The Treasure Seeker

The Treasure Seeker By Ezra J. Poulsen If Max Bowman had possessed, among his many estimable qualities, a disposition more favorable toward compromise, it would have been quite unnecessary to tell this story. But some- how in the concoction of his original talents an unusual strain of perverse self-esteem was permitted to creep in unawares. Even this was ordinarily made to function harmlessly, but in soine relationships — one in particular — it was a cause of injus- tice. During his entire life Max had been taught to foster the ideal that a young man should choose his life's work early, then apply the very limit of his strength to it until his name was se- curely written on the honor roll of achievement. So at twenty- three he was fairly plunging into his work at the office of Bob Mayo, the small city's leading architect; and during his limited number of spare moments, except when he was thinking of Mil- dred Lawrence, he habitually reeled bright pictures of his pro- fessional future before his mind. No one was more interested in his prospective success than his patient, devoted mother. It had been a rule with her from the beginning to encourage her boy in his ambitions. But ther~ were days — those days of toil and worry — when she justly felt that he could be less selfish and demanding about home. It was here that his one noticeable defective quality had reached al- most unbearable proportions. She often chided herself for her attitude. "All boys are thoughtless," she reasoned; but there was no use; the feeling would return, and sometimes it was manifested by a slight quiver of the sensitive chin, or by the appearance of a tear drop which nobody ever saw. Naturally the young man in question was not troubled by his shortcomings. He loved his mother, and took her for granted. To him she was the synonym of all physical comforts. Even the morning when he reprimanded her for not having his newest negligee shirt washed and ironed, he did not mean to be unrea- sonable. "I declare, mother," he cried peevishly; "you might have known I'd need it." The fragrance of fruit ripening in autumn sunshine, accompanied by the twitter of a blue bird, floated through the open door, and whispered a message of love and beauty, but he was not in the mood to respond.

THE TREASURE SEEKER 929 "Yes, son, I might have known it; I did know it, in fact. But there is such a thing as not being able to do everything, and I knew you could manage for another day." Mrs. Bowman spoke with a quiet dignity that was overwhelming, and Max felt de- cidedly uncomfortable, even after she had left the room. Nevertheless his feelings remained ruffled; and without being impressed by the pain in her voice, he stalked out into the balmy morning, and hastened off to the office. It was an unexpected stroke of good luck — Max believed in luck — that caused Mildred Lawrence to come along just in time to meet him at Pearson's corner. Instantly the lines of ill humor melted from his face, which brightened perceptibly, while his heart beat a glad melody in her honor. "Good morning, merry sunshine," he greeted gaily, as his practiced observation registered her lovely pink-frocked figure, crowned by a mass of golden hair and guided by a pair of witch- ing blue eyes. "Good morning," she responded sweetly, fluttering up to him with all the freshness and fragrance of a dew-laden flower. Unqualified admiration was written on every line of his hand- some young face, as they walked together; and he at once be- came studiously amiable. Heart and soul he was her lover, and being in her presence was his greatest joy. "I'm glad you happened along," he explained. "I was go- ing to call you up when I got a chance, but I was afraid that wouldn't be half soon enough." "Oh, was I to be so favored?" she answered tantalizingly. He laughed boyishly. "You were to be the victim. I wanted you to go with me to the pavilion tonight. Will you?" "Will I?" she mocked. "Let's see." Her silken lashes turned downward, and a wrinkle gathered on her forehead, in- dicating a momentary reflection. "I believe I will go with you." Her ruby lips displayed a delicious smile. All day over the drafting board Max found pleasure con- templating the big treasures the future was dangling before him. He was coolly confident that some day Mildred would be his, though she had never said so; and that success as an architect, with a large salary was but a matter of a short time. It all seemed so easy and so certain that he found himself wondering at other young men's lack of enthusiasm. Occasionally a thought of his mother flitted into his con- sciousness, and he experienced a slight pang of remorse at the remembrance of his thoughtless words to her. She had been unusually weary, perhaps not well. He was sure of that now, and formed a hasty resolution to apologize. Then his attention reverted back to his more pleasant speculations.

