stories of a western town-第2章

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　his　purple　face；　whose　deep　set　eyes　glared　like　the　eyes　of　a　rat　in　a　trap；　and　whose　very　elbows　and　knees　expressed　in　their　cramps　the　fury　of　an　outraged　soul。　When　he　saw　the　new…comers　he　shut　his　eyes　and　his　jaws。　〃Well；　Mr。　Lieders；〃　said　Olsen；　mildly；　〃I　guess　you　better　git　down…stairs。　Kin　I　help　you　up？〃　〃No；〃　said　Lieders。　〃Will　I　give　you　an　arm　to　lean　on？〃　〃No。〃　〃Won't　you　go　at　all；　Mr。　Lieders？〃　〃No。〃　Olsen　shook　his　head。　　〃I　hate　to　trouble　you；　Mr。　Lieders；〃　said　he　in　his　slow；　undecided　tones；　〃please　excuse　me；〃　with　which　he　gathered　up　the　little　man　into　his　strong　arms　and　slung　him　over　his　shoulders；　as　easily　as　he　would　sling　a　sack　of　meal。　It　was　a　vent　for　Mrs。　Olsen's　bubbling　indignation　to　make　a　dive　for　Lieders's　heels　and　hold　them；　while　Carl　backed　down…stairs。　But　Lieders　did　not　make　the　least　resistance。　He　allowed　them　to　carry　him　into　the　room　indicated　by　his　wife；　and　to　lay　him　bound　on　the　plump　feather　bed。　　It　was　not　his　bedroom　but　the　sacred　〃spare　room；〃　and　the　bed　was　part　of　its　luxury。　Thekla　ran　in；　first；　to　remove　the　embroidered　pillow　shams　and　the　dazzling；　silken　〃crazy　quilt〃　that　was　her　choicest　possession。　Safely　in　the　bed；　Lieders　opened　his　eyes　and　looked　from　one　face　to　the　other；　his　lip　curling。　　〃You　can't　keep　me　this　way　all　the　time。　I　can　do　it　in　spite　of　you；〃　said　he。　〃Well；　I　think　you　had　ought　to　be　ashamed　of　yourself；　Mr。　Lieders！〃　　Mrs。　Olsen　burst　out；　in　a　tremble　between　wrath　and　exertion；　shaking　her　little；　plump　fist　at　him。　But　the　placid　Carl　only　nodded；　as　in　sympathy；　saying；　〃Well；　I　am　sorry　you　feel　so　bad；　Mr。　Lieders。　　I　guess　we　got　to　go　now。〃　Mrs。　Olsen　looked　as　if　she　would　have　liked　to　exhort　Lieders　further；　but　she　shrugged　her　shoulders　and　followed　her　husband　in　silence。　〃I　wished　you'd　stay　to　breakfast；　now　you're　here；〃　Thekla　urged　out　of　her　imperious　hospitality；　had　Kurt　been　lying　there　dead；　the　next　meal　must　have　been　offered；　just　the　same。　　〃I　know；　you　aint　got　time　to　git　Mr。　Olsen　his　breakfast；　Freda；　before　he　has　got　to　go　to　the　shops；　and　my　tea…kettle　is　boiling　now；　and　the　coffee'll　be　ready　I　GUESS　you　had　better　stay。〃　But　Mrs。　Olsen　seconded　her　husband's　denial；　and　there　was　nothing　left　Thekla　but　to　see　them　to　the　door。　No　sooner　did　she　return　than　Lieders　spoke。　　〃Aint　you　going　to　take　off　them　ropes？〃　said　he。　〃Not　till　you　promise　you　won't　do　it。〃　Silence。　　Thekla；　brushing　a　few　tears　from　her　eyes；　scrutinized　the　ropes　again；　before　she　walked　heavily　out　of　the　room。　She　turned　the　key　in　the　door。　Directly　a　savory　steam　floated　through　the　hall　and　pierced　the　cracks　about　the　door；　then　Thekla's　footsteps　returned；　they　echoed　over　the　uncarpeted　boards。　She　had　brought　his　breakfast；　cooked　with　the　best　of　her　homely　skill。　The　pork　chops　that　he　liked　had　been　fried；　there　was　a　napkin　on　the　tray；　and　the　coffee　was　in　the　best　gilt　cup　and　saucer。　〃Here's　your　breakfast；　papa；〃　said　she；　trying　to　smile。　〃I　don't　want　no　breakfast；〃　said　he。　She　waited；　holding　the　tray；　and　wistfully　eying　him。　〃Take　it　'way；〃　said　he；　〃I　won't　touch　it　if　you　stand　till　doomsday；　lessen　you　untie　me！〃　〃I'll　untie　your　arm；　papa；　one　arm；　you　kin　eat　that　way。〃　〃Not　lessen　you　untie　all　of　me；　I　won't　touch　a　bite。〃　〃You　know　why　I　won't　untie　you；　papa。〃　〃Starving　will　kill　as　dead　as　hanging；〃　was　Lieders's　orphic　response　to　this。　Thekla　sighed　and　went　away；　leaving　the　tray　on　the　table。　It　may　be　that　she　hoped　the　sight　of　food　might　stir　his　stomach　to　rebel　against　his　dogged　will；　if　so　she　was　disappointed；　half　an　hour　went　by　during　which　the　statue　under　the　bedclothes　remained　without　so　much　as　a　quiver；　Then　the　old　woman　returned。　　〃Aint　you　awful　cramped　and　stiff；　papa？〃　〃Yes；〃　said　the　statue。　〃Will　you　promise　not　to　do　yourself　a　mischief；　if　I　untie　you？〃　〃No。〃　Thekla　groaned；　while　the　tears　started　to　her　red　eyelids。　〃But　you'll　git　awful　tired　and　it　will　hurt　you　if　you　don't　get　the　ropes　off；　soon；　papa！〃　〃I　know　that！