Read Online Theophilus North by Thornton Wilder - Free Book Online

“The idea, Mr. North, is that you might intercept them somewhere—somewhere, somehow—and bring Miss Diana back.—You’re a free man. There’s no compulsion on you whatever. Miss Diana’s a mature woman; she may refuse absolutely to return to her father’s home. All Mr. Bell is asking you, as a favor—as one Yale man to another—is to try. Would you be willing to see what you could do?”
    I looked down at the floor.
    I didn’t believe in any sense in the universe. I thought I didn’t believe in loyalty or friendship—but there was Bill Wentworth, maybe with his life-long job at stake. And there was that apoplectic bully; there was Mrs. Bell who ransacked the bureau drawers of a twenty-six-year-old daughter for private letters—and read them.
    Of course I would do it and I would succeed. But I wasn’t going to make it easy for Mr. Bell, either.
    â€œWhat’s your idea that I should do, Mr. Bell?”
    â€œWhy, follow them. Better follow them beyond Narragansett Pier so that whatever you decide to do won’t happen too near Newport. Wait to see where they stop to eat or spend the night. Put their car out of order. Beat down their door if necessary. Point out to her what an idiot she is. The disgrace of it! She’ll break her mother’s heart.”
    â€œDo you know anything disreputable about this man?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThis Mr. Jones—do you know him?”
    â€œGod, no! He’s a nobody. He’s a goddam fortune hunter. He’s trash.”
    â€œHave you Mr. Jones’s letter on you, Mr. Bell?”
    â€œYes, here it is, and to hell with it!” He pulled it from his pocket and threw it on the carpet between us. Bill and I were also “nobodies” and “trash.”
    Bill rose and picked it up from the floor. “Mr. Bell, we are asking Mr. North to help us in a matter of strict confidence. We hope that he will be successful and that you and Mrs. Bell will wish to thank him.”
    Mr. Bell struggled with himself. In a choked voice he said, “I am in a very disturbed state. I apologize for throwing the letter on the floor.”
    I said to Bill, “We’re putting this in a large envelope and sealing it with wax. Address it to Miss Bell and write: ‘Received from Mr. Augustus Bell, sealed, unread, by William Wentworth and Theophilus North.’—Mr. Bell, may I ask where your daughter met Mr. Jones?”
    â€œWe live in Newport most of the year. My daughter and a number of her friends belong to a group of voluntary assistants at the hospital. Diana is crazy about children. She met this Mr. Jones when he was calling on his three-year-old daughter who was a patient there. He’s a vulgar unscrupulous fortune hunter, just like the others. We’ve had to cope with these bastards over and over again. It’s obvious.”
    The only thing to do with a man like that is to continue looking at him expectantly, as though he were about to say something completely convincing. Without agreement and applause such men deflate; they gasp for air.
    After a pause I began again. “Mr. Bell, I must propose a few reasonable conditions. There shall be no mention of any remuneration to me whatever. I shall send a bill for the exact amount I lose for canceling my engagements here. That’s compensation, not payment for a job. I want a car placed at my disposal, dark blue to black in color—one that can hold three persons in the front seat if possible. I would like a good revolver.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Mr. Bell angrily.
    â€œI won’t be using conventional ammunition; I can make my own. If your daughter’s car were to be found by the police at the side of a Rhode Island or Connecticut highway punctured by a bullet, it might be reported in the newspapers. I can puncture it, as you might say, naturally. I would like a sealed envelope containing ten ten-dollar bills