930 IMPROVEMENT ERA That night upon returning from work it was as he had feared; his mother was decidedly not well. At once he ex- pressed his regrets, and made several awkward efforts to be of use to her, but decided not to mention his remisses of the morning. "Mother, sit down and let me put this sofa pillow at your back.- He picked up the large brocaded pillow in question and started toward her little wicker rocking chair. "No, don't bother, son; I can't sit down now," she remon- strated weakly. "But take the children outside so it will be more quiet." "But, mother, it would—" "No, son, it wouldn't do now." Mrs. Bowman spoke quietly but firmly. Max felt nettled that his good intentions were not more ac- ceptable. Nevertheless he reluctantly went out with the chil- dren. "It's the way with mother," he soliloquized." She won't let a fellow do what's good for her." The line of reasoning that followed brought him rapidly to the satisfying conclusion that he was a rather model son. His selfish attitude amounted to an obstinate refusal to fairly recognize the conditions that made up her daily life. Presently his thoughts turned back to his personal aims; and as he traced the afterglow of the sunset on the western skyline, he firmly resolved to let nothing swerve him for a moment from the path that led to the realization of his desires. Youth and beauty were much in evidence at the pavilion when Max and Mildred arrived there. They in turn lost no time in identifying themselves with the happy revelry. The glare of the white lights, the buzz of many voices, and the sound of many feet, together with the witchery of a beautiful "Old Ohio," waltz and the mild scent of Mildred's presence was a combination that appealed mightily to Max Bowman's love for life. He was charmed by the rythm and music of it all. His stern philosophy of much work and little play, only intensified the pleasure of his relaxation. "This is like an hour in Paradise," he murmured in Mil- dred's ear, as they moved with the circle of dancers. She tossed her head prettily, and laughed with apprecia- tion. "Why!" she exclaimed; "Don't you know, Max, you're getting to be horribly poetic." "Am I?" he questioned eagerly; "By Jove, you'd make any- one poetic." "Oh, well, it's better than too much fame and fortune stuff," she said heartily. "It's good to live sometimes in the jolly pres- ent." She turned to greet a friend that glided by. As the music stopped the buzz of voices arose, and the shuf-

THE TREASURE SEEKER 931 fling tread of feet became absorbed in the chatter. In a few moments the crowd was broken into a miscellaneous arrange- ment of small sociological knots — just the kind so adaptable to spirited conversation. "Say, Max, old boy, chances look mighty favorable for a jolly good time. What d'you say?" The speaker was Will Har- mon— fat, good-natured Will, another of Mayo's employees — whose love for pleasure quite completely overbalanced his in- terest in work. "Bill, you're right for once," agreed Max, leading Mil- dred into the circle of which Will was a part. "Listen," cried Will in feigned astonishment. "He talks as if I wasn't always right." "How ridiculous," exclaimed Maggie Anderson ironically, "for any one to think that Billie could make a mistake." "Oh, I'm gettin' it in the neck," purred the affable Bill, putting his hand over his mouth, "Guess I'll keep still." The group laughed at his expense and the chatter went on. "Do you folks know what Bill did today at work," asked Max with a masterful air. None of them did, but they were eager to find out. "Well, he climbed up on his drafting stool and started to sing, 'When You and I were Young, Maggie.' " "Oh, the idea!" Maggie Anderson colored, and looked re- sentful at Will who grinned back gleefully." By golly, I had to do something to relieve the high tension of Max's castles in Spain," he retorted. Max's enjoyment was interrupted by a firm hand on his arm, and a voice near his ear whispering seriously, "Your mother's ill, and I think you'd better go home to see her. He turned quickly to meet the level gaze of John Watson, his neigh- bor. Momentarily he was struck by a sense of dull incompre- hensibility. He cast a half pained, half annoyed glance around his circle of friends, and his eyes rested on Mildred. "Excuse me; I'll be back in a little while," he apologized, then followed the man from the room. Out in the silent monontony of the night he learned from John Watson that his mother's illness was far more serious than he had supposed, and this understanding started his anxiety at the task of tearing away the bulwark of his unimaginative habit of taking her existence for granted. Wildly he began to wonder what he would do without her. And it dawned on him with crushing force that the thread of life is a slender one, so slender that it was quite possible for her to leave him. A veri- table moving picture was passing through his aroused mind, revealing the many things he might have done to make her life

932 IMPROVEMENT ERA happy. His alarm continued to increase, and long before the picket gate was reached, he was hastening so fast that his neigh- bor kept pace only with difficulty. "Mother," he whispered hoarsely, as he bent over the bed. There was no answer; she lay perfectly quiet. Never in all his life had he seen her look so white and wan, and he turned a troubled face to the doctor, who was preparing to leave, then to the kind neighbor woman, who was acting in the capacity of nurse. "Is — is — there any doubt about her recovery?" he asked hoarsely. "Mighty sick woman, my boy, but with good care she stands a chance to recover," said the man of science tersely, in depart- ing- Overwhelmed by a feeling of agonizing helplessness, Max walked the floor. Strange and painful emotions were stirring within him. It was as if certain sealed chambers of his heart had been unlocked, revealing for the first time phases of his nature he had not known. As he struggled with the uncer- tainty of his mother's condition, the growing consciousness of his own shortcomings smote him relentlessly, and added to his grief, as the slow hours dragged away. The door opened softly; there was a delicate rustle of silk, mixed with the tender fragrance of her favorite perfume, Lily of -the-valley ; and Mildred Lawrence tip-toed into the room. Max started. He had almost forgotten her, and the impromptu manner of his leaving her at the dance hall. "I came to see how your mother is," she said quietly. "You ought to have let me come with you; I could have helped." There was a note of reproach in her voice which he was sensi- tive to feel. I didn't think she was so bad," he blundered sorely. Among Mildred Lawrence's many charms she possessed a sane understanding of the eternal fitness of things. She was calmly able to meet an emergency. It happened, therefore, that she quietly laid aside her light wraps, and prepared to add her services to the night's vigil. She easily ignored Max's weak re- monstrance, and seemed quite indifferent to his confused apol- ogy. Her manner, without being offensive, made the young man intuitively understand that she disapproved of him, and this increased his misery. "Now, Mrs. Weeks, I'm going to stay right here and help you," she announced sweetly to the lady in attendance. Max was a compound of amazement and sorrow. He glanced furtively into the girl's face and found all the usual beauty and freshness that he loved so well, and the conviction

