Stephen Crane Maggie: a Girl of the Streets

Great Short Works of

The Red Badge of Courage Stephen Crane Maggie: A Girl of the Streets

The Monster

An Experiment in Misery Introduction A Mystery of Heroism by James B. Colvert An Episode of War The Upturned Face The Open Boat The Pace of Youth The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky The Blue Hotel

PERENNIAL LIBRARY LLJ

Harper &Row. Publishers, New York , Grand Rapids, Philadelphia, St. Louis, San Francisco • London. Singapore, Sydney, Tokyo. Toronto -

CONTENTS

Introduction by James B. Colvert vii

THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE 3

This Perennial Classic The Red Badge of Courage gives the text of STORIES: the first American edition, published by Appleton in September, 1895. Maggie: A Girl of the Streets was first published in 1893; this Perennial Classic edition gives the text of the revised New Yort. An Experiment in Misery 248 edition of 1896. The Monster first appeared in 1899 in The Monster and Other Stories. A Mystery of Heroism 259 "An Rxperiment in Misery" was first published in the New Yort. An Episode of War Press, April 22, 1894. "A Mystery of Heroism" appeared first in the 268 f>.hiladelphia Press (August 1 and 2. 1895) and was included in The The Upturned Face 272 Little Regiment (1896). "An Episode of War" was written in 1899 and was published in England in Last Words (1902). "The Upturned The Open Boat 277 Face" appeared first in Ainslee'$ Magazine in March, 1900. "The Open Boat" appeared in Scribner's Magazine Gune, 1897) and thea The Pace of Youth 303 in The Open Boat and Other Stories, published in 1898. "The Pacr The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky of Youth" was first published in the New York Press, January 11 313 and 19, 1895. "The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky" was first publishell The Blue Hotel in McClure's Magazine, February, 1898. "The Blue Hotel" was fil'lIt 325 published in Collier's Weekly (November 26, 1898) and was includell ,'-"II'Taphy 355 in The Monster (1899 and 1901). 358 PERENNIAL CLASSICS are published by Harper &: Row, Inc.. 10 East 53rd Street, New York. N.Y. 10022.

0001 02 OPM 403938373635 324 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE SO much enforced reasonin~ ,had told on Wil~n:s rage; he was calmer. "If you am t got a gun, why am t you got a gun?" he sneered. "Been to Sunday-school?" THE BLUE HOTEL "I ain't got a gun because I've just come from San Anton' with my wife. I'm married." said Potter. "A!ld if I'd thought there was going to be any. galoots h~e you prowling around when I brought my wife home. I d had a gun. and don't you forget it." . * I * "Married!" said Scratchy, not at all comprehendmg. THE Palace Hotel at Fort Romper was painted "Yes, married. I'm married," said Potter, distinctly. a light blue, a shade that is on the legs of a kind of "Married?" said Scratchy. Seemingly for the first heron, causing the bird to declare its position against time, he saw the drooping, drowning ,,:oman at the any background. The Palace Hotel, then, was always other man's side. "Not" he said. He was lIke a creature screaming and howling in a way that made the dazzling allowed a glimpse of another world. He moved a I?ace winter landscape of Nebraska seem only a grey swamp backward, and his arm, with the revolver. dropped to ish hush. It stood alone on the prairie, and when the his side. "Is this the lady?" he asked. snow was falling the town two hundred yards away was "Yes; this is the lady," answered Potter. not visible. But when the traveller alighted at the rail There was another period of silence. way station· he was obliged to pass the Palace Hotel "Well," said Wilson at last, slowly, "I s'pose it's all before he could come upon the company of low clap off now." board houses which composed Fort Romper, and it was "It's all off if you say so, Scratchy. You know I not to be thought that any traveller could pass the didn't make the trouble." Potter lifted his valise. Palace Hotel without looking at it. Pat Scully, the "Well. I 'low it's off, Jack," said Wilson. He was proprietor, had proved himself a master of strategy looking at the ground. "Marriedl" l;Ie was not a stu when he chose his paints. It is true that on clear days, dent of chivalry;. i! was merely t!tat m t~e presence of when the great transcontinental expresses, long lines of this foreign condition he was a sunple chlld of the ear swaying pUllmans, swept through Fort Romper, pas lier plains. He picked up his starboard revolver, and, sengers were overcome at the sight, and the cult that placing both weapons in their hol~ters, he wen.t away. knows the brown-reds and the subdivisions of the dark His feet made funnel-shaped tracks In the heavy sand. greens of the East expressed shame, pity, horror, in a laugh. But to the citizens of this prairie town and to the people who would naturally stop there, Pat Scully had performed a feat. With this opulence and splen dour, these creeds, classes, egotisms, that streamed through Romper on the rails day after day, they had no colour in common. As if the displayed delights of such a blue hotel were not sufficiently enticing, it was Scully's habit to go ev ery morning and evening to meet the leisurely trains that stopped at Romper and work his seductions upon any man that he might see wavering, gripsack in hand. One morning, when a snow-crusted engine dragged its long string of freight cars and its one passenger coach to the station, Scully performed the marvel of 325 826 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - 327 catching three men. One was a shaky and quick-eyed farmer, stationary, invincible in his chair near the warm Swede, with a great shining cheap valise; one was a est part of the stove, turned his face from the saw tall bronzed cowboy, who was on his way to a ranch dust-box frequently and addressed a glowing common near the Dakota line; one was a little silent man from place to the strangers. Usually he was answered in the East, who didn't look it, and didn't announce it. short but adequate sentences by either the cowboy or Scully practically made them prisoners. He was so the Easterner. The Swede said nothing. He seemed to nimble and merry and kindly that each probably felt it be occupied in making furtive estimates of each man in would be the height of brutality to try to escape. They the room. One might have thought that he had the trudged off over the creaking board sidewalks in the sense of silly suspicion which comes to guilt. He re wake of the eager little Irishman. He wore a heavy fur sembled a badly frightened man. cap squeezed tightly down on his head. It caused his Later, at dinner, he spoke a little, addressing his con two red ears to stick out stiffly, as if they were made versation entirely to Scully. He volunteered that he of tin. had come from New York, where for ten years he had At last, Scully, elaborately, with boisterous hospi. worked as a tailor. These facts seemed to strike Scully tality, conducted them through the portals of the blue as fascinating, and afterward he volunteered that he hotel. The room which they entered was small. It had lived at Romper for fourteen years. The Swede seemed to be merely a proper temple for an enormous asked about the crops and the price of labour. He seemed stove, which, in the centre, was humming with godlike bare!y to listen to Scully's extended replies, His eyes violence. At various points on its surface the iron had contmued to rove from man to man. become luminous and glowed yellow from the heat. Be Finally, with a laugh and a wink, he said that some side the stove Scully's son Johnnie was playing High of these Western communities were very dangerous; Five with an old farmer who had whiskers both grey and after his statement he straightened his legs under and sandy. They were quarrelling. Frequently the old the tabl~, tilted his head, and laughed again, loudly. It farmer turned his face toward a box of sawdust--col was plam that the demonstration had no meaning to oured brown from tobacco juice-that was behind the the others. They looked at him wondering and in silence. stove, and spat with an air of great impatience and irritation. With a loud flourish of words Scully de stroyed the game of cards, and bustled his son upstairs with part of the baggage of the new guests. He