The Grove Of Doom s-37 Read online

  Harvey Chittenden had a rather abrupt manner. He displayed it now, as he turned to Pearson. It was obvious that he desired to know the purpose of the lawyer’s visit.

  “What brings you here, Mr. Pearson?” he asked. “Some idea of a family reconciliation?”

  “I must confess that I have such in mind,” laughed Pearson, “but actually this first visit is scarcely more than a friendly call. In a sense, I have represented you legally - and I was, therefore, anxious to meet you.”

  “I have no desire for a reconciliation,” stated Harvey coldly. “Outside of that, Mr. Pearson, I am glad to see you.”

  “Harvey” - Mildred’s voice made the interruption - “I think you should be fair to Mr. Pearson. Whatever he may have to say, it is only right to listen to

  -“

  “All right,” said Harvey abruptly, “let’s get it over with. I handle matters directly. Tell me what’s on your mind, Mr. Pearson.”

  “If we were alone -” began Pearson.

  “We do not need to be alone,” objected Harvey. “Mildred is my wife. Ware has my full confidence. I rely upon their judgment; they already know my story as I have told it. Let us have your version, then hear what they have to say.”

  The four were seated about the porch. Ware looked at Pearson and smiled. This was encouraging to the lawyer. He cleared his throat in dignified fashion, and began to speak. He addressed his remarks directly to Harvey, while the others listened.

  “HARVEY,” said Pearson, “the Chittenden family has been subject to many unfortunate misunderstandings. I have witnessed them, and they have grieved me. I fail to see why they should continue, even though they may be considered justifiable to members of the Chittenden family.

  “Your grandfather had two sons: Sidney, the elder; Galbraith, the younger. Your grandfather possessed two houses - Upper Beechview, yonder on the large hill; and Lower Beechview - this residence. By the terms of his will, he intended to leave Upper Beechview to Sidney, and Lower Beechview to Galbraith.

  “Then came misunderstanding. Sidney, against your grandfather’s wishes, married an actress. Sidney was disinherited. He went away, experienced a stormy career, and died abroad a year after his marriage.”

  “What has this to do with me?” now questioned Harvey Chittenden. “I know the story you have told; it belongs to the past.”

  “To the past, yes,” declared Pearson, in a kindly tone. “Nevertheless, it has a bearing on the present. Your grandfather made Galbraith his sole heir, for he considered Galbraith to be his only son. Galbraith married, and you were born. Your grandfather was delighted. He said that he had two sons again: Galbraith and Harvey. So to Galbraith he willed Upper Beechview; to you he willed Lower Beechview.

  “Now comes the present misunderstanding. Your grandfather died, and the terms of his will were carried out. You did not occupy Lower Beechview, because you were still a minor. But you were now the eldest of three brothers. The other two, Wilbur and Zachary, were naturally piqued because they were not considered in the will. They made it unpleasant for you; and when you came of age, you went away. Thus the misunderstanding has continued. Now that you have returned, I should like to see a reconciliation.”

  There was a momentary pause. Harvey Chittenden, resting back in his chair, was staring off into the distance. Far beyond the grove of copper beeches he could see the turrets of Upper Beechview. An expression of grim antagonism crept over his features. Still staring in the distance, Harvey spoke in a firm, steady voice.

  “Your story, Mr. Pearson,” he said, “does not include the most important facts. You did not put up with the misery that I experienced. For years, my younger brothers tormented me with their insane jealousy. They tried to poison my father’s mind against me. While still in their teens, they plotted to find some way in which I could be deprived of the estate given me by my grandfather. Now that they have come of age, I do not believe any scheme could be too vicious for them to attempt - if they felt that they could gain the possessions which are rightfully mine.

  “I left home when I was twenty-one. For twelve years I have been a wanderer. Why? Because I knew the evil natures of Wilbur and Zachary, knew that they hated me. I went away, because I had become my own master, and realized that if those cowards did not know where I was, they could not harm me. I made every provision to protect my property, but I left it abandoned because I did not want to live here. That is my story, Mr. Pearson - one of perpetual persecution.”

