Upton Sinclair - The Metropolis

He must have made up his mind at one glance that the ease was hopeless, for he made no attempt to put on speed, but let the young man step aboard as they reached him.

*^ What is it ?" Oliver demanded.

"I have been sent out by the Automobile Association," said the stranger, "to warn you that they have a trap set in the next town. So watch out."

And Oliver gave a gasp, and said, "Oh! Thank you !" The young man stepped off, and they went ahead, and he lay back in his seat and shook with laughter.

"Is that common ?" his brother asked, between laughs.

"It happened to me once before," said Oliver. "But I'd forgotten it completely."

They proceeded very slowly; and when they came to the outskirts of the village they went at a funereal pace, while the car throbbed in protest. In front of a country store they saw a group of loungers watching them, and Oliver said, "There's the first part of the trap. They have a telephone, and somewhere beyond is a man with another telephone, and beyond that a man to stretch a rope across the road."

"What would they do with you.?" asked the other.

"Haul you up before a justice of the peace, and fine you anywhere from fifty to two hundred and fifty dollars. It's regular highway robbery — there are some places that boast of never

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levying taxes; they get all their money out of us!"

Oliver pulled out his watch. "We're going to be late to lunch, thanks to these delays," he said. He added that they were to meet at the "Hawk's Nest," which he said was an "automobile joint."

Outside of the town they "hit it up" again; and half an hour later they came to a huge sign, "To the Hawk's Nest," and turned off. They ran up a hill, and came suddenly out of a pine forest into view of a hostelry, perched upon the edge of a bluff overlooking the Sound. There was a broad yard in front, in which automobiles wheeled and sputtered, and a long shed that was lined with them.

Half a dozen attendants ran to meet them as they drew up at the steps. They all knew Oliver, and two fell to brushing his coat, and one got his cap, while the mechanic took the car to the shed. Oliver had a tip for each of them; one of the things that Montague observed was that in New York you had to carry a pocketful of change, and scatter it about wherever you went. They tipped the man who carried their coats and the boy who opened the door. In the washrooms they tipped the boys who filled the basins for them and those who gave them a second brushing.

The piazzas of the inn were crowded with automobiling parties, in all sorts of strange costumes. It seemed to Montague that most of them were flashy people — the men had red faces and the women had loud voices; he saw

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one in a sky blue coat with bright scarlet facing. It occurred to him that if these women had not worn such large hats, they would not have needed quite such a supply of the bright-coloured veiling which they wound over the hats and tied under their chins, or left to float about in the breeze.

The dining room seemed to have been built in sections, rambling about on the summit of the cliff. The side of it facing the water was all glass, and could be taken down. The ceiling was a maze of streamers and Japanese lanterns, and here and there were orange trees and palms and artificial streams and fountains. Every table was crowded, it seemed; one was half deafened by the clatter of plates, the voices and laughter, and the uproar of a negro orchestra of banjos, mandolins, and guitars. Negro waiters flew here and there, and a huge, stout head waiter, who was pirouetting and strutting, suddenly espied Oliver, and made for him with smiles of welcome.

"Yes, sir — just come in, sir," he said, and led the way down the room, to where, in a corner, a table had been set for sixteen or eighteen people. There was a shout, "Here's Oliie !" — ana a pounding of glasses and a chorus of welcome —"Hello, OUie ! You're late, Ollie ! What's the matter — car broke down ?"

Of the party, about half were men and half women. Montague braced himself for the painful ordeal of being introduced to sixteen people in succession, but this was considerately spared him. He shook hands with Robbie WaUing, a

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tall and rather hollow-chested young man, with slight yellow mustaches; and with Mrs. Robbie, who bade him welcome, and presented him with the freedom of the company.

Then he found himself seated between two young ladies, with a waiter leaning over him to take his order for the drinks. He said, a little hesitatingly, that he would like some whiskey, as he was about frozen, upon which the girl on his right remarked, "You'd better try a champagne cocktail — you'll get your results quicker." She added, to the waiter, "Bring a couple of them, and be quick about it."

"You had a cold ride, no doubt, in that low car," she went on, to Montague. "What made you late.''"

" We had some delays," he answered. " Once we thought we were arrested."

"Arrested!" she exclaimed; and others took up the word, crying, "Oh, OUie ! tell us about it!"

Oliver told the tale, and meantime his brother had a chance to look about him. All of the party were young — he judged that he was the oldest person there. They were not of the flashily dressted sort, but no one would have had to look twice to know that there was money in the crowd. They had had their first round of drinks, and started in to enjoy themselves. They were all intimates, calling each other by their first names. Montague noticed that these names always ended in "ie,"—there was Robbie and Freddie and Auggie and Clarrie and Bertie and Chappie; if their names could not be made to end properly, they had nicknames instead.

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"OUie" told how they had distanced the policeman; and Clarrie Mason (one of the younger sons of the once mighty railroad king) told of a similar feat which his car had performed. And then the young lady who sat beside him told how a fat Irish woman had skipped out of their way as they rounded a corner, and stood and cursed them from the vantage point of the sidewalk.

The waiter came with the liquor, and Montague thanked his neighbour, Miss Price. Anabel Price was her name, and they called her "Billy"; she was a tall and splendidly formed creature, and he learned in due time that she was a famous athlete. She must have divined that he would feel a little lost in this crowd of intimates, and set to work to make him feel at home — an attempt in which she was not altogether successful.

They were bound for a shooting-lodge, and so she asked him if he were fond of shooting. He replied that he was; in answer to a further question he said that he had hunted chiefly deer and wild turkey. "Ah, then you are a real hunter!" said Miss Price. "I'm afraid you'll scorn our way."

"What do you do.?" he inquired.

" Wait and you'll see," replied she; and added, casually, "When you get to be pally with us, you'll conclude we don t furnish."

Montague's jaw dropped just a little. He recovered himself, however, and said that he presumed so, or that he trusted not; afterward, when he had made inquiries and found out what

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he should have said, he had completely forgotten what he had said. — Down in a hotel in Natchez there was an old head waiter, to whom Montague had once appealed to seat him next to a friend. At the next meal, learning that the re-<|uest had been granted, he said to the old man, "I'm afraid you have shown me partiality;" to which the reply came, "I always tries to show it as much as I Tkin." Montague always thought of this whenever he recalled his first encounter with "Billy" Price.

The young lady on the other side of him now remarked that Kobbie was ordering another *'topsy-turvy lunch." He inquired what sort of a lunch that was; she told him that Robbie called it a "digestion exercise." That was the only remark that Miss de Mille addressed to him during the meal (Miss Gladys de Mille, the banker's daughter, known as "Baby" to her intimates). She was a stout and round-faced ^rl, who devoted herself strictly to the business of lunching; and Montague noticed at the end that she was breathing rather hard, and that her big round eyes seemed bigger than ever.