himself * II * conducted them to three basins of the coldest water in As the men trooped heavily back into the front the world. The cowboy and the Easterner burnished roo~, the two little windows presented views of a tur themselves fiery red with this water, until it seemed to mOll,lOg sea of snow, The huge arms of the wind were be some kind of metal-polish. The Swede, however, maklOg attempts--mighty, circular, futile-to embrace merely dipped his fingers gingerly and with trepida the flakes as they sped. A gate-post like a still man with a tion. It was notable that throughout this series of small blanched face stood aghast amid this profligate fury. ceremonies the three travellers were made to feel that In. a hearty voice Scully announced the presence of a Scully was very benevolent. He was conferring great fa b~lZzard. The gu~sts of the blue hotel, lighting their vours upon them. He handed the towel from one to pipeS, asse~Hed WIth grunts of lazy masculine content another with an air of philanthropic impulse. ment, No ,lsla,nd of the se~ c0.uld be exempt in the de Afterward they went to the first room, and, sitting gz:ee of thIS httle .room WIth Its humming stove. John about the stove, listened to Scully's officious clamour at rue, son of Scully. 10 a tone which defined his opinion of his daughters, who were preparing the midday meaL his ability as a card-player, challenged the old farmer They reflected in the silence of experienced men who o~ both grey and sandy w~iskers to a game of High tread carefully amid new people. Nevertheless, the old FIve. The farmer agreed WIth a contemptuous and bit. 328 GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL -1I29 ter scoff. They sat close to the stove, and squared their the game. Finally, during a lull caused by a new deal, knees under a wide board. The cowboy and the East the Swede suddenly addressed Johnnie: "I suppose there erner watched the game with interest. The Swede re have been a good many men killed in this room." The mained near the window, aloof, but with a countenance jaws of the others dropped and they looked at him. that showed signs of an inexplicable excitement. "What in hell are you talking about?" said Johnnie. The play of Johnnie and the grey-beard was sud The Swede laughed again his blatant laugh. full of a denly ended by another quarrel. The old man arose kind of false courage and defiance. "Oh, you know what while casting a look of heated scorn at his adversary. I mean all right," he answered. He slowly buttoned his coat, and then stalked with fab· "I'm a liar if I dol" Johnnie protested. The card was ulous dignity from the room. In the discreet silence of halted, and the men stared at the Swede. Johnnie evi· all the other men the Swede laughed. His laughter rang dently felt that as the son of the proprietor he should somehow childish. Men by this time had begun to look make a direct inquiry. "Now, what might you be drivin' at him askance, as if they wished to inquire what ailed at, mister?" he asked. The Swede winked at him. It was him. a wink full of cunning. His fingers shook on the edge of A new game was formed jocosely. The cowboy volun the board. "Oh, maybe you think I have been to no teered to become the partner of Johnnie, and they all wheres. Maybe you think I'm a tenderfoot?" then turned to ask the Swede to throw in his lot with the "I don't know nothin' a~out you," answeredlohnnie, little Easterner. He asked some questions about the game, "and I don't give a damn where you've been. II I got and, learning that it wore many names, and that he to say is that I don't know what you're driving at. There had played it when it was under an alias, he accepted hain't never been nobody killed in this room." the invitation. He strode toward the men nervously, The cowboy, who had been steadily gazing at the as if he expected to be assaulted. Finally, seated, he Swede, then spoke: "What's wrong with you, mister?" gazed from face to face and laughed shrilly. This laugh Apparently it seemed to the Swede that he was for was so strange that the Easterner looked up quickly, midably menaced. He shivered and turned white near the cowboy sat intent and with his mouth open, and ~he comers of his mouth. He sent an appealing glance Johnnie paused, holding the cards with still fingers. m the direction of the little Easterner. During these Afterward there was a short silence. Then Johnnie moments he did not forget to wear his air of advanced said, "Well, let's get at it. Come on now!" They pulled pot-valour. "They say they don't know what I mean," their chairs forward until their knees were bunched un he remarked mockingly to the Easterner. der the board. They began to play, and their interest The latter answered after prolonged and cautious in the game caused the others to forget the manner of the r~flection. "I don't understand you," he said, impas. Swede. SIVely. The cowboy was a board-whacker. Each time that he The Swede made a movement then which announced held superior cards he whanged them, one by one, with that he thought he had encountered treachery from the exceeding force, down upon the improvised table, and only quarter where he had expected sympathy, if not took the tricks with a glowing air of prowess and pri~e help. "Oh, I see you are all against me. I see-" that sent thrills of indignation into the hearts of hIS The cowboy was in a state of deep stupefaction. opponents. A game with a board-whacker in it is sure "Say," he cried. as he tumbled the deck violently down to become intense. The countenances-of the Easterner upon the board. "say. what are you gittin' at, hey?" and the Swede were miserable whenever the cowbo. ~he Swede sprang up with the celerity of a man es thundered down his aces and kings, while Johnnie, hu capmg from a snake on the floor. "I don't want to fightl" eyes gleaming with joy, chuckled and chuckled. he shouted. "I don't want to fightl" Because of the absorbing play none considered the ~he cowboy. stretched his l?ng legs indolently and strange ways of the Swede. They paid strict heed to delIberately. HIS hands were III his pockets. He spat 3110 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HO'IEL- 331 into the sawdust-box. "Well. who the hell thought you Johnnie's voice was loud with its burden of griev did?" he inquired. ance. "Why, good Gawd, I ain't done nothin' to 'im." The Swede backed rapidly toward a. corner of tt:e The Swede broke in. "Gentlemen, do not disturb room. His hands were out protectingly m front of his yourselves. I will leave this house. I will go away, be chest but he was· making an obvious struggle to control Cause"-he accused them dramatically with his glance his f;ight. "Gentlemen," he quavered, "~ suppose I am -"because I do not want to be killed." going to be killed before I can leave thiS house I I sul?" Scully was furious with his son. "Will you tell me ose I am going to be kill~d before I can leave thiS what is the matter, you young divil? What's the mat house," In his eyes was the dymg-swan look. Through the ter, anyhow? Speak outl" windows could be seen the snow turning blue in the "Blame it!" cried Johnnie in despair, "don't I tell shadow of dusk. The wind tore at the house, and some you I don't know? He-he says we want to kill him, loose thing beat regularly against the clapboards like a and that's all I know. I can't tell what ails him." spirit tapping. The Swede continued to repeat: "Never mind, Mr. A door opened, and Scully hi~self ~ntered. He paused Scully; never mind. I will leave this house. I will go in surprise as he noted the tragic attitude of the Swede. away, because I do not wish to be killed. Yes, of course, Then he said, "What's the matter here?" I am crazy-yes. But I know one thingl I will go away. The Swede answered him swiftly and eagerly: "These I will leave this house. Never mind, Mr. Scully; never men are going to kill me." mind. I will go away." "Kill youl" ejaculated Scully. "Kill youl What ~ "You will not go 'way," said Scully. "You will not you talkin'?" go 'way until I hear the reason of this business. If any The Swede made the gesture of a martyr. body has troubled you I will take care of him. This is Scully wheeled sternly upon his son. "What is this, my house. You are under my roof, and I will not allow Johnnie?" ...... any peaceable man to be troubled here." He cast a ter The lad had groWn sullen. Damned