  “I understand,” said Pearson. “Nevertheless, you have returned, after all. That is why I felt that perhaps old feuds could be forgotten -“

  “The feud,” interrupted Harvey, “was instituted by my jealous brothers. You mistake my purpose in reopening this estate. I did not come here to please Wilbur and Zachary; I came here to spite them. I am married; I own this property; I am independent. I shall live my own life, and if they attempt to interfere - if anyone attempts to interfere -“

  HARVEY CHITTENDEN’S voice broke off. Mildred looked toward her husband with alarm. Craig Ware seemed troubled. An expression of intense hatred now clouded Harvey’s face.

  “Your father,” said Pearson softly. “He is an old man, Harvey. Surely you can bear no animosity toward him for -“

  “I do not care to make the acquaintance of my father,” said Harvey, in an angry tone. “He still tolerates those leeches. He knows Wilbur and Zachary for what they are. Let him drive them out - send them into the misery that I accepted voluntarily - then I shall be ready to consider his welcome.”

  “Your father,” declared Pearson, “longs to meet you, Harvey. You are his eldest son. He knows that you were justified in what you did. In the Chittenden family, the eldest son is the chief heir. You still hold that position; Wilbur and Zachary have failed to weaken it.”

  “Although they have tried to do so,” announced Harvey. “Answer that, Pearson! Answer it truthfully!”

  “You are right,” admitted the lawyer. “I cannot deny it, Harvey. I have been given the draft of a will that leaves you totally cut off - but I can assure you that your father has never signed such a document. As matters now stand, you will some day own Upper Beechview.”

  “Unless Wilbur and Zachary get their dirty work across,” growled Harvey. “Well, let them do it - I was right when I termed them leeches.”

  “A friendship between you and your father,” purred Pearson, “would effectively frustrate any actions on the part of your brothers.”

  “Yes,” countered Harvey, “and if those two were put where they belong, there could never be a chance of dispute. If my father has sent you here, Mr. Pearson, you can take back my ultimatum. Tell him to get rid of Wilbur and Zachary - any way he chooses - before someone else gives them what they deserve. Then my father and I will be reunited; but not so long as those two remain.”

  There was a threatening tone to Harvey Chittenden’s voice that made a marked impression upon Walter Pearson. The old lawyer arose and bowed stiffly. His patience was at an end. He made that fact plain.

  “You have spoken very vindictively, Harvey Chittenden,” remarked the attorney. “One might infer that it was you who threatened Wilbur and Zachary - not they who threatened you. I shall remember that fact, if I am ever called upon to disclose the affairs of the Chittenden family.”

  Harvey Chittenden sprang to his feet. His fists were clenched as he stared at the gray-haired lawyer. Then the animosity died away on his face, and a look of cold calculation replaced it. Without another word, Harvey Chittenden turned and entered the house. Mildred, with a word of regret to Walter Pearson, arose and followed her husband.

  THE lawyer got up and started toward the steps. Craig Ware, still retaining his composure, walked with him, speaking in a quiet tone.

  “You touched his sore spot, Mr. Pearson,” explained Ware. “You can’t blame him - he’s put up with a lot. At the same time, it would be better for him to curb his feelings -“

  A voice interrupted from an upstairs window. Harve
y Chittenden was delivering a parting thrust to Walter Pearson, while Mildred, in view beside her husband, was trying to quiet him.

  “Remember this” - Harvey’s voice was harsh - “I shall have no more to do with anyone who is connected with my father and my brothers. That includes you, Pearson. Bad luck to the lot of you!”

  Harvey said no more. Ware continued to the gate with Pearson. There, the lawyer turned to shake hands with the man who had accompanied him.

  “Most unfortunate,” declared Pearson. “You have heard but little, Mr. Ware. There are secrets of the Chittenden family which I alone know. Back before Harvey was born; back when Sidney was disinherited, and Galbraith came into the large estate. Well” - he paused and smiled wanly - “today means nothing. The facts that I could reveal might prove amazing.

