Here, held Steve, was the chance of a lifetime. With proper training, a
baby of such obvious muscular promise might be made the greatest
fighter that ever stepped into the ring. He was the real White Hope. He
advised Kirk to direct William's education on the lines which would
insure his being, when the time was ripe, undisputed heavy-weight
champion of the world. To Steve life outside the ring was a poor
affair, practically barren of prizes for the ambitious.
Mrs. Lora Delane Porter, eyeing William's brow, of which there was
plenty, he being at this time extremely short of hair, predicted a less
robust and more intellectual future for him. Something more on the
lines of president of some great university or ambassador at some
important court struck her as his logical sphere.
Kirk's view was that he should combine both careers and be an
ambassador who took a few weeks off every now and then in order to
defend his champion's belt. In his spare time he might paint a picture
or two.
Ruth hesitated between the army, the navy, the bar, and business. But
every one was agreed that William was to be something special.
This remarkable child had a keen sense of humour. Thus he seldom began
to cry in his best vein till the small hours of the morning; and on
these occasions he would almost invariably begin again after he had
been officially pronounced to be asleep. His sudden grab at the hair of
any adult who happened to come within reach was very droll, too.
As to his other characteristics, he was of rather an imperious nature.
He liked to be waited on. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it.
The greater part of his attention being occupied at this period with
the important duty of chewing his thumb, he assigned the drudgery of
life to his dependants. Their duties were to see that he got up in the
morning, dressed, and took his tub; and after that to hang around on
the chance of general orders.
Any idea Kirk may have had of resuming his work was abandoned during
these months. No model, young and breezy or white-haired and motherly,
passed the studio doors. Life was far too interesting for work. The
canvas which might have become "Carmen" or "A Reverie" or even "The
Toreador's Bride" lay unfinished and neglected in a corner.
It astonished Kirk to find how strong the paternal instinct was in him.
In the days when he had allowed his mind to dwell upon the abstract
wife he had sometimes gone a step further and conjured up the abstract
baby. The result had always been to fill him with a firm conviction
that the most persuasive of wild horses should not drag him from his
bachelor seclusion. He had had definite ideas on babies as a class. And
here he was with his world pivoting on one of them. It was curious.
The White Hope, as Steve called his godson, possibly with the idea of
influencing him by suggestion, grew. The ailments which attacked lesser
babies passed him by. He avoided croup, and even whooping-cough paid
him but a flying visit hardly worth mentioning. His first tooth gave
him a little trouble, but that is the sort of thing which may happen to
anyone; and the spirited way in which he protested against the
indignity of cutting it was proof of a high soul.
Such was the remarkableness of this child that it annoyed Kirk more and
more that he should be obliged to give the exhibition of his
extraordinary qualities to so small an audience. Ruth felt the same;
and it was for this reason that the first overtures were made to the
silent camp which contained her father and her brother Bailey.
Since that evening in the library there had come no sign from the house
on Fifth Avenue that its inmates were aware of her existence. Life had
been too full till now to make this a cause of trouble to her; but with
William Bannister becoming every day more amazing the desire came to
her to try and heal the breach. Her father had so ordered his life in
his relation to his children that Ruth's affection was not so deep as
it might have been; but, after all, he was William Bannister's
grandfather, and, as such, entitled to consideration.
It was these reflections that led to Steve's state visit to John
Bannister, probably the greatest fiasco on record.
Steve had been selected for the feat on the strength of his having the
right of entry to the Fifth Avenue house, for John Bannister was still
obeying his doctor's orders and taking his daily spell of exercise with
the pugilist, and Steve bungled it hopelessly.
His task was not a simple one. He was instructed to employ tact, to
hint rather than to speak, to say nothing to convey the impression that
Ruth in any way regretted the step she had taken, to give the idea that
it was a matter of complete indifference to her whether she ever saw
her father again or not, yet at the same time to make it quite clear
that she was very anxious to see him as soon as possible.
William Bannister, grown to maturity and upholding the interests of his
country as ambassador at some important court, might have jibbed at the
mission.
William Bannister was to accompany Steve and be produced dramatically
to support verbal arguments. It seemed to Ruth that for her father to
resist William when he saw him was an impossibility. William's position
was that of the ace of trumps in the cards which Steve was to play.
Steve made a few objections. His chief argument against taking up the
post assigned to him was that he was a roughneck, and that the job in
question was one which no roughneck, however gifted in the matter of
left hooks, could hope to carry through with real success. But he
yielded to pressure, and the expedition set out.
William Bannister at this time was at an age when he was beginning to
talk a little and walk a little and take a great interest in things.
His walking was a bit amateurish, and his speech rather hard to follow
unless you had the key to it. But nobody could have denied that his
walk, though staggery, was a genuine walk, and his speech, though
limited, genuine speech, within the meaning of the act.
He made no objections to the expedition. On being told that he was
going to see his grandpa he nodded curtly and said: "Gwa-wah," after
his custom. For, as a conversationalist, perhaps the best description
of him is to say that he tried hard. He rarely paused for a word. When
in difficulties he said something; he did not seek refuge in silence.
That the something was not always immediately intelligible was the
fault of his audience for not listening more carefully.
Perhaps the real mistake of the expedition was the nature of its
baggage. William Bannister had stood out for being allowed to take with
him his wheelbarrow, his box of bricks, and his particular favourite,
the dying pig, which you blew out and then allowed to collapse with a
pleasing noise. These properties had struck his parents as excessive,
but he was firm; and when he gave signs of being determined to fight it
out on these lines if it took all the summer, they gave in.
Steve had no difficulty in smuggling William into his grandfather's
house. He was a great favourite below stairs there. His great ally was
the English butler, Keggs.
Keggs was a stout, dignified, pigeon-toed old sinner, who cast off the
butler when not on duty and displayed himself as something of a
rounder. He was a man of many parts. It was his chief relaxation to
look in at Broadway hotels while some big fight was in progress out