If I know, he rible'eye upon Johnnie, the cowboy, and the Easterner. answered. "I can't make no sense to it." He. began to "Never mind, Mr. Scully; never mind. I will go shuffie the cards fluttering them together With an an away. I do not wish to be killed." The Swede moved ~y snap. "He s~ys a go~d m~ny men have been kill~ toward the door which opened upon the stairs. It was m this room, or somethmg hke that. And he s~ys ~e s e-t.idently his intention to go at once for his baggage. goin' to be killed here too. I don't know what ads hun. "No, no," shouted Scully peremptorily; but the white He's crazy, I shouldn't wonder." faced man slid by him and disappeared. "Now," said Scully then looked· for explanation to the cowbo~. Scully severely, "what does this mane?" .but the cowboy simply shrugged his shoulders. . Johnnie and the cowboy cried together: "Why, we "Kill you?" said Scully again to the Swede. "Kill you? didn't do nothin' to'iml" Man, you're off your nut." Scully's eyes were cold. "No," he said, "you didn't?" "Oh, I know," burst out the Swede. "I know whx Johnnie swore a deep oath. "Why, this is the wildest will happen. Yes, I'm crazy-yes. Yes, of course, r. loon I ever see. We didn't do nothin' at all. We were crazy-yes. But I know one thing-" There was a sort jest sittin' here playin' cards, and he-" of sweat of misery and terror upon his face. "I know I The father suddenly spoke to the Easterner. "Mr. won't get out of here alive." Blanc," he asked, "what has these boys been doin'?" The cowboy drew a deep breath, as if his mind .... The Easterner reflected again. "I didn't see anything passing into the last stages of dissolution. "Well, r. wrong at all," he said at last, slowly. doggoned," he whispered to himself. Scully began to howl. "But what does it mane?" He Scully wheeled suddenly and faced his son. "you.... aared ferociously at his son. "I have a mind to lather been troublin' this manl" JOU for this, me boy." 332 GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL !l33 Johnnie was frantic. "Well, what have I done?" he the four churches and the smashin' big brick school bawled at his father. house. Then there's the big factory, too. Why, in two years Romper'll be a met-tro-pol-is." Having finished the preparation of his baggage, the III Swede straightened himself. "Mr. Scully," he said, with * * sudden hardihood, "how much do I owe you?" "I think you are tongue-tied," said Scully finally "You don't owe me anythin'," said the old man, an to his son, the cowboy, and the Easterner; and at the end grily. of this scornful sentence he left the room. "Yes, I do," retorted the Swede. He took seventy Upstairs the Swede was swiftly fastening the straps five cents from his pocket and tendered it to Scully; but of his great valise. Once his back happened to be half the latter snapped his fingers in disdainful refusal. turned toward the door, and, hearing a noise there, he However, it happened that they both stood gazing in a wheeled and sprang up, uttering a loud cry. Scully's strange fashion at three silver pieces on the Swede's wrinkled visage showed grimly in the light of the small open palm. lamp he carried. This yellow effulgence, streaming up "I'll not take your money," said Scully at last. "Not ~rd, coloured only his prominent features, and left his after what's been goin' on here." Then a plan seemed to eyes, for instance, in mysterious shadow. He resembled strike him. "Here," he cried, picking up his lamp and a murderer. moving toward the door. "Herel Come with me a min "Manl manl" he exclaimed, "have you gone daffy?" ute." "Oh, nol Oh, nol" rejoined the other. "There are "No," said the Swede, in overwhelming alarm. people in this world who know pretty nearly as much "Yes," urged the old man. "Come onl I want you to as you do-understand?" come and see a picter-just across the hall-in my For a moment they stood gazing at each other. Upon room." the Swede's deathly pale cheeks were two spots brightly The Swede must have concluded that his hour was crimson and sharply edged, as if they had been care come. His jaw dropped and his teeth showed like a dead fully painted. Scully placed the light on the table man's. He ultimately followed Scully across the corri and sat himself on the edge of the bed. He spoke dor, but he had the step of one hung in chains. ruminatively. "By cracky, I never heard of such a thing Scully flashed the light high on the wall of his own in my life. It's a complete muddle. I can't, for the soul chamber. There was revealed a ridiculous photograph of me, think how you ever got this idea into your of a little girl. She was leaning against a balustrade of head." Presently he lifted his eyes and asked: "And did gorgeous decoration, and the formidable bang to her you sure think they were going to kill you?" hair was prominent. The figure was as graceful as an The Swede scanned the old man as if he wished to see upright sled-stake, and, withal, it was of the hue of into his mind. "I did," he said at last. He obviously lead. "There," said Scully, tenderly, "that's the picter suspected that this answer might precipitate an out of my little girl that died. Her name was Carrie. She break. As he pulled on a strap his whole arm shook, the had the purtiest l1air you ever sawl I was that fond of elbow wavering like a bit of paper. her, she-" Scully banged his hand impressively on the foot Turning then, he saw that the Swede was not con board of the bed. "Why, man, we're goin' to have a line templating the picture at all, but, instead, was keeping of ilictric street-cars in this town next spring." keen watch on the gloom in the rear. "'A line of electric street-cars,'" repeated the Swede, "Look: manl" cried S~ully, heartily. "That's the picter stupidly. of my httle gal that dIed. Her name was Carrie. And "And," said Scully, "there's a new railroad goin' to then here's the picter of my oldest boy, Michael. He's be built down from Broken Arm to here. Not to mintion a lawyer in Lincoln, an' doin' well. I gave that boy 334 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - !35 a grand eddication, and I'm glad for it now. He's a "Well, what is he then?" cried Johnnie. "What is he fine boy. Look at 'im now. Ain't he bold as blazes, him then?" there in Lincoln, an honoured an' res pic ted gintleman! "It's my opinion," replied the cowboy deliberately, An' honoured and respicted gintleman," concluded Scully "he's some kmd of a Dutchman." It was a venerable with a flourish. And, so saying, he smote the Swede custom of the country to entitle as Swedes all light. jovially on the back. haired men who spoke with a heavy tongue. In conse The Swede faintly smiled. quence the idea of the cowboy was not without its "Now," said the old man, "there's only one more daring. "Yes, sir," he repeated. "It's my opinion this fel thing." He dropped suddenly to the floor and thru~t ler is some kind of a Dutchman," his head beneath the bed. The Swede could hear hIS "Well, he says he's a Swede, anyhow," muttered muffled voice. "I'd keep it under me piller if it wasn't Johnnie, sulkily. He turned to the Easterner: "What for that boy Johnnie. Then there's the old woman do you think, Mr, Blanc?" Where is it now? I never put it twice in the same place. "Oh, I don't know," replied the Easterner. Ah, now come out with youl" "Well, what do you think makes him act that way?" Presently he backed clumsily from under the bed, asked the cowboy. ,dragging with him an old coat rolled into a bundle. "Why, he's frightened." The Easterner knocked his "I've fetched him," he muttered. Kneeling on the Hoor, pipe against a rim of the stove. "He's dear frightened he unrolled the coat and extracted from its heart a out of his boots." large yellow-brown whisky-bottle. "What at?" cried Johnnie and the cowboy together. His first manreuvre was to hold the bottle up to the The Easterner reflected over his answer. light. Reassured, apparently, that nobody had been "What at?" cried the others again. tampering with it, he thrust it with a generous move "Oh, I don't know, but it seems to me this man has ment toward the Swede. been reading dime novels, and he thinks he's right out The weak-kneed Swede was about to eagerly clutch in the middle of it-the shootin' and stabbin' and all." this element of strength, but he suddenly jerked his "But," said the cowboy, deeply scandalized, "this ain't hand away and cast a look of horror upon Scully. \Vyoming, ner none of them places. This is Nebrasker." "Drink," said the old man affectionately. He had "Yes," added Johnnie, "an' why don't he wait till he risen to his feet, and now stood facing the Swede. gits out West?" There was a silence. Then again Scully said: The travelled Easterner laughed. "It isn't different "DrinkI " there even-not in these days. But he thinks he's right The Swede laughed wildly. He grabbed the bottle. in the middle of hell." put it to his mouth; and as his lips curled absurdl.