  “The Chittendens are a vindictive race, Mr. Ware. They have always been outspoken - all except Sidney, who gave up his birthright. Well, it’s in the blood. It can’t be helped. Perhaps, some time, Harvey may feel more lenient toward me. I come out frequently to the golf course. I shall look him up again, perhaps.”

  With this final statement, Walter Pearson shrugged his shoulders, and walked through the gate. His departing form dwindled to a pygmy shape in the distance, as he wended his way across the links toward the clubhouse that rested upon the rolling inland hill.

  CHAPTER III

  INTO THE GROVE

  TWO days had past since Walter Pearson had visited Lower Beechview. The first day had been a troubled one for Mildred Chittenden. Never before had she seen Harvey indulge in such an outburst of temper as he had displayed toward the kindly old lawyer. The effects of that fit of anger had remained. For one day, Harvey had grumbled imprecations toward his family and their legal representative.

  Now, Harvey had taken on a state of sulkiness. He wanted to be alone, so Mildred had sought the company of Craig Ware. Seated on the lawn, they were looking toward the Sound, and enjoying a pleasant conversation.

  Craig Ware was a likable character. His presence pleased Mildred because she felt that Ware fully understood Harvey. To Ware, who had always proven a true friend, Mildred had no hesitancy in expressing her troubles. Thus the chat turned in that direction now.

  “You have known Harvey a long while, Craig,” remarked Mildred. “Tell me, does he often act as he has acted during the last few days? We have only been married a few months - scarcely back from our honeymoon - and this is a new and trying experience for me.”

  “Well, Mildred,” said Ware, “I’ve been many places, and I’ve met a great many men, but I’ve never known any that could come up to Harvey Chittenden. That’s how much I think of him. Of course, so far as his family is concerned - well - they’re out to get Harvey. This trouble with Pearson was just too bad, that’s all.

  “Now, I’ve known Harvey ever since he broke away from home. I’m sort of like a cousin to him. I’ve knocked around ever since I was a kid. Been a showman all my life. Carnivals - circuses - handled all sorts of jobs, and I’ve been pretty near everywhere.

  “At the time I met Harvey, he wanted to get plenty far away from home, so I lined him up a job with a steamship company sailing over through the Orient. Used to see him often out in Frisco. Kept track of him all the time.

  “He told me when he met you - told me he was going to marry you - and we talked it over. I knew all about his family troubles, but he and I both figured it was wise to open up this place that belonged to him. I was sort of retired for the summer, so I came on to see that everything was made shipshape.”

  “And it is shipshape!” declared Mildred admiringly.

  “Don’t blame me for that,” laughed Ware. “Lay it on Jessup over there.” He pointed back toward the garage where a tall, rangy man was directing workmen who were mixing cement for the garage entrance, at present nothing but a grassy path.

  “JESSUP?” questioned Mildred. “I thought he was just a handy man, whom Harvey hired.”

  “That’s what he is,” said Ware, “but he’s a mighty handy man. Used to do contracting work for the steamship company out in San Francisco. When Harvey and I talked over fixing up this place, Harvey said he’d like to get Jessup, who had gone East. So he wrote to Jessup, and signed him up. I just came on to watch Jessup work - that’s about the size of it. He takes orders from me because Harvey told him to, but his real boss is Harvey.”

  “Harvey is very pleased with the work,” remarked Mildred. “I remember now that Jessup came into New York several times while we were staying there. He had long conferences with Harvey. Then Harvey came out here to look things over; he said I could see the place when it was ready. You were here at that time, weren’t you, Craig?”

  “When Harvey came out from New York? Once. The other times I was up in Boston, gunning for a job this coming season. That’s what I mean when I say Jessup is the fellow who has done the real work. He needs someone to tell him he’s doing a good job - that’s all. You can leave it to him to do the rest.”

  Mildred Chittenden was thoughtful. She had come here to Lower Beechview to find a wonderful place that had exceeded all her expectations. She remembered how Harvey had enthused over his short visits to Long Island, but had kept her waiting until all would be ready. Her first sight of Lower Beechview had given her a thrill; then had come unhappiness, because of Harvey’s quarrel with Walter Pearson.

