Theophilus North by Thornton Wilder Page A

only earning my living but saving money toward renting a small apartment. One morning in the middle of my third week, having come to the end of my children’s class at the Casino and preparing to take a shower and change my clothes before entering on my day’s academic program, I was stopped by Bill Went-worth. “Mr. North, can I see you here some time at the end of the day?”
    â€œYes, of course, Bill. Will six-fifteen be all right for you?”
    I had come to know Bill well and with increasing admiration. He had invited me to Sunday dinner in his home with his wife and with a married daughter and her husband—sound Rhode Islanders, every one of them. I was aware that something was worrying him. He looked at me narrowly and said, “When you were at my house you told us of some adventures you’d had. Would you like to try a little expedition that’s not in the regular run of things? You can turn it down flat, if you don’t like the sound of it, and it won’t change things between you and me. It’ll call for some sharp wits, but it’ll be well paid.”
    â€œYes, I would, especially if it would be of any service to you, Bill. Send me to the North Pole.”
    â€œThat might attract attention, likely. This is what they call a ‘confidential mission.’ ”
    â€œJust what I like.”
    At six-fifteen I entered his office of cups and trophies. Bill sat at his desk, passing his hand despondently over his close-cropped gray hair. He came at once to the point. “A problem has been dropped on my lap. The chairman of our Board of Governors here has been for some time a Mr. Augustus Bell. He’s a New York businessman, but his wife and daughters live here a large part of the year. They go to New York for a few months in the winter. His older daughter Diana is about twenty-six; that’s old for a girl in her set. They have a saying here: ‘She’s worn out a lot of dancing shoes.’ She’s high-spirited and restless. Everybody knows that in New York she started going around with some undesirable company. She got written up in the papers—and you know the kind of papers I mean. Then something worse happened. About two and a half years ago one of those undesirable characters followed her up here. Her family wouldn’t receive him. So they eloped. She was brought back before she got very far—police, private detectives, and all that. The newspapers went wild. . . . The trouble is that Newport’s no longer a summer resort for young men of her own class. Newport’s for the middle-aged and upward.” Bill struggled with himself a moment. “Now it’s happening again. Her mother found in her room a letter from a man making arrangements to go off with her day-after-tomorrow night. Going to Maryland to get married. Now, Mr. North, it’s very difficult to deal with the rich. Mr. Bell thinks it’s my obvious duty to drop everything and pursue two adults and somehow block them. He doesn’t want anything more to do with the police and with private detectives. I will not do it and probably my job is at stake.”
    â€œOf course, I’ll do it, Bill. I’ll try my best.” Bill sat silent, mastering his emotion. “Who’s the man?”
    â€œMr. Hilary Jones, head of the athletic staffs in the school system here. He’s about thirty-two, he’s been divorced and has a daughter. He’s well thought of by everybody, including his former wife.” He picked up a large envelope. “Here are some newspaper photographs of Miss Bell and Mr. Jones and some clippings about them. Do you drive?”
    â€œYes, for four summers at the camp in New Hampshire I’ve driven every kind of car. Here’s my driver’s license; it has three weeks to go.”
    â€œMr. North, I took a great liberty for which I hope you will forgive me. I told Mr. Bell I knew someone who was young, who