~ Johnnie and the cowboy mused long. around the opening and his throat worked, he kept his "It's awful funny," remarked Johnnie at last. glance, burning with hatred, upon the old man's face. "Yes," said the cowboy. "This is a queer game. I hope we don't git snowed in, because then we'd have to stand this here man bein' around with us all the time. That wouldn't be no good." IV "I wish pop would throw him out," said Johnnie. * * Presently they heard a loud stamping on the stairs, AFTER the departure of Scully the three mea. aa:ompanied by ringing jokes in the voice of old Scully, with the.card-board still upo~ their knees, yreser,ved ~ :aDd laughter. evidently from the Swede. The men a long tIme an astounded sIlence. Then Johnme said; .-ound the stove stared vacantly at each other. "Goshl" "That's the dod-dangedest Swede I ever see." aid the cowboy. The door Hew open, and old Scully, "He ain't no Swede," said the cowboy, scornfully. ~ed and anecdotal, came into the room. He Was 886 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - 337 jabbering at the Swede, who followed him, laughing right now, but I don't see it. Other times he was scared, bravely. It was the entry of two roisterers from a banquet but now he's too fresh." hall. Scully's speech was always a combination of Irish "Come now," said Scully sharply to the three ,~ated brogue and idiom, Western twang and idiom, and scraps men, "move up and give us a chance a~ the sto,:e. T~e of curiously formal diction taken from the story-books cowboy and the Easterner obediently sIdled theIr chaIrs and newspapers. He now hurled a strange mass of to make room for the new-comers. Johnnie, however, language at the head of his son. "What do I keep? simply arranged himself in a more indolent attitude, What do I keep? What do I keep?" he demanded, and then remained motionless. in a voice of thunder. He slapped his knee impressively, "Come! Git over, there," said Scully. to indicate that he himself was going to make reply, "Plenty of room on the other side of the stove," said and that all should heed. "I keep a hotel," he shouted. Johnnie. . . " "A hotel, do you mind? A guest under my roof has "Do you think we want to SIt In the draught? sacred privileges. He is to be intimidated by none. roared the father. Not one word shall he hear that would prijudice him But the Swede here interposed with a grandeur of in favour of goin' away. I'll not have it. There's no place confidence. "No, no. Let the boy sit where he likes," he in this here town where they can say they iver took in cried in a bullying voice to the father. a guest of mine because he was afraid to stay here." He "All rightl All right!" said Scully, deferentially. The wheeled suddenly upon the cowboy and the Easterner. cowboy and the Easterner exchanged glances of wonder. "Am I right?" The five chairs were formed in a crescent about one "Yes, Mr. Scully," said the cowboy, "I think you're side of the stove. The Swede began to talk; he talked ri~?t." arrogantly, profanely, angrily. Johnnie, the cowboy, and Yes, Mr. Scully," said the Easterner, "I think you're the Easterner maintained a morose silence, while old right." Scully appeared to be receptive and eager, breaking in constantly with sympathetic ejaculations. . Finally the Swede announced that he was thIrsty. He moved in his chair, and said that he would go for a drink of water. * V * ''I'll git it for you," cried Scully at once. " . . AT six o'clock supper, the Swede fizzed like a "No," said the Swede, contemptuously. I II get It fire-wheel. He sometimes seemed on the point of burst for myself." He arose and stalked with the air of an ing into riotous song, and in all his madness he was owner off into the executive parts of the hotel. encouraged by old Scully. The Easterner was encased As soon as the Swede was out of hearing Scully in reserve; the cowboy sat in wide-mouthed amaze sprang to his feet and whispered intensely to the others: ment, forgetting to eat, while Johnnie wrathily demol· "Upstairs he thought I was tryin' to poison 'im." ished great plates of food. The daughters of the house, "Say," said Johnnie, "this makes me sick. Why don't when they were obliged to replenish the biscuits, ap you throw 'im out in the snow?" proached as warily as Indians, and, having succeeded "Why, he's all right now," declared Scully. "It was in their purpose fled with ill-concealed trepidation. only that he was from the East, and he thought this The Swede demineered the whole feast, and he gave was a tough place. That's all. He's all right now." it the appearance of a cruel bacchanal. He seemed to The cowboy looked with admiration upon the East have grown suddenly taller; he gazed, brutally disdain erner. "You were straight," he said. "You were on to that ful, into every face. His voice rang through the room. there Dutchman." Once when he jabbed out harpoon-fashion with his "Well," said Johnnie to his father, "he may be all fork to pinion a biscuit, the weapon nearly impaled the 338 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - 339 hand of the Easterner, which had been stretched quietly mained immersed in matters which were extraordinarily out for the same biscuit. remote from him. The lamp burned badly, and once he After supper, as the men filed toward the other room, stopped to adjust the wick. The newspaper, as he the Swede smote Scully ruthlessly on the shoulder. uWell, turned from page to page, rustled with a slow and com old boy, that was a good, square meal." Johnnie looked fortable sound. Then suddenly he heard three terrible hopefully at his father; he knew that shoulder was words: "You are cheatinT' tender from an old fall; and, indeed, it appeared for Such scenes often prove that there can be little of a moment as if Scully was going to flame out over the dramatic import in environment. Any room can present matter, but in the end he. smiled a sickly smile and a tragic front; any room can be comic. This little den remained silent. The others understood from his man was now hideous as a torture-chamber. The new faces of ner that he was admitting his responsibility for the the men themselves had changed it upon the instant. Swede's new view-point. The Swede held a huge fist in front of Johnnie'S face, Johnnie, however, addressed his parent in an aside. while the latter looked steadily over it into the blazing "Why don't you license somebody to kick you down orbs of his accuser. The Easterner had grown pallid; stairs?" Scully scowled darkly by way of reply. the cowboy's jaw had dropped in that expression of When they were gathered about the stove, the Swede bovine amazement which was one of his important man insisted on another game of High-Five. Scully gently nerisms. After the three words, the first sound in the deprecated the plan at first, but the Swede turned a room was made by Scully's paper as it floated forgot wolfish glare upon him. The old man subsided, and the ten to his feet. His spectacles had also fallen from his Swede canvassed the others. In his tone there was al nose, but by a clutch he had saved them in air. His ways a great threat. The cowboy and the Easterner bo~h hand, grasping the spectacles, now remained poised remarked indifferently that they would play. Scully saId 4lwkwardly and near his shoulder. He stared at the that he would presently have to go to mc:et the 6.58 card-pIa yers. train and so the Swede turned menacmgly upon Probably the silence was while a second elapsed. John~ie. For a moment their glances crossed like Then, if the floor had been suddenly twitched out from blades, and then Johnnie smiled and said, "Yes, I'll under the men they could not have moved quicker. The play." fh'e had projected themselves headlong toward a com 'They formed a square, Witll the little board ?n their mon point. It happened that