  Mildred’s intuition told her that troublesome times lay ahead. She realized now, as never before, the loathing which Harvey held for his brothers, and the animosity which he nourished toward his father. If Wilbur and Zachary felt the hatred toward Harvey that he claimed they did, a clash would prove inevitable.

  The grounds hereabout, the shining Sound, the beautiful sky - all were ideal to Mildred. Yet she wished that she and Harvey could be anywhere else but here. The girl repressed an unhappy sigh. She looked at Craig Ware. The showman was reclining comfortably, puffing his pipe, without a care in the world.

  “Craig,” pleaded Mildred earnestly, “promise me you will stay here a while - until these matters are settled between Harvey and his family. I” - her voice hesitated - “I am afraid of what may happen. Harvey has displayed a terrible temper. Someone must be here to restrain him. You are his best friend, Craig -“

  “It’s all right, Mildred,” replied Ware quietly. “Harvey is over his outburst now. I don’t think the trouble will start again -“

  “I’m afraid more now than before,” interrupted the girl hastily. “He is so much by himself, as though one subject is constantly upon his mind. I would rather see him angry than silently plotting. It worries me, Craig.”

  THE showman puffed thoughtfully at his pipe, then turned to discern the anxious expression upon Mildred’s face. With keen understanding, Ware spoke the words that he knew would allay the girl’s fears.

  “I’ll stay on a while, Mildred,” he agreed. “We’ll look out for Harvey, you and I. Just make up your mind that you are going to enjoy life here. Everything will smooth out.”

  Jessup was approaching across the lawn. He stopped and stood silent, waiting to speak to Ware. The showman noted Jessup’s presence, and questioned the man.

  “What is it, Jessup?”

  “I’m going uptown, Mr. Ware. Need some new tools, and I want to price them. Figured I could call back to find out if it would be all right to buy them.”

  “See Mr. Chittenden, Jessup. He is the boss. I’m just a supernumerary.”

  Ware laughed as Jessup’s overalled form entered the house. He nudged his thumb back over his shoulder as he spoke to Mildred.

  “That’s Jessup for you,” he declared. “The man won’t make a move until he gets orders from higher up. Well, it will do Harvey good to have Jessup constantly bothering him about trifles. It will help him keep his mind off that other matter.”

  Mildred nodded. Ware’s formula seemed a good one. It was apparently proved a few minutes later, when Harvey Chittenden came from the house with Jessup. Harvey was talking to the workman, and
Jessup was nodding to show that he understood instructions. Jessup drove away in an old touring car, and Harvey went back into the house.

  Time drifted slowly by; at length Ware suggested that Mildred walk about the grounds of Lower Beechview. Together, they went toward the little gate where Ware had said good-bye to Walter Pearson two days before. The showman pointed across the broad, rolling green, toward the distant clubhouse on the golf links.

  “The Beechview Country Club,” he stated. “All part of old Galbraith’s estate. Big rental every year, I understand. I’ll bet those two boys do their share in spending it.”

  They walked in back of the house, and reached the little cove on the other side. There a long pier, ending in a float, attracted Mildred’s attention. One of Jessup’s workmen approached, tipped his hat, and questioned Ware about some details on the garage job. The showman shrugged his shoulders, then went to attend to the matter. Mildred went back to the front of the house.

  GLANCING in the direction of the grove, Mildred was impressed by the somber depths that seemed to exist beneath the copper-leafed trees. She had strolled nearly to the rocky shore; now the thick clump of woods attracted her. It looked cool beneath those trees. Mildred went to the edge of the grove.

  A magical spell seized the girl almost as soon as she entered beneath the shade of the nearest tree. She recalled childhood stories of enchanted forests; this woods answered their description. Twenty yards in from the fringe of lawn, Mildred was in a region of absolute stillness. She glanced incredulously toward the uniform tree trunks; then looked up toward the leaves.