An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

to Sparser, but to his employer, was disturbing, almost

irritatingly so. He did not like the idea of taking anything that

belonged to any one else, even for temporary use.

Something might happen. They might be found out.

“Don’t you think it’s dangerous for us to be going out in this

car?” he asked of Ratterer a few days before the trip and

when he fully understood the nature of the source of the car.

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Ratterer, who being accustomed

to such ideas and devices as this was not much disturbed

by them. “I’m not taking the car and you’re not, are you? If

he wants to take it, that’s his lookout, ain’t it? If he wants

me to go, I’ll go. Why wouldn’t I? All I want is to be brought

back here on time. That’s the only thing that would ever

worry me.”

And Higby, coming up at the moment, had voiced exactly

the same sentiments. Yet Clyde remained troubled. It might

not work out right; he might lose his job through a thing like

this. But so fascinated was he by the thought of riding in

such a fine car with Hortense and with all these other girls

and boys that he could not resist the temptation to go.

Immediately after noon on the Friday of this particular week

the several participants of the outing were gathered at the

points agreed upon. Hegglund, Ratterer, Higby and Clyde at

Eighteenth and West Prospect near the railroad yards.

Maida Axelrod, Hegglund’s girl, Lucille Nickolas, a friend of

Ratterer’s, and Tina Kogel, a friend of Higby’s, also Laura

Sipe, another girl who was brought by Tina Kogel to be

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introduced to Sparser for the occasion, at Twentieth and

Washington. Only since Hortense had sent word at the last

moment to Clyde that she had to go out to her house for

something, and that they were to run out to Forty-ninth and

Genesee, where she lived, they did so, but not without

grumbling.

The day, a late January one, was inclined to be smoky with

lowering clouds, especially within the environs of Kansas

City. It even threatened snow at times—a most interesting

and picturesque prospect to those within. They liked it.

“Oh, gee, I hope it does,” Tina Kogel exclaimed when some

one commented on the possibility, and Lucille Nickolas

added: “Oh, I just love to see it snow at times.” Along the

West Bluff Road, Washington and Second Streets, they

finally made their way across the Hannibal Bridge to

Harlem, and from thence along the winding and hill-

sentineled river road to Randolph Heights and Minaville.

And beyond that came Moseby and Liberty, to and through

which the road bed was better, with interesting glimpses of

small homesteads and the bleak snow-covered hills of

January.

Clyde, who for all his years in Kansas City had never

ventured much beyond Kansas City, Kansas, on the west or

the primitive and natural woods of Swope Park on the east,

nor farther along the Kansas or Missouri Rivers than

Argentine on the one side and Randolph Heights on the

other, was quite fascinated by the idea of travel which

appeared to be suggested by all this—distant travel. It was

all so different from his ordinary routine. And on this

occasion Hortense was inclined to be very genial and

friendly. She snuggled down beside him on the seat, and

when he, noting that the others had already drawn their

girls to them in affectionate embraces, put his arm about

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her and drew her to him, she made no particular protest.

Instead she looked up and said: “I’ll have to take my hat off,

I guess.” The others laughed. There was something about

her quick, crisp way which was amusing at times. Besides

she had done her hair in a new way which made her look

decidedly prettier, and she was anxious to have the others

see it.

“Can we dance anywhere out here?” she called to the

others, without looking around.

“Surest thing you know,” said Higby, who by now had

persuaded Tina Kogel to take her hat off and was holding

her close. “They got a player-piano and a Victrola out there.

If I’d ‘a’ thought, I’d ‘a’ brought my cornet. I can play Dixie

on that.”

The car was speeding at breakneck pace over a snowy

white road and between white fields. In fact, Sparser,

considering himself a master of car manipulation as well as

the real owner of it for the moment, was attempting to see

how fast he could go on such a road.

Dark vignettes of wood went by to right and left. Fields

away, sentinel hills rose and fell like waves. A wide-armed

scarecrow fluttering in the wind, its tall decayed hat awry,

stood near at hand in one place. And from near it a flock of

crows rose and winged direct toward a distant wood lightly

penciled against a foreground of snow.

In the front seat sat Sparser, guiding the car beside Laura

Sipe with the air of one to whom such a magnificent car

was a commonplace thing. He was really more interested in

Hortense, yet felt it incumbent on him, for the time being,

anyhow, to show some attention to Laura Sipe. And not to

be outdone in gallantry by the others, he now put one arm

about Laura Sipe while he guided the car with the other, a

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feat which troubled Clyde, who was still dubious about the

wisdom of taking the car at all. They might all be wrecked

by such fast driving. Hortense was only interested by the

fact that Sparser had obviously manifested his interest in

her; that he had to pay some attention to Laura Sipe

whether he wanted to or not. And when she saw him pull

her to him and asked her grandly if she had done much

automobiling about Kansas City, she merely smiled to

herself.

But Ratterer, noting the move, nudged Lucille Nickolas, and

she in turn nudged Higby, in order to attract his attention to

the affectional development ahead.

“Getting comfortable up front there, Willard?” called

Ratterer, genially, in order to make friends with him.

“I’ll say I am,” replied Sparser, gayly and without turning.

“How about you, girlie?”

“Oh, I’m all right,” Laura Sipe replied.

But Clyde was thinking that of all the girls present none was

really so pretty as Hortense—not nearly. She had come

garbed in a red and black dress with a very dark red poke

bonnet to match. And on her left cheek, just below her

small rouged mouth, she had pasted a minute square of

black court plaster in imitation of some picture beauty she

had seen. In fact, before the outing began, she had been

determined to outshine all the others present, and distinctly

she was now feeling that she was succeeding. And Clyde,

for himself, was agreeing with her.

“You’re the cutest thing here,” whispered Clyde, hugging

her fondly.

“Gee, but you can pour on the molasses, kid, when you

want to,” she called out loud, and the others laughed. And

Clyde flushed slightly.

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Beyond Minaville about six miles the car came to a bend in

a hollow where there was a country store and here

Hegglund, Higby and Ratterer got out to fetch candy,

cigarettes and ice cream cones and ginger ale. And after

that came Liberty, and then several miles this side of

Excelsior Springs, they sighted the Wigwam which was

nothing more than an old two-story farmhouse snuggled

against a rise of ground behind it. There was, however,

adjoining it on one side a newer and larger one-story

addition consisting of the dining-room, the dance floor, and

concealed by a partition at one end, a bar. An open fire

flickered cheerfully here in a large fireplace. Down in a

hollow across the road might be seen the Benton River or

creek, now frozen solid.

“There’s your river,” called Higby cheerfully as he helped

Tina Kogel out of the car, for he was already very much

warmed by several drinks he had taken en route. They all

paused for a moment to admire the stream, winding away

among the trees. “I wanted dis bunch to bring dere skates

and go down dere,” sighed Hegglund, “but dey wouldn’t.

Well, dat’s all right.”

By then Lucille Nickolas, seeing a flicker of flame reflected

in one of the small windows of the inn, called, “Oh, see,

they gotta fire.”

The car was parked, and they all trooped into the inn, and

at once Higby briskly went over and started the large, noisy,

clattery, tinny Nickelodeon with a nickel. And to rival him,

and for a prank, Hegglund ran to the Victrola which stood in

one corner and put on a record of “The Grizzly Bear,” which

he found lying there.

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At the first sounds of this strain, which they all knew, Tina