Johnnie, in rising to hurl knees. The Easterner and the Swede were agam part himself upon the Swede, had stumbled slightly because ners. As the play went on, it was noticeable that the of his curiously instinctive care for the cards and the cowboy was not board-whacking as usual. Meanwhile, board. The loss of the moment allowed time for the Scully, near the lamp, had put on his specta:les and, .urival of Scully, and also allowed the cowboy time to with an appearance curiously like an old priest, was give the Swede a great/ush which sent him staggering reading a newspaper. In time he went out to meet the back. The men foun tongue together, and hoarse 6.58 train, and, despite his precautions, a gust of polar ibouts of rage, appeal, or fear burst from every throat. wind whirled into the room as he opened the door. Be. The cowboy pushed and jostled feverishly at the Swede, sides scattering the cards, it chilled the players to the and the Easterner and Scully clung wildly to Johnnie; marrow. The Swede cursed frightfully. When Scully bot through the smoky air, above the swaying bodies returned, his entrance disturbed a cosy and friendly of the peace-compellers, the eyes of the two warriors scene. The Swede again cursed. But presently they e'f'et' sought each other in glances of challenge that were were once more intent, their heads bent forward and ..once hot and steely. their hands moving swiftly. The Swede had adopted the Of course the board had been overturned, and now fashion of board-whacking. - whole company of cards was scattered over the Scully took up his paper and for a long time reo Iaor, where the boots of the men trampled the fat and 340 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL-S41 painted kings and queens as they gazed with their silly "Then," said Johnnie, "we must fight." eyes at the war that was waging above them. "Yes, fight," roared the Swede. He was like a de Scully's voice was dominating the yells. "Stop nowl moniac. "Yes, fightl I'll show you what kind of a man I Stop, I sayl Stop, now-" ami I'll show you who you want to fight 1 Maybe you Johnnie, as he struggled to burst through the rank think I can't fightI Maybe you think I can't! I'll show formed by Scully and the Easterner, was crying, you, you skin, you card-sharp 1 Yes, you cheated! You "Well. he says I cheated! He says I cheated I I won't cheatedI You cheated I " allow no man to say I cheatedl If he says I cheated, "Well. let's go at it, then, mister," said Johnnie, he's a ----I" coolly. The cowboy was telling the Swede, "Quit, now! Quit, The cowboy's brow was beaded with sweat from his d'ye hear-" efforts in intercepting all sorts of raids. He turned in The screams of the Swede never ceased: "He did despair to Scully. "What are you goin' to do now?" cheat! I saw himl I saw him-" A change had come over the Celtic visage of the old As for the Easterner, he was importuning in a voice man. He now seemed all eagerness; his eyes glowed. that was not heeded: "Wait a moment, can't you? Oh. "We'll let them fight," he answered, stalwartly. "I wait a moment. What's the good of a fight over a game can't put up with it any longer. I've stood this damned of cards? Wait a moment-" Swede till I'm sick. We'll let them fight." In this tumult no complete sentences were clear. "Cheat"-"Quit"-"He says"-these fragments pierced the uproar and rang out sharply. It was remarkable that, VI whereas Scully undoubtedly made the most noise. he was * * the least heard of any of the riotous band. THE men prepared to go out of doors. The Then suddenly there was a great cessation. It was as Easterner was so nervous that he had great difficulty if each man had paused for breath; and although the in getting his arms into the sleeves of bis new leather room was still lighted with the anger of men, it could coat. As the cowboy drew his fur cap down over his be seen that there was no danger of immediate conflict, ears his hands trembled. In fact, Johnnie and old Scully and at once Johnnie, shouldering his way forward, al were the only ones who displayed no agitation. These most succeeded in confronting the Swede. "What did preliminaries were conducted without words. you say I cheated for? What did you say I cheated Scully threw open the door. "Well, come on," he for? I don't cheat, and I won't let no man say I dol" said. Instantly a terrific wind caused the flame of the The Swede said, "I saw you I I saw youl" lamp to struggle at its wick, while a puff of black "Well," cried Johnnie, "I'll fight any man what says smoke sprang from the chimney top. The stove was in I cheatl" mid-current of the blast, and its voice swelled to equal "No, you won't," said the cowboy. "Not here." the roar of the storm. Some of the scarred and be "Ah, be still, can't you?" said Scully, coming be dabbled cards were caught up from the floor and tween them. dashed helplessly against the farther wall. The men The quiet was sufficient to allow the Easterner's !owered their heads and plunged into the tempest as voice to be heard. He was repeating, "Oh, wait a mo mto a sea. ment, can't you? What's the good of a fight over a No snow was falling, but great whirls and clouds of game of cards? Wait a momentl" flakes. swept up from the ground by the frantic winds. Johnnie, his red face appearing a!?ove his father'S were screaming southward with the speed of bullets. shoulder, hailed the Swede again. "Did you say I The covered land was blue with the sheen of an cheated?" unearthly satin, and there was no other hue save where, The Swede showed his teeth. "Yes." at the low, black railway station-which- seemed incred 342 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - 343 ibly distant-one light gleamed like a tiny jewel. As heroic. The entire prelude had in it a tragedy greater the men floundered into a thigh-deep drift, it was than the tragedy of action, and this aspect was accen known that the Swede was bawling out something. tuated by the long, mellow. ~ry of the.blizzard, as it Scully went to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and sped the tumbling and wallmg flakes mto the black projected an ear. "What's that you say?" he shouted. abyss of the south. "I say," bawled the Swede again, "I won't stand "Now!" said Scully. much show against this gang. I know you'll all pitch on The two combatants leaped forward and crash~d to me." gether like bullocks. There was heard the cushIOned Scully smote him reproachfully on the arm. "Tut, sound of blows, and of a curse squeezing out from be man!" he yelled. The wind tore the words from Scully's tween the tight teeth of one. lips and scattered them far alee. As for the spectators,. the Easterne~'s pent-up "You are all a gang of-" boomed the Swede, but breath exploded from him WIth a P?P .of r~lIef, absolute the storm also seized the remainder of this sentence. relief from the tension of the prelImmarIes. The c~w Immediately turning their backs upon the wind, the boy bounded into the air with a yowl. Scully was Im men had swung around a corner to the sheltered side of movable as from supreme amazement and fe~r at the the hotel. It was the function of the little house to pre fury of the fight which he himself had permltted and serve here, amid this great devastation of snow, an ir arranged. regular V-shape of heavily encrusted grass, which For a time the encounter in the darkness was such a crackled beneath the feet. One could imagine the great perplexity of flying arms that it presented no more drifts piled against the windward side. When the party detail than would a swiftly revolving wheel. Occa reached the comparative peace of this spot it was found sionally a face, as if illumined by a flash of light, would that the Swede was still bellowing. shine out, ghastly and marked with pink spots. A mo "Oh, I know what kind of a thing this is! I know ment later, the men might have been known as shadows, you'll all pitch on me. I can't lick you alII" if it were not for the involuntary utterance of oaths Scully turned upon him panther-fashion. "You'll not that came from them in whispers. have to whip all of us. You'll have to whip my son Suddenly a holocaust of warlike desire caught the Johnnie. An' the man what troubles you durin' that cowboy, and he bolted forward with the speed of a time will have me to dale with." broncho. "Go it, Johnniel go it! Kill him! Kill him!" The arrangements were swiftly made. The two men Scully confronted him. "Kape back," he said; and by faced each other, obedient to the harsh commands of his glance the cowboy could tell that this man was Scully, whose face, ,in the subtly luminous gloom, could Johnnie's father. be seen set in the austere impersonal lines that are pic To the Easterner there was a monotony of unchange tured on the countenances of the Roman veterans. The able fighting that was an abomination. This confused Easterner's teeth were chattering, and he was hopping mingling was eternal to his sense, w~ich was concen up and down like a mechanical toy. The cowboy stood trated in a longing for the end, the prIceless end. Once rock-like. the fighters lurched near him, and as he scrambled The contestants had not stripped off any clothing. hastily backward he heard them breathe like men on the Each was in his ordinary attire. Their fists were up, rack. and they eyed each other in a calm that had the ele "Kill him, Johnnie! