not, for Mr. Bernstein's sake." "I think vou ought to know what I intend to do, Mrs. Bernstein, so that vou can approve or disapprove it." That Brocketts alreadv had a plan need not be a surprise. He had, indeed, foreseen what the meeting would do and his own appointment to the management by Mrs. Bernstein. And his fertile intellect had been at work accordingly, planning how he would save the institution. Mrs. Bernstein consented to listen, though she disclaimed any T HE OPEN ROAD 43 ability to know whether it was good or not; she would leave the whole matter to him. "My plan," he said, "is briefly this : I propose, first, to find out exactly the financial state of the business. That will be comparatively easy. If, as I suspect, there is a large indebtedness with eastern houses for goods, then I will have to make an agreement with them — some sort of settlement to avoid their closing us out. After that there will be the matter of buying a fresh supply of goods without the money to pay for them. These two things will not be so easy." Mrs. Bernstein became frightened at the prospect. "It's too much for you, Brocketts ; maybe you'd better let everything go. Oh, dear me !" "You trust to me, Mrs. Bernstein; I'll bring things out all right. Don't you worry." He secured a statement from Mrs. Bernstein appointing him to the management of the establishment, with full authority to act as he saw best. This statement he read, next morning, to the assembled employes, who received it with applause. "I want you to stand behind me in all this," he said, earnestly. "It's a critical time. I don't know whether I can pull it through or not. I'll do my best." They cheered again and promised to stand with him loyally. The job was bigger than Brocketts had thought. The affairs of the firm were in a bad shape. Shorthurst had made a clean sweep of it, whether through lack of business management or through dishonesty, nobody could tell. Certain it was that the stock of goods in the store, in all departments, was exceedingly low. It became certain before long that the firm was owing large bills to several eastern houses; for' as soon as the eastern concerns learned what had happened, which they did in an incredibly short time, their agents came flocking to Bernstein's establishment. Brocketts had already discovered that the firm had nothing to its credit at the bank. But Brocketts did not lose heart on this account. "Look here," he said to the eastern drummers, "we're owing you thousands of dollars. You can close us out, of course, but that wouldn't pay your houses. There's only one way out of the difficulty, and that is to give us our own time with those accounts and then to trust us for a fresh supply of goods. We've got a big place with a big business. In time we'll pay you every cent we owe you. That's my proposition." "They might let you have time to pay those accounts in," the commercial travelers answered, "but to increase your account is out of the question. They'll never do that." "Well, will you state my proposition to them as I gave it to you ?"