THE TREASURE SEEKER 933 that he must appear little and mean in her estimation added misery to his belated solicitude concerning his mother. Sit- ting by the bedside he took the sufferer's hard hand in his own, and tried to think. Presently he felt the fingers move convul- sively, and the patient showed evidence of conscious pain. "She's goin' to have another spell," Mrs. Weeks whispered intensively, as she moved to the bed and gazed over Max's shoulder. There was no mistaking the signs of returning pain to the half conscious sufferer. The youth felt the tremor of her body as she began to toss and moan. Desperately he tried to speak to her, but his voice choked and lapsed into silence. "We'll have to give her the applications and the medicine the doctor left." Mrs. Weeks made this explanation to Mildred. Both women with feminine skill were at once busy caring for the sick woman, while the son, heavy-hearted and disconsolate, tried to help, but failed so completely that Mildred pushed him into a chair with the injunction that he keep out of the way. After hours of suffering during which time the two nurses worked constantly to relieve her pain, Mrs. Bowman showed signs of decided improvement. At first she spoke a few words, to Max's complete joy, then fell into a much needed slumber. When Mildred was ready to leave Max accompanied her. Together they walked out into the awakening dawn. The air was fresh and pungent, laden with the joy and fragrance of the coming day. There was little said as they followed the series of sidewalks that led the way to the Lawrence home. Try as he would Max could not command his usual powers of conversa- tion. The placid little moon hovered in the west, looking wear- ily back across the valley before going to her bed of rest be- hind the hills, reminding them incidentally that she, too, had kept an all night watch. "Mildred, you are as beautiful as Diana herself, he whis- pered with agitation, as they stopped at the gate. She glanced languidly at the moon, and tucked up a few stray tresses that had become dislodged from their golden moorings, then turned to him with a tired, troubled expression in her blue eyes.^ "Max don't be so extravagant with your compliments, she reproved. "I-I-oh, I can't talk to you. Good night. ' Her voice trembled with agitation, and she turned and fled into the house. He watched her as one stricken until the patter other feet on the walk died away, and the door slammed behind her. The days of Mrs. Bowman's convalescence were all too slow for Max. Still his joy was unbounded at seeing his pother bat- tie her way successfully back to health, and he spared no effort

934 IMPROVEMENT ERA to add to her comfort and show his devotion. He shed tears of joy when she forgave him all his past delinquencies; and with a full realization that in his eager young ambition he had abused the finest relationship of life, and in doing so had come nearly making himself forever a selfish egotist, he set about to make amends. But thoughts of Mildred were with him always; he felt the sting of her unspoken censure; it hurt him all the more because he knew he deserved it; and he refrained from going to her, preferring to suffer alone. At last, however, he went; and it was at his mother's gentle bidding. Never had he felt so hum- ble. He found her as usual pleased to see him, and she was more beautiful in his eyes than ever, though he fancied he saw a resigned sadness in her countenance that bespoke the impos- sibility of continuing the old relationship. This gave him a chill of helplessness. "Mildred — tell me what's the matter. Max blurted out this appeal after a disconcerting silence. The girl calmly slipped into the divan beside him. "Max, I know you'll think I'm silly, but I can't help it; it's the way I feel," she said simply. "Mildred, I don't think you're silly," he declared vehe- mently; "I'm a fool, a downright worthless fool — and you know it, but hate to tell me." He paused as one relieved of a great bur- den. The girl looked surprised, then a new light of understand- ing came into her smiling face. She knew he had changed, that he had discarded the one quality that had made her resolve not to marry him, in spite of her love. "Yes, I'm a fool," he repeated humbly. "I'm worse than that; I'm a cad. I've never known how to treat my own mother." His voice trembled with emotion." But, Mildred, I love you, will you let me prove to yovi that I have changed? Will you marry me?" "Yes, dear, I'll marry you," she promised, with a nervous little laugh. If you're always good to your mother you will be without fault in my eyes because in the long run a man treats his wife no better than he treats his mother. Passionately he took her in his arms. "God knows that I've learned my lesson," he whispered. "I have no ambition that compares with my desire to be worthy of the two best women who live. Nephi, Utah