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" ments of leonine cruelty in it. The cowboy's face was contorted like one of those During this pause, the Easterner's mind, like a film, agony masks in museums. took lasting impressions of three men-the iron·nerved "Keep still," said Scully, icily. master of the ceremony; the Swede, pale, motionless, Then there was a sudden loud grunt, incomplete, cut terrible; and Johnnie, serene yet ferocious, brutish yet short, and Johnnie's body swung away from the Swede 344 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - 345 and fell with sickening heaviness to the grass. The cow a moment he answered. "No--I ain't-any good-any boy was barely in time to prevent the mad Swede from -more." Then, from shame and bodily ill, he began to flinging himself upon his prone adversary. "No, you weep, the tears furrowing down through the blood don't," said the cowboy, interposing an arm. "Wait a stains on his face. "He was too--too--too heavy for second." me." Scully was at his son's side. "JohnnieI Tohnnie, me Scully straightened and addressed the waiting figure. boy!" His voice had a quality of melancholy tender "Stranger," he said, evenly, "it's. all up with our side." ness. "Johnniel Can you go on with it?" He looked Then his voice changed into that vibrant huskiness anxiously down into the bloody, pulpy face of his son. which is commonly the tone of the most simple and There was a moment of silence, and then Johnnie an deadly announcements. "Johnnie is whipped." swered in his ordinary voice, "Yes, I-it-yes." Without replying, the victor moved off on the route Assisted by his father he struggled to his feet. to the front door of the hotel. "Wait a bit now till you git your wind," said the old The cowboy was formulating new and unspellable man. blasphemies. The Easterner was startled to find that A few paces away the cowboy was lecturing the they were out in a wind that- seemed to come. direct Swede. "No, you don't! Wait a second!" from the shadowed arctic floes. He heard again the wail The Easterner was plucking at Scully's sleeve. "Oh, of the snow as it was flung to its grave in the south. He this is enough," he pleaded. "This is enoughI Let it go knew now that all this time the cold had been sinking as it stands. This is enoughl" into him deeper and deeper, and he wondered that he "Bill," said Scully, "git out of the road." The cow had not perished. He felt indifferent to the condition of boy stepped aside. "Now." The combatants were ac the vanquished man. tuated by a new caution as they advanced toward colli "Johnnie, can you walk?" asked Scully. sion. They glared at each other, and then the Swede "Did I hurt-hurt him any?" asked the son. aimed a lightning blow that carried with it his entire "Can you walk, boy? Can you walk?" weight. Johnnie was evidently half stupid from weak Johnnie's voice was suddenly strong: There was a ness, but he miraculously dodged, and his fist sent the robust impatience in it. "I asked you whether I hurt overbalanced Swede sprawling. him anyl" The cowboy, Scully, and the Easterner burst into a "Yes, yes, Johnnie," answered the cowboy, consol cheer that was like a chorus of triumphant soldiery, ingly; "he's hurt a good deal." but before its conclusion the Swede had scuffled agilely They raised him from the ground, and as soon as he to his feet and come in berserk abandon at his foe. was on his feet he went tottering off, rebuffing all at· There was another perplexity of flying arms, and tempts at assistance. When the party rounded the cor Johnnie's body again swung away and fell, even as a ner they were fairly blinded by the pelting of the snow. bundle might fall from a roof. The Swede instantly It burned their faces like fire. The cowboy carried staggered to a little wind-waved tree and leaned upon Johnnie through the drift to the door. As they entered, it, breathing like an engine, while his savage and flame· some cards again rose from the floor and beat against lit eyes roamed from face to face as the men bent over the wall. Johnnie. There was a splendour of isolation in his situ The Easterner rushed to the stove. He was so pro ation at this time which the Easterner felt once when, foundly chilled that he almost dared to embrace the lifting his eyes from the man on the ground, he beheld glowing iron. The Swede was not in the room. Johnnie that mysterious and lonely figure, waiting. sank into a chair and, folding his arms on his knees, "Are you any good yet, Johnnie?" asked Scully in a buried his face in them. Scully, warming one foot and broken voice. then the other at a rim of the stove, muttered to him· The son gasped and opened his eyes languidly. After self with Celtic mournfulness. The cowboy had removed 846 - GREAT SHOR.T WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - 347 his fur cap, and with a dazed and rueful air he was lendy, at Scully, "I s'pose you'll tell me now how much running one hand through his tousled locks. From over lowe you?" head they could hear the creaking of boards, as the The old man remained stolid. "You don't owe me Swede tramped here and there in his room. nothin'." The sad quiet was broken by the sudden flinging "Huhl" said the Swede, "huh! Don't owe 'im open of a door that led toward the kitchen. It was in· nothin'." stantly followed by an inrush of women. They precipi. The cowboy addressed the Swede. "Stranger, I don't tated themselves upon Johnnie amid a chorus of lam· see how you come to be so gay around here." entation. Before they carried their prey off to the Ol~ Sc~lly was instantly alert. "Stopl" he shouted, kitchen, there to be bathed and harangued with that holdmg hIS hand forth, fingers upward. "Bill, you shut mixture of sympathy and abuse which is a feat of their up!" sex, the mother straightened herself and fixed old The cowboy spat carelessly into the sawdust-box. "I Scully with an eye of stern reproach. "Shame be upon didn't say a word, did n" he asked. you, Patrick Scully!" she cried. "Your own son, too. "Mr. Scully," called the Swede, "how much do I owe Shame be upon you!" you?" It was seen that he was attired for departure, "There, nowl Be quiet, nowl" said the old man, and that he had his valise in his hand. weakly. "Yo.u don't owe me nothin'," repeated Scully in the "Shame be upon you, Patrick Scullyl" The girls, sa~e Im~,ertu~bable way. rallying to this slogan, sniffed disdainfully in the direc H~hl. said the Swede. "I guess you're right. I tion of those trembling accomplices, the cowboy and the guess If It was any way at all, you'd owe me somethin'. Easterner. Presently they bore Johnnie away, and left That's what I guess." He turned to the cowboy. "'Kill the three men to dismal reflection. himl Kill him! Kill himl'" he mimicked, and then guffawed victoriously... 'Kill him!''' He was convulsed with ironical humour. VII But he might have been jeering the dead. The three * * men were immovable and silent, staring with glassy ''I'D LlKE to fight this here Dutchman myself," eyes at the stove. said the cowboy, breaking a long silence. The Swede opened the door and passed into the Scully wagged his head sadly. "No, that wouldn't storm, giving one derisive glance backward at the still do. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be right." group. "Well, why wouldn't it?" argued the cowboy. "I As soon as the door was closed, Scully and the cow don't see no harm in it." boy leaped to their feet. and ~egan to curse. They "No," answered Scully, with mournful heroism. "It trampled to and fro, wavmg their arms and smashing wouldn't be right. It was Johnnie's fight, and now we into the air with their fists. "Oh, but that was a hard mustn't whip the man just because he whipped John. minute!" wailed Scully. "That was a hard minutel Him nie." there leerin' and scoffin'l One bang at his nose was "Yes, that's true enough," said the cowboy; "but worth forty dollars to me that minute! How did you he better not get fresh with me, because I couldn't stand it, Bill?" stand no more of it." "How did I stand it?" cried the cowboy in a quiv "You'll not say a word to him," commanded Scully, ering voice. "How did I stand it? Ohl" and even then they heard the tread of the Swede on the The old man burst into sudden brogue. "I'd loike to stairs. His entrance was made theatric. He swept the take that Swade," he wailed, "and hould 'im down on a door- back with a bang and swaggered to the middle of shtone flure and bate 'im to a jelly wid a shtickl" the room. No one looked at him. 'Well," he cried, inso- The COWboy groaned in sympathy. "I'd like to git 348 - Gl!.EAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL - 349 him by the neck and ha-ammer him"-he brought his one side of the room extended a radiant bar, and its hand down on a chair with a noise like a pistol-shot guardian was leaning upon his elbows listening to the "hammer that there Dutchman until he couldn't tell talk of the men at the table. The Swede dropped his himself from a dead coyote!" valise upon the Hoor and. smiling fraternally upon the ''I'd bate 'im until he-" barkeeper, said, "Gimme some whisky, will you?" The "I'd show him some things--" man placed a bottle, a whisky.glass, and a glass of ice And then together they raised a yearning, fanatic thick water upon the bar. The Swede poured himself an cry-"Oh-o.ohl if we only could-" abnorntal portion of whisky and drank it in three "YesJ" gulps. "Pretty bad night," remarked the bartender, "Yesl" indIfferently. He was making the pretension of blind "And then I'd-" ness which is usually a distinction of his class; but it "O·o-ohl" could have been seen that he was furtively studying the half-erased blood-stains on the face of the Swede. "Bad night," he said again. *' VIII *' "Oh, it's good enough for me," replied ,the Swede, hardily, as he poured himself some more whisky. The THE Swede, tightly gripping his valise, tacked barkeeper took his coin and manreuvred it through its across the face of the storm as if he carried sails. He reception by the highly nickelled cash-machine. A bell was following a line of little naked, grasping trees which, rang; a card labelled "20 cts." had appeared. he knew. must mark the way of the road. His face. fresh "No," continued the Swede, "this isn't too bad from the pounding of Johnnie's fists, felt more pleasure weather. It's good enough for me." than pain in the wind and the driving snow. A number "So?" murmured the barkeeper, languidly. of square shapes loomed upon him finally. and he knew The copious drams made the Swede's eyes swim, and them as the houses of the main body of the town. He he breathed a triHe heavier. "Yes, I like this weather. I found a street and made travel along it, leaning heavily like it. It suits me." It was apparently his design to upon the wind whenever. at a corner, a terrific blast impart a deep significance to these words. caught him. . . . "So?" murmured the bartender again. He turned to e might have been m a deserted Village. We plcture gaze dreamily at the scroll· like birds and bird-like the world as thick with conquering and elate humanity. scrolls which had been drawn with soap upon the mir but here, with the bugles of the tempest pealing, it was rors in back of the bar. hard to imagine a peopled earth. One viewed the exist "Well, I guess I'll take another drink," said the ence of man then as a marvel, and conceded a glamour Swede, presently. "Have something?" of wonder to these lice which were caused to cling to "No, thanks; I'm not drinkin'," answered the bar a whirling. fire-smitten, ice-locked, disease-stricken. space-' tender. ,Afterward he asked, "How did you hurt your lost bulb. The conceit of man was explained by this face?" storm to be the very engine of life. One was a cox The Swede immediately began to boast loudly. comb not to die in it. However, the Swede found a sa· "Why, in a fight. I thumped the soul out of a man loon. down here at Scully's hotel." 'In front of it an indomitable red light was burning, The interest of the four men at the table was at last and the snowHakes were made blood-colour as they Hew aroused. through the circumscribed territory of the lamp's "Who was it?" said one. shining. The Swede pushed open the door of the saloon "Johnnie Scully," blustered the Swede. "Son of the and entered. A sanded expanse was before him. and at man what runs it. He will be pretty near dead for some the end of it four men sat about a table drinking. Down weeks, I can tell you. I made a nice thing of him, I did. 350 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL- 351 He couldn't get up. They carried him in the house. friends more desperately partisan. He invariably dis Have a drink?" tinguished between himself and a respectable Romper Insta,ntly the me,? in some subtle way encased them man so quickly and frankly that his manner actually selves m r~serve, No" thanks," said one, The group appeared to be a continual broadcast compliment. was, of curIOUS formatIOn. Two were prominent local And one must not forget to declare the fundamental busmess men; ,one was the district attorney; and one fact of his entire position in Romper. It is irrefutable was a professIOnal gambler of the kind known as that in all affairs outside his business, in all matters "square." But a scrutiny of the group would not have that occur eternally and commonly between man and enabled an observer to pick the gambler from the men man, this thieving card-player was so generous, so just, of :nore ,reputable pursuits, He was, in fact, a man so so moral,. that, in a. contest, he could .have put to Hight the conSCIences of mne tenths of the Citizens of Romper. delIcate ,m .~anne,r, w~en a:nong p~ol?le of fair class, an? so JUdiCIOUS m hIS chOIce of VICtImS, that in the And so it happened that he was seated in this saloon strictly masculine part of the town's life he had come with the two prominent local merchants and the dis to be explicitly trusted and admired. People called him ukt attorney. a thoroughbred. The fear and contempt with which his Th~ Swede continued to drink raw whisky, meanwhile babblmg at the barkeeper and trying to induce him to c~aft :vas ~eg~ded were undoubtedly the reason why indulge in potations. "Come on. Have a drink. Come h~s qUIet dIgnIty sh~me conspicuous above the quiet dig mty of men who mIght be merely hatters, billiard-mark on. What-no? Well, have a little one, then. By gawd, ers, or grocery clerks. Beyond an occasional unwary I've whipped a man to-night, and I want to celebrate. I traveller who came by rail, this gambler was supposed whipped him good, too. Gentlemen," the Swede cried to to prey solely upon reckless and senile farmers who the men at the table, "have a drink?" w~en Hush with good crops, drove into town in ~ll th~ "Sshl" said the barkeeper. pride and confidence of an absolutely invulnerable stu The group at the table, although furtively attentive, pidity. Hearing at times in circuitous fashion of the de ~ad bee~ pretending to be deep in talk, but now a man lIfted hiS eyes toward the Swede and said, shortly. ~oilmen~ of.such a farme~, the important men of om£er mvariably laughed m contempt of the victim, 'Thanks. We don't want any more." and I.f they thought of the wolf at all, it was with a kind At this reply the Swede ruffled out his chest like a of pnde at the knowledge that he would never dare think rooster. "Well," he exploded, "it seems I can't get any of attacking their wisdom and courage. Besides, it was body to drink with me in this town. Seems so, don't it? po}?ular that this gambler had a real wife and two real Well/" children in a neat cottage in a suburb, where he led "Sshl" said the barkeeper. "Say," snarled the Swede, "don't you try to shut me an exempl,?,y home li~e; a~d when anyone even sug gested a discrepancy m hIS character, the crowd im up. I. won'~ have it. I'm a gentleman, and I want people mediately vociferated descriptions of this virtuous to drmk w~th me. And I want 'em to drink with me now. Now----do you understand?" He rapped the bar with family circle. Th~n men who led exemplary home lives, and .men. who dId not lead exemplary home lives, all his knuckles. subSIded m a bunch, remarking that there was nothing Years of experience had calloused the bartender: He more to be said. merely grew sulky. "I hear you," he answered. "Well," cried the Swede, "listen hard then. See those How~ver, when a restriction was placed upon him as, for mstance, when a strong clique of members of the .men over there? Well, they're going to drink with me, new Pollywog Club refused to permit him, even as a and don't you forget it. Now you watch," spectator, to appear in the rooms of the organization "Hil" yelled the barkeeper. "this won't dol" "Why won't it?" demanded the Swede. He stalked -th~ candour ~nd gentleness with which he accepted the Judgment disarmed many of his foes and made his over to the table. and by chance laid his hand upon the 352 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE THE BLUE HOTEL- 858 shoulder of the gambler. "How about this?" he asked endy the Easterner entered with the letters and the wrathfully. "I asked you to drink with me." papers. The gambler simply twisted his head and spoke over "Well," said the Easterner at once, "the chap that his shoulder. "My friend, I don't know you." killed the Swede has got three years. Wasn't much, was "Oh, helll" answered the Swede, "come and have a it?" drink." "He has? Three years?" The cowboy poised his pan "Now, my boy," advised the gambler, kindly, "take of pork, while he ruminated upon the news. "Three your hand off my shoulder and go 'way and mind your years. That ain't much." own business." He was a little, slim man, and it seemed "No. It was a light sentence," replied the Easterner strange to hear him use this tone of heroic patronage as he unbuckled his spurs. "Seems there was a good to the burly Swede. The other men at the table said deal of sympathy for him in Romper." nothing. "If the bartender had been any good," observed the "WhatI You won't drink with me, you little dude? cowboy, thoughtfully, "he would have gone in and I'll make you, then! I'll make you!" The Swede had cracked that there Dutchman on the head with a bottle grasped the gambler frenziedly at the throat, and was in the beginnin' of it and stopped all this here mur dragging him from his chair. The other men sprang derin'." up. The barkeeper dashed around the corner of his bar. "Yes, a thousand things might have happened," said There was a great tumult, and then was seen a long the Easterner, tartly. blade in the hand of the gambler. It shot forward, and The cowboy returned his pan of pork to the fire, but a human body, this citadel of virtue, wisdom, power, his philosophy continued. "It's funny, ain't it? If he was pierced as easily as if it had been a melon. The hadn't said Johnnie was cheatin' he'd be alive this min Swede fell with a cry of supreme astonishment. ute. He was an awful fool. Game played for fun, too. The prominent merchants and the district attorney Not for money. I believe he was crazy." must have at once tumbled out of the place backward. "I feel sorry for that gambler," said the Easterner. The bartender found himself hanging limply to the arm "Oh, so do I," said the cowboy. "He don't deserve of a chair and gazing into the eyes of a murderer. none of it for killin' who he did." "Henry," said the latter, as he wiped his knife on "The Swede might not have been killed if everything one of the towels that hung beneath the bar rail, "you had been square." tell 'em where to find me. I'll be home, wait!ng for 'em." "Might not have been killed?" exclaimed the cowboy. Then he vanished. A moment afterward the barkeeper "Everythin' square? Why, when he said that Johnnie was in the street dinning through the storm for help was cheatin' and acted like such a jackass? And then in and, moreover, companionship. the saloon he fairly walked up to git hurt?" With these The corpse of the Swede, alone in the saloon, had its arguments the cowboy browoe3.t the Easterner and reo eyes fixed upon a dreadful legend that dwelt atop of duced him to rage. the cash-machine: "This registers the amount of your "You're a fooll" cried the Easterner, viciously. purchase." "You're a bigger jackass than the Swede by a million majority. Now let me tell you one thing. Let me tell you something. Listen! Johnnie was cheatingl" " 'Johnnie:" said the cowboy, blankly. There was a IX minute of silence, and then he said, robustly, "Why, no. * * The game was only for fun." MONTHS later, the cowboy was frying pork "Fun or not," said the Easterner, "Johnnie was over the stove of a little ranch near the Dakota line, cheating. I saw him. I know it. I saw him.· And I re when there was a quick thud of hoofs outside, and pres- fused to stand up and be a man. I let the Swede fight it 854 - GREAT SHORT WORKS OF STEPHEN CRANE STEPHEN CRANE out alone. And you-you were simply puffing around the place and wanting to fight. And then old Scully himself/ We are all in it! This poor gambler isn't even Born: Newark, New Jersey Died: Badenweiler, Germany a noun. He is kind of an adverb. Every sin is the result Date: November 1, 1871 Date: June 5. 1900 of a collaboration. We, five of us, have collaborated in the murder of this Swede. Usually there are from a dozen to forty women really involved in every murder, PRINCIPAL WOIUt5 but in this case it seems to be only five men-you, I, NOVELS.: Maggie: A Girl 01 the Struts, 1893; The Red Badge 01 Johnnie, old Scully; and that fool of an unfortunate Courage: An Episode 01 the American Civil War, 1895; George's gambler came merely as a culmination, the apex of a Mother, 1896; The Third Violet, 1897; Active Service, 1899;. The human movement, and gets all the punishment." O'Ruddy, 1903 (completed by Robert Barr). The cowboy, injured and rebellious, cried out blindly SHORT STORIES: The Little Regiment and Other Episodes of the American Civil War, 1896; The Open Boat and Other Tales 01 into this fog of mysterious theory: "Well, I didn't do Adventure, 1898; The Monster and Other Stories, 1899; Whilom any thin', did I?" ville Stories, 1900; Wounds in the Rain: War Stories, 1900. (For specific works in this edition. see copyright page.] POEMS: The Black Riders, 1895; War Is Kind, 1899. HISTORY: Great Battles 01 the World, 1901.

STEPHEN CRANE was the fourteenth child born into the min isterial household of the Reverend Jonathan Crane and his wife, Mary, at Newark, New Jersey, on November I, 1871. The father'S frequent moves to pastorates in New Jersey and New York gave the youngest Crane an opportunity to grow up under changing environ ments and stimuli. As a boy he shocked his family by announcing his disbelief in hell, a protest against the apparent futility of his father's devoted service to Methodism. Ideals with which the Rever end Jonathan Crane sternly allied himself did not correspond to life as his son came to know it. Stephen later wrote, "He was so simple and good that I often think he didn't know much of anything about humanity." Although physically frail, Stephen was essentially an outdoorsman. At Lafayette College (188!:f-1890) and at Syracuse University (1890-1891) he distinguished himself at boxing and as a shortstop on the varsity team. Years later, Joseph Conrad paid tribute to him as a good shot and a fine horseman. Mary Crane's death ended her son's college career, and he was never to be for mally well educated. His real education sprang from a keen ability to observe and learn from the life around him. Crane moved to New York City where he lived a precarious five years as a free-lance writer for the newspapers. While working for The Herald, the fledgling reporter studied the intimate nature of the Bowery. He slept in Bowery shelters, for he wanted the truth of the life he witnessed. None escaped his keen observation: the beg gar, the vagrant, the harlot-the life of the East Side world. During the two days before Christmas of 11191, the twenty-year-old reporter wrote his first novel. The characters were nameless and the book untitled. A brother, William Crane, suggested a title, Maggie: A 355