〃　He　closed　his　eyes　again；　to　be　the　less　hindered　from　dropping　back　into　his　distempered　musings。　　Thekla　took　a　seat　by　his　side　and　sat　silent　as　he。　　Slowly　the　natural　pallor　returned　to　the　high　forehead　and　sharp　features。　　They　were　delicate　features　and　there　was　an　air　of　refinement；　of　thought；　about　Lieders's　whole　person；　as　different　as　possible　from　the　robust　comeliness　of　his　wife。　With　its　keen　sensitive…ness　and　its　undefined　melancholy　it　was　a　dreamer's　face。　　One　meets　such　faces；　sometimes；　in　incongruous　places　and　wonders　what　they　mean。　　In　fact；　Kurt　Lieders；　head　cabinet　maker　in　the　furniture　factory　of　Lossing　&　Co。；　was　an　artist。　　He　was；　also；　an　incomparable　artisan　and　the　most　exacting　foreman　in　the　shops。　Thirty　years　ago　he　had　first　taken　wages　from　the　senior　Lossing。　He　had　watched　a　modest　industry　climb　up　to　a　great　business；　nor　was　he　all　at　sea　in　his　own　estimate　of　his　share　in　the　firm's　success。　Lieders's　workmanship　had　an　honesty；　an　infinite　patience　of　detail；　a　daring　skill　of　design　that　came　to　be　sought　and　commanded　its　own　price。　　The　Lossing　〃art　furniture〃　did　not　slander　the　name。　No　sculptor　ever　wrought　his　soul　into　marble　with　a　more　unflinching　conscience　or　a　purer　joy　in　his　work　than　this　wood…carver　dreaming　over　sideboards　and　bedsteads。　　Unluckily；　Lieders　had　the　wrong　side　of　the　gift　as　well　as　the　right；　was　full　of　whims　and　crotchets；　and　as　unpracti…cal　as　the　Christian　martyrs。　　He　openly　defied　expense；　and　he　would　have　no　trifling　with　the　laws　of　art。　　To　make　after　orders　was　an　insult　to　Kurt。　　He　made　what　was　best　for　the　customer；　if　the　latter　had　not　the　sense　to　see　it　he　was　a　fool　and　a　pig；　and　some　one　else　should　work　for　him；　not　Kurt　Lieders；　BEGEHR！　Young　Lossing　had　learned　the　business　practically。　He　was　taught　the　details　by　his　father's　best　workman；　and　a　mighty　hard　and　strict　master　the　best　workman　proved！　Lossing　did　not　dream　that　the　crabbed　old　tyrant　who　rarely　praised　him；　who　made　him　go　over；　for　the　twentieth　time；　any　imperfect　piece　of　work；　who　exacted　all　the　artisan　virtues　to　the　last　inch；　was　secretly　proud　of　him。　Yet；　in　fact；　the　thread　of　romance　in　Lieders's　prosaic　life　was　his　idolatry　of　the　Lossing　Manufacturing　Co。　It　is　hard　to　tell　whether　it　was　the　Lossings　or　that　intangible　quantity；　the　firm；　the　business；　that　he　worshipped。　Worship　he　did；　however；　the　one　or　the　other；　perhaps　the　both　of　them；　though　in　the　peevish　and　erratic　manner　of　the　savage　who　sometimes　grovels　to　his　idols　and　sometimes　kicks　them。　Nobody　guessed　what　a　blow　it　was　to　Kurt　when；　a　year　ago；　the　elder　Lossing　had　died。　　Even　his　wife　did　not　connect　his　sullen　melancholy　and　his　gibes　at　the　younger　generation；　with　the　crape　on　Harry　Lossing's　hat。　　He　would　not　go　to　the　funeral；　but　worked　savagely；　all　alone　by　himself；　in　the　shop；　the　whole　afternoonbreaking　down　at　last　at　the　sight　of　a　carved　panel　over　which　Lossing　and　he　had　once　disputed。　　The　desolate　loneliness　of　the　old　came　to　him　when　his　old　master　was　gone。　He　loved　the　young　man；　but　the　old　man　was　of　his　own　generation；　he　had　〃known　how　things　ought　to　be　and　he　could　understand　without　talking。〃　　Lieders　began　to　be　on　the　lookout　for　signs　of　waning　consideration；　to　watch　his　own　eyes　and　hands；　drearily　wondering　when　they　would　begin　to　play　him　false；　at　the　same　time　because　he　was　unhappy　he　was　ten　times　as　exacting　and　peremptory　and　critical　with　the　younger　workmen；　and　ten　times　as　insolently　independent　with　the　young　master。　Often　enough；　Lossing　was　exasperated　to　the　point　of　taking　the　old　man　at　his　word　and　telling　him　to　go　if　he　would；　but　every　time　the　chain　of　long　habit；　a　real　respect　for　such　faithful　service；　and　a　keen　admiration　for　Kurt's　matchless　skill　in　his　craft；　had　held　him　back。　　He　prided　himself　on　keeping　his　word；　for　that　reason　he　was　warier　of　using　it。　So　he　would　compromise　by　giving　the　domineering　old　fellow　a　〃good；　stiff　rowing。〃　　Once；　he　coupled　this　with　a　threat；　if　they　could　not　get　along　decently　they　would　better　part！　Lieders　had　answered　not　a　word；